i apologize (to my friend laura, who i think is the only one reading this) however due to a virus on my laptop, i cannot get on the computer too often. my mom is addicted to facebook. without 'fluffriends' 'hatchlings' or 'pet society' i wonder if she would have a social life or hobby at all. before facebook it was television. it has now migrated to television and facebook.
and, to add to the amusement: my grandma is also addicted.
and her computer is currently being worked on.
so my mom is on double the time she normally is...
spledfirous.
splediferous?
splendiforous...
hmm.
i suppose for a made up word spelling doesn' t matter.
unless it isn't made up...?
at any rate, a recent blog (recent would equal today) by stephen christian reminded me of how much the opinions of everyone shapes who we are... it made me think of back in my elementary school days (and they are not too long ago, my school was a k-8 school. so i considered jr. high to be elementary. my high school is three of the k-8 schools, each school being in it's own small town. my entire school is just over 400.)
i was always the 'model child' because i did as i was asked. the only 'real acting out' was two temper tantrums (i knew that they wouldn't get me what i wanted, i just threw a tantrum anyhow. i don't know why. i didn't even want anything.) and two accounts of cutting up clothing i didn't like. (with safety scissors. now that's impressive.) and those were all when i was seven and under.
maybe that was why everyone seemed to dislike me...
i would read through recess many times, and when i didn't i would sit and swing. swing and daydream. always by myself. completely in my dreams until that sharp recess whistle called me into the classroom. often i would dream of going away, and coming back to school completely different. i would be accepted and everyone would want to be my friend. i would then, with great indifference, casually tell them who i really was. they then would become embarrassed and ashamed at the thought of disliking someone so much only to later want to befriend them... i would then day dream about places in the school i could live. upstairs near the third grade hall (there were four rooms upstairs, three for third grade. i liked it up there...) seemed a favorite place of mine. i would live at school because the teachers were nice to me, and because the other students, were or course, ashamed. i have rambled on about this before, however i would also have a big brother in these dreams. being an only child is not something this only child dreamed of.
however, one thing i don't understand...
everything everyone ever said to me, at home, at school, everywhere... i believed it.
.
my brain was filled with the expectations of everyone. it didn't matter whether the expectations were good or bad, or even if i followed them.
i just believed them.
i still do
i know certain things are not true, however i still believe them. i don't think i'm stupid, however i don't think i'm smart. i don't think i'm worthless, i don't think that i'm a genius. what is true and what isn't? what happens when your self-image is not your own? when t is laying down on the floor, waiting to be picked up but you don't even know what shape it goes in to begin with?
well, i suppose you put it together anyway.
or just leave it there and become yourself while still wondering what to do with that mess on the floor. you see yourself broken and can't be sure what piece shows you without distortion.
how do you live with believing you are both smart and stupid?
i have gotten rid of one view...
however, getting rid of believing you are smart and still maintaing your position in the top ten in your grade...
does not work well.
a few weeks back, i didn't understand what we were doing in college algebra (my school offers dual credit classes.) and... it was due before i finished it. so, i wrote "i'm sorry i'm stupid" on problem 39 and turned it in.
did i believe i was stupid?
yes.
was i sorry?
yes i am.
i apologize profusely. my mom yells, immediately "i'm sorry!" runs through my mind. if she says it was my fault, i believe it. thankfully, i have limits on that. when my dad's eye problems (speaking of, after a year and a half my dad is BACK AT WORK!) were blamed on me, i was able to be hurt yet not believe it. thankfully, on that occasion she apologized.
i apologize for everything and anything that goes wrong. what do i mean when i say that?
well, mainly
"i'm sorry i'm stupid."
i said that once out loud.
to mom.
mistake.
what would you do, if your parent was calling something you said stupid?
well, for your sake, i hope that it isn't "i'm sorry i'm stupid"
what are you to think when your mom, a school psychologist who you think could handle such things a bit better, then tells you that it's a sin to think you're stupid because when you're "really smart" saying your stupid makes other people feel bad about themselves. then you do a double take realize that after saying something you said was stupid, she called you smart.
what?
you begin to feel oxymoronic.
i feel oxymoronic.
like you're stupid, yet you're expected to be smart.
that if you study and work hard enough, you can be both and therefore will not be letting anyone down.
i am a paradox.
that's...
not a good thing.
and then the stress from having an overachiever's mindset embedded in a mind that thinks it's stupid gets to you.
and you can't eat anything without it making you feel sick because the stress gets to you.
(went to the doctor for that. they took a blood test. i was laughing while blood was being drawn, apparently everyone handles anxiety differently. and this morning i went to get an ultrasound of my liver, stomach, gall bladder, etc because they wanted to check things out before they chalked it all up to stress. it's amazing. all of my organs look like gray blobs. and i see where the term 'kidney shaped drapery' comes from.)
why can't we just be ourselves without outside influence?
however, i suppose that the outside influence makes us who we are...
i wonder, if we all were raised in the exact same way if we would all turn out exactly the same.
hmm.
well, regardless, i wouldn't take back a moment of my life.
it makes me who i am, and without that who would i be?
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