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Rambling

Posted January 26th, 2011 at 7:21 PM by Shanghai Alice

You want to know why I started banging my head against the wall when I walked into your classroom?

Sure, I may have been joking at first, but I was smashing my head against a wall as hard as I reasonably could, without any intention of stopping (Until you ordered me to) for one reason:

Impulse. I did what felt natural at the time.

I don't like this "class." In fact, I hate it. Do I have any rational reason for hating it? No, not really. And I fully admit that I'm blowing it completely out of proportion.

But that's with a clear head. That's with a month's detachment from it all. Now that Driver's Ed is over... Now that I have to face the idea of returning to it all...

Well, you saw the results of that, and I felt it in the form of a headache for the next twenty minutes. Nothing permanent, or serious. Just like my hatred of that room.

[I]What was that?[/I] you ask me. You want to know [I]why[/I] I hate the band.

There is no rational [I]why.[/I] There is no neat explanation, no nicely logical reason for me hitting my forehead against plaster. Sure, it wasn't really as hard as I make it out to be, probably as hard as one would knock on a door.

But still, it [I]hurt[/I], and it felt [I]good.[/I]

So maybe, there is a reason [I]why.[/I] One to your liking? No. One to my liking? [I]Hell no.[/I] I'm a person who lets his impulses control him, definitely a little too much.

Like I said, I did what felt natural. There was no planning, no forethought. I just dropped my books, turned around, and began banging my head against a wall. Just a typical day in my life, eh?

You don't see anyone else doing it? Yeah? You don't see anyone else doing a lot of the things I do. Maybe they do worse things, maybe they think I'm some sort of Satan. But never on my wavelength. Never like I do it.

Or maybe I'm just telling myself that in some twisted attempt to make myself feel better. And, as I'll openly admit, I have a penchant for being overdramatic sometimes. My situation isn't as bad as I make it out to be, or, at least, not from my point of view. I honestly think it's fairly normal. Because, hey, it's my life.

Anyway, back to the [I]why.[/I] I think I got a little bit sidetracked from there, but that's the whole reason I started this one-sided conversation.

I'm not the kind of person that goes around picking fights, or, at least, not intentionally. At any rate, I'm not the kind of person that goes around winning fights, or even letting off steam with fights, be they physical or mental.

Rather, I'm the person who seems to enjoy resetting the mousetrap right before setting it off again. Sometimes I know it's a trap, sometimes I don't. The point is, it goes off, and that puts another layer of stress on me.

I'm a cynic at times, and an optimist at times. I like to think everything'll work out, but I'm not above letting my own thoughts and dreads spiral out of control. You know that, I'm assuming.

And, yeah, you tell me to suck it up and get on with it. And, curse it all, you're right. Sure. But, sometimes, I want to wallow in self pity. And, of course, I know I shouldn't, so I don't.

I stuff it all down. I don't know how to strike a balance between giving my problems a proper amount of attention, and "sucking it up." So, as a result... I lash out.

Last year, I would end the weeks feeling angry, or simply miserable. Once, I snapped. I'd start screaming into the nearest soft thing, or start hitting whatever I couldn't break, pounding it with everything I had.

Was that because of band? No. But it certainly would've helped if I hadn't had such a crappy day. If you hadn't tried to cheer me up, in that absolutely irritating way. All I wanted to do was gain the satisfaction of smashing my phone against the wall as hard as I could. Instead, of course, I had to listen to your concern.

I know you try, and you really mean it. I honestly do. And I'm sure you probably see me in a better light than I see myself. But the point is, there's a large failure in communication here. That, or it's all me.

It's always all me, and that's what I've been telling myself, so I believe it. I know it's not true, or at least I hope it's not, which then gets me to think that I'm just desperate to feel good about myself, so, in an attempt to counteract that, I try to save time by simply assigning myself all the blame.

It's always all me. See what happened, how it came full circle? And what did that solve? Nothing. It only added more noise to my head, more confusion.

More stress.

I don't know how to deal with a rush of stress. Laughing hysterically? Tried it, it made it worse. People thought I was laughing at them, and I paid for it. Yeah, I was forcing it a little, but I needed to laugh, needed to get it all out. Other people's problems...

I listen to other people's problems, they tell me to suck it up. Sure, all I give is an ear, and I let my own problems out, but I feel like I'm just ranting at them. I rarely ever feel that people mean it when they ask me what's wrong.

But they ask, so I answer.

Where was I going?

Right, other people's problems. It's funny, isn't it? I always say how people just dismiss me, yet what I'm about to say blatantly contradicts my own statement, on the surface.

People should learn to not bother others with their issues.

Total contradiction, right? Not really. I'm merely stating that people should learn not to bother others with problems. I never said people shouldn't help others.

There's a difference. Oftentimes, people suck me into their issues without even giving me an opportunity to help either one of us find a way out. My parents (As much as I have to say about them, I really do love both of them as my parents. Easy to say about one, but harder with the other one. I love the other one as well, even if I get caught up in my emotions) sometimes stack their problems on me, except for not so much anymore. Mom tries to respect my part in this, to see where I stand and understand that.

Dad, and I know that this is going to sound like I have daddy issues, and I guess I do, really didn't. And yet, he wasn't as horrible as I like to believe. I know that, and I don't know what position to take.

Still, I don't know. I say all this, and I don't know. Should I seek help? Yes. Yes I should, for my sake. What would I say?

Nothing I haven't said already, to be honest. Sure, she's offered me help, and I've taken her up on that offer. But, after the initial surge, the stream dries up. Of course, I can't take up all of her time. I know that, and I'd be selfish if I didn't. And yet, I feel bad because I don't want her to think I'm blowing her off. I guess she doesn't, because we both have lives to get on with.

Am I happy? Am I a wreck in life, and what are the criteria for such a condition? I'm in a well-off family, of course. So, what does that mean? It could mean a lot of things, and any position I take can be just as easily shot down by a different one of my moods.

The point is...

Is there a point? There's a solution, or is there? We're always taught there's a solution. 3x+2y=5z. There's a solution, and it all neatly works out.

Real life? Not so much.

But what would I know? I haven't even tasted real life, and I'm just in high school.

When I get out of my comfortable environment, where I'm debating this even when I'm living in all the luxuries of the modern age...

[I]Oh Hell[/I]. I don't even want to think about it.

Then again, I'll adapt. Somehow. Most people do, and it always works out.

[I]It always works out.[/I]
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