Alone...

Everywhere I go there seems to be misery, pain, and discord, and it's really bringing me down.

My friends all seem to be struggling with various issues (myself included) and as a result I haven't been wanting to hang out as much. I've cut off contact with all but a few close friends, and even then I have only wanted to hang out for a couple of hours, and usually want to go home ASAP. When I do hang out, I try not to talk about my problems too much, as I know they either don't want to hear it or have too many issues of their own to really listen. When I go to see them it looks as if they are happy, but I can tell it's all a show. If I dare ask what is up, they will either overwhelm me with their own problems or else get mad and say that I concern myself too much with their emotions and I should worry only about my own.

A place that I used to go to in order to get away from my problems was my grandparents' house down in Woodland Hills, but I haven't been down there in many months. I used to go down there whenever I got the opportunity, their big house provided me with a sense of comfort and security, and my grandfather would spoil me rotten and treat me like the most important person in the world. Now, however, my grandfather is 88 years old, his short term memory is all but gone and he spends the vast majority of his time in bed, getting up every once in a while to eat or use the bathroom. He still remembers who I am of course and when my parents were down there recently they told me that he missed me and wanted to see me. It depresses me greatly to the point where I don't want to even call them (I used to call them every other day). I am going to go see them sometime in November, but it's going to be difficult.

After wasting a considerable amount of time in a fake "relationship" with someone who was pretending to be someone else, and watching some friends go from one failed relationship to another and others hoping for a relationship thinking that it would solve all their problems and not doing anything else with their lives, I gave up looking for a relationship. I don't want to grow emotionally attached to anyone or anything else at this point in time, because when I grow emotionally attached to things I worry about every little thing that goes wrong, and then when something big goes wrong I become too depressed and apathetic to help them. I am a very sexual person as well though and want to see what it feels like, but that's all I want. Plus there is the annoyance of various friends saying I need to get laid and making me feel uncomfortable being the one of the few virgins in the crowd. I desire to give myself physically to someone else yet not emotionally, which is kind of difficult for anyone who wants an emotional relationship with me.

Another thing that is sort of depressing me, and if you think this is stupid then kindly go fuck yourself, is that I still am grieving for the cat that i had to put down back in March. I was 6 when I first got Mew Mew, I watched her grow from a frisky kitten into a fat lazy cat. I would get very worried when she went outside and wouldn't come back for several hours. I worried a lot about her (an example of me getting too emotionally attached). When we put her down I didn't shed a tear, my grief is beyond tears. My other cat, Oreo, is still around, but I just don't feel the same connection with him that I had with Mew Mew, mainly because Oreo was a stray cat who adopted us and we didn't get to see him as a kitten. We don't know how old he is. I would like to get another cat but my parents aren't ready, and knowing them it will be a long time because they are big procrastinators.

I wish that the people in my life were happy, that there were places I could go that gave me the same level of security as my grandparents house, and that I have something to replace the things I lost. It was a big accomplishment for me to finally get my driver's license and I feel more independent now more than ever, but it's lonely at the top. I can do a whole bunch of things by myself that will benefit me, but if I don't have the people, places, and things in my life that matter, I kind of get a sense of "What's the point?".

Love in a Time of Depression...

It's true I haven't really expressed how I feel about what happened to me recently regarding my "relationship", other than wanting to get revenge on the person who did this to me, so I'm going to express how I feel about everything...

For those of you who don't know about what happened I will explain. Around January, I think it was while I was in New Hampshire, or maybe shortly after I got back, I met a girl online named Lilith, who I called Lily. She was from Switzerland. Lily originally began talking to Russell and upon seeing a photograph of him and me together she told him that she thought I was really attractive, so he told me about her. I started talking to her online and so did a couple of my other friends. They all told me that they could see chemistry between the two of us by the way we were talking to each other. I eventually began talking to her through MSN and it was there that we did most of our getting to know each other. We had a lot of things in common, including liking the same music, being very close with our grandparents, interests in Norse Mythology and Heathenism, and enjoying a considerable amount of time to ourselves. She posted on her DarkStarlings profile that she had someone close to her heart, and upon seeing that I became worried that she had found someone else, but then I talked to her on MSN and she explained that the person she was referring to was me, that she sensed a connection between the two of us. This made my anxiety turn to butterflies in my stomach. I was very happy. When she friended me on Facebook she posted that she was in a relationship with me, and asked me to confirm. I did without any hesitation.

