When I was a kid, I was the pastor's daughter of a very small church in NY state. Dad wasn't saved yet, so life was tough. It meant that there was unnecessary yelling, slamming doors, and walking on eggshells.
My sister was blissfully ignorant of the tension most of the time. She lived in her own world of imaginary friends and animals. She always has had the best stories and we all still think she should be writing.
Anyway. As a kid, I didn't really fit in. I was quiet, shy, got along with boys better than girls, and got along better with adults than kids. The other little girls told me I was weird most of the time. It was the truth, I was unusual. My vocabulary was bigger than most of theirs, my understanding of life was better, and I had a concept of death that most of them didn't even have yet. This caused me to relate more to boys than girls.
I started hanging out with two brothers. I'll call them Carl and Evert. They were my best friends for years, I hung out more with them than any of the other kids. We would talk. Just talk for hours, not even play. They could eventually coax me to play, but it would take a while and they were willing to wait.
I was never an optimistic child. My dad attributes this as his fault, we both are fatalistic in nature. We are both slowly becoming optimists, but it's taking longer than I'd like. I never assumed I'd make it to adulthood. I assumed I'd die young, like teenage years. I would come up with scenarios of cancer or other horrific deaths. So, I just figured I'd never get old enough to have kids.
Shockingly, I'm 22 now. When I hit 18 I realized I'd actually live and started trying to figure out what to do with my life. But that's not really what we're talking about.
I still can't handle yelling or loud noises. I'll usually end up trying to escape the noise in any way possible. This includes running away, hiding somewhere, or tuning out until it's over. This is not healthy by the way. I never recognized it as an unhealthy behavior but I do now. In college classes, if a professor seemed irritated, I would try my best not to react. I usually would withdraw within myself out of fear and it would take at least two weeks for me to be able to participate in class again. When my math professor figured that out, he did his best to hide his irritation. Whenever he spoke to me it was always in soft coaxing tones so I'd interact with him.
Since then it's gotten better, I can interact with anyone. I will explain my nervousness with crowds in another post. That one might take a little longer to explain.
My sister was blissfully ignorant of the tension most of the time. She lived in her own world of imaginary friends and animals. She always has had the best stories and we all still think she should be writing.
Anyway. As a kid, I didn't really fit in. I was quiet, shy, got along with boys better than girls, and got along better with adults than kids. The other little girls told me I was weird most of the time. It was the truth, I was unusual. My vocabulary was bigger than most of theirs, my understanding of life was better, and I had a concept of death that most of them didn't even have yet. This caused me to relate more to boys than girls.
I started hanging out with two brothers. I'll call them Carl and Evert. They were my best friends for years, I hung out more with them than any of the other kids. We would talk. Just talk for hours, not even play. They could eventually coax me to play, but it would take a while and they were willing to wait.
I was never an optimistic child. My dad attributes this as his fault, we both are fatalistic in nature. We are both slowly becoming optimists, but it's taking longer than I'd like. I never assumed I'd make it to adulthood. I assumed I'd die young, like teenage years. I would come up with scenarios of cancer or other horrific deaths. So, I just figured I'd never get old enough to have kids.
Shockingly, I'm 22 now. When I hit 18 I realized I'd actually live and started trying to figure out what to do with my life. But that's not really what we're talking about.
I still can't handle yelling or loud noises. I'll usually end up trying to escape the noise in any way possible. This includes running away, hiding somewhere, or tuning out until it's over. This is not healthy by the way. I never recognized it as an unhealthy behavior but I do now. In college classes, if a professor seemed irritated, I would try my best not to react. I usually would withdraw within myself out of fear and it would take at least two weeks for me to be able to participate in class again. When my math professor figured that out, he did his best to hide his irritation. Whenever he spoke to me it was always in soft coaxing tones so I'd interact with him.
Since then it's gotten better, I can interact with anyone. I will explain my nervousness with crowds in another post. That one might take a little longer to explain.
No comments:
Post a Comment