Hi, this is being posted at 12:17 A.M.
On the first day of 8th grade, I came out to all my teachers as transgender. But, due to my parents not accepting me, we all agreed that we could meet in the middle with "Al" instead of "Alan". I'm glad I have not been called "Alyssa" since the first few weeks, since it took a bit for my teachers to get used to it. I am thankful that I was permitted the gender equal bathroom in the nurse's office, and the name change. So, I'm happy with being called Al. By teachers. My problem with the name Al is that classmates use it. And they still use female pronouns as well. Like.."oh Al blah blah blah, she-" And I'm like "no, please are you thick skulled?" I have not corrected anyone on this yet, but my patience is wearing thin. And when they dead name me, THEN try to correct it with Al? I only want teachers referring to me as Al. Classmates must use Alan. Or if they don't accept me being trans, then don't talk to me. I'm very aware that a lot of the students who use the name and not the pronouns are mocking me. I've gotten used to being disrespected and dead named and everything. I've even taken getting my chest grabbed out of confusion from a.."mentally special" friend. And I forgave him because we're close buds and he forgot I wasn't born male.
When students/classmates call me Al, I feel degraded. I feel like they're letting me know I'm below them. I'm held back, I've been in a relationship with a girl boy and transgendered male. Now I'm trans, and they just see it as another reason to pick on me. I try SO hard to stay out of drama. I haven't gotten into "viral" fights, I haven't gotten suspended since elementary, and I haven't bullied anyone. But because I was just such a cringy kid, even up to 7th grade, I am just such an easy target to just about anyone. I'm shy, I'm anxious, I'm easily offended, and I freeze up and cry easily under ANY social pressure. I sit in the back of the classroom for a reason. I don't talk loudly when I'm called on for a reason. I'd rather sit alone at lunch for a reason. I sleep in the locker room instead of doing gym for a reason. I feel physically ill waking up for school. For. A. Reason. It's because I know I can get attacked at any given moment, and I can't fight back. Because I'm not strong, I'm not fast, and I have nothing to fight for. Maybe if I lose the fight I can get out of school for a few days.
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(vent from today)
A kid I know named Joe, we used to be friends, was sitting next to me in German class today. He had the empty desk that was behind him, on his back. So I stood up and removed it, gently hitting his head and calling him "stupid" in German as a joke. Because we were in German class, right? So he throws his pencil at me. I laugh and tell him not to throw things at me, and he says he's allowed to. So I broke his pencil. And he snapped just like that fucking pencil.
"That was a BORROWED PENCIL!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU THAT IS AN ACTUAL BORROWED PENCIL! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!" At this point, he has gotten half way out of his seat, and everyone is looking at us. I can feel myself shrinking in my seat as pure shock keeps me from crying. Our German teacher ran over between us and tried to get Joe quiet. "NO, THAT WASN'T MY PENCIL! I WANT TO RIP HER HEAD OFF!!" I don't remember how he ended up outside of the classroom, but I heard everything else. I heard whispers, I heard birds outside and I heard rushing water so loud I couldn't think. Apparently, my German teacher had been saying my name. She calls me by my last name since she had my brother. She asked me if I was okay multiple times, and I nodded and continued to space out.
When Joe came back into the classroom, I didn't look at him. I felt like I was going to puke, and I was trying to calm down. He jumps over his desk and lunges his arm at my face as he grabs the pencil pieces, nearly shoving my stuff off my desk, and me out of my seat. At this point, there are tears on my cheeks, but I'm not exactly crying. After the bell rang, I stayed in my seat. My teacher has to repeat my name a few times again, and she asks if I'm okay. I try talking, and start crying.
"I think I just had a panic attack."
I've only had one other panic attack in my entire life, and it was last year. I do not feel like reliving it, so I'll continue. She gave me a tissue and hugged me, telling me she's walk me to my locker in case Joe decided to try anything. Because he has special needs, he doesn't exactly get punished. I'm not saying this to be rude, I'm saying this because I've witnessed it for almost three years. I knew I wasn't going to feel safe in the hall, and I busied myself with my winter jacket when I saw him walking down the same hallway.
After I left the building, I was greeted by my brother calling me a dyke, and then just bumming it with my friend Max at their house. Though I did laugh and enjoy myself, I wasn't too happy. I'm scared to go to school tomorrow, and I'm just so done with my school all together.
I swear, I'll be graduating from online school.