Frustration Takes Over
When I don't understand things I get frustrated, or more like when I keep trying to grasp the concept of something but it just won't stick. It's like trying to put a sticker on a bumper but it doesn't stick, so you add a little tape, still doesn't work, so you add a lot of tape, now when this doesn't work you get really frustrated.
I understand how you feel Rob. I want to know so much more than my brain is even capable of knowing. Even entering a bookstore leaves me feeling a little aggitated at all the information I haven't yet learned. This overwhelming feeling of emptiness inside my head begins to feel really heavy. It's a bit ironic though that an empty brain can feel heavy.
I guess I've just cracked, and I need a little time to calm down. It's not like I've gone mental or anything but I'm just an emotional wreck. I don't know why I feel the way I do, or how to control it.
Today I got out of bed and turned my alarm off, I didn't want to wake up and start another day. So I crawled back underneath my down comforter and fell asleep. I dreamt I was in a different world, and everything was in harmony-a perfect ecosystem, but then the phone rang. It's pulsating ring awoke me from subconcious thought and I had to go and give it to my mom. Then I returned back to my room, sat at the foot of my bed and contemplated if I really wanted to go to school. Next, I started crying and I realized I really didn't want to do anything but sleep and write on my story.
"Mom, can I stay home today!?!" I yelled half asleep.
"Why?" my mom replied.
"I just don't feel like going."
"That's fine," she concluded.
Then I sat there for probably another ten minutes in constant thought. I pondered a lot in those moments which passed like slugs. And I realized something, if I stay home it's just giving in. Giving in to what, you might ask yourself. Giving into laziness, idleness, worry, doubt, depression, sadness and every feeling I don't want to have control over me. So I got up and looked in the mirror, then I preceded to wash the sleep from my eyes, and wet down my hair. After putting on a pair of rolled up jeans, my favorite black sweatshirt and a my slip-on converses, I felt loads better. Or atleast a lot better than when I first woke up not wanted to do anything.
School went as usual, it wasn't dreadfully boring, I actually liked the work I did. But someone keeps knocking on the door to my mind and even though I haven't answered it the incessant pounding noise is driving me crazy. I love this person, probably with the most real romantic love I've ever possesed. I miss him when he's not around, but it's also hard to be with him. Not all the time of course, but I'm not sure what percent of the time. The emptiness that results from thinking about not having this person in my life, is as heavy as the feeling I get in the bookstore. But as the cliche goes actions speak louder than words. I don't read the actions of this person like I would those of anyone else, this in itself is unhealthy. When is too far? What is too much? And when am I putting myself down by not reading every word and understanding it's meaning?
I understand how you feel Rob. I want to know so much more than my brain is even capable of knowing. Even entering a bookstore leaves me feeling a little aggitated at all the information I haven't yet learned. This overwhelming feeling of emptiness inside my head begins to feel really heavy. It's a bit ironic though that an empty brain can feel heavy.
I guess I've just cracked, and I need a little time to calm down. It's not like I've gone mental or anything but I'm just an emotional wreck. I don't know why I feel the way I do, or how to control it.
Today I got out of bed and turned my alarm off, I didn't want to wake up and start another day. So I crawled back underneath my down comforter and fell asleep. I dreamt I was in a different world, and everything was in harmony-a perfect ecosystem, but then the phone rang. It's pulsating ring awoke me from subconcious thought and I had to go and give it to my mom. Then I returned back to my room, sat at the foot of my bed and contemplated if I really wanted to go to school. Next, I started crying and I realized I really didn't want to do anything but sleep and write on my story.
"Mom, can I stay home today!?!" I yelled half asleep.
"Why?" my mom replied.
"I just don't feel like going."
"That's fine," she concluded.
Then I sat there for probably another ten minutes in constant thought. I pondered a lot in those moments which passed like slugs. And I realized something, if I stay home it's just giving in. Giving in to what, you might ask yourself. Giving into laziness, idleness, worry, doubt, depression, sadness and every feeling I don't want to have control over me. So I got up and looked in the mirror, then I preceded to wash the sleep from my eyes, and wet down my hair. After putting on a pair of rolled up jeans, my favorite black sweatshirt and a my slip-on converses, I felt loads better. Or atleast a lot better than when I first woke up not wanted to do anything.
School went as usual, it wasn't dreadfully boring, I actually liked the work I did. But someone keeps knocking on the door to my mind and even though I haven't answered it the incessant pounding noise is driving me crazy. I love this person, probably with the most real romantic love I've ever possesed. I miss him when he's not around, but it's also hard to be with him. Not all the time of course, but I'm not sure what percent of the time. The emptiness that results from thinking about not having this person in my life, is as heavy as the feeling I get in the bookstore. But as the cliche goes actions speak louder than words. I don't read the actions of this person like I would those of anyone else, this in itself is unhealthy. When is too far? What is too much? And when am I putting myself down by not reading every word and understanding it's meaning?