another untitled piece

the second people hear the word "disorder" its like they immediately want to remove you from your life. they wouldn't dare to be seen with you, that would completely ruin their social life. they have made their strong hatred filled opinions. they have began to add to the everlasting stigma about your existence.

existence. my existence. it has suddenly been deemed as "irrelevant." you will receive the smirks and then constant undertone which is of course never seen by your teacher. you will be ignored, left out, completely removed from apparently a community school, which everyone is supposed to feel they fit it. i never cared about not being popular. but what got to me was constantly being ignored, being "the outcast."

why can't people accept the fact that you function differently? 

this has happened to me my entire childhood. 

by the end of grade six, i was sick of that crap. of being the weirdo in the class who nobody would want to be friends with. i had one really good friend, my best friend, who was two years older. it didn't matter she wasn't in my grade, she was my neighbour. she was the only person i had. yet sadly, she died. of cancer.

i don't want to talk about that. it is too sad, that a fourteen year old girl died because of her illness. that chemotherapy didn't work. just too young.

i went to high school with no friends and only kids that went to my primary school knew me. my grade all through primary consisted of about 100. about 75 of them now go to my high school. my year consists of an unbelievable four hundred arrogant adolescents. i am no good with numbers but there's a far chunk of people who don't know me.

a new beginning. that's what i thought. i kept my secret as all people do. i don't look at my disorder as bad, i think its my superpower. yet the rest of the world except those who have it don't. 

i tried to get through grade seven and that went okay. i had six kids in my class from primary school, all of them i didn't know overly well, and they didn't know me either. i struggled but i managed. year seven was a good year.

then there was year eight. 

one  teacher had to honestly ruin my life. i was clicking as i always am. and she totally lost it at me. the second day of eigth grade and i had managed to get in trouble. the words she said, they will stay with me.

"i don't care that you have adhd! just when your in my class, either contain your issues or just don't come at all!"

yep. she said that. 

and the cat was out of the bag.

it the present, out of my class of 28, about eight of those acknowledge my existence. 

i thought that being an outcast would just be a past memory, a thing that was in my childhood.

i guess i was wrong, this is my life.