I force myself to be silent and watch.
’Cause those of you that read this know that I can rant about stuff easily. I do it several times a day. Heck, several times an hour. But since I’ve come to Bethany, I decided to not be my usual in-your-face obnoxious self and just shut up and listen. It’s a good habit to get into; and easier to do at the cafΓ© because instead of opening my mouth I can just put food or coffee into it.
As a result, some people on this campus actually think I’m quiet. I find this hilarious. My hallmates can tell you different… but that’s okay. When all is said and done, I like being misunderstood. It makes it easier to mess with people’s heads.
But if I come across another blog where people are whining about being alone, unloved, and misunderstood, and as a result their lives suck, I’m gonna shriek. (Guy style.)
I understand that it’s therapeutic to take the things that bug you and stick them on the internet. (Heck, what do you think my blog is all about?) The point about therapy is that you have to deal with your problems and move on. You don’t just sit there, dwell in them, and gripe about them forever. You have to move on. Otherwise you’re not getting any better, and need to do something more about it.
Most of what people have to do about it is change. Back when my life sucked, I realized I was the cause of most of the suckiness. I couldn’t blame my alcoholic control-freak father; I wasn’t living with him anymore. Who was the cause of my loser friends, my bitter personality, my bad habits and influences, and all the people who were pissed at me? …That would be me. In every case.
So I had to change; which is a pain because it’s much easier to blame other people. Whining, “Nobody understands me… nobody gets me… nobody loves me…” puts all the blame on other people. That’s a load of flaming monkey diapers. It’s my fault if everyone misunderstands me; it’s my fault if I offend everyone; it’s my fault if I’m not lovable. If the crap in your life is everyone’s fault but yours, you’re dealing with a big steamin’ pile of unreality.
Hence my shrieking. It reminds me too much of when I was in denial. I was a jibbering idiot. I had to kill off the previous version of myself. So you can kinda guess what I think of the people who write similar such things. (Read into that what you will.)