In Highschool my social anxiety was so bad(and still is) that I would skip class periods where I had to do a presentation of any kind. And then I would skip the make-up days for the periods I skipped.

I know that feeling.

At my high school, every few weeks (I think every other week, to be exact), we would have a late start on Wednesday, where class would begin at 10AM, rather than the normal 8AM in the morning. Until my mother had her days off switched, I would purposely stay home depending on how I was feeling because I was the only one at home by then. Course, when my mother had Wednesdays off, she forced me to go to school no matter what.

On the topic of presentations, I had a presentation as my last assignment in my senior year class of German. I never presented it due to having skipped the last day, due to being anxious talking in front of people alone, as well the fact I was so behind because I had the flu just a few days earlier (which is why I didn't have a partner to help me with my project). My teacher was cool enough with me to not make me present it on the next day, but he still marked it as a zero. Still didn't have to take the final due to my grades being well over 70%.

Out of all my teachers there, my German teacher and a few others were among the small number of teachers I actually liked. A lot of them were stuck-up assholes, and that statement wasn't limited to only teachers. People would get in trouble over simple things and interrogated over it. One time at lunch, we had a lock down over someone with an umbrella (they thought it was a gun), and the deans were anal about people having their phones out and trying to contract their parents. Not that we were a potential target sitting in a giant open cafeteria, obviously. Plenty of parents were confused and angry because they only found out after their kids told them what happened once they got home.

Then, there was also the time when I was hacking my lungs out, and even my classmates were concerned about me. I texted my mother with my cellphone to come pick me up, and she called the school, which put her on the phone with the nurse. Nurse sent a pass, and when my teacher at the time gave it to me, she even commented on how sick I looked. Nurse was too busy worried about how I contacted my mother (she gave me a "warning" for using my phone, and that "next time" it'd be a referral) and that it wasn't anything to pull me out of school, but my mother was already there, so I left anyway. Went to an actual doctor and I ended up being out of school for the rest of the week because of it.

I could continue ranting about my school, like how the bathroom stalls were missing doors left and right or didn't lock, or how one kid punched a window on my bus so hard it shattered, but I think those are stories for another time.

@Briza daym, Briza, that's intense. Glad you pulled through!

I tend to when frustrated don't think about anything else that made me angry and with a learning disability i have i feel like it is worse at times and feel like no one understands me

I don't remember High School that much; maybe a few isolated incidents. I know I was somewhat introverted then, feared everything and kept to myself, forget about making a presentation in front of a class or the whole school. I don't remember that happening at all. Once, I joined the army, that all changed. Military training gave me confidence, discipline and a strong work ethic. I fear nothing.

I took a class in College on Communications. I had to do several presentations there and it was fun. As an Infantry Officer, I served as a Battalion Personnel Officer for maybe a year or more. I was either a First Lieutenant or a Captain then. One year after Field Training Exercise (FTX), the battalion of 500+ soldiers stood in formation. As the Personnel Officer, awards and promotions were my responsibility. At a podium, I stood in front of the assembled battalion, the commander, the staff and several guests and visitors as well as an army band. My job was to call each soldier up to the Battalion Commander to be presented with a medal for some action they may have performed during the FTX. I had no problem doing this.

When I was between the ages of 29 and 32, I served as a Company Commander of an HHC (Headquarters and Headquarters Company) for an Infantry Brigade. I was a Captain at that time. Every day, I stood in front of the formation of soldiers in my company (~100) and addressed them on what the various sections were doing for training that day or what was going on in the unit.

I retired from the military 15 years ago but today, I am working as a Substitute Teacher and find the work very easy because of my experiences with the military. I am a very relaxed and laid back Sub, which I perceive the students liking. I am not anxious like some 20-something subs are because they are so fucking nervous standing in front a class. For me, it is no big deal. On the other hand, when I get a student who wants to push my buttons, I can handle him quite firmly. It is a fun gig and I am considering getting my state License to teach and be a Middle School Math teacher. Albeit, I will be an old math teacher and probably remain working until I am 70 only because this will be a career I start late in life.

Forget about High School. Once you are an adult and you overcome those immature insecurities, they will be ancient history and you won't remember them anyway. Do not let them get in your way. If there is something you want to do in life, do whatever it takes to get there. If you have a fear, engage in that activity that frightens you. Do not let anything get in your way. You can do anything as long as you put your mind to it.

So I've mentioned a long while ago on a separate thread how few dreams/nightmares I've had in my lifetime. And how the few I have now aren't very unique. But I never specified my weird dreams. So, here's one of my youngest/vividly remembered dream/nightmare.

So, I was going inside the karate dojo I went to for lessons. (Bonus Fact: Black Belt. My older brother, also a black belt with extra strips, also taught at the dojo for a bit. :3) So when I get inside, there's nobody but my instructor, some woman (though I remember the details, not important to the story.) and this younger classmate of mine. (She was a grade younger than my class, but she had advanced abilities in one or more of her subjects. I think most people liked her fine.) So, since I recognized her and I called for her. She answers me with "I hear something..." Pauses. Then she speaks, "Buzzzzzzzzzz." Suddenly, giants bees crash through the front glass and attack me. Shoves the stringer through my arm, which knocks me to the ground and the bees go away quickly afterward. And this woman and my mom (somehow) are in a panic and rush to my side as I stand up and look at a part of the stringer still stuck in my arm. The woman comes over and pulls at it, but when she takes it out she peels off all my skin off from my whole hand/arm which make it look black, rotten and full of holes. They look horrified. I wake up.

