"Different"

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Ever since I was a kid, I have noticed how people would act strange around me. It was as if I had a disease, or committed a crime. Constantly, I receive suspicious looks and irregular reactions, for what ever do. As someone trying to fit in, I was always the weird one, the sensitive one, the outsider. I was always bullied and discriminated. during my years as a student. Girls would stay away from me, bigger boys would pick on me and taunt me, or in worse cases, beat me up for being "strange". When I was in grade 5, I courted a girl I liked for 5 years. I was turned down for being too weird. It was also the same school year that I got beat up 5 or more times, by bullies in my class. It created a stigma in me, that I was a loser, a never-do-well and that I was too different to be given my worth as a human. The following years, I was constantly taunted by bullies with names like Mr. Burns, Mr. Bean or Wussy. I asked myself: "What was wrong with me?", almost everyday. High school came and I was introduced to kindred souls and outcasts, different like me, in the form of my classmates. I relished their company because we shared the distinction of being the renegades and (pariahs to the other sections), the ones who didn't fit in, and yet we we're cool with it. However the bullying and taunting continued, and I got the worst of it, among us. Then my Dad died, towards the end of my 2nd year in high school. For two years, I and my Mom ostracized him for being lazy and "weird" for his New Age beliefs. I unknowingly did to him, what the thugs were dishing out to me for years. He died a sad man, loved sincerely by his eldest daughter, my sister, Nicole. To this day, I feel the guilt and regret. I miss him, and want to do things a different way, given a chance. The year that followed began my downward spiral, which I try to recover from, to this day. On my 3rd year, I began suffering from "Schizo-Affective Disorder". Previous to that, I was already different. Now Iwas even weirder. I began to suffer from emotional breakdowns and became more sensitive to what people did or said to me. The bullying and taunting continued in college. Eben some of my professors chimed in. As a result, I had to quit my education. My Schizo-Affective Disorder sharpened my intelligence and creativity. Before that phase of my life, I was already different, but with it, I now seemed inhuman (both in my and other people's eyes). During the first years, I tried in vain to reclaim my "humanity". I cried inside for the death of my normal life(when I was never normal to begin with). I tried connecting with my high school classmates, but I was disappointed to learn that I was already "Too different" from these different people. I was left alone with a solid few friends who were able to understand me. My psychologist wasn't helping either. She never really listened to me, for years of visits. During a session, in the late months of 2008, she told me that the cause of my problems was my "bad attitude". I walked out, vowing never to see her again. My family also treats me harshly for my illness. They think I'm being week. It was much worse during the first years. I was emotionally blackmailed and verbally bullied by my mom and siblings, badmouthing and humiliating me in public or at home, for minor reasons. They thought I was just being "weak" and could make myself normal, by straightening my act. I wanted to be normal too, but I couldn't. I was always disappointing them, always failing to meet their standards. I felt like a puppet or a Ken Doll, being forced to play their dreams and expectations of me. Eventually, I snapped and ran away from home for weeks. I sought refuge in a friend's house. I cut my ties to all the people I knew. I was coaxed to return home, but to this day, the pattern of verbal abuse repeats itself. Then I met the most compassionate and understanding friend I could ever have: my new psychologist. He was someone who knew what I was going through. He told me being different was not a crime, that having schizo-affective disorder wasn't the end of the world. People just won't understand me, but it was no crime to be myself. He was very frank to tell me that my condition was permanent, but I could make my life better by hanging on and trying, despite my dire circumstances. Till now, I suffer the same stigma of being different, but now I see it as a right and a blessing, an open defiance in an indifferent and ignorant society. It makes me stand out and become special. I don't have to be normal. All I need is to be me. I find inspiration in the song "Ordinary" by Train. This is how I view my life. I'm "different", more than ordinary.