Shandicapped

The last thing I remember was being conscious of what appeared to be the media block of my secondary school, in pajamas of course being 22 I was a grown man, so I was freaking out. Now don't get me wrong, I was freaking out about just being there to start with but this was definitely playing a part, suddenly the door burst open, it was my old teacher whose name alludes me, but she was there, I quickly ran to hide but my place of respite, for so long in school, (the toilet) had betrayed me, but she walked right through me, she couldn't see me and I wondered what was going on but I was relieved, suddenly the bell rang, and out came a bunch of rowdy students with their friends causing a commotion simultaneously exhausted and full of life, a bit like I am now, some were happy and frantic, some mellow and looking down not wanting much to do with school, and others just causing trouble, not so suddenly I saw a kid in a wheelchair, me of course, there I was, Shandicapped (yes that's what my parents called me,)he looked fed up as he was wheeling away, I felt compelled to call out to him for some reason so I did, he of course couldn't hear me, I saw as he made himself small trying to squeeze past the crowd, saying excuse me in the smallest voice possible, irritation painted his face, every now and then I saw an eye roll as he innocuously barged into the feet of some passers by, especially the loud ones, I chuckled to myself, I did love barging into the loud ones. It was clear from my body language and face that I had low self-esteem, though of course, it was clear as I was me. The kid sluggishly made his way to the science block, he had science with someone we will call miss person, he strongly disliked her, (we will call her "miss person" in case this story blows up but she knows who she is) he got on to the stool and he put his head down barley remembering to get out his book because again, he hated the subject and his teacher I sat with him, his support assistant nearby transcribing notes for him, which he of course would not absorb as he was not writing them, for some reason I spoke to him (me) again, telling him to use his laptop, interact, engage, for the love of god do something! He looked ahead clearly not learning and he was not bothered, he said he needed the loo just so he could leave the lesson and be annoyed about life, I followed suit, I wondered what his problem was then I remembered, he was sort of a loser, but it wasn't the world, it wasn't the school or the pupils, he seemed to lack a sense of agency, but he didn't know any better, he had teaching assistants in lessons doing things for him and at break and lunchtime he would flounder from friend group to friend group self-sabotaging and eventually sticking with whichever ones would have him, to some degree, although much smaller as I am much happier now I see this pattern even in the 20 to 21 year old me. As we know nobody ever does anything once. He wasn't really confident in himself but he was when it came to raising his voice because he liked to conceal his soft side by appearing angry. it was better than being real. He couldn't afford that, and that's just touching the surface. Eventually, it was time to go home he got on the school bus that took him home, sometimes he spoke, was lively, funny, and rowdy, other times he was despondent and in a bad mood, usually when that happened, some girl had done something unforgivable like talk loudly, but all his thoughts around that could be it's own story so I digress. He got home, kicked off his shoes, took off his blazer, and just sat there, all the while I was thinking "god damn you slob, you don't even like this show. eventually, he would go to his room and change slowly and begrudgingly much like he did everything else in his life, and occasional WWE clips for shows he had already seen, his life wasn't really much else, he would do the same every day, rinse repeat. I knew from that point on that I was going to be following this kid for however long I was in this state (not in a nasty way) but in a self-reflective way, in a way where I could get inside myself, understand what motivated my behaviors and how they influence the current me, maybe one day the kid might see me and I can give him advice, back then I was a loser with little direction, now I'm a 22-year-old loser with little direction, I have 6 years of wisdom to instill. It does get better. But for now, he was going to sleep, I wasn't gonna follow him this time, because that would be creepy, till next time.