Lily told me that she had family in the area and that she was planning on a visit to see them, and that I could stay with her at her parents' house for as long as I wanted. She kept making plans to come out here but would always have to cancel for one reason or another. The first time she did so was because she had to go to Germany to take care of her grandparents, who were ill. I respected this because as I said earlier I understood her closeness to her grandparents because I am very close with mine. The second time she had to cancel because she was ill. But she made plans to come out here in July. She even posted an "Event" thing on Facebook about her trip out here. I wanted to hear her voice before she came out here, my parents even suggested that I make one phone call out to her. She said that phone calls would indeed be expensive but that we would talk once she got out here. I was beginning to get really concerned that she wasn't who she said she was, the time of her trip was drawing closer and I had hardly heard anything from her. A few friends suggested I make a video for her and encourage her to make me a reply video. I did just that. When I posted the video she responded by saying something along the lines of "I'm sorry to have to do this but our relationship must end, it will only cause more pain". She then ended her relationship with me. She explained her reasoning for canceling the trip because of once again being ill, but at this point I was very suspicious and so were my parents and several of my friends, though ironically Russell and Lloyd continued to remain optimistic and encouraged me to be so as well.

I decided to do some investigating so I reported her to Eon, the guy who runs DarkStarlings. He traced her IP address and said that the person who I was talking to was in the western part of the United States, most likely Las Vegas, although he originally suspected Seattle, but nowhere near Switzerland. He then linked me to the profile of the person who I was most likely talking to. It turned out to be Roxi, one of Russell's ex girlfriends who had a history of making fake profiles. Even after they broke up Russell and Roxi remained close and I was also friends with her, I was very supportive of her as well during difficult times, I would ask her what was wrong and would offer advice. Why she would do something like this to someone who had been nothing but good to her the entire time I knew her? I sent her a message telling her to explain herself, and of course she denied everything, which I wasn't surprised. Of course after this I blocked her and deleted her from all my friend lists.

I was surprised at how unsympathetic some of my friends seemed to be, I got kind of annoyed that I felt like they didn't care that I had just gone through a major disappointment and that I put a lot of emotional energy into something that not only didn't pan out but wasn't even there in the first place. They later explained that they felt that I was holding up well and didn't really seem very saddened by what happened. They told me they felt I was relieved.

Part of me did indeed feel relieved when my fraud of a relationship was over. I was putting a lot of unnecessary stress on myself in order to "prepare" for her being here. The fact that this was all a fake angers me and upsets me more than me going after a girl who didn't like me in return ever could. The time I spent during the summer waiting for her to be here was time I could have spent going down to Southern California to see my grandparents (I have not been down to see them all year and I'm note sure when it will be convenient for me to go, which depresses me even more).

6 months. 6 months of my life I put on hold, all for something that never was. That is what is depressing me the most, forget the fake "girl of my dreams", I'm just angry that someone would waste all this time doing this to waste someone else's time

While it is true that I have held up pretty well I certainly haven't felt the same since all this has happened. I have been as depressed as ever. I haven't really felt like hanging out with my friends save for my band members. They have told me that if I hang out more I'll feel less depressed, but I have often felt that when I drag myself to hang out when I'm not in the mood it literally is painful and I don't really enjoy myself.  My facial hair is longer than it has been for quite a while, I haven't shaved since this all happened. I decided not to go to school this semester because I was really sick and tired of dealing with people and their drama. I wanted to focus on more personal goals such as my driver's license and my album that I am working on with Russell.

