“You Have A Chip On Your Shoulder!”


“Derek, you need to be more positive! You walk around like you have a chip on your shoulder!”

I’ve been told this many times. However, I have never really understood what it means. Teachers used to say it when I appeared unhappy and that I wanted to be anywhere else but in school. Typically, I just shrug it off. I am not one to take cheap advice from people who don’t have any idea what it is like to live with Asperger’s, Depression and Anxiety. I Googled the term “chip on your shoulder” and the following Urban dictionary entry was one of the first results.

Chip on his shoulder commonly refers to someone who has a self-righteous feeling of inferiority or a grudge. An example would be someone always bringing up how they are or were disadvantaged in some way.”

That definition brought back my memories to my sixth-grade homeroom teacher. To avoid the risk of starting a keyboard war, I am not going to mention this teacher’s real name. However, my mother and I did not think highly of her. She exhibited several tendencies that I felt were completely unacceptable for any teacher, but especially one responsible for educating students who were preparing to transition into junior high. Among her many unappealing traits, she had the tendency to say things that were very insensitive and disrespectful to my struggles and those of other students. On top of that, there were several instances where she would make them the center of attention. Knowing that sixth grade was eleven years ago, my memory is fuzzy. There is one situation, however, that I can remember quite distinctly.

I was working on something at my desk. Everyone else was talking and carrying on because the teacher walked out of the room for a minute or two. When she returned, my concentration was when she spoke in a very demanding voice. “Derek Warren! That is not your desk! That is everybody’s desk! Put your pencil down and clean it out!” The classroom was noisy, so I looked at her and tried to comprehend what she just said. So, my lack of an instant response compelled her to yell. “Stop staring at me like a deer in headlights and clean out your desk!” The entire classroom to became silent. She looked at everyone else, laughed and then commented. “Wow! That got everyone quiet!” Everyone laughed. They knew she didn’t like me and didn’t quite know how to handle me. (Plus, she was the “cool” sixth-grade teacher.)

Sixth grade was a very awkward time for me. It was the very first year I, along with my classmates, was assigned a different teacher and classroom for each subject. (The principal felt this was the best approach towards preparing us students for our transition into the pubescent years known as “junior high.”) Regardless, The whole routine of going from classroom to classroom was a major struggle for me. It impacted my organizational skills and my ability to keep track of assignments. I look back at that whole situation and realize one thing. I was a tough kid in some respects. I certainly knew I was different during that time. But, I knew little about Asperger’s Syndrome. The following important lesson never occurred to me until years later. People are bound to become frustrated when they are forced to work or interact with someone who exhibits idiosyncrasies like mine.

I never told anyone about this experience, including my parents. Some may think it is silly to feel upset about a teacher who insisted on running her mouth towards me. I agree with them. Regardless, this memory has always stuck with me. She failed to understand how insulting that remark was, irrespective of whether it was deliberate or just a “slip of the tongue.” Let’s think about it. The common perception of deer is that they are not the most intelligent creatures. (Click here for an article that explains why deer stare at headlights!) Organization was always one of my biggest shortcomings throughout my experience in the public school system. I have always been aware of it, but, habits are never easy to break. Her intent did not matter to me. She was trying to claim that I am stupid only because I didn’t instantly react to her demands.

What is the appropriate response to someone who is truly ignorant and insensitive about my peculiarities? That is not an easy one to ponder. What may be appropriate in one situation may be unacceptable in another. Some may not want to hear this, but, it is an important thing to keep in mind. We are not always as innocent as we think. It is important to take a minute and remind ourselves that diagnosis does not mean exempt from the basic rules of social conduct.

Have you never said anything that people may find disrespectful and insensitive to any of their personal struggles?

Have you never condescended to someone because you think your beliefs and experiences outweigh their own?

