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School years

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After kindergarten, there came the time to level up to primary school. I spent my 1st year on a private school, to which my mother drove me everyday. This is the first time i remember experiencing a somewhat significant social anxiety. When i first sat down in that class, among complete strangers, i can clearly re-experience this distinct feeling of cold sweat and increased heartbeat, sharpened senses and the like. When the time came to leave, i walked outside the school doors and after one minute of waiting, i started crying. My mother had promised me she would be there to pick me up. Which makes sense seeing how there was no other way for me to reach home. But she wasn't there. At least so i thought. She showed up 2 minutes later and started giggling, saying how she just went on a walk around the block because she arrived earlier.

Next year it came, the "reunion". The day my parents decided to live together ("again") for my sake. Thus, my mother and i moved in to my father's rented apartment. I always loved this house considering how big it was and of course because now i could play more computer games. Also, i wouldn't be anywhere near my grandmother from my mother's side. But i would be close to my father's mother, who lived on their family home which was right by the next block. It was a small apartment and not really optimal for a family.
At that time both of my parents were working, my mother as a private secretary at the car company Ford. My father is a public "servant", who works at the company that runs the metro, which as far as i can tell, its partly private and part publicly owned, however that works.

Obviously since we moved, i had to change schools. Looking back at it, i wonder how i managed to pass the 1st grade, considering how awkwardly i initiated the 2nd grade in my new school (which was public). On the very first day, the teacher decided to have us write some dictation. And as per usual, a teacher tends to repeat the sentence to refresh our memories. That was not the case with me. I panicked and dropped the sentence halfway, and began writing it anew on a new line. The same happened on the next "refresh". And then, the 4th came and i started crying because i thought i couldn't keep up. The teacher then came by me, noticed the problem and simply pointed out i only had to write the sentence one time. When i realized my mistake, i was dumbstruck. Needless to mention the feeling of shame that followed such a humiliating event.
My classmates weren't bad. The first group of friends i made, was the son of one of the teachers together with 2 other girls, with whom we would play pirates. He would be the captain resumed the role of the underlings. I don't know how i managed to get tangled into the lawless side of society so early on. It could be the fact that one of the prettiest girls in my class happened to be a co-pirate. But at that young age, i doubt that was a factor. Aside from them, i also made friends with a classmate who lived across my house and another kid, of albanian origin whose parents migrated here. Their names being Panos and Alex respectively. Panos denoted the basic signs of a "playboy", a premature version of unfounded confidence and a strong reliance on his good looks. This might have been an aftereffect of his life with his family. Alex on the other hand, was a rather interesting character. He was always overflowing with excitement and positive energy, so eager to try things and pursue various interests like BMX biking, parkour, basketball, card games (mainly Yugioh), album stickers and whatnot. However, the one attribute that stood out was his seeming invulnerability to negative criticism. A certain someone in our class had this reputation (which would grow in the future) of being a huge slime. He would be a friend with everyone upfront, but would make sure to smear shit on your back all the time. He was a kid of small stature, wearing glasses, half way immersed into the gaming world, with an aptitude of teasing, messing and pissing off everyone, including the teachers. He was also the joker of the class. He is the one who granted me the nickname "black boy". Despite the fact that i am not considered black by any standard, the inspiration came by the afro hair i got from my mom. So naturally afro hair= Africa=black people. Although the term didn't have any physical correspondence, it did affect me. And negatively at that. Many of my classmates would find it funny and use it as well, which led to me developing this distinct feeling of being an outsider and being targeted. I think it evident enough, that i never voiced my discomfort.

Hopefully i will be able to complete this introspection soon, forasmuch as i have been experiencing some spiritual weakening that has drained me of the will to continue this work. But perseverance is a strength unparalleled by all but faith. And for any strength to grow, you have to practice it.

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  1. Amon's Avatar
    Amon -
    Apparently entries can't be edited so i have to point this sentence out:
    "He would be the captain and we would resume the role of the underlings."
    Updated 01-14-2019 at 02:54 PM by Amon (Grammatical error)
  2. Andro's Avatar
    Andro -
    If you hover with the pointer over your blog title, do you see an editing tool appearing?
    Quote Originally Posted by Amon
    Apparently entries can't be edited so i have to point this sentence out:
    "He would be the captain and we would resume the role of the underlings."
    Updated 01-31-2019 at 12:57 AM by Amon
  3. Amon's Avatar
    Amon -
    Quote Originally Posted by Andro
    If you hover with the pointer over your blog title, do you see an editing tool appearing?
    Yes, i see it now. Thank you very much.