While I have been taking the bull by the horns and trying to get said things done, I still feel like I am being eaten from the inside. Part of me feels like it isn't worth it. Another part of me really despises people and doesn't want anything to do with them, even in a business-like manner (Why should I work for them, they don't care about me at all). Another part of me does desire love and companionship, but it's the smallest of the three. I see a lot of my friends seeking out a relationship in the hopes that it will make their life better, and I think that relationships only work once you find the right person, and that could take years. It sure as hell ain't happening in my life anytime soon.

For right now I am just trying to be happy. I at least still do have a place to stay, and I will hopefully be getting a car soon as well. I have a family that loves me, and I have friends who really do care, even if I have trouble seeing it some times. All these people want is for me to be happy. These are the only people who I really care about and because I enjoy their company I live for them. If I didn't have them I would probably be dead, as I hate so many things to the point where I'm not motivated at all.

Anyway, to all my friends, thank you for sticking by me, I'm sorry I haven't been hanging out at much, now you know why, hopefully. I hope to see you all very soon.

This can't keep happening...

Okay so I was already in a bad mood today, for reasons I am not going to discuss, and my dad tells me that I should talk to my friends about the fact that they can't wear certain colognes in my house because it bothers both my parents (they get headaches and feel nauseous when around certain perfumes/colognes), he went as far as to say that if I didn't tell them then he would. I got kind of annoyed and said to please not do that. He later apologized and said that he was having a bad day at work and that he said I should just forget about it.

This should have been the end of things, but it wasn't.

When my friends arrived I pulled them aside and told them what my dad said. I got even more pissed off because I felt they were being a bit insensitive. I have complained about this issue to them before, this has been an ongoing issue with me and my parents for as long as I can remember, I can't shower at certain times of the day because of the smell and can't use heavily scented soaps, shampoos, or deodorants and can't put on cologne unless I am going out somewhere. My friends dismissed it as simply a bad smell, they compared it to not flushing the toilet after taking a dump. I don't think they realize how bad it actually makes my parents feel.

Anyway I was getting really pissed off and instead of calmly asking my dad to come out and talk to them I started yelling and cussing my dad out in front of them, my dad was able to hear it and needless to say he was not happy at all, I broke the promise I made earlier by not bringing it up. He later came out and talked to my friends about it. No one was mad or upset with me in any way, and me and my friends later recorded a badass song for our band. Everything was resolved, but I still felt bad.

Why am I still doing this? Why am I, a 21-year-old man, continuing to act like this? I thought this had all gone away, I thought I had learned other, more mature ways, of handling anger and being upset. Seems like most of my friends, who have gone through much worse shit with their families than I have, seem to have found ways of managing their anger, me I feel like I have taken a gazillion steps backwards since I graduated high school.

Maybe it's my medication, the lingering effects of the Prozac that I have yet to get out of my system. I stopped taking it in May but I was told it can take as long as 6 months before it is completely out of my system. *sigh*

This can't continue happening, I must find a mature way of coping with my anger if I have any hope of functioning in the working world. My friends have seen both the good and the bad sides of me. I hope that they will not hold this against me and continue to hang out with me and support me.

Ergh!

Ok, so the past couple of months have been nothing but drama drama drama among my group of friends, it was for this reason that I decided to not go to DVC this semester, in order to get away from the drama. It does nothing but depress me.

Nonetheless it seems like I am involved anyway, and people are expecting me to not take a side. The fact is that while I do not want to add to any more drama, while I don't want anyone to be upset, I do know where my loyalties lie.

It all started (in my opinion) when a former classmate (and friend) of the group came back from nearly a year of living in New York. Prior to going to New York he complained that his stepmom was making his life miserable and wouldn't allow him any freedom. While I do think his stepmom was strict I think that she was trying to enforce discipline on her out of control stepson.

Anyway, he comes back, and then all this drama starts, him and my friend JT started saying that Lloyd was splitting the group up. They went as far as to say that Lloyd made Russell "his bitch". Now Russell is my all-time best friend and if I hear people talking shit about him you have my word I am going to stick up for him like a friend does. So anyway I was really pissed when I heard about all this, mainly because I knew it wasn't true. Russell wanted Lloyd to stick around because he had hoped to get music done with him, and also Lloyd was in a depressed state because his girlfriend had dumped him. I encouraged JT to hang out with Russell when Lloyd wasn't around so they could get his side. When they did they both agreed that it was just "stupid, immature drama, the immature people just need to grow up." I thought it was the end of all these issues, but apparently it wasn't.