I greatly struggled with knowing when I was in the wrong. Some of it was due to the lack of basic social conduct. There are only two things I can do when people call me on that. Apologize and make sure it doesn’t happen again. However, I will never apologize for the things that make me stand out from everyone else. We live in a world which continues to punish those who dare to be different. It took me a long time to develop the courage to say that. It is the one thing that puts me one step closer to overcoming that chip on my shoulder from adolescence. The next step is going back to school and pursuing an English Degree. Improving my writing skills for a broad range of possibilities is the one thing that will help me overcome this “chip on my shoulder.”

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It Was The Worst Day of My Life (Recognizing Emotions and Overcoming Them)


I have written about depression and mental illnesses several times. I wrote about the tragic death of Robin Williams. I expressed great disappointment in Fox News analyst Shepard Smith and his claim that Williams was a “coward” for taking his own life. I am someone who firmly believes that a mental illness should never define everything about who we are. However, the human mind can be a very fragile thing. It can often cause us to do things we never knew we were capable of doing. These things can certainly be wonderful, but they can also be devastating and tragic.

I recently read a story about Virginia Gentiles, a mother from Pasadena, California. She is suing a local Target store for false imprisonment, intentional infliction of emotional distress, negligence and wrongful death.

http://www.nbclosangeles.com/news/local/Target-Faces-Lawsuit-Over-Employees-Suicide-289662711.html

Her son, Graham Gentles, committed suicide on July 18, 2014. Three days earlier, store security and local police met him at the front of the store as he arrived early. They grabbed him, emptied his pockets and hat, then paraded him around the store to an office. This practice is commonly called “the walk of shame.” 

“The walk of shame is a Target policy to purposely cause shame, embarrassment and emotional distress to any Target employee who is suspected of stealing from Target. The policy consists of employees being arrested and paraded in handcuffs through the Target store in full view of co-workers and customers.”

Long story short, the alleged harassment was not because he stole from the store. Graham’s mother stated that the supposed theft was all fabrication by the multiple media outlets that have reported on this story. It was due to a previous altercation that occurred between him and an employee, which also happened months beforehand. After being taken paraded around the store, police drove him to the local station for questioning and released without any charges filed. To add more devastation, he was wrongfully fired from his job. When he spoke to his mother about the ordeal, he said it was the worst day of his life. Unfortunately, this day was so terrible, he decided to take his own life because he could not bear the pain and humiliation anymore.  

Reactions from the public have ranged from very supportive and sympathetic to downright hateful and disrespectful. I cannot say that this surprises me, mainly because mental illness is such an under recognized issue in our world today. Normally, I would agree that the loss of a job alone is not a reason to commit suicide. However, this is the dark side of living with a neurological disorder like Asperger’s Syndrome. The emotional pain we experience in life can overpower our ability to think things through and find ways to cope. 

If there is anything this story has taught me, it is the sheer importance of finding positive ways to cope with negative emotions. It doesn’t matter what I am feeling or going through. Sometimes, I have no choice but to think it through and try to understand why I am feeling this way. This is when I like to take time to myself. I use what I do best. My gift in writing. “My Letter to Steve Grand” is one of those examples. I don’t normally share these writings with people. However, I decided to make a rare exception this time. 

Please understand that crushes, love and romance are very new feelings for me. Life with Asperger’s Syndrome has always made me a loner. The high school social scene considered me the loner who was a “loser.” I was an awkward, uncoördinated kid with zero confidence who walked around with a scowl on his face. My “phases” changed throughout that time. I refrained from talking to anyone for most of those 4 years, and then I became this kid who could not control himself and acted out just for the sake of acting out. I desperately needed a way to handle my pain and that was the only release I could find.

When I was a small child, my issue with emotions was not recognizing them. I’ve always known what I am feeling. However, there were times when I knew my emotions way too much. The thing is, it is still one of my demons today. My mammaw and papaw (southern talk for grandma and grandpa) used to tell me this story from when they came to visit us in Pennsylvania. It goes back to when I was somewhere between three and four years old.

