Just 6 years back from around October 16, 2013, I started fearing being different. It all began when my parents started fighting with my school system to get me tested to see if I had some sort of learning disability. By the time fourth grade came my parents finally got their way with the school, after the school kept arguing saying I was fine and hadn’t seen a reason for testing. I began missing class to have what I found as aggravating testing done, all just to see if I learned differently. It wasn’t just a day, or a week, but at least a month, if not even longer.

Of course, no one really understood why this teacher would pop into the classroom and ask to take me out of class, but it felt as if every kid did. When I was taken out of class for the testing, I would go into a little, quiet room where it was just me and the teacher. The chair I sat in was blue, had cushion to it, and had arm rests. Every time the tests would be similar, but they were never the same. They were more like games than a test, but they weren’t really that fun. They incorporated many letters, numbers, and shapes all just to jumble my mind to show different information. I never took it as a chance to miss class because it was too embarrassing to me that I was having these tests fulfilled. On occasion I had to go to the school psychologist who had me take more tests that were mind games, but these games were more frustrating. One game involved these shape blocks. Other games involved cards, with different combinations on them that I only had a short amount of time to look at, and then recite what I remembered.

Finally after a month or so of in school testing, I was done and I no longer needed to be pulled out of class. I thought all of the testing was done, but as usual, I was wrong. The school had my parents recommended to some type of medical office for yet again some more testing. Except the place I had been referred to had me testing all day. Now my fear had grown because I had thought more people would discover why I kept missing class. I went to this doctor’s office all day one Thursday starting at 9:00 a.m. Not only did I not want to be there, but I was sick with a terrible cold, which prevented me from performing to the best of my ability on the countless number of tests.

These guys that were “doctors” half the time didn’t seem to know what they were doing. And on top of all of that they didn’t give me a break. It was 4 hours of testing. Then, “Why don’t we stop for lunch and meet back here for the rest of the test.” So then since both of my parents were there they took me out to lunch. By the time lunch came I was beyond angry that I was taking these tests. I couldn’t believe my parents had the urge to put me through what had felt like torture. After lunch, my parents and I went back to the office for me to sit through another 4 hours of testing. As an 8 year old sitting for that length of time it became boring extremely fast. Finally, the tests had been complete and by this time I was ready to hurt someone for making me go through that whole process.

After the testing, my parents had come to a conclusion that it wasn’t done accurately. The doctors said I was perfectly normal, but my parents weren’t sure that there wasn’t 100% anything wrong with me. After the results had come back, my parents had another meeting with the school to review the results. The school, after hearing all about it from my parents, was still unwilling to do anything.

By the time 6th grade had come, my parents took me to another doctor to get more accurate test results. When I discovered they were making me take more of these tests I was inflamed with anger to the point I refused taking anymore tests. My parents tried to convince me this time it wouldn’t be as bad but I said, “I DON’T CARE! I AM NOT TAKING ANOTHER TEST!” They weren’t giving in and I still had to take the tests. I went in about three different times and took similar tests to the first time. Finally after the 3 times, they eventually came to a conclusion that I didn’t really have a learning disability, but it was more just that I learn differently from other people, just a little slower sometimes. I was diagnosed with ADD but it isn’t that severe of a case. The doctor still had me try some medicine to see if I started to do better in school, not that I was doing poorly. They were capsules and I could hear what sounded as if it was sand like substance inside the pill, which made me sick to my stomach. I would take the pill and then puke from it. My mom claims that it helped, but I said I didn’t feel or see a change. After I finished the few weeks’ worth of pills, I didn’t have to take it anymore because they didn’t seem to do anything for me.

In 6th, 7th, and 8th grade during my free period, instead of a study hall I went to academic support so I could get help if I needed. I started finding myself making sure no one was coming that I knew before I entered the room. If there was someone I did know I would keep walking past the room and go to the bathroom to avoid anyone seeing me, then I would go to class. The thing that bothered me most was going into that room and having to hide that I went there, just so I felt I wouldn’t get made fun of or judged.

I began to open up and tell a few more people about it, over time, along with starting to not fear my difference as much. In fact some of my friends that I've had since I was a baby only heard the full story this year in 9th grade. It was all during soccer season when I started telling my situation more. Some of my friends, what seemed to me, started making fun of the fact that I don’t do as well in some classes. So what maybe I struggle in a class and I HATE the class. It’s better to try and to put in more effort and not succeed, than to not try and not do well. As my mom often says to me, “There is a difference between not trying and not doing well and trying and not doing well. And you do try.” When I first heard that it made me stop letting bully like comments bother me and just knowing what I really do and who I really am. I just know my situation and I don’t let it bother me anymore.