I have had an anxious day today. I have been mulling over an idea that would be a risk for rejection. I have never handled rejection very well. That roots back to my days as a school student that had TS. Human beings have a great capacity to love, but they have sometimes an even greater capacity to be cruel, especially children. My road through middle school and high school was colored by my diagnosis of TS. I was diagnosed in the seventh grade when I was 11. I started that year having mostly vocal tics. This was very problematic in school, especially during class time. No one knew what was happening, least of all me or my parents. The tics really came to a head during my Social Studies class. The teacher of that class took it upon himself to assign a student to count the number of "frogs" (tics) I made during a class period. Since I knew this was being done, my anxiety and embarrassment was very real. Anxiety increases the incidence of tics, especially in a quiet circumstances. At this time too, I had yet to be medicated for the problem, so I had no help whatsoever to control the tics. I dreaded that class period each day. Class was bad enough let alone the knowledge of what was happening. This teacher finally started sending me to the nurse's office constantly and one day I remember looking at the Nurse's Pass. It stated "Tourette Syndrome?" I remember thinking to myself....what is that?? Do I have some disease? The teacher even went as far as giving me In School Suspension for disturbing the class. I was never so ashamed as I was proud of being a good student. It was the only thing I had going for me at the time Nevertheless the tormenting during class time continued. So much so, that my parents eventually petitioned and hassled the school until they pulled me out of the class and the guidance counselor eventually finished out the material with me. Later on, I would be finally diagnosed with TS and found out more about the condition. I have moved on from this and put it in the past. But I still to this day do not understand the teacher's actions, especially since he had an idea of what I might have had. I don't think I ever will for that matter. So as a result rejection is a very big risk for me, even more so possibly than for most people. There would also be much research for this project. Each step I think about promotes more anxiety. But then there is the reward looming up ahead. A feeling of accomplishing something worthwhile and maybe even a financial reward which would be a huge blessing given my circumstances. It has been a very long time since I have really felt good about myself for something I accomplished. Probably the last major accomplishment I had was quitting smoking about eight years ago. I really would love to feel that feeling of "Job well done" again. But what if I fail? Will I be able to pick my self, dust myself off, and start all over again, as the song goes? I guess time will tell. Nothing at all is certain in life, really. If I have learned anything from my mother's diagnosis with AD, that is one of them. She at 64 is not living the life that her and Dad had planned. Life is short. I think I know what I have to do. It's just a matter of doing it. And being OK with the consequences.
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