I will journal about what others do and what I think about it; I’d go nuts if I don’t.
If I am going to be constantly judging myself, I should do the same for others in my head. Where do I start? I am going to write in bold of the people, because I tend to be very introspective and get lost in my thoughts. So you can see who exactly are the “people” here. So…
Jill didn’t call out on another girl who did the same thing as me because she happened to be her friend. And not even a close friend, but more like a hi -bye friend.
I felt disgusted with myself as a kid. I just always intuitively knew I was different. I couldn’t figure out why the other kids couldn’t see me as their equal. The only conclusions I could come to was I probably looked like a monster. And they were grossed out. This went on from the age of 10 (I know, pretty young) to…..now. It’s kind of ridiculous to think I look like a monster when I look good enough to myself at the moment- with my bucked-teeth and all but still. And yet that thought was conditioned in me and that’s the kind of conclusion I tend to come to when I wonder why others like me less.
A while ago, Teacher asked what kind of depressants I took, out loud, in front of everyone. It’s difficult to wonder how she is a Bangali women and yet she doesn’t know the Bengali culture; does she know not of how people are going to ostracize me for my mental-illness? Mother told me never to utter a word about my anxiety because cruel people might take advantage of me, emotionally and physically. I have no idea how the ‘physically’ part can happen, but I think mother thinks that I would be so traumatized I wouldn’t even be able to talk or anything. I sound like that kind of person, but I do try to stay as safe as possible. I don’t understand where Mom was coming from though about even being in that position, or if she meant the aftermath of such an event, then she’s very right.
The teacher asked me if it was some form of depressant that’ll affect my nerves, I just didn’t want to talk about it, so I just quickly said, “Yes,”. I was wrong to think she wouldn’t ask me any of such questions-(If you’re wondering, It’s definitely NOT a medicine that’s affecting my nerves. We wouldn’t take such a risk!)
My Mother shared about my mental-illness with teacher. I wasn’t angry that Mother shared this, because I honestly too thought the teacher knew enough to keep it a secret, it’s a sensitive topic. But no. She ADVICES me in front of EVERYONE on how to keep myself “sane”. She tells me I am young and I don’t do anything much- hence I get “silly” over little things.
Here’s a lesson to everyone who is reading this- no matter how old, or how much money a person makes, or how much education that person may have, it truly f*cking truly doesn’t guarantee you about their common-sense. It’s a shockingly big lesson to learn if you end up like me.
I started with Jill and I somehow got to my teacher. This is why I am so judgmental about myself because I have all these messy, messy thoughts inside my head that are somehow interconnected to each other. I have to write them out to make “space”.
I was going to talk about Jill gossiping about me really. I will proudly admit that I look pretty stupid, I always have a very dumb look about me. I always look like a confused person because of my anxiety. My eye-brows are always up a little or more and I have to stop myself and de-stress to make my face look normal again. And I look and sound very unnoticeable. And to add to that, I almost act like I don’t get whatever is happening around me. But the thing is, I understand enough to be able to try to take care of myself.
So even when others are whispering to each other about me, I act like I can’t notice a thing. I don’t want to get myself into messes . But here’s the thing. Here’s the thing I notice about everone who gossips about me- I notice how composed those girls keep themselves when they do it. It’s like no part of them is ashamed of the fact that they’re even trying to hide that about themselves.
When they’re gossiping, it looks more like they’re fangirling about celebrities in an excited tone. They’re such experts on how to not let others know who they’re on about. They don’t even look my way, not even a bit. After they’re done talking about me, they look even more unaware of my existence, like their talk was about nothing. I know enough about what society condemns “weird” and “dumb”- and I can read others expressions too about how funny they find me. And the effort they put into pretending to not notice me when they’re talking about me. It’s just so obvious that they themselves don’t even know it. Or maybe they do, and they just don’t care. I wouldn’t be surprised about that too.
I actually do weird thing- a) I wear men’s sandles because they’re comfortable, I don’t give a fuck about the aunties who gives me that “look” about my footwear. B) I am very absent-minded. I am always deep into thoughts, so when the teachers are explaining maths or whatever, I only get half of what the teacher says. It’s not like I can’t hear her, I do. It’s just that the thoughts in my head are louder. C) Because of no. b, I tend to ask a lot of questions, and even obvious ones, because even when I deduce what a person says from listening to half of their talk, my anxiety convinces me that my understanding of it is not right. That I need to clear things up. D) And most of all, I really am just weird. I don’t do every single thing like other people. I don’t understand how everyone is so okay with “the specifics”, can’t people be a little more open about things and ideas? I never see any other girl dressed up like the way I dress myself or whatever. I see things from a weird angle and well, I even make myself laugh. I make myself laugh often and it makes Mom kind of uncomfortable. She doesn’t say that, but I can tell. I am sorry, I am just too funny, Mommy.
I am kind of stupid with social-behavior too. You know what I do if I ever happen to gossip? And did used to gossip about others, but not often though. Anyway when I do talk about someone, I LOOK at the person I am talking about while doing it. I can’t help but LOOK. It’s like, my gossip won’t be done with if I just don’t give the person I am talking about some subtle clue as to what I am doing. My anxiety makes me do that. My anxiety also makes my lips quiver or make my eyes move around quick when I lie but this happens occasionally if it is a petty lie. So that’s one good thing about my anxiety, it scares me into being a better person xD But other than that. I just don’t know. I just don’t know what to even think.
It’s really no use as to how many people tell me I am smart or whatever. I really have to make myself believe that at first. Because I did hear people say that. My aunt says I am highly analytical about other people’s bahaviour. My mother things that too, which is why she asks me a lot of questions about why my father does the stupid crap he does, and she almost always agrees with the conclusions I come up with. I think I am pretty “people-analytical” than “logical-analytical” but sometimes I can’t even trust myself with the things I come up with. Which is why I have to write to make my head-space less messy. Oh man. Long, long, long post. Have a nice day and if you’re weird, know you ain’t alone.
But to the people who still don’t get it, I honestly know I say a lot of dumb things. I often do that to sound funny, but people tend to take you seriously too. I second-guess my intelligence all the time, I analyze everything I say or write to a person. I can’t help it, my OCD does it. And almost 80% of the time I don’t correct myself after knowing how dumb I am. I don’t correct myself unless the thoughts get me too much, but I do. I see it so often. I see it so much. The things I say that don’t make sense.
Like for example, how I mention that I called a suicide-hotline and then ended up waiting an hour for a call without even doing it to myself already. I just share half of everything, but when I sound dumb, I don’t feel like correcting myself to the other person, because I think that if they found me so “unintelligent” without asking any questions, then I really can’t go far with such a person. It sounds dumb to even not want to correct myself (even though my mind screams too). And now I am wondering how I am mentioning a serious topic like suicide in a post about correcting myself. And now I am wondering if I SHOULD be thought of as unintelligent or insensitive for that. And now I am thinking why I haven’t even deleted this stupid para yet. But the thing is, even I don’t get it. My mind rules me, not the other way around. And the thing is, I am analyzing EVERYTHING I do and say all the time like this. I can think of a 100 dumb things and more I said in this post if anyone asked me to list them, it’s easy to criticize my thoughts. It’s like, if I think about something, I won’t let it go until I’ve thoroughly thought of it- and now to do that all the time, nowadays less than I used because it took effort to even get to a place like this, kind of sucks. And yes, if you’re wondering, I am still judging about a lot of things in this post but if I keep judging I will never get to ever publishing any of my posts on this blog so I just go along with it. Even when I think about all the things that haven’t made sense to me yet.
“Silently laughing weirdo” out.