I initially did not want to post this here. However, I felt that would be censoring the not-so-nice bits of my life. It’s like glossing over, digital retouching on the face of a model in a magazine. It’s unreal. So this post is kind of like me showing my naked body without airbrushing.
My Achilles heel is that I cannot control my emotions. Just how some guys are proned to be involved in fights, I am as proned to be found crying over a rude statement said about me.
As a child, I was a huge crybaby. If I missed home, I’d cry. If I was losing when playing a game with friends, I’d cry and pretend it’s because I have family problems. If a teacher flicked his fingers on my face for sleeping after completing an exam, I’d cry and felt like I’m molested all over.
I sound rather … disgusting, don’t I? In an insufferable, pointless self-pitying way.
I don’t blame you. I wish I don’t melt into tears so easily. I wish I could control my emotions better, just like everybody else. Maybe it’s an unconscious desire for attention, I don’t know.
A perfect example is today.
I was reading a book in class. We were divided into groups to do a class exercise. We were given one copy per group. As we only had one paper to pass up, I made my partner write the answers after we’ve discussed them; she was obliging enough. My lecturer caught me reading openly, and she exploded. She said if I didn’t like being in the class, I could get lost, I was insulting her etc. I don’t remember the exact words uttered. I never had much respect for her, but I did not read to spite her. I told her it was not my intention, and that we’ve finished discussing which was why I was reading while waiting for the rest of the groups to finish. My partner was just almost finished writing our answers. It probably looked as if I had not done any work.
I was furious initially. There were other classmates who are ruder to her than I was. Some were being subtly cheeky when they asked questions. One even made the loser sign on her forehead while the lecturer’s back was turned. And here I am being accused of showing dissent in her class, just because I was reading after completing my work?!
Then I just kept silent, the scene repeating in my head. My lips were pressed tightly. I focused my eyes on the print of my classmate’s t-shirt. I knew if my eyes met anyone else’s I would cry. I was determined not to cry this time.
Well, naturally I failed. I tried to distract myself by scribbling on a piece of paper as she discussed the answers in class. People talked about writing and art therapy, I thought this is a good time to put it to the test.
It did not work for me. Instead, my agitated silence must have been so foul that my lecturer abruptly said she needed a break because she was feeling stressed.
When she came back, I mumbled something about not feeling well and gave her a note apologising for my behaviour and left the class. I walked resolutely to my car at the car park. I just burst into loud, noisy sobs the moment I sank into the driver’s seat.
I felt like I was made to feel wrong even though I was not. But since I was the only one reading, maybe I am wrong. My other classmates were talking; maybe she could have tolerated chatting but not reading. Perhaps to her it’s a symbol of my desire to escape my reality.
I cried as if somebody I know had died. I cried so hard that I didn’t know exactly why I was crying. I think I was crying because I felt victimised. Because I made a fool of myself crying in class. Because I upsetted my lecturer. Because I am somehow always messed up when it comes to difficult lecturers.
I feel like I am right yet wrong. Or wrong yet right. I don’t know if I had really done nothing wrong or if I’m in denial of my very obvious mistake.
I had to pour this out. None of my classmates have send me a text message since I left. I think that means I am in the wrong. Even so, I’d like to have confided in someone. So you’re the reluctant reader of my self-afflicted woes.
So there it is, in black and white. This is definitely the most honest post yet.
I feel slightly better already. I should be all right soon.
The next day: Juan, muchos gracias for your thoughtfulness. 🙂 and Shomoshor, for your sweet comment.
While some totally pretended as if nothing had happened, other were asking, “How are you?” when they were obviously referring to yesterday. Like just fucking specifically what you really want to ask, okay. If you don’t even dare to spell it out in words, how can self trust to confide in you with own feelings? Beating around the poor beaten-up bush. And no one said anything, if self was right or wrong. It’s alright not to care if something is happening to one of them, because it’s not happening to them themselves.
Edit Monday 27 August 2007: Lecturer personally apologised, all is resolved. A lot of misunderstanding could have been avoided if people choose the correct, more appropriate words. And misunderstanding can only be resolved with communication and cooperation.