I refuse to be mocked by kids

Yesterday was quite a good day. I was pleased with the blog entry I wrote in the morning – the longest I’ve written for quite a while. The afternoon was spent out and about, mostly with Lyn at the cafe, where we enjoyed some delicious cake. Then, after dinner in the evening, I went to a film festival organisation meeting: preparations for September’s event are going really well, and, while I still have a few things to organise, I’m really looking forward to it.

After the meeting, though, something happened which got me down. We finished at about nine, and everyone was leaving Charlton House. Gavin and the others were heading for the White Swan for a drink. In times passed I’d have eagerly joined them, but I haven’t had a drink in almost a year and didn’t want to be tempted, so I crossed the road and started to head home.

All of a sudden, two boys on bikes started to insult me as I went past the take away. I was shocked: at the meeting I was respected; my input is valued, and I’m treated as any other member of the group. As we had left, we had been talking about my blog, with one guy saying how impressed he was with my entry yesterday. Suddenly these kids were trying to make fun of me simply for being disabled, saying things about my dribbling. They seemed to think it made them look big and hard.

The way in which I had suddenly been taken from respected member of a committee to object of mockery was too much for me to bear. I told a woman standing nearby who seemed to know these children that if she didn’t discipline them I would contact the police. She said she would, and at first I thought about hanging around to ensure she did, but it was getting late so I just sighed and continued my journey home. Frankly I would be surprised if she did anything.

This really is getting to me; it’s happening more and more. The same group of little twits think it’s fun to try to provoke and upset me. It just seems unfair – why should I have to tolerate it? I want to do something about it, but I don’t know what. Frankly, part of me wants to knock their blocks off, which I suppose is part of the problem: when I get agitated, I try to shout back, which they think is funny. That’s why they do it. I should therefore just ignore it, but I don’t see why I should have to put up with it. I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am today; to be trivialised, to be the object of mockery by some little shit who probably won’t achieve half of what I have, just infuriates me.

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