My former friend (who I am not going to mention his name) would always say all this violent shit, and he said he loved Russell but "wouldn't hesitate to kick his ass if it boiled down to it". I was beginning to get really concerned for my brother's safety. One time my former friend told me about a gang-related murder that was happening down the street from where he lived, apparently he was involved with the people who were committing the murder and had arranged for these guys to come and kill this guy because he had threatened my former friend and all his friends and their families (including mine, and this person didn't even know I existed). The last thing I want is to be connected with gangs.

Anyway, yesterday Russell's sister's boyfriend Mike posts a status update saying that someone had threatened Eve (Russell's sister) with a knife. I asked him who he was talking about, but I had a hunch it was my former friend even before he replied back saying it was. I began really freaking out, I knew that my friends were all hanging out with this guy, and Lloyd was also talking to Mike and at that point I was really worried that if my former friend found out about this he would go berserk on everyone. Fortunately that didn't happen, my former friend simply removed himself from the group and deleted his Facebook page. But man was I worried.

As it stands now we all have a bunch of stuff that belongs to this guy that we need to give back to him at some point, which we will do, but that will be it. He also has a bunch of CDs that I lent him before he went to New York, a bunch of old recordings from me and Russell's band that have since been erased.

I later talked to Russell and he explained that this guy also bad-mouthed him to his sister. What the fuck kind of friend does such a thing? If you have a problem with somebody you should tell it to their face, if you can't bring yourself to do that then don't go talking shit about someone. Keep it to yourself or talk to a counselor or someone. But you do NOT badmouth your friends to each other and especially not to their family.

Anyway the person who I am concerned the most about now is JT. JT is another friend of mine who I consider to be a brother, he's been really good to me, when it was revealed that my girlfriend turned out to be a fraud (story for another time) JT called me up several times and asked if I was ok, he said if I ever needed to talk to someone I could talk to him. I trust JT with my life. This whole incident really upset JT and pissed him off. What I am worried about is him jumping to conclusions without knowing both sides of the story. I encourage him to talk to everyone, and I mean EVERYONE in the group, find out everyone's individual side of the story and then make a decision on where he stands. I really would hate to lose JT as a friend and I would hate it if me wanting to hang out with him would cause more drama among my friends.

In the end though it is JT who I agree with. This whole thing was stupid and really immature, and I can honestly say that certain people really need to grow up.

The Downside of How I Grew Up

Ok so in my previous blog entry I talked a lot about my school life and how it has shaped me into who I am today, but I want to talk about the psychological effect that a lot of what I went through still continues to have on me.

I mentioned that I didn't have many friends and that my parents took me to social groups for kids with Asperger's syndrome. I also talked a lot about being home-schooled, and I mentioned that my problems really weren't academic, they were social. Looking back, I doubt I had Asperger's, perhaps maybe I had some Asperger-ish behavior when I was younger but I definitely didn't have the same problems that a lot of those kids had.

I felt like I was normal, but to have a label like that slapped upon me really damaged my self esteem quite a bit. If my parents hadn't gotten so concerned about my anxieties I would have grown up differently. Yes it's true I have quite a lot of anxieties but my parents gave them too much power by catering to their needs.

I love my mom and dad a lot and they have done a lot for me and I can't blame them for all this. They were simply following their intuition as parents. It wasn't them really, I had a lot to do with it.

I would get really anxious and miss a lot of school. I would BEG my parents to let me stay home from school. This happened when I was only going to school for part of the day, and continued even when I was attending Del Amigo (the school that I give the most credit to helping me re-gain control of my life). By missing so much school, and especially when I was home-schooled I fell way behind socially, and the Asperger groups only made me feel like I was a retard.

I really can't describe in detail the amount of anxiety I felt over school. Basically every morning I felt sick to my stomach (I never actually threw up but the knot in my stomach would make it difficult for me to eat). During school I would spend a lot of time hiding in the bathroom. It was mainly to get out of interacting with the other kids. I would lock myself in a stall and wait for the school day to end.

