Saturday, 4. July 2015
Missing My Folks
ell, 23:27h
It's true that most of the time you only truely know what you had when you don't have it anymore. And it's only now that I realize that in the last few years of school I actually had people. I've never been much of a groupy person, never really had a gang. Sure, in Elementary school I had the other kids of the village, there was always someone around somewhere, and when that slowly fell appart because everyone was going to different schools, I started to find other friends, but up until the very last years, I've never actually had something like 'my' people.
Never before I was constantly sitting around with the same guys in the brakes and not getting anoyed. For the first time we shared the same jokes, laughing about everything, without actually knowing why it was funny. But now...
They're actually still here. Not too far away, but somehow unreachable. And I notice that I am more and more out of the loop. Not getting all the jokes anymore. Never knowing what's actually going on. And only learning anything that's new when I stumble on it by accident, while for everyone else it actually is yesterdays news already.
And what's making matters worse, in over half a year, I haven't found anything like new people yet - because before I never knew how I actually needed them. While they have stolen themselves into my life they have become a main reason, if not sometimes the reason, why I was actually going to school. For days I was sometimes looking forward to sitting there in the breakes, chatting, laughing, but it's only now that I realize.
I, and surely also quite some others, have always seen myself as a strong person, independet, rather grown up for my age, intelligent, that sort of thing. I've always been the one who'd speak up, who'd just walk up to people and ask them for something. The one who'd ring the bell of the house with the grumpy old lady. But right now, I only see the facade of selfconfidence crumbling, to reveal the girl with the book in the corner, shy, silent and horribly socially awkward, stammering when speaking to a group and not talking to anyone otherwise. And I feel like I'm travelling back in time. Once again I am the kid in fifth class, sitting in a room full of other children, knowing no one, and not daring to speak to anyone. But now I'm not a kid anymore, who knows that, whatever will happen, live in school will just go on as usual, at least for the next few years, and it will play out nicely sowehow. Now I am nineteen years old, and supposed to take the first steps in the world of the grown ups, but now that for the first time I'm facing a real crisis, if you can call it that, I revert into the nine-year-old who's crying herself to sleep while downstairs the parents are fighting.
In school we learned that our capability of dealing with crisis and going out of them without permanent damage is called resilience and this is dependant on the people around us and the things that are important to us. Right now I only realize that I don't have the resilience I thought I had, and that although it's so important in our job. Sure, I have the choir and the riding lessons, but that's not what I need, not solely at least. It's getting making me high for a few hours, like morphine, taking the pain, but once that's over, I'm just right again, where I started. And the reason? Because it's lacking the people. There's no real looking forward to it, nothing that binds me there. No one I'm waiting the whole week to see and talk to. I could do that with anyone else, only the fact that I have no one else to do it with, is keeping me there.
And then of course, there's Liz. And Scotland. But that's still seeming to be so horribly unreal. And also, that will be ten days, and then they'll all go somewhere and I'll be back here, alone. The girl in the corner with the book. The one who doesn't go out alone, and who's got no one who'd take her.
Before you get all upset, this isn't anyones fault, it's just how it is. And I am still far from suicidal, or desperate, or anything in that direction. Ok, maybe I'm a little desperate, but I'm like that rather often, I've simply learned to hide it pretty well most of the time. This is only the realization of a porblem, or maybe the first step of talking about something I have already realized long ago, but never dared to speak about. And you know what they say, realization is the first step to a solution. However right now it doesn't quite feel like it, this is a problem I haven't solved in ten years. And right now it feels like it's growing worse, while this time fortune doesn't seem to intend to be favouring me again.
I guess some things come to you only once in live. And like lightening, a peanut doesn't seem to strike twice.
Never before I was constantly sitting around with the same guys in the brakes and not getting anoyed. For the first time we shared the same jokes, laughing about everything, without actually knowing why it was funny. But now...
They're actually still here. Not too far away, but somehow unreachable. And I notice that I am more and more out of the loop. Not getting all the jokes anymore. Never knowing what's actually going on. And only learning anything that's new when I stumble on it by accident, while for everyone else it actually is yesterdays news already.
And what's making matters worse, in over half a year, I haven't found anything like new people yet - because before I never knew how I actually needed them. While they have stolen themselves into my life they have become a main reason, if not sometimes the reason, why I was actually going to school. For days I was sometimes looking forward to sitting there in the breakes, chatting, laughing, but it's only now that I realize.
I, and surely also quite some others, have always seen myself as a strong person, independet, rather grown up for my age, intelligent, that sort of thing. I've always been the one who'd speak up, who'd just walk up to people and ask them for something. The one who'd ring the bell of the house with the grumpy old lady. But right now, I only see the facade of selfconfidence crumbling, to reveal the girl with the book in the corner, shy, silent and horribly socially awkward, stammering when speaking to a group and not talking to anyone otherwise. And I feel like I'm travelling back in time. Once again I am the kid in fifth class, sitting in a room full of other children, knowing no one, and not daring to speak to anyone. But now I'm not a kid anymore, who knows that, whatever will happen, live in school will just go on as usual, at least for the next few years, and it will play out nicely sowehow. Now I am nineteen years old, and supposed to take the first steps in the world of the grown ups, but now that for the first time I'm facing a real crisis, if you can call it that, I revert into the nine-year-old who's crying herself to sleep while downstairs the parents are fighting.
In school we learned that our capability of dealing with crisis and going out of them without permanent damage is called resilience and this is dependant on the people around us and the things that are important to us. Right now I only realize that I don't have the resilience I thought I had, and that although it's so important in our job. Sure, I have the choir and the riding lessons, but that's not what I need, not solely at least. It's getting making me high for a few hours, like morphine, taking the pain, but once that's over, I'm just right again, where I started. And the reason? Because it's lacking the people. There's no real looking forward to it, nothing that binds me there. No one I'm waiting the whole week to see and talk to. I could do that with anyone else, only the fact that I have no one else to do it with, is keeping me there.
And then of course, there's Liz. And Scotland. But that's still seeming to be so horribly unreal. And also, that will be ten days, and then they'll all go somewhere and I'll be back here, alone. The girl in the corner with the book. The one who doesn't go out alone, and who's got no one who'd take her.
Before you get all upset, this isn't anyones fault, it's just how it is. And I am still far from suicidal, or desperate, or anything in that direction. Ok, maybe I'm a little desperate, but I'm like that rather often, I've simply learned to hide it pretty well most of the time. This is only the realization of a porblem, or maybe the first step of talking about something I have already realized long ago, but never dared to speak about. And you know what they say, realization is the first step to a solution. However right now it doesn't quite feel like it, this is a problem I haven't solved in ten years. And right now it feels like it's growing worse, while this time fortune doesn't seem to intend to be favouring me again.
I guess some things come to you only once in live. And like lightening, a peanut doesn't seem to strike twice.
... comment
quadrotriticale,
Sun 2015-07-05 20:44
Save the Clocktower!
It's like a hundred degrees where I currently sit, but what you wrote about the crew, and us, and peanuts actually let me get goosebumps.
But don't say that. A bolt of lighning? Unfornunately you can never know when or where one strikes? That might be true for others, but man, WE know about the clock tower and 10:04PM! So start up the DeLorien (careful, you know about the re-entry stuff) :)
But don't say that. A bolt of lighning? Unfornunately you can never know when or where one strikes? That might be true for others, but man, WE know about the clock tower and 10:04PM! So start up the DeLorien (careful, you know about the re-entry stuff) :)
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