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Retard. Crippled. Hopeless. Flawed.

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Retard. Crippled. Hopeless. Flawed.

Those words, like a festering wound, would echo through my being and cause a mental pang that left me enraged and unsettled.

I guess some would say that I was oversensitive – I mean they were just words. Silly, stupid words that I should have been able to let roll off my back. At least this is the coping advice I was given my whole life (drastically easier said than done, mind you). The memories however, the ones that crawled into my mind when I heard such words, were unavoidable and couldn’t be easily forgotten. What are you really supposed to do when words such as these, are used to define your differences?

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