I remember when I was in fifth grade. It was when I was going to Monte Gardens for 2 hours and being home-schooled the rest of the day. There was this lady there who was a behavioral specialist who wanted me to socialize with the other kids. She felt that recess would be a good time for me to do things with the other kids. So at recess she would have me pick one activity for me to do and I would have to do that same activity for the duration of recess. Well there was this girl who I liked named Kristina, and long story short I had an incident with her one day that started with me teasing her and ended up with me beating her up (yes, I beat up a girl. I am not proud of this, she was really the only person who I ever got into a physical alteration with, unless you count my parents). Anyway since that incident I felt really awkward around her and was afraid of being in situations where I had to see her. So one day when that behavioral specialist was there I knew she was going to make me do something with the other kids and I really wasn't in the mood, so while everyone else was playing and having a good time I locked myself in the bathroom stall and waited for recess to end. When it was over the behavioral specialist talked to me and asked what I did during recess. And I told her the truth, I hid in the bathroom. She was very disappointed in me.

It was my lack of friends and socializing that had my parents so concerned, and not just about me but the whole family. I remember my dad telling one of the psychologists "You know, I was just thinking about it the other day, and I realized that we don't have any friends". Well, we did have some friends, but no one who lived really close to us, mainly people who my parents knew from college who lived in Southern California. But my dad did have a colleague who had a daughter who was around my age, and like me she was an only child and on top of that was home-schooled through the same place that I was. Her mom actually was heavily involved with the home-schooling program. We would invite her over periodically, but because of my anxieties (mainly because she was a girl and I had these weird intrusive thoughts about girls) it didn't last.

Come to think of it I did invite a few kids over to my house...over the course of several years. There was this girl named Anna who lived down the street who I would periodically invite over, this was when I was pretty young, like 6. I never really was all that good of friends with her. Then there was DJ, this kid who was a few years older than me, he lived across the street, at first he was quite friendly but then for some reason he started to not like me, I think because of my insecurities.I think I may have been about 7 or 8. Then there was Sean, who was in my first grade class with me. He lived down the street and I would have him over quite often, we would play computer games and play outside on my swing set. I thought we were starting to become pretty good friends. Then one day we got into a stupid argument over a skateboard, and after that I stopped hanging out with him. I think I was around 8 or 9. And there was Katie, the daughter of my dad's colleague who I mentioned earlier. This was when I was 10.

There were other kids too who I went to their houses...occasionally, mostly kids from the Asperger groups, but I didn't have a lot of interaction with them, and when I stopped seeing the doctor who made me go to those groups we lost touch with most of them.

Fast forward to the summer of 2008, I was getting ready to graduate high school and felt that unless I made the effort now I would spend the rest of my life friendless. The first person from school who I went over to their house was Russell. It was very, very, VERY difficult for me to do, I felt that he would be like everyone else who I considered to be one of the "cool kids", I feared he would reject me, but he didn't, he welcomed me with open arms, and I am really glad I made that effort, one of the best decisions I could have made. Russell and Bela were the first people in several years, since Katie, who I invited over to my house. Finally I had the friends I needed. And yes, I they are the best friends I could have, they know what it feels like to grow up without a lot of friends.

This doesn't mean I still struggle. I worry constantly about having arguments with friends because somehow I have it in my head that arguments mean the end of friendships (I think it's because of what happened with Sean). My friends all have demonstrated how loyal they are and I take their word for it. It's just difficult making up for 18 years with very limited interaction with people my own age.

The Story of my Life

Ok so this is the story of my childhood and teenage years, and about my struggles in school and my social life which has shaped me into who I am now.

