|
|
Friday, Mar. 26, 2004 - 11:19 p.m. NO RIGHT TO COMPLAIN I have no right to complain about my current state in life. It is beautiful. Over the past few weeks I have reflected on the loneliness I have experienced in my life, but I realize now that I have no longer have an excuse for it. During my adolescence, I saw my life as an absolutely hopeless and desperate situation. As an adult looking back, I believe at the time I was right. There was no solution to my predicament when I was a teenager. I was a child overwhelmed with becoming an adult, all the while battling wild psychotic changes in mood. Most of the other children around me were exactly what they were--children. They did not understand what it meant to be sensitive to other’s feelings. They only looked out for themselves, much like toddlers in a preschool horde their own toys. In fact, I believe my adolescence was very much like a preschool where children strike each other over toys. The major difference is that the weaponry used by teenagers are very adult, more like the nuclear arms in an emotional war. My only glimmering hope during my adolescence was that it would somehow end. The children would grow up, they would become civil in how they treat others, and I could then emerge and allow myself to experience what it is like to be human without getting devastatingly hurt. The only problem with that outlook is that it assumes that everyone grows up, myself included. Certainly, many of the immature characteristics of teenagers fade away as they become full adults, but they take time to fade. Every now and then I could see through my own fading, as well as the fading of my peers, and I would feel the emotional flashbacks that would for an instant bring me back to the misery of my adolescence. And the mere sense of that misery forced me to recoil in absolute fear . I would suddenly feel rejected and worthless. And I remained convinced that I was. Like last year, I got asked to be in the Passion Play on that college campus church. Unlike last year, I will not be Bartholomew. I will be Thomas, and I will speak a line. During rehearsals, I find myself surrounded by college students, some freshmen, some seniors, even some graduate students. There is this one annoying guy who is a fellow apostle of mine who reminds me very much of one of the jerks I would have attended high school with. He behaves exactly like an immature buffoon in an all-male high school. The reason I consider him to be one is that he invades my personal space by incessantly poking my ribs for no earthly reason. It pisses me off. No one who does not know me has the right to do that. Next time he does it, I will make it known to him that I will not tolerate it. In high school, stuff like that happened to me all the time. Guys seemed to be intent on getting in fights with me, and every time, I refused, because I knew the punishment of my school would be incredibly severe. Being in that situation is quite awkward. You do not like being physically assaulted by someone, yet you are not allowed to defend yourself in fear of punishment. You are forced to put up with it, hoping that they do not threaten to do something to you that is severe enough to merit self-defense. Just telling on someone for threatening gave you no assurance at all. As a result, I spent all my time in fear. I stayed the hell away from those testosterone-driven bastards. I just wanted to go to school, get my education, and leave. Only when I am in the company of young Neanderthal men do I feel that fear now, and I am rarely among them. At work, I have different problems to deal with, but the people there are mature professionals, have families, have dealt with the troubles of life, and know the difference between right and wrong. However, I realize I am also in rare company. I am educated and well-raised, and I work with educated and well-raised people. Most of these people are not the types you see in bars or Bourbon Street. In fact, most of them are the religious types that revile such places. My disorder has left me with a past that will sit as an emotional scar for the rest of my life. But what I have learned from my past is worth more than its weight in gold. I know what it is like to feel lonely and rejected. I know what it is like to be a social pariah. I know there are several more beautiful people like me out there that I can understand as a result of my past. Many people spend their entire lives and never come to understand the power and beauty of human vulnerability. This reason is why I no longer have an excuse for my loneliness. At one point I asked myself what it is that others do not like about me. Then it dawned on me. I should not care if others do not like me. I may be different, but that is who I am. I am pure and whole. I do not seek to hurt anyone. In fact, I wish to help them if I can. I am not critical of other people because they have some sort of flaw that popular culture disapproves of. I celebrate them. I want to be the best person I can be, regardless of what others’ standards are. Even if my standards are totally out of sync with what is valued in the eyes of others. That is me. That is my niche. That is what ultimately is going to win me the friendships and relationship that will last my lifetime. So now I am left to do whatever things I want to do, free of fear of social rejection, free of worry about being hurt, and free of a self-imposed loneliness. And if I do not allow myself to do these things, I have no right to complain. Not to mention that my mood is also up. |