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Cake day: July 3rd, 2023

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  • It’s called dyscalculia when it’s for numbers or math. I looked at the symptoms list and it doesn’t really resonate. I used to count the coins in my piggy bank, and loved to do it, still do actually, and never had any trouble with it. With bigger calculations as well, I didn’t have trouble if I could do it in peace, but as soon as there was any amount of pressure on me, I started to struggle. I also would definitely have benefited from a more individual and calm teaching style, and maybe my parents also shouldn’t have been so accepting of my poor performance.

    I sometimes actually grasped some concepts with ease and faster than some classmates, I remember having no difficulties with some chemistry calculations, while others did. And I also noticed that I really liked physics, math, chemistry, etc. if I was doing well, but often the teachers just couldn’t give me the attention I needed, so I just fell off.

    Idk if I’ve come out ok… I’ve had a lot of trauma in my life which I think lead to some pretty bad mental health issues, and now that those have been somewhat resolved, or rather they’ve evened out and/or I’ve learned to live with them, my physical health has started to fail. I finally managed to get a job after years of struggling only to develop a still undiagnosed chronic illness and having to leave the job and left to wonder wtf to do next. I don’t think I really have a future, tbh…


  • I’m sorry you went through all that, I hope you’re in a better place now.

    I have a couple of smaller, less bad stories from my time in school.

    I was never particularly interested in school. I didn’t have many friends, and those I did have, there was always drama and backstabbing with them (once actual stabbing as well when a kid stabbed me with a pencil on my cheek, just below the eye), so I just learned to be by myself most of the time. I also didn’t find most subjects interesting, or maybe it was the teachers as now as an adult I love to learn, but as a kid I didn’t do well at school at all. I wasn’t failing either, I was just below average and could have done better if I took it seriously.

    There was always one subject that I really struggled with tho; math. My teacher at the time had this system on one of the blackboards where he tracked how each kid was doing in terms of learning the multiplication tables. It was based on the solar system, which was pretty cool, I think he even cut out and laminated the planets and stuck them on the board, and each kid would have their name tag next to the planet they were on. Now… I don’t think my name moved very high up on that board, as I just really struggled with it and was not offered any extra help. It was embarrassing to be the last kid, especially when everyone else was so high up. Eventually the planets and the names were taken off, but for months everyone could see how fucking stupid I really was…

    The same teacher, he was also pretty lazy, as he didn’t check homework. And of course nobody likes homework, and if nobody checks it… I just didn’t do it. One day he was checking some other tasks on our workbook and we had to leave it on his desk. I was panicking because he’d flip through the pages and see how most of mine were empty. I had an idea; instead of haphazardly even trying to fill up the empty pages, I instead made bookmarks, and so that it wouldn’t raise suspicions, I made bookmarks for all the subjects I had. I dropped of my workbook on his desk and pointed out the bookmarks sticking out, saying he could use them to find the pages he needed with the sweetest smile I could muster. He thanked me, and I went on not to be caught that day.

    I did eventually get caught, and had to stand in front of the class room as my teacher yelled at the whole class, and even slammed his fist on the quiet kid’s desk, making her jump in the air a bit. I was like 7 or 8, I don’t really know why I was expected to know the importance of homework, or do it, when seemingly there were no repercussions for not doing it, but oh well… My mom hated that teacher, for his laziness, and blamed him for not doing his job properly.

    Math continued to be the bane of my existence and when I was in my teens, I finally failed two math exams. I was put into tutoring/special education for a few lessons to prepare for the retakes, and I was actually doing fine. When I did the exams and got them back, the grades on them were really good, a handful of points away from top marks. I commented about it to the special ed teacher, saying I’d never gotten such a good score in a math test before, she dryly replied that it was an easier test, and I realized it was pointless to try, since it makes no difference anyway.