I was born on May 1, 1989 in Northridge, California. As an infant, I was like any other little baby: fat, happy, and curious. I was the picture-perfect child. However, when I got a little older and my parents decided to enroll me in "mommy and me" classes, it was clear that I was different. I had more interest in the air vents on the floor than in what the other kids were doing. My mom would invite this other little boy and his mom who lived in our neighborhood to come over so I would have someone to play with. But he was rowdy, and I was selfish and didn't like him touching my stuff. One day I got back at him by hitting him. His mom said to my mom that it would be a good idea to enroll me in preschool, however, it wasn't until after my family moved from our old neighborhood in Reseda, California, up to Concord, California, that I started attending preschool.

I started preschool at 2-1/2 years of age. I was first enrolled in a small, fairly structured program, and although I did not like being separated from my mother I liked being there well enough. However, my mom decided she wanted to enroll me in a co-op so she could volunteer there and keep an eye on me. So in the fall of that year I was enrolled at Clayton Valley Parent Preschool. My mom had heard that it was "a very warm, friendly environment." Unlike the first preschool program I was in, this one was very unstructured, the only times the kids were called to order was circle time and snack time. The rest was free-play all day, the kids could pick any activity and do it. There were probably 30 kids in the class, all running around. Very chaotic. I did not handle chaos too well but I was too young to speak my mind. I was in that program for about a year and a half. The first year I really didn't show how unhappy I was, but come my second year in that class and I had had enough. During circle time, I would sit in another room by myself. I was very withdrawn, and when made to do something I showed my frustration by being mean to the other kids.

Around this time, my parents started to notice that something wasn't right. Apart from my problems in school, my parents noticed that I became scared and anxious in a variety of situations, something that most parents would dismiss as "normal childhood fears". They started to become concerned, so they took me to a psychologist. The psychologist diagnosed me with Asperger's Syndrome but claimed that she "wasn't an expert" and tolt my parents to get a second opinion. So my parents took me to the "expert", who said that I did not have Asperger's, but OCD instead. Nonetheless, the label of Asperger's Syndrome stuck with me through all of my childhood and into my teens.

Now knowing that I had some challenges and that the school program I was in was not serving me well, my parents placed me in a special-education preschool program at Gregory Gardens School. This program was a lot better, smaller classes, and more structure. The one challenge that I did have, however, was ignoring kids who weren't behaving themselves. The first person who I considered somewhat of a friend was this kid named David, who was constantly getting into trouble. My parents weren't happy to hear I was getting into trouble, but didn't do much other than punish me when I misbehaved and rewarded me for good behavior. Also, as was the case with the previous school, I often did not want to go to school, and my parents still were concerned about my seemingly high levels of social anxiety.

Because of my challenges, I stayed an extra year in preschool, and started attending kindergarten at Westwood Elementary School at the age of six. Once again, I was in a mainstream school setting and had trouble adapting. I was not used to the longer school hours and being separated from my mom. I often did not want to go to school, but went anyway. Once again I became friends with one of the "bad kids", a kid named Frank. Frank and I would always make "bathroom jokes" during class, resulting in us being put in time-out, which my parents would punish me for when I got home. Frank and I also got in trouble at recess, I remember one incident when Frank purposely threw one of the school balls over the fence and out of school property. Frank and I got into a lot of trouble, but I considered him to be my buddy. Also, that year I had what I considered to be my first crush. Sarah Sheehan was a girl in my class who's very busy mother could not find time to drive her home from school, so she would carpool with us. I liked that a lot, and could hardly keep my mind off of her during class. It broke my heart when eventually her mom decided to place her in a full-time day care, putting an end to us driving her home. I was under the false impression that she didn't like me and therefore started being mean to her. There was one incident when Frank and I started pushing her around during recess and I got in trouble for biting her (which I didn't do but the stupid principal didn't listen to me). Towards the end of that year I was on a medication called Tofranil, which was supposed to help me with my anxiety and worries. It was also the year when I first started seeing Dr. David O'Grady, who I still see today.