We were celebrating my sisters 6th birthday. The local bowling alley was our chosen venue. The familiar sounds of bowling balls hitting the pins, people chatting and music playing filled the bustling local hangout. My attention was not focused on any of that. It was focused on the family to the right of us. They also happened to be celebrating a birthday and rented a helium tank and were using it to blow up balloons. I immediately covered my ears. I was terrified of the possibility that they were going to pop. My attention became hyper focused on those balloons and the possibility that they were going to burst and make a loud sound. 

Crying was the only way I knew how to handle it. My mammaw tried to give me a set of ear plugs, but that didn’t help. My papaw sensed that I needed to get out of the noisy room for a few minutes. I needed to tell him what was wrong and I needed to be reassured. While he did not say it in these exact words, this was the gist of the message he gave to me. 

“The world is full of things that are much scarier than balloons popping.” 

That is the one thing that we all need to be reminded. The world is full of things that cause a lot more pain. Sometimes, those experiences are directly caused by our tendency to negatively dwell upon those little things. I failed to realize that when I was a young child. I failed to realize it when I was in high school and feared that people were not going to like me. I fail to realize it today when I discover that things just don’t work out the way I anticipated them to. The big question is, how do we stop it from dictating our lives?

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Being Brave (In A Cowardly World)


Selfish: having or showing concern for only yourself and not for the needs or feelings of other people. 

Coward: 1.) someone who is too afraid to do what is right or expected 2.) someone who is not at all brave or courageous. 

Fox News analyst Shepard Smith was recently put under fire for insulting comments regarding the recent death of actor and comedian Robin Williams. The 63 years old man committed suicide on August 11, 2014. Smith referred to William’s death as “cowardly” in a recent news segment. 

One of the children he so loved, one of the children grieving tonight. Because their father killed himself in a fit of depression. It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? You could love three little things so much, watch them grow, they’re in their mid-20s, and they’re inspiring you, and exciting you, and they fill you up with the kind of joy you could never have known. And yet, something inside you is so horrible or you’re such a coward or whatever the reason that you decide that you have to end it.

Rightfully so, his comments were not well received. Criticism has come from people who know how it feels to live with severe Depression. Many have actually contemplated or attempted suicide. They know how it feels to reach that point where you feel like there is no hope. They are left with two choices. Do I end it all or do I face my fears and find the help I need? I live with Asperger’s Syndrome, a mild form of the neurological disorder known as Autism. I still find it difficult to connect with people, even though I try so hard to do so. Whether I like it or not, I have to do it if I want to survive on my own. This condition has made me especially vulnerable to Depression and Social Anxiety. I am also a gay man. I love men! It has taken me a long time to find the confidence to say that. I am this complex person who nobody else will even care to understand or even get to know. (At least that is what I hear from the occasional troll who loves to comment on my blog.) The truth is, Depression is a very difficult topic for me to explain. It is mainly because the condition affects people in many ways. Australian writer and illustrator Matthew Johnstone described his journey towards overcoming Depression in his book “I Had a Black Dog (And his Name Was Depression.)” As the title suggests, the black dog was used as a metaphorical alternative to the word depression. 

I had a black dog and his name was Depression. Whenever the black dog made an appearance, I felt empty and life just seemed to slow down. He would surprise me with a visit for no reason or occasion. The black dog made me look and feel older than my years. When the rest of the world seemed to enjoy life, I could only see it through the black dog. Activities that used to bring me pleasure, suddenly ceased to. He liked to ruin my appetite. 

I have learned not to beat myself up and try to figure out the exact cause of my symptoms. Personally, I don’t care if it is directly because of my Asperger’s, obliviousness to my sexuality or just biology and genetics. I was shy, socially challenged and closeted kid who insisted he was “just going through a phase.” If I were to suddenly find out the cause of all my problems, I can guarantee that my symptoms would worsen. I would be this miserable, unhappy guy who constantly focused on everything that is wrong in my life. They could even push me to the breaking point. I know that I have to stop it from going there if I want to survive in this world. It’s very hard to do, but life is not always a walk in the park. 