    It took me years to find any joy in math, and even now I’m still a slow calculator. Also numbers just keep switching spots or 9 becomes a 6 all of a sudden. At school we always had to hurry, but I always need to go slow when it comes to math. And I like doing things on my own pace. I probably could have done better, if I could have had more time. But I didn’t…

    So, school sucked, but little did I know that it could suck even more…

    It was friday, I was running a bit late (ironic as I literally lived next door to the school lol). I open the door to one of the lobbies at school, and already from the outside I could see one of my teachers whose class I had that morning, talking to two men in the lobby. I had a bad feeling in my stomach, but opened the door, and when the teacher greeted me, she sounded… surprised? The bad feeling was really intense now, and I knew I was in trouble, but not sure what for. I wasn’t a great student, skipped school a lot, but I wasn’t a bad kid. I never disturbed the class, I was quiet and mostly just sat at home playing video games. I think most people just described me as quiet, lonely, mostly well behaved.

    Anyway, the teachers explains to me the two men are police and they want to talk to me about something. They introduce themselves, but honestly at this point things are a blur. I’ve just woken up a few minutes ago, my mom convinced me to go to school, and now I’m in trouble with the cops. Me and the cops, and I guess the principal at this point too, walk to the school nurse’s office. My classmates could clearly see me when I arrived, as the school had windows and windowed doors everywhere, but luckily the upstairs hallway was cleared, so my walk of shame wasn’t too public.

    At the nurses office, the cops ask me questions, they search my bag, and I’m told that they think I had threatened to shoot up my school. Do note, I live in a country where firearms are difficult to get a hold of. Also I had never made any threats like that. This all came out of the blue for me. Well, after the cops had searched my bag and found nothing, they left, and the principal walked me to the class. I was not given even a minute to calm down, nor was I offered the option to go home. Nobody bothered to check if I was okay, which I fucking wasn’t. I’m 13 and this whole thing is just so confusing and humiliating, but of course it could be more humiliating…

    The principal explained she would be making an announcement about this, saying that it was a false alarm. I begged her not to, but she had no choice. I went into class, and of course we’re doing group exercises. I join a group and awkwardly try to do my part. Then the announcement comes. I’m desperately trying to hold back tears, and just focus on the fact that it’s friday and it’s only a few hours before I can go home. The class ends and we’re sent outside for the mandatory break (this was normal, in my country some breaks you have to go outside for fresh air). I was talking with some classmates, the atmosphere in the whole courtyard feels off. It’s awkward and quiet. Suddenly some older kids come and surround me. The start throwing insults and unlit firecrackers at me. I see two of my teachers talking to each other just a few meters away, completely ignoring what is happening to me. Idk if any of my classmates went to notify them, but I just stood there, staring at the older kids as I got yelled at. I found it kinda funny tbh, but did my best not to show any emotion.

    When the bell rang a few minutes later, I made my way to the next class, and because that day I could not have any normalcy at all, the teacher tells us he has to supervise another class, so we’re put into a different class room and made to watch a documentary, about Johnny Cash iirc. I dreaded being left alone with my classmates, but luckily they didn’t pay attention to me. Midway the documentary, the principal makes another announcement, calling the kids who bullied me on my break into her office, so I guess somebody saw what happened after all… A little later after that the principal comes by the classroom, giving my unruly classmates a bit of a shock, pulls me aside and tells me I can go home for the day, due to the bullying. I tell her I’ll leave after the documentary, because I wanted to finish it, and leaving after the class would also arouse less attention, than leaving in the middle of it.

    What followed from this was more bullying, with random kids whose names I didn’t even know, yelling “BOOM” after me as I walked in the hallways. One kid would walk in front of me, with his back to where he was going, asking me if I’d kill him. That boy, my mom is friends with his parents, and him and his parents even hung out at my parents’ summer house for like a week or so. My mom sometimes gives me updates about his life, idk why. Anyway, I also became paranoid for a long time, being afraid of random cars, thinking I was being followed and the cops might come back to take me away. When I moved and went into a new school I was terrified somebody might uncover what had happened and it would all come back to haunt me.