First grade was much worse. On the very first day I broke down crying because of the longer hours. Eventually it had to be arraigned that I would only attend for half the day. Although Frank and I were no longer in the same class, we still hung out together at recess. Our behavior became even more problematic, and my mom started to become concerned that he was just getting me in trouble for his own amusement and that he was a bad influence. Eventually he got me in trouble for something he did and my mom made me sever all ties with him. Still, I found other ways to get in trouble and the teacher (who we liked a lot) developed a system to try and discipline me, she would keep track of all my good deeds and bad deeds and I would be rewarded or punished accordingly. My anxiety was greater than ever, I had stopped taking Tofranil and was first put on Zoloft, then Luvox. Luvox disagreed with me greatly and it was under the influence of that medication that I began having suicidal thoughts. I kept saying things like "I hate my life, and I wish I was dead!" both at school and at home. One time, shortly after learning about the fate of President Lincoln, I pretended to call John Wilkes Booth on the phone and ask him to come over and kill me. I would take kitchen knives out of the drawer with the intent of stabbing myself, but never actually came close. One time I even threatened my mom with a knife. Eventually I was taken off Luvox and put back on Zoloft, which seemed to agree with me better and the suicidal thoughts went away, at least for the time being. Towards the end of my first grade year I managed to calm down my bad behavior somewhat and befriended Sammy Bewley, who became somewhat of a sister figure to me through the remainder of my first grade year.

Still though something had to be done regarding my school situation, as it was clear that I wasn't going to succeed unless some accommodations were made. My parents gave me a choice, I could either stay where I was, go to an alternative school where you could choose your own activities (which we later visited and found that it was not a match for me due to the lack of structure) or else go to school for part of the day and be home-schooled the rest of the day. I chose being home-schooled. For both my second and third grade years I was tutored by my mom and dad for part of the day, and went to a resource class (still at Westwood Elementary) for a couple of hours the rest of the school day. My main challenge during that time was doing my work without getting distracted, as well as not becoming overwhelmed. While initially frustrated with me, the resource specialist, Ms. Nielson, found a way to keep me motivated. Still, I was in a class for kids with learning disabilites, and my challenges were not academic, they were social. My parents searched for the "miracle school" that provided smaller classes but was not strictly for kids with learning disabilities. Westwood did not offer that service, so it meant that I had to switch schools once again.

I started going to a special day class at Monte Gardens Elementary School in the fourth grade. While my parents initially hoped that I would be able to transition into the class full time, it never happened, and I was still home-schooled for part of the day. In addition, I received Occupational Therapy, which again was meant for kids with disabilities, rather than social challenges. I still had issues regarding getting my work done, and it seemed that I would let social issues get in the way, especially when it came to girls. There were a couple of girls who I liked but was unsure of how to express it, and ended up hurting them. Looking back on this, I don't understand why I felt I had to hurt them, but I did. Outside of school, my mom had me go to social groups for kids with Asperger's Syndrome in the hopes it would teach me some social skills, which I absolutely hated. Deep down I knew I did not have the condition, but nonetheless was treated as somewhat of a retard. Perhaps it was because I was shy and unsure of how to act in social situations, which in turn made me act out inappropriately at school. While I had friends in school, I was too shy to invite them over, and lost touch with them when I left Monte Gardens at the end of my 5th grade year.

I was enrolled in another special day class at Pine Hollow Middle School, still being home-schooled for part of the day, and still unable to attend school for more than a couple hours. Once again, I had trouble getting my work done, mainly due to lack of motivation. Once again, crushes on girls drove me to act in ways that were inappropriate. In addition to all that, I was becoming increasingly anxious over non-school related things, such as worrying about my cat. I now was taking a couple different medications at once, none of which seemed to help me in ways other than making it easier for me to sleep at night. Due to my problems at school, I was under the constant watch of behavioral specialists, and was treated like a bomb about to go off at any moment. My behavioral specialist told my parents about a special school for kids with emotional problems called the Floyd I. Marchus school. The Marchus School had small classes which resulted in more teacher-student contact. It also had group therapy sessions so that students could discuss conflicts that they were having. But it also had specially trained counselors who could help the students with personal problems. It was the miracle school that my parents had been searching for for me for many years. My parents considered having me go there for the remainder of middle school, however, I finished up my middle school career at Pine Hollow.

The summer between eighth and ninth grade was a tough one, as I had checked myself into a psych ward for attempting to cut my wrists (I didn't so much as make a mark on them, still I felt I should stay there). I was released the next morning upon being told I didn't belong in a place like that.

