Underground_Network
December 31st, 2009, 04:19 PM
This is a note I posted on facebook, just wanted to share it with all of you (it's really long, so it's okay if you don't read through all of it...):
Some people may be wondering why my grades have gone down in school. Some people may be wondering why I've gone from a changed person and reverted back to my old self, and well, there's a simple reason behind it.
I haven't turned to drugs, and never will. Alcohol is only around during religious holidays, and even then I choose grape juice over wine. Sex is nice, but I'll pass. Vice hasn't caught up to me yet and I don't plan on letting it catch up to me anytime soon. So it's not distractions like that that are bringing my grades down.
And though it may seem like my rollercoaster of emotions could be behind it too, it's not. Yeah, I go from happy to depressed in an instant, but regardless of how I'm feeling I always do the same amount of work. And for a certain reason I've stopped doing that amount of work. I've stopped trying so hard, and again, there's a simple reason for that.
What is that simple reason? That simple reason is that I've spent my whole life thinking and writing. I thought more deeply when I was nine than most kids do all through high school. Around the age of 11 I started to realize the cruelty of the world. I started to mature. Things happened that year that I won't go into, but that's what started off this chain of my breaking down.
By the age of 12 I was struggling for self-identity... A 12-year old with an identity crises sounds hilarious doesn't it? But it wasn't hilarious. When I was 12 I attempted suicide, I think three times? Maybe four. Only one attempt was successful enough to put me in the hospital. They let me see some shrinks but I wouldn't talk. I literally kept my mouth shut and refused to say anything. Sucks that my mom had to pay for those therapy sessions. When I was 12 I also had anger issues, because I was frustrated with my life and the world around me.
Everything seemed to have no purpose, so I started seeking a purpose. I started pursuing anything and everything to take my mind off of life. By the age of 13 I decided people were cruel and it was just easier to be anti-social than to bother getting to know people who are just bound to break you emotionally and sometimes even physically. Friendships end too easily. Relationships end even more easily. So why not kick both to the curb and focus on school like half the Asians in Livingston?
The reason is simple. Since the age of 13 I've set myself up with a near impossible task. Find my one true love, without being very social at all. And as you would suspect, I was more or less unsuccessful. But I actually did fall in love at the age of 14 with a girl who lived over 900 miles away, and who at this point would probably choose a joint over me any day, but still, I thought I'd found my purpose.
At the age of 14 all I ever did was write her name in my notebooks, when the honest fucking truth was that I was naive, stupid, and well, just stupid. I loved her, so I assumed she loved me back. And she did. But not in the same way. I loved her with all my heart. She just loved me as a friend. I made some stupid mistakes with that relationship/friendship that caused my grades to go up and down in school because I'd spend hours thinking about what to do with that relationship instead of working on homework or studying, or even going out and being a social human being.
But eventually, with the help of several other people, I managed to cure my addiction to this girl and I moved on. But the day I stopped thinking about her, my life fell apart. Because love wasn't just an addiction or even a purpose, it was a DISTRACTION. It kept my mind off of more important things, and only God (if he exists, which I doubt) knows why, but when I think about one thing it spirals into something else, which spirals into something else, and it's a never-ending cycle. It's why I space out a lot, or stop in the middle of a conversation I'm having.
But with her gone, I had to find something else to occupy my mind with. The easiest was something I already knew and loved. Poetry. Which eventually evolved into lyric writing (it's not songwriting, because I only write lyrics and record myself singing them to remember the tunes, because that's how my mind works, I can't write music for my life, but I can "make" music in my head). And that seemed to distract me, but then I realized it made me think too much.
I started thinking about the world again, and I realized writing can't be a purpose. It can be part of a purpose, but it can't be the whole purpose. And after several more suicide attempts (damn I'm good at hiding these), I ended up going to a therapist and a psychiatrist. At this point I'm basically giving therapy to my therapist and my psychiatrist treats me like an object, so I treat with him with the same respect... But yeah, those were just "setbacks" in my mind. I figured I'd get my life back on track and figure things out.
Medications made me happy and even slightly more social, but I realized that was all fake. It was artificial happiness and it was because the drugs were stopping my thinking that I was able to be more social. I didn't think, I DID. But now the medications aren't doing shit, other than slightly keeping me happier than I've been in the past and preventing me from trying to take my life again.
Now I'm stuck in an endless thought process. Trying to figure things out. I've more or less given up on finding a purpose at this point, and I've started thinking about how schools work, and yeah, I despise how they operate. They're not positive learning environments. They're not conducive to much to be honest. Teachers drive you toward insanity, not toward genius. I could rant on about how terrible our school is (and how terrible the American public school system is in general), but there's no need for that here. We all know that LHS sucks and is the most stressful place on the planet, but we all live it, so I live with it too. But LHS has taught me to think, after I already knew how to think, and now I'm lost in an endless sea of thoughts. I'm struggling to get my ideas because I have too many of them. I want to give up, but I can't...
------
P.S.
There's a lot more to me than this... I've suffered through A LOT that I haven't revealed here. But it's just made me stronger, I think. Or maybe it's made me weaker, I can't tell.
The only things I know for sure right now are that I love Lauri <3, I love Amanda Panda <3 (as the greatest friend ever), I still hold feelings for that certain girl, and well, I'm not going to stop living anytime soon, though that doesn't mean my life is going to get any better.