He chewed up my memory and my ability to concentrate. Doing anything, or going anywhere with the black dog required superhuman strength. At social occasions, he would sniff out what confidence I had and chase it away. My biggest fear was being found out. I worried that people would judge me. Because of the shame and stigma of the black dog, I was constantly worried about being found out. So, I invested vast amounts of energy into covering him up. Keeping up and emotional lie, is exhausting. Black dog could make me think and say negative things. He could make me irritable and difficult to be around. He would take my love, and bury mine to the sea. He loved nothing more than to wake me up with highly repetitive and negative thinking. He also loved to remind me how exhausted I was going to be the next day.

Having a black dog in your life isn’t so much about being a bit down, sad or blue. At its worst, it’s about being devoid of feeling all together. As I got older, the black dog got bigger and he started hanging around all the time. I’d chase him off with whatever I thought might send him running, but more often than not, he’d come out on top. Going down became easier than getting up again. So, I became really good at self medication, which never really helped. Eventually, I felt totally isolated from everything and everyone. The black dog had finally succeeded in hijacking my life. When you lose all joy in life, you can begin to question what the point of it is. 

Thankfully, this was the time that I sought professional help. This was my first step towards recovery and a major turning point in my life. I learned that it doesn’t matter who you are, the black dog affects millions and millions of people. It is an equal opportunity mongrel. I also learned there is no silver bullet or magic pill. Medication may help some, but others need a difficult approach altogether. I also learned that being emotionally genuine and authentic towards those close to you can be an absolute game changer. Most importantly, I learned not to be afraid of the black dog and I taught him a few new tricks of my own. The more tired and stressed you are, the louder he barks. So, it’s important to learn how to quiet your mind. It’s been clinically proven that regular exercise can be as effective to treating mild to moderate depression as anti depressants. So, go for a walk or a run and leave the mutt behind.  Keep a mood journal! Getting your thoughts on paper can be cathartic and often insightful. Also, keep track of the things that you have to be grateful for.

The most important thing to remember is that no matter how bad it gets, if you take the right steps, if you talk to the right people, black dog days will pass! I wouldn’t say that I am grateful for the black dog, but he has been an incredible teacher. He forced me to reevaluate and simplify my life. I learned that rather than running away from my problems, it’s better to embrace them. The black dog will always be a part of my life, but he will never be the beast that he was! We have an understanding! I’ve learned through knowledge, patience, discipline and humor, the worst black dog can be made to heal. If you’re in difficulty, never be afraid to ask for help. There is absolutely no shame in doing so. The only shame is missing out on life!

Matthew Johnstone “I Had A Black Dog (And His Name Was Depression) 

If there is anything that Depression has taught me, it is that none of my differences entitle me to sympathy from other people. When I meet a new person, you will never hear me say anything like this. “Hi! I’m Derek! I’m gay, I have Asperger’s Syndrome and I’m Depressed! Woe is me!” The only way I will ever believe that someone genuinely respects me is if they chose to look beyond all of those things that make me appear “different” from the rest of society. I do not care if people know that I am gay. I have grown used to the fact that people are going to find out sooner or later. However, I have a very different expectation for disclosing my diagnosis. Should I ever tell any person I meet, they must not disclose it to anyone else without my explicit permission. I know that people can be very judgmental when they find out someone has an Autistic Spectrum Disorder. They believe the stereotypes portrayed in fictional television shows and by news media outlets. (For example: Dr. Virginia Dixon on Grey’s Anatomy and Dr. Temprence Brennan on Bones.) I wrote that heartfelt letter to Steve Grand because I was confident in the belief that he was actually willing to listen. I hate to be this way, but most people could care less. I am greatly improving in my ability to “hide” my symptoms at times and places when it is necessary to do so. I must admit, it can be very overwhelming! Society does not think “high functioning Autism” is a “legitimate disability.” Regardless, it is “legitimate” to me! 