I began attending the Marchus School in 9th grade. With the exception of the first two weeks I was there, I attended school for the full day for the first time since the first grade. I did not understand why I was being made to go to that school, which I viewed as the asylum where they kept all the crazy kids. I knew I did not belong there. It seemed like most of the kids had problems that I could not relate to, most of them involving their families. I felt that the contrast between my lifestyle and theirs was too great. I felt that I was better than they were, so I quickly grew to hate the lot of them. Was I really that troubled? I became angry, and began to show it by once again acting out in ways that were totally uncalled for. I had a lot of absences, picked fights with other kids, and destroyed school property. My intention was to be as rebellious as I could so that I could convince my parents, as well as the school staff, that I was a hopeless case and should be taken out of the school. But my school counselor, Mr. Gallenkamp, told me that the best way out was to calm down my act and eventually would be able to go to one of their less-restrictive Satellite classes located on comprehensive high school campuses. And I did managed to calm down my act, although sometimes I had to fight hard in order to prevent myself from losing my cool.

I chose to go to the Del Amigo satellite class which was located at a small continuation high school. My sophomore year was much better than my freshman year. I began to take general education classes, which was something I hadn't done since the first grade. I was saying yes to a lot of new challenges. However, my sophomore year was very uneventful, and towards the end of the school year I was starting to get fed up with some of the negative attitudes of a lot of my classmates. I thought it wasn't good for me to be around people like that. I also felt that it would be a good idea to go back to my home high school simply because it would be good to say I went to a regular high school. But the school didn't have an opening for me, so I remained at Del Amigo.

I started my junior year in very low spirits. I was feeling kind of depressed because I did not want to remain part of the Marchus program. I began to distance myself from my classmates and fully integrated myself into the Del Amigo classes. That turned out to be a good thing, as I proved that I could handle a full school schedule. I also began to branch out socially and started making friends.

A new chapter in my high school journey began with the arrival of Holly Johnson at Del Amigo. It was spring 2007, the second semester of my junior year. I had a crush on Holly from the moment I first laid eyes on her. She had beautiful, long red hair, gorgeous eyes, and was nice and slender. She had very long French nails and wore a stud in her nose. She was very flirty and bubbly. She made going to my classes a lot more enjoyable. The only problem was I was too shy to talk to her. I knew that she was way out of my league. Everyone, my friends and family, was encouraging me to talk to her, but I couldn't. Not unless I improved myself first. Over the summer I worked out to get more in shape. I grew my hair out and began dressing like the way I dress now, rather than the preppy, conservative way I used to dress. I did it all for Holly, and I hoped she would be impressed by the new me.

On the first day of my senior year I went looking for Holly, but she was nowhere to be found. I asked my friends where she went, and they told me that she had went to a different school. That really broke my heart. I once again considered leaving Del Amigo for my home school but the counselors told me it wasn't worth it. They told me that remaining in the Marchus program would help me out in the long term because they had services that I could use that weren't available to the general public. So I stayed.

The rest of my senior year was fairly uneventful. I proved to myself though that I could handle college classes (I took Appliance Repair at my community college) and that I was a hard worker. However, it occurred to me that school was not just about hard work on academics, but also social work. So I went back into my main class and started hanging out with the people who came to be some of the best friends I have ever had!

I made the decision to give the Senior Speech at my graduation. It was originally something that I had no intention of doing, but my counselor told me that he was very proud of all my achievements and it occurred to me that I should give the speech. But it wasn't your standard graduation speech. Using subtle humor, I told the story that I basically just told you, about how negative I was in the beginning, and how I completely turned myself around by simply saying "Yes" to the challenge of attending the Marchus school. The school staff praised my speech as one of the best they'd ever heard!

That's basically how I got to where I am today. I can say that I can cope a lot better now and am able to do a lot more things by myself. I still have a lot of things to learn about the world and there still are times when I feel hopeless, but I'm not giving up. I enjoy reflecting on where I was before and how I got to where I am now. It makes me proud.