I’ve never been so happy not in school.
Sounds weird, considering I love learning.
Although there isn’t much learning in public school. I think I dropped out in elementary school. I lost interest.
I took this time off for my mental health and to rekindle my passion and I think it’s working. Plus it gives me time to nurture my other talents I felt were shoved off in the back shelf as unimportant compared to the stupid shit school systems these days think you need to memorize to be intelligent.
In their attempt to teach me what to think, I’ve learned how to think. I screwed up their master plan.
There’s a difference between intelligence and educated. I wrote an essay on it. My professor was impressed.
No shit she was; I’d be impressed if she wasn’t impressed.
I’m an arrogant prick.
Just kidding. Sort of.
She was impressed though, and couldn’t really find anything to critique so instead she mentioned I used an extra space at the beginning of one of my paragraphs. It was an accident.
It’s interesting to see the difference between the engineer majors and physics majors and chemistry and math majors compared to the English majors and philosophy majors and other humanities majors. I’ve been in the buildings filled with both–not at the same time of course; the conversations would be more like passive-aggressive-opinion-shouting.
I read . . . err, skimmed very quickly, through an article that claimed psychiatry needs its own Higgs Boson, something to propel it into the future and lay a foundation, a discovery that’s progressive. The problem with that is we can’t stick people in a giant particle collider, slam their heads together at speeds as fast as light, and expect something more spectacular than blood and brain matter splattered all over the place (assuming acceleration didn’t already rip them to shreds). It’s not going to give us a scene of the first neurons to ever pop into existence or give us a scene of what the first neurotransmitters did. It’s not going to tells us how much of our behavior we can attribute to chemicals and electrical signals, and it’s definitely not going to tell us if there is a separation between the mind and the brain.
Our best guess for how our brain works is based on mice and monkeys. We’re never going to have a psychiatric Higgs Boson, not with ethics breathing down our neck.
My chemistry professor really loved chemistry. You could just see it in his eyes. You could just tell he’d been convinced that everything he knew in science, everything we’ve discovered as a species, is definite. We have “laws” to prove it. You know, things like “matter can never be created or destroyed”.
But I feel like that’s narrow-minded. Perhaps on our world. Perhaps in our tiny, microscopic, pointless corner of the universe, we don’t have the knowledge of how matter can be created and I guess we don’t really have to think about the possibilities of being able to create it or destroy it in the future when we have the Big Bang Theory telling us there was an explosion and all matter in the universe was created.
We sure do have an affinity for believing everything originated from one thing. Science and religion: stop fighting–stop it! Hey, science, hit religion one more time and you’re going to go in the calm down corner because I have something to tell the both of you. You’re not that different. What makes the Eurocentric God, the Christian God, any different than the big bang theory? Both say everything originated from one instance. Both say they’re infinite.
Personally, when I started learning about the big bang theory in elementary school it didn’t make any sense to me. It makes more sense that the universe always was and always will be and we’re stuck in an infinite loop so infinite we’ll never be able to understand the infinity of it. We might as well just appreciate what we have, where we are, and investigate the universe around us for pure knowledge and not for the sake of being a smart-ass trying to discover where all life originated. How in the hell are you going to do that? We’re the only life we know of!
In other words, if life wants you to know something, it’ll tell you about it. Otherwise, you might as well just keep digging because it’s going to send you in so many circles your dizziness will get dizzy.
I’ve always been the inquisitive type. When I found my teeth hidden in a little “tooth fairy box” on my parents shelf, I was devastated–the tooth fairy was a lie. If the tooth fairy was a lie, than what about the Easter Bunny? What about Santa Claus? My whole world fell apart that day and I set the little box back and told no one. When my next tooth fell out I decided to run an experiment and tell no one. I wrapped my tooth up and put it under my pillow, wrote some obscure “thank you” note like I always did, and told myself if I didn’t get money than it was a given my parents were the tooth fairy.
You’d be surprised I was still disappointed to feel my tooth under my pillow the next morning. I concluded the tooth fairy was a lie and lost faith in humanity.
Well maybe not in humanity (that came a couple years later), but in magic and the supernatural, in mystery. That’s what started my obsession with thinking, with meta-cognition, with science. And that’s what we do in this society; we systematically train our students to think in a straight line, live in a straight line, and think that every ounce of beauty in life can be defined by mathematics.
I love math. But I feel I can only truly appreciate it because I also appreciate the mystery of life. I question the stars, the universe, the planets, and extraterrestrial life not to prove some theory but because I’m just curious. What’s wrong with simple curiosity these days? Why does it have to be so hardlined, so structured?
This is part of the reason why it’s so easy to convince people they’re crazy and why it’s so easy for us to convince ourselves we’re hopeless. And why American public education is in the shits.
So the next time you decide to conclude without question there’s something wrong with you, why not also consider the possibility that there’s not?
Your body isn’t there for your disposal, it lives and breathes with you. That’s why Cancer patients who move on with their life the best they can, who somehow keep strong, positive attitudes, tend to have a better success rate in beating the disease (that’s a disease, by the way, not anxiety, not depression). If you feel depressed in your mind, your body is going to feel depressed right with you. If you listen closely, it helps you through life. If you choose not to listen, well, your life probably sucks right now.
I have my issues, obviously. I hate sounding like I never struggle; I’m always struggling. And I’m always finding new ways to help me not struggle. Not ways to fight the struggle (why fight yourself? That’s illogical), but ways to just not struggle. When I learned the day before I had to go to an event I’d never been to and never knew anything about, I immediately thought oh shit . . . so many people, with so many kids; I’m not good around either one, I got to find a way out of this, I have to, I have to, I have to.
Well I didn’t find a way out of it. But I did notice that whenever I thought about the event, I was making up scenarios of what could happen. I’m always making up little worlds in my head, I always have been, so it comes as second nature whether my anxiety exists or not. But in this case it causes me a lot of stress. So I went to sleep that night thinking about my thinking, but in a healthy way. I pictured a cluttered room. A room so packed with stuff and boxes and creepy ass dolls I would rather burn than play with. All of the stuff crowded to the ceiling of the room and the only uncluttered space was the door in front of me. I labeled the door as the present and my stuff as my thoughts. Whenever I felt myself sinking into the clutter, I pictured the door and brought myself into the present. For once, I slept well before an event.
At the event I was nervous yes, I was critical of myself and constantly questioning if I did something or said something stupid, but I wasn’t tired from having been anxious all night because I wasn’t anxious all night.
One step at a time.
It took me years to get this way, years of feeling unsafe, unheard, and alone, and it’s going to take years to unlearn this behavior.
Life is a learning process.