Random Stuff - Part II

Rant: Fears

And what about drowning? What does it feel like to be unable to breathe, keeping one's mouth tightly shut and squinting against the water as your lungs beg for air? And how painful it must be when your lungs finally give in and you suck in the water, your mind wishing so bad for it to be air, but the agony of the truth crushing all your hopes as the water fills your lungs and you suffocate to eventually die from the lack of oxygen? What does that even feel like? How terrified must they be, the moments before and during their drowning, their mind racing with the thought of certain, unavoidable death, yet still begging the world to save them by some miracle?

It scares me. The world and its horrors scare me, that's all. And my fears make me feel like avoiding anymore life just to save me from the potential suffering I might have to go through. Even still, death and its inexplicability, its uncertainty; that also scares me. All of it and all of life just seems so terrifying that I passionately fear the nature of anything and everything that is.

And people – that is another topic that bothers me a lot.

Why are people so strange in how they behave in this world? I sometimes wonder if my mother or father would ever think of murdering me. I mean, they have pinched my ear, slapped me and whipped me with a cane before – they don't seem bothered by the idea of causing me pain and how hurt I may feel when they do such things to me. My sister has kicked me before many times, she's scratched me, hit me with a glass bowl on my chest (this always bothered me significantly because I see her as one of the only people that truly ever cared about me, and for a moment I was convinced she actually didn't). 

I think about how they sometimes hurt me when I do things they don't like, and I fear that no one will ever truly care about me. I mean, when the people you love most don't think twice about hurting you just because you shouted back at them, even when you were only a small child, how can you believe in unconditional love? How can you believe they would protect you and care for you when they themselves are threats in your life? How can you be sure of anybody else, after such experiences? How can I believe in kindness in people when those who were supposed to be the kindest to me, were not entirely so? And even my friends, ever since a very young age, have not always been the supportive people I thought or imagined them to be. 

I had a best friend who bullied me and called me ugly – she made me draw someone ugly and told me I looked like her. This was when I was really young, but it always and still bothers me. Even my teachers have not been the caring and protective people I imagined them to be when I first met them. They're supposed to be the people that ensure justice in the classroom, but I still remember my sixth grade teacher mocking and laughing at me along with the rest of the class because I didn't know the capital of a country. Is that how teachers are supposed to treat students? My most recent experience with a teacher is my piano teacher who was a very old lady living alone. She punched me on the arm, pinched me, insulted me, degraded my playing and made me cry during three consecutive lessons before I stopped going. One time, when I made a mistake, she threw the book off of the piano and made me pick it up. She always slapped my hands away when I was playing wrong and she pinched me so hard it bruised for a few days – this was the last straw, so that was when I decided to stop. Her piano lessons were not worth this sort of abuse.

And you know what bothers me the most? My mum didn't have a problem with it. She wasn't upset with how my teacher was treating me, but rather she was more upset with my wish to quit. I had to talk to her for hours to explain to her how much this meant to me – quitting the lessons. Because going for them had had a very significant effect on my mental health which already wasn't doing so great, so I didn't want to continue whilst knowing I was allowing someone to bring me down and hurt me.

I don't like to think my mother doesn't care about me, but these little things that she does have always bothered me. And the little things people do in general to hurt others have always bothered me. It's also always bothered me when my own friends bring me down – people who I usually think are kind people before I see how they treat me in times of weakness.

I guess these experiences are exaggerated when looking at them through my perspective, because I don't think people intend to hurt others when they do these things. I probably was hurtful, the same way they were, to people in my life without actually meaning to hurt them. We become cruel and mean when we face cruelty from the world ourselves. It is our way of defending ourselves and protecting our own sense of self, and though it does not heal us, the façade of strength and confidence when others show weakness helps us cope with the weakness we ourselves feel at our core. After all, it is my expression of my true, honest self in both weakness and strength that threatens people, I think. I guess people have trouble believing in the good in the world – and this comes from fears like the ones I have of people around us. The fear that love really does not exist and, therefore, self-love and true self-expression also do not exist. I guess it is them trying to bring out the cruel in me so that they can live peacefully in their cruel reality without having to question it or fight for anything. I figure I am living proof of the existence of love, or at least was – my true self has been slightly tarnished by these fears I have learned through the years. I have become slightly less compassionate and forgiving, and I am hoping to return to myself by taking an objective view such as this and regularly analysing my own mind.

Well, that's all for now. I do have a life, don't worry.

I'd love to hear what you think of my ideas, so comment below any thoughts. Have a great day! :3