The Undiagnosed Mental Illness
Remember a night spent lying awake, just thinking about yourself and your life. Thinking about how things went in the day, remembering some similar event in the past and your reaction to all those moments. You conclude something with regards to your personality: something unique, something that is not of the norm. Something wierd.
Remember a time when you were mad with rage. "The world is unfair, " you think, and then your mind goes, or explores extremes. One, you just go numb: nothing except a white wall. Two, you think of ways to ease the pain: pounding holes in the wall with your fists, slashing, suicide, even homicide.
Remember a time you were with a crowd - your family, your friends, any significant number of people. Presented with stimuli like a situation, a joke, or a problem everyone gives the same reaction. Everyone, that is, except you. They laugh, you feel compassion. They cry, you are amused. They analyze the situation, you wonder what there is to analyze about.
Remember the moment where you just stood in front of the mirror and asked, "Is there something wrong with me?"
It's not just you, you know. Everyone's had to have asked this question at least once. We all have this fear of living in a room with padded walls. We all have this fear of being different from the crowd (which is wierd because we all want to stand out, but that's another issue). We're afraid of ourselves, we're afraid of something inside ourselves. We fear the dark side of our personality. The dark side of our personality, which is, ironically, the product of our repression in trying to be with the norm.
We all want to break free from the monotony of life. We all want to stand up and just let go. We want to refuse to take that bus to work and simply spend the day watching a movie. We want to refuse to watch our politicians in the news and just tell them how stupid they are. We want to refuse silent observation and just yell out our opinions.
But if we try to, nobody listens.
And we're repressed. Probably not too repressed to pass for a clinical definition, but repressed nonetheless.
Nobody bothers to check.
And its all the same.
Remember a time when you were mad with rage. "The world is unfair, " you think, and then your mind goes, or explores extremes. One, you just go numb: nothing except a white wall. Two, you think of ways to ease the pain: pounding holes in the wall with your fists, slashing, suicide, even homicide.
Remember a time you were with a crowd - your family, your friends, any significant number of people. Presented with stimuli like a situation, a joke, or a problem everyone gives the same reaction. Everyone, that is, except you. They laugh, you feel compassion. They cry, you are amused. They analyze the situation, you wonder what there is to analyze about.
Remember the moment where you just stood in front of the mirror and asked, "Is there something wrong with me?"
It's not just you, you know. Everyone's had to have asked this question at least once. We all have this fear of living in a room with padded walls. We all have this fear of being different from the crowd (which is wierd because we all want to stand out, but that's another issue). We're afraid of ourselves, we're afraid of something inside ourselves. We fear the dark side of our personality. The dark side of our personality, which is, ironically, the product of our repression in trying to be with the norm.
We all want to break free from the monotony of life. We all want to stand up and just let go. We want to refuse to take that bus to work and simply spend the day watching a movie. We want to refuse to watch our politicians in the news and just tell them how stupid they are. We want to refuse silent observation and just yell out our opinions.
But if we try to, nobody listens.
And we're repressed. Probably not too repressed to pass for a clinical definition, but repressed nonetheless.
Nobody bothers to check.
And its all the same.
posted by roseraven11 @ 9:14 AM
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