There is one thing I have learned about the tragic death of Robin Williams. When the world overwhelms, frustrates and saddens me, there still is hope. I am not selfish. I am not a coward. I am just someone who needs help coping with the world. It took me a long time to realize that. I often wonder if Robin would still be here if someone would have told him those words. Even if it cannot bring him back, it can still help people who feel like they have lost hope. That is one of the many reasons why I write the way I do! 

 

 

Asperger’s Syndrome and Depression


Doctors and Psychiatrists have discovered that there is a high risk of depression and anxiety in kids with Aspergers Syndrome, especially in their teenage and young adult years. Teenagers with the disorder usually deal with the stress of not fitting in with the crowd. Individuals with the disorder have the difficulty dealing with change, as I have mentioned before. The change from living in the house to moving to college on their own can cause some depression and anxiety as well. Because of their odd, and limited interests, they don’t understand how to appropriately interact with other people, especially peers. Because of the fact that they don’t know how to interact with other people and stand up for themselves, they can be susceptible to verbal, physical and cyber bullying. Dealing with situations like this are the most common causes of depression and anxiety in people with Aspergers Syndrome. Because many teens and young adults with this disorder don’t know how to handle these situations appropriately, they could get into behaviors such as drugs or alcohol. This can most likely worsen their depression and anxiety and cause them to even resort to more extreme behaviors, even suicide. Depression in individuals with Aspergers Syndrome is very common, suicide however is not, but it still could happen if nothing is done about the symptoms. I never have and never will think about doing something as extreme as that, but if I didn’t get the help I needed for my symptoms, I most likely could have. I am going to talk about some of the experiences that caused my depression, a few of them I have mentioned before.

In my very first blog, I mentioned how high school was an even worse experience than junior high was. The Freeport Senior High school is larger than the junior high is, but not by much. The first reason the transition from middle school to high school was miserable for me was because it had more people than the junior high did. Yes, I realize that its not as big as places like Butler or Fox Chapel, but it was pretty crowded. Another thing that really caused me to be depressed was that I we were the youngest grade in the school, and I was picked on more than most of the people than my grade because I was shy. As I have mentioned many times before, people would often take advantage of me and try to convince me that they were trying to be my friend, when they really were not. They seemed to realize that I had a difficulty understanding when people were trying to be friendly to me versus trying to make fun of me. Because of this, I did not “fit in” with the people at my school. I didn’t really have anyone to sit with at lunch or hang out with after school or on weekends. People tended to avoid letting me sit with them, and they would often make excuses like “More people are going to sit there, you are going to have to move”. They were your typical snobby, stuck up high school student. That was one of the things that really contributed to my loneliness, depression and anxiety. This, however could have been prevented if I put myself out there more, letting all of the arrogant jerks get to me really contributed to why I was so depressed and lonely when I attended Freeport. With the exception of a few individuals, students at Lenape Tech have enough sense to realize that teasing someone is uncalled for, because they are going into technical fields that involve working with people.

Aside from depression, I also had problems with anxiety in school, and I still do now. Anytime I would get put into social situations, I would always tense up and fear that they would try to do something mean to me. I would prevent that from happening by  simply ignoring the person when they would speak to me. This was because of all the teasing and bullying I got in past years, and I still tense up when I am around new people. When you are teased and picked on by people, it’s real hard for a person to come out of their shell and open up to somebody. I opened up to my friend Aaron B at Computing Workshop real easy because it is a safe environment for me, this program is supposed to help students on the spectrum with their academic and social goals. I know that if they do try to harass me or any of the students in the program in any way, they are automatically removed. That is not true in most public high schools, they usually get that same old “don’t do that again” lecture, which usually doesn’t do anything. As I have mentioned before, many schools tend to blame the victim instead of the bully. Because I would tense up and ignore people when they would see me in the hallway, they tended to judge and label me. I got labeled loner and reject by most people.

