It seems as though this quarter I’ve been ranting and venting more about how people are too NOISY and how I need to be more selfish and not take any crap from anyone. I think I used to rant more about how people suck in general, but now it does seem like a shift towards me centering on how people are noisy.
It’s interesting though because perhaps my closest friend is one of the loudest people I know, hahaha. I guess this is a source of tension within my life and this is why it’s healthy for me to vent about it. (don’t worry, I vent about it to that person directly too!)
My mother used to pressure me into social situations that I felt uncomfortable with. Actually, she still does. She obviously wants me to be a different person than I am–less passive, less introverted, less…”weird”, in a way. It was probably harder on me when I was growing up since I didn’t have nearly as strong a sense of the kind of person that I wanted to be.
But yes, even now she still does it–she still goes “do this! do this! don’t you want to do this!? are you sure!?” and it bothers me. If it were me alone, it would be alright–I would either do exactly what I want, and no more, or I would be having a mental debate with myself as to whether or not I should throw myself into an uncertain situation. But with her there, there’s this screaming annoying thing there and that’s the only thing I can focus on. And ironically enough, I can’t give in. I can’t give in because it would feel lame. It would feel like a defeat. It would feel like I’m doing things only because she tells me to. Yes, I still have the rebellious spirit in me–it’s still going very strong. And so all I can do is activate my social, emotional, and mental shield and just stand there as passively as I can, ignoring everything, and not letting a hint of any emotions show. Sometimes I even try to remove myself from reality entirely in order to help me deal with it, because it’s a goddamn troublesome situation and that’s sometimes the easiest way for me to deal with it–to just remove myself from the moment entirely.
Yes, in many ways my quietness is due to my mother’s loudness. Not only is it the only way that I know how to deal with it–to shut myself down–but it’s also because I simply find it repulsive and annoying. Today she came to visit and she told me to bring a jacket. Bring a warmer jacket. Is that all you’re going to wear? You should bring something else. The white jacket. Are you sure? It’s supposed to be really cold. Bring the jacket. And of course, the thing is, I was already planning to bring the white jacket. That’s the whole reason it’s laid out there, so that I can grab it and take it with me. But you see, now if I just take it, then it’s a defeat–i’ll be bringing it because she told me to. Anger ensues. But the main thing that bothers me is not the fact that she’s worried about something insignificant; not the fact that I don’t want to admit a defeat; not the fact that I’m annoyed that she told me something I already knew myself. Yes, those all bother me, but the thing that bothers me more is the incessant voicing. The incessant voicing of thoughts. There’s no stopping it–there’s just no stopping it. Whenever a thought flows in, it comes out of her mouth. There’s nothing held back, there’s nothing that just stays in the mind as a worry or concern–no, they have to be voiced as advice and opinions. That’s why we so frequently have these car rides with me and my parents where she’s the only one talking, about anything and everything.
And yes, she does it because she worries about me, but that’s what bothers me–it’s something I don’t want, because it’s incessant and it never stops. Every little thing. I can’t stand it when it’s everything and it always just comes assaulting me like a hailstorm. You look stressed; do you have too much homework? You sneezed; are you getting sick? You’re going to catch a cold, you need to wear more. Have you been taking vitamins? Make sure you wash your hands; lots of people are getting sick. Isn’t that one girl sick? You should stay away from her.
There’s this one “McDull” animation clip where McDull’s mother just talks really fast cantonese to the father for like 4 minutes straight, which illustrates the feeling perfectly, but unfortunately I can’t seem to find it.
I actually got in a bad mood today because the thing about the jacket made me start thinking, and then I recalled the time when it was the worst. Back during the RSI fiasco, before I had learned the truth, she once said to me something to the extent of, you should have done something about this earlier; you should have told us earlier; maybe if you had done something about this it wouldn’t have gotten to this point. And that almost made me snap. It was the very last thing I wanted to hear, because those were my thoughts that I was ALREADY thinking and I didn’t want to hear it; i didn’t want to hear it; i already knew it so I didn’t want to hear it at all. It’s like having something go wrong and then having someone say “I told you so!” and laughing in your face–there’s no reason that I should need any more words. It’s like those people (my father, hewhoshallnotbenamed#1 and hewhoshallnotbenamed#2) who always chide you after you make a mistake. After an accident or a problem, there’s two things that they’ll say. The first thing is “that’s no good” and the second is “you should do better next time”. And I hate it. I hate hate hate hate hate it because I’m not a dummy; I’m not a little kid and so these kinds of things are unnecessary. Why don’t you just tell me “never make a mistake or have anything bad happen for the rest of your life” and just be done with it? Why must you insist on constantly, constantly reminding me of things that I already know and don’t want to hear again?
And so I almost snapped at that time. “SHUT UP!” I must have cried. I didn’t want to hear it. Of course my mother said it was only because she cared, so that next time it would be better, that it’s okay to talk about these things. But I didn’t want any of it. I wanted to hear none of it. I almost threw a tantrum.
And so today I imagined that scene turning into another scene that I sometimes think about–a scene where my mother (most of the time it’s my mother, but not always) is saying something and I’m crying for them to shut up, because I don’t want to hear it. “shut up shut up SHUT UP” I shout. I scream, and it doesn’t stop. “God dammit, what the hell is wrong with you!? Just be quiet, god dammit”, and then in some variations of the scene I even threaten to physically harm myself. And when that doesn’t work; when I have no choices left the only thing I can do is just run away. If they won’t be quiet then the only thing I can do is just run away, far far away so I won’t hear them.
I inherited the overachieving, constantly constantly worrying nature of my mother. But unlike either my father or my mother (closer to my father, but still noticeably different), I learned to tame it and to cage it. And you may think that that’s a bad thing, but it’s not. To have all of your thoughts bounce out into the world, where all they can do is harm…that’s something I never want.
Funnily enough though, this quarter I’ve imagined a day where I cast away all of the inhibitions and try to put aside that mental block, and just say shit as it is. To complain freely; to express all of my desires, no matter how selfish, insignificant, or unreasonable. To whine when I feel bad or upset. To shift the focus of attention to myself.
It’s repulsive, almost. It runs counter to my entire being. I don’t even know if it’s possible at all. Sure, there are days when I’m a little bit more open…but never like that; not even when I’m drunk (maybe I haven’t gotten drunk enough). The frustrating part is that I also imagine a possibility that other people might like that version of me better. That maybe -i’d- like that version of me better. Or well, no…I’d never like that version of me better, but I can imagine that it would lead to better things happening to me. After all, how often do you see loud, obnoxious, selfish people rise to the top and get things that they want? (hint: it’s more often than never) Part of the reason I haven’t given serious thought to ever actually acting out that day is because I don’t know if it’s possible at all for me to actually do that. But another reason is that I’m just simply afraid of the consequences. I don’t want to have my way of life be invalidated by trying this other, repulsive lifestyle and having it turn out well. Because I like my way of life, and I’m proud of my way of life, and I think that everyone else is in the wrong; not me.