There's literally nothing that prompted this. It's also probably coincidental that I believe I was actually stung by bees, or maybe I remember being told that my mother was deathly allergic to them after the fact like a few days later. Young me always had an imagination.

Regardless of whether you recall a dream, you dream every night. I hardly remember mine too, but when I do, they are extra special like this one above. @SleepingSilence (Fun fact: My 12 and 13 year old children are black belts, as is their father. My 10, almost 11 year old is starting the black belt testing cycle on 9/7. If all goes well, she should be done by early December.)

When I'm bored and can't sleep, I tend to horribly dance around my bedroom while lip syncing to whatever song is playing. Usually happens between the hours of 2 and 5 am.

Speaking of youth and times in education as well as how generally irrelevant they are ultimately, I can note that I spent almost all of my time in a library as punishment; I was considered disruptive because I would challenge the regular dogma. I do not regret or lament the fact I never legitimately experienced the education system, what taste of it I had soured me to all of it, although I as consequence hold the opinion there is little it offers other than a glorified daycare. Furthermore, with the gaps of memory I have - the majority of my younger years lost, only black voids and emotions dotted by extremely vivid bits of recollection - I would safely say nothing of value really takes place in them. Barring one immensely important revelation in that it all revolves around those you know, be them tutors, teachers, peers, or otherwise. That, I would dare, is paramount for the rest of one's life.

The people who were kind and good to me I do not forget from that period, they are the sole icons I remember in a very unpleasant sea of emotion. I might have more or less been their prisoner, but they did legitimately attempt to and succeed in teaching me all manner of things. An example being that one of my punishments was being sent to sit in the vice principal's office and rather than force me to do all the mindless busywork I would have been in class and or lecture me, the man would instead tutor me on the topics he was going over for his master's degree in psychology.

People as that, those who make an impression and are important, even if not your friends, are what I would take away as valuable from the education system.

My son is playing football this year. This would be his first year and undoubtedly is only year. One day, he is up and loving football, the next he doesn't want to go to practice and hates it. The average height of the 6th grade 11 or 12 year old players is about 5' 2" or 5'3" and weigh about 120 Lbs. My son is 4' 10" and weighs 90 Lbs. Yes, he is one of the smallest on the team. He is one of the fastest runners on the team and the first week of practice he never dropped a ball thrown to him. Naturally, the coaches agreed to make him an offensive lineman because he is so bleeding large. /smh

As a result his frustration is difficult to contend with at times. With eight adult coaches, their eight sons get to play all the important roles on a football team.

My son is playing football this year. This would be his first year and undoubtedly is only year. One day, he is up and loving football, the next he doesn't want to go to practice and hates it. The average height of the 6th grade 11 or 12 year old players is about 5' 2" or 5'3" and weigh about 120 Lbs. My son is 4' 10" and weighs 90 Lbs. Yes, he is one of the smallest on the team. He is one of the fastest runners on the team and the first week of practice he never dropped a ball thrown to him. Naturally, the coaches agreed to make him an offensive lineman because he is so bleeding large. /smh

As a result his frustration is difficult to contend with at times. With eight adult coaches, their eight sons get to play all the important roles on a football team.

I played both baseball and soccer (football for you Europeans) as a kid. I ended up quitting soccer because my coach would rarely let me have a chance on the field, but when I stopped showing up to practice he had the gall to ask my mother why I wasn't showing up. Why practice for something you aren't even allowed to play?

I adore all kinds of monsters, be they from pop culture, mythology, and even urban legends/myths. Be it Godzilla, Cerberus, or Mothman, you name it, and I'm more than likely going to be interested in it.

I have all of my toes.

Im epic

Owing to my voice, I have been told I should consider a career in the line of voice acting and or narration. While it is very much a possibility and I have done it before, albeit to no named roles or anything of even slight relevance or importance, I do not discredit it.

I've been told I sound like a monotone hick, and I don't like talking, so a voice acting career probably isn't for me. Perhaps if I was simply talking into a microphone, then sure, but person-to-person? Probably not.

I have too many transgendered friends

I am a creature of routine and ritual where everything must be consistent and follow a pattern. The lifestyle of haphazard, sudden, and spontaneous choices is not one I can live and it mentally taxes my psyche. There are things that can and must be done, whereas others can be rearranged. When things become out of order I am alarmed and typically am the only one to notice something out of place. I trade versatility for mastery in the process of this.

I am a creature of routine and ritual where everything must be consistent and follow a pattern. The lifestyle of haphazard, sudden, and spontaneous choices is not one I can live and it mentally taxes my psyche. There are things that can and must be done, whereas others can be rearranged. When things become out of order I am alarmed and typically am the only one to notice something out of place. I trade versatility for mastery in the process of this.

Order and routine are comfort zones for me. I must admit that I enjoy a occasional spontaneity. It keeps you on your toes. On occasion, I will work a little into my children's lives to keep them on their toes as well. It is all done in good fun. Ultimately, both my wife and I are planners.