The main reason for why I got labeled by people was because they didn’t understand me. Who were they to judge someone without understanding why? I have learned that most people my age have similar feelings of not belonging. Even the popular kids feel insecure about some things, and making fun of somebody makes them feel less insecure about themselves. I feel that having only one or two close friends is enough for me, I don’t want to be “normal” or “popular”. Even though Aaron doesn’t have the time to spend with me, I am still very glad to have him as a friend. One or two friends is really all I need. Popularity doesn’t really matter after high school is over with, so why should I get all depressed about it? I’ve learned that people who think something is wrong with me, means that something is wrong with them. I hope that you all found this informative and inspiring, and I will be back to write again soon!

My blog about my high school experiences:

https://dwarren57.wordpress.com/2009/07/21/problems-i-faced-in-public-high-school/

How did I deal with bullies?


Bullying has been a large problem in schools for many years. It happens in almost every school in the entire world, and has been the cause of many school shootings. The two largest ones were The Columbine High School Shootings on April 20, 1999, and the Virginia Tech shooting on April 16, 2007. No matter where you live, every single person in the world has been through some type of bullying at least once in their lives. Whether it be physical, verbal, hazing, emotional, indirect or cyberbullying. The website kidshealth.org says that the two main reasons kids are bullied are because of their appearance or social status. Reasons for why their social status may be low are their religious beliefs, gender, perceived sexual orientation, or skin color. This cruel behavior not only affects the person being bullied, it affects school teachers and administrators, the student body, and even a whole community. In this blog entry, I wanted to tell a few of my bullying stories, and how I dealt with them.

I never really was physically bullied, because I was taller than almost everybody in the school, but I have been verbally bullied, and cyberbullied. Freeport Area School District has a zero tolerance policy towards bullying, and in every classroom they have a sheet posted about what it is, and the consequences you can face for it. On the bottom of that sheet it said that it is supposed to be posted in every classroom in every school building. I just finished my sophomore year this year, and they just started requiring every teacher to post one of these in their classrooms. I remember one day I was an office assistant, and they just finished photocopying all of these sheets. I was supposed to walk into every classroom and place these sheets on the teachers desks. In one of the classrooms I went to, I handed the sheet directly to the teacher, and they just crinkled it into a ball and threw it into the recycling bin. This is living proof that a zero tolerance policy isn’t enough. “Social skills” groups try to teach kids on the autistic spectrum how to stand up for themselves to bullies, but there have been many situations where the victim gets in trouble and not the bully. Far to often, the bully pushes the victim to the limit until they have had enough, and the victim end up physically hurting the bully. Of course, this is when a teacher sees this happen, and the victim get the punishment. Far too often teachers end up giving the one minute long “don’t do that again” speech. The bully will obviously pay no attention to this, and think “I hate this person, so I’m going to bully them even more.”

As I said before, I was never really physically bullied. The only two types of bullying I ever experienced were electronically and verbally. Freshman year was by far the worst year out of all my years in school. There was one student named Cody that made school even worse for me. He was considered our “class clown”, and was also one of the trouble makers in the school. I am about six foot, and he would have to be even more than a foot shorter than I am. He thought that because he was “Mr. short class clown” that he had the right to make fun of other people. He would always make kissing noises and say things like “I love you Derek”. I noticed he would do this in places like the locker room, where the teacher’s didn’t usually supervise the students. I noticed that he would also do this to try and make the other students laugh, which he usually didn’t succeed because nobody payed any attention to him in the first place. I didn’t want to tell on him because I was afraid that he would make fun of me even more if I did, so I just kept it quiet. I also noticed that he would try to do these strange and inappropriate behaviors to try to get a reaction from me, which he didn’t. I just kept on ignoring him. When he noticed that I ignored him, he would ask me “What’s wrong Derek? I’m only trying to be your friend.” He seemed to think that I had trouble understanding whether someone is really trying to be my friend, and who was not. I’m obviously a lot smarter than he thinks I am, and he thought that I would fall for it.

