A memory

My name is Jimmie/James for a good part of my life(19 now) Ive dealt with the affliction of picking at my skin in places where Ive had acne, that and aspergers. Sometimes id take it too far causing large or deep wounds. I cant really remember when i started or exactly why my guess would be something to do with stress. Sometime in the past year or so my problem has changed significantly maybe because my will to stop or the fact that i,m getting older and my acne isn't as severe. I wouldn't say I'm "cured" but I have learned to take care of myself better I guess. The worst part of my problem I would say wasn't me it was others. I always felt terrible whenever someone gave me that look of disgust I know all to well or the things people used to say like quote "At least I don't have crap all over my face" unquote. Many times i felt like I should wear masks bandannas or turbans though I never did I always felt it would help me feel better about about myself (always thought it would be epic if I made a new fashion involving people wearing cool masks and head pieces like fancy metal face guards not happinin tho maybe some other time in my life when i can afford it...). There's moments in my life where I realized my problem basically ruled my life. One such time was when one of my high-school teacher had sent my mother a letter saying to her that saying she had suspected me of smoking meth on a regular basis (something Ive been asked about too many times I'm sure plenty of other had questioned it but never asked. I live in Arizona where that kind guess is not too big of an off shoot{and no I never have}). It wasn't the suspicion that bothered me it was the fact that that she didn't address me personally. Maybe she though it would hurt my already destroyed self esteem. She was a good person and it probably was her way of looking out me. however my parents are both kfucs(some word assembly required) and their combined knowledge probably barely exceeds mine, if that(or not but probably). The fact was that my parents would never have any idea what i was going through and where even farther from helping me. The thing id say that helped me with my problem the most was the acceptance of a very very few "kind"(kind isn't the exact word but close enough a few had anger problems misplaced rage, misanthropy, Etc...still nice tho) hearted people. someone who truly got to know me or knew me when we first met, maybe a little of both. they are the only people in life I could ever call family or friends(brother from another mother). Ironically they are not always the people I spend my time with even as I right this I feel a heavy guilty for not showing them my full gratitude or not hanging out with them at this moment. my original topic is of a memorie i had a few days ago about something that happened to me in the past. For a short while i was working at a subway near a place called Paradise Vally mall. One day while working three professional fancy and stylish older women(25-35 just a guess) walked in I presumed they where from a different part of town called Scottsdale which they were very likely hailing from. For those that don't know Scottsdale is like Beverly hills for Arizona a little slice of Cali. Its where all the cash money kings come gorge themselves on culture based almost entirely on money(Frankly it aint got no soul I think). I don't exactly remember what the group looked like but that ubiquitous face the first woman gave me when our eyes met made my soul cold. A face that people have making them transparent to those who have seen such a face staring at them. Im sick. The first thing she said to me before anything else was her commanding me to change my gloves. That's when time completely stopped everything around me was no longer seamed real.It wasn't that she was generally worried about getting sick from cross contamination or that she says that to every person who has served her food It was me. My affliction was not just a problem for me it was a social stigma affecting everyone who saw me it labeled me unclean to some and its one of the worst things Ive felt in my life. (for those that don't know at subway you are supposed to wash hands very often and change gloves every time you start and stop making subs). I was temped to tell her off the best i could and quit my job on the spot but i was shocked. Thinking back I wish i had, no amount of money is worth my self respect but, even if a had a second chance though I wouldn't want to live through it again. This was around the time that my problem was in full bloom my face was almost covered in marks and, i even remember some of my co-workers commenting on when they first met me that they guessed I used meth sad. One of my co-workers/bromigo saw what was altercating between me and this woman and stepped in to serve them I think he said something to cheer me up after and we might of hung out after work(kinda routine) but after that moment it was like going to sleep I couldn't describe it or remember anything afterwords. Some time later that week or so I remember coming into work very drunk and maybe blazed(16 at the time I wasnt absurdly drunk this was when my liver didnt have scars and I could out drink a camel out from underneath the table.{funny}). I went to the bathroom sometime in the work day and i looked in the mirror and saw myself exactly the way other people see me. for me its not the same as looking at my reflection on a normal day to day basis its a rare moment that happens to me almost never. when it does its usually in times of extreme emotional strife, euphoria, or drug induced retrospect. I don't remember the first time I really saw myself it might of have been that very day. maybe I knew how to as a young child and forgotten had over the years as I grew older. maybe I lost my sense of self or just never had one and lived as I was. After looking in the mirror for a minute or less I through up I felt bad. After cleaning up i headed of into the back to resume working. Within a few minutes I had a panic attack(I can only remember three altogether in my life so far). I worried my co worker/bro(he also smelled the alcohol due to having just puked and the hyperventilating) he thought something was wrong with me he was right. we went through the day with him handling customers and me mostly working in the back. after work we hung out in his apartment with his girlfriend I figured he did so as to make sure i was "safe"we chilled till like twelve a.m.. Sometime later(a few days or a week) I was working at night when a women around her twenties came in. I would her describe a very attractive, tall, and somewhere between Gothic and plain rock and roll with nice tattoos and clothes to match. she seemed smart and carried herself well(a soul brother of mine carries himself in the same manner.) generally nice and well mannered. she didn't order much. As i was preparing the food she asked for oregano and i commented it on being the Bob Marley special (joke from a movie) in a quite voice. I don't remember her reaction but i think she was pleased. At the counter she handed me a twenty dollar bill she said i could keep the change. I cant describe how felt after that other than light hearted. It wasn't the money that pleased me it was being treated nice. she left with a smile and that was that. My co-worker/friend commented on how she must of had liked me or something like that and called me lucky I think. For me it was a lucky day made. Personally I though it made up for that other time with that tbcih(some word assembly required.) all in all id say good and bad days leave marks on your soul like scars sometimes the bad days are just seem more prevalent. but ya that was the memorie that I had.