    From what I learned after asking around was that somebody just started a rumor about me, and it had spread around for a few days or even weeks, before someone’s parents were told and the call to the principal and then the cops were made. So, all of this was just a very cruel way to bully me even further. It’s been almost 2 decades and I still feel humiliated, angry and betrayed. I feel like this could have been handled with more grace, or at least I could have been given more support how to deal with this, but I was just left to fend for myself. When I arrived to school that friday morning, everyone else knew what was going on, even the students, I was the only one completely unaware of the trap waiting for me. And I was just 13… A lonely, quiet kid with no friends… Nobody defended me, nobody asked me if I was okay, nobody cared about me at all.




  • I do fine nowdays in terms of going outside. I don’t like it, and when I don’t have to I won’t, but I’ve also tried going out, like attending work events, last time a massive party. It wasn’t the worst, but they didn’t have the alcohol I drink and it just ended up being kinda boring. I didn’t really meet anyone new, or do anything interesting. Public transport is no longer an issue for me, I’m anxious about it, but I’ve managed to get to where I want and back just fine, and every successful trip (even if the train is full and I don’t get an ideal seat) is another small confidence boost.

    For some anti-depressants work, for me it’s a no. To add to what I mentioned earlier, I’m also an overdose risk, so I try to have the least amount of medication around me. I’d need to have someone who’d keep my meds locked away from me and supervise me taking them in order for me to feel safe, and well, don’t have anyone like that. As of late, my depressive periods are not that common or long anymore either, but they are brutal. I go from feeling normal to thinking about killing myself (not actively planning or trying tho) in a matter of hours, and a few days or hours later I’m back to normal.

    I’d say the feel to need useful is just the need for acceptance. I saw a post few days ago, a screenshot from tumblr, about how some people make themselves as low maintenance as possible, due to trauma. Underneath that, another tumblr user wrote: “You don’t believe you can be liked so you settle for being useful.” You, or anyone else reading this, deserve to be loved and cared for, even if you aren’t “useful.” We all bring provide something to this world with our unique experiences, thoughts, and ideas.

    Luckily my job is fairly stress free (other than being pissed about my coworkers not cleaning after themselves and my need to work hard to try and gain acceptance) and I only work 3 days a week. Plus I get to eat a lot of chocolate. :P But on the other hand it isn’t enough money to live off of, and my skills are wasted. I am now stressing over my job because I have a mystery illness and I’m unsure if I can keep working there anymore. I don’t know what other job I could do. I was for years without income and if it wasn’t for the kindness of others, I would have been in debt and homeless. I’m scared that will become reality again. I just fail to see why, or how, I’m supposed to keep going when there just doesn’t seem to be a future. Even if I found a job, it would need to pay a lot in order for me to get my own apartment, even a small one. I feel like my only way of finding a place to live is to find a sugar daddy or a well earning man willing to marry me, but I don’t want to be a gold digger. Or have a relationship based on the need for shelter.


  • I’ve just barely gotten over my agoraphobia to get a shit min wage job, so traveling will be out of the questions for a while. Even if I had the money, I can’t see myself enjoying going somewhere by myself. I’d be scared of getting robbed and raped on top of being terrified of going outside and dealing with people. I just don’t want to do things by myself anymore.

    Eh, medication won’t remove the depression, mostly it just levels off your mood. Sure, you won’t feel so sad anymore, but you won’t feel the high highs either. I don’t think being lonely and missing having people to share your life with makes you dependent on other people, we’re social animals after all and we all have a need for socialization, attention, intimacy, etc. Those are basic needs, just like hydration and sleep.


  • I don’t mind being alone for the most part, I have a lot of things I want to do and those activities are (mostly) solitary. Still, there are certain things that I crave others for. I want to go out, to concerts, party, travel, have a good time, and I want to do that with others. I feel like I used to handle loneliness in a better way, but now I’m just feeling depressed and slightly suicidal over it. And I don’t know how to fix it…



  • I was at a classmate’s apartment and her very drunk stepdad came over. My classmate was getting ready to go out and I was just chilling on the couch and the stepdad sat next to me, trying to hold a conversation. He put his legs on my lap, trapping me in the corner of the couch. I don’t remember what he was saying, but at one point he sits up, grabs my head with both hands and licks my face from my chin to my forehead. When I told about it to a trusted adult later that day, they just laughed with me about it. Years later I really wish they wouldn’t have…