My freshman year was the time I also had a Myspace profile. I remember getting a friend request from a guy named Michael. He did one of the things that many bullies do to people, pretending to be nice. The incident started off when I asked him what he was up to. Keep in mind that I had no idea this was going to happen, then he started sending me pornographic pictures of himself, and Cody. I text messaged him a message demanding he stopped, then he sent a message asking me if I wanted to fight with him. After he sent me about four more pictures, I called him and said “If you keep sending me this pictures, I will report you to law enforcement.” He responded saying something like “wow, that’s gay”. The end result left about 30 pictures from him on my phone. The next day I reported him to the principal, and he gave the two boys the usual “don’t do it again” speech. My next period class was gym, and Cody was in it. I walked into the locker room and he started telling everybody this ridiculous story that he and Michael were sending pictures of his arm, and that I accused them of sending pornographic pictures of himself to my phone. Sophomore year, I had to sit behind him in my Drivers Ed class. He always performed the rude tricks he always tried to perform on me, making the kissing noises, and saying “I Love You”. Of course, nobody paid any attention to him in the first place. My mother and I finally had enough and they talked to the guidance counselor once again. Yet again, he gave the typical “don’t do that again” speech. As usual, the behavior continued until I put my foot down and went to the guidance counselor myself. They finally decided to kick him out of Freeport. They said this kid also had some other behavior issues that were effecting his performance in school. They didn’t say what they were, and I really didn’t care what they were. I was just happy that I didn’t have to deal with him in school anymore.

Unfortunately, not all bullying situations end in a positive note. One of the things that happens to people that have been bullied is that many of them become bullies themselves. They might think “I don’t have to deal with this, I can do it myself”. Bullying has also lead to many teen suicides, one of the most notable being the death of Ryan Patrick Halligan, a thirteen year old from Vermont that was physically bullied and cyberbullied by students from his middle school. The students befriended him so they could get his personal information, and later humiliate him about it. On the morning of October 7, 2003 Ryan hanged himself. John P. Halligan, Ryan’s father discovered the cyberbullying on Ryan’s personal laptop. Ryan’s story was on the PBS TV show Frontline, on a special titled “Growing Up Online”. Mr. Halligan later discovered that he had an online relationship with a girl he had a crush on. Ryan apparently told the girl “something too personal”, which Ryan thought would be funny. Immediately after he said that, the girl started a rumor that he was gay. The girl told Ryan in person, “Ryan your a loser, I was only pretending to like you online for a good laugh”. Ryan then said, “it’s girls like you that make me want to kill myself.”

Stories like this are the reasons for why I think a zero tolerance policy isn’t enough. I would never think of doing something as extreme as Ryan did, but bullying did affect how I trust people. I am doing better at understanding who my friends are and who they aren’t, but it still is hard. When I ask friends if they want to get together, and they say they are too busy, I have the tendency to worry that they have may have something against me, or that they might later try to make fun of me. When I meet new people, especially peers, I have the tendency to worry that they might have something against me and not want to talk to me, or that they might trick me into thinking they want to be my friend, when they really want to use me and make fun of me. There are times when my friend Aaron doesn’t have the time to hang out with me, and I understand that. I have known him for a long time, and I understand that he is still my friend. Bullying caused me to worry about things like that, and I’m getting better at improving my confidence around new people. I’m not going to let one or two bullies bring me down. If you can sense that someone is being bullied, be sure you tell an adult as soon as possible. Think of the consequences that could occur if you don’t do anything about it. I really hope you found this blog informative, and I hope that you will show this to someone who may have trouble with bullying in the future.

http://www.denpubs.com/Articles-c-2009-04-15-52351.113116_Bullyingthe_tragic_death_of_Ryan_Halligan.html
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