Some people may be wondering why my grades have gone down in school. Some people may be wondering why I've gone from a changed person and reverted back to my old self, and well, there's a simple reason behind it.
I haven't turned to drugs, and never will. Alcohol is only around during religious holidays, and even then I choose grape juice over wine. Sex is nice, but I'll pass. Vice hasn't caught up to me yet and I don't plan on letting it catch up to me anytime soon. So it's not distractions like that that are bringing my grades down.
And though it may seem like my rollercoaster of emotions could be behind it too, it's not. Yeah, I go from happy to depressed in an instant, but regardless of how I'm feeling I always do the same amount of work. And for a certain reason I've stopped doing that amount of work. I've stopped trying so hard, and again, there's a simple reason for that.
What is that simple reason? That simple reason is that I've spent my whole life thinking and writing. I thought more deeply when I was nine than most kids do all through high school. Around the age of 11 I started to realize the cruelty of the world. I started to mature. Things happened that year that I won't go into, but that's what started off this chain of my breaking down.
By the age of 12 I was struggling for self-identity... A 12-year old with an identity crises sounds hilarious doesn't it? But it wasn't hilarious. When I was 12 I attempted suicide, I think three times? Maybe four. Only one attempt was successful enough to put me in the hospital. They let me see some shrinks but I wouldn't talk. I literally kept my mouth shut and refused to say anything. Sucks that my mom had to pay for those therapy sessions. When I was 12 I also had anger issues, because I was frustrated with my life and the world around me.
Everything seemed to have no purpose, so I started seeking a purpose. I started pursuing anything and everything to take my mind off of life. By the age of 13 I decided people were cruel and it was just easier to be anti-social than to bother getting to know people who are just bound to break you emotionally and sometimes even physically. Friendships end too easily. Relationships end even more easily. So why not kick both to the curb and focus on school like half the Asians in Livingston?
The reason is simple. Since the age of 13 I've set myself up with a near impossible task. Find my one true love, without being very social at all. And as you would suspect, I was more or less unsuccessful. But I actually did fall in love at the age of 14 with a girl who lived over 900 miles away, and who at this point would probably choose a joint over me any day, but still, I thought I'd found my purpose.
At the age of 14 all I ever did was write her name in my notebooks, when the honest fucking truth was that I was naive, stupid, and well, just stupid. I loved her, so I assumed she loved me back. And she did. But not in the same way. I loved her with all my heart. She just loved me as a friend. I made some stupid mistakes with that relationship/friendship that caused my grades to go up and down in school because I'd spend hours thinking about what to do with that relationship instead of working on homework or studying, or even going out and being a social human being.
But eventually, with the help of several other people, I managed to cure my addiction to this girl and I moved on. But the day I stopped thinking about her, my life fell apart. Because love wasn't just an addiction or even a purpose, it was a DISTRACTION. It kept my mind off of more important things, and only God (if he exists, which I doubt) knows why, but when I think about one thing it spirals into something else, which spirals into something else, and it's a never-ending cycle. It's why I space out a lot, or stop in the middle of a conversation I'm having.
But with her gone, I had to find something else to occupy my mind with. The easiest was something I already knew and loved. Poetry. Which eventually evolved into lyric writing (it's not songwriting, because I only write lyrics and record myself singing them to remember the tunes, because that's how my mind works, I can't write music for my life, but I can "make" music in my head). And that seemed to distract me, but then I realized it made me think too much.
I started thinking about the world again, and I realized writing can't be a purpose. It can be part of a purpose, but it can't be the whole purpose. And after several more suicide attempts (damn I'm good at hiding these), I ended up going to a therapist and a psychiatrist. At this point I'm basically giving therapy to my therapist and my psychiatrist treats me like an object, so I treat with him with the same respect... But yeah, those were just "setbacks" in my mind. I figured I'd get my life back on track and figure things out.
Medications made me happy and even slightly more social, but I realized that was all fake. It was artificial happiness and it was because the drugs were stopping my thinking that I was able to be more social. I didn't think, I DID. But now the medications aren't doing shit, other than slightly keeping me happier than I've been in the past and preventing me from trying to take my life again.
Now I'm stuck in an endless thought process. Trying to figure things out. I've more or less given up on finding a purpose at this point, and I've started thinking about how schools work, and yeah, I despise how they operate. They're not positive learning environments. They're not conducive to much to be honest. Teachers drive you toward insanity, not toward genius. I could rant on about how terrible our school is (and how terrible the American public school system is in general), but there's no need for that here. We all know that LHS sucks and is the most stressful place on the planet, but we all live it, so I live with it too. But LHS has taught me to think, after I already knew how to think, and now I'm lost in an endless sea of thoughts. I'm struggling to get my ideas because I have too many of them. I want to give up, but I can't...
------
P.S.
There's a lot more to me than this... I've suffered through A LOT that I haven't revealed here. But it's just made me stronger, I think. Or maybe it's made me weaker, I can't tell.
The only things I know for sure right now are that I love Lauri <3, I love Amanda Panda <3 (as the greatest friend ever), I still hold feelings for that certain girl, and well, I'm not going to stop living anytime soon, though that doesn't mean my life is going to get any better.