Okay then… can I recollect? My mother asked me to try to write this down, but it has been hours and even just a few minutes after the conversation it was very foggy. Lat me see… It was about my ability to hold a job more or less.
I brought up… something I had noted to her the night before. It was about how I took to school, then college and thus questioned if once I manage to get a job… will it turn out the same? Vague… so can it be elaborated?
I’ve mentioned this to the girls as well. I went to school. I graduated early. Did I care about school though? Did I strive to go to college and get a degree? Not really. I could care less in the terms of wishing. I only “cared” about those things through obligatory ways.
You need to graduate from high school. You need to go to college to have better chances of getting a job you want. Right? That is the gist of things from what I have seen. The thing is though, I lack ambitions and goals. I suppose one could say I lack drive.
I never had an idea for a major. I had no great dream of what I wanted to be when older. I just knew I had to do what I had to do to get by. If that meant school, I’d do it. If that meant college, I’d do it. It goes on.
The thought came along one morning while I was eating soup. It is written in this on April the twelfth even.
“I had managed to complete my junior and senior years in two months and a half. I was not driven to graduate early. I was not some genius who was able to skip years of school. I just wanted it over with. The same would have been for college. I did not want to do it. It was considered a necessity if one wished to get somewhere in life. I intended to go through it like I did with the preliminary schooling. I think I finally came down to the fact that I was utterly miserable, only did things out of obligation and no longer could handle that anymore. I was becoming utterly sick of the whole thing. Back then I remember times I would wonder what life really was. It was all clockwork and would remain clockwork until the batteries died down. That depressed me.”
My mother told me that having a job was not like school. I just needed to find a job that was also something I liked doing. The thing is though what do I actually like doing that could become a possible job?
The therapist I saw on Monday asked me what I did and what I enjoyed doing. That was a hard question for me. What I enjoyed doing…? Enjoy is a funny word. How does one know what enjoyment is? I’ve always lacked the ability to understand and pinpoint such things.
At the moment I am more at peace than I ever have been. I am content and I believe I am rather happy. I never thought I’d say or write such a thing when younger. Well, here I am. The thing is, will that remain later on?
I am a precise, intense and picky person I believe. At least, that is so in regards to things I work with. Kyle for one knows just by the conversations about computer art programs. I suppose that is due to my OCD tendencies if anything. If things do not go to my standards, I become irritable. I’ll try to control it… but if it continues, I will snap. I suppose that is why I could not do in a normal school setting.
I snapped a lot in my last years in regular schooling. I always tried to compensate for the down points by making myself more comfortable. However, such things were not highly acceptable. Some teachers allowed such, others did not. I know such luck will not occur in real life. People will not be so sympathetic in the “real world”.
Examples of what occurred in classrooms was how I spent my free time or even how I made myself comfortable for learning. Rather than sitting in the desk, I often liked to sit on it. Other cases was sitting differently than the others in the classroom.
In seventh grade Honors English class I sat in a desk that was a yard away from all of the others. I just moved there one day. It was not being used. The desk was the sort they used in elementary school classrooms. It was a big rectangular desk with a separated chair. it was right next to the window and I’d sit there somewhat away from all of the others.
In eighth grade I did the same oddity in my Science class. The room was set up for Science and experiments. The “desks” were like long lab tables. There were even sinks that were not usable on them. I moved to the end ledge where people do not sit. Thus, while everyone else was facing forward, I was sitting to look at the wall to the wall counterclockwise of the one they were facing. Both cases, the teachers allowed such.
In high school it was less acceptable, but some allowed me to do my own thing. A science teacher I had in tenth grade for Chemistry – god, I loved her – allowed me to get up when I had free time and draw on her board. she let me draw at my desk on my free time as well. When class was not occurring she allowed me to sit on the desk. I recall another time when the day was more or less a catch-up day I asked if I could sit near a window. The outer part of the room was lined by a long Science table used to do experiments on. It had the sinks as well. She allowed me to.
Another case was my English teacher that year. She was like one of my best friends. I’d stay in the room during lunch time and talk with her. Sometimes she’d try to get me to eat by sharing her lunch with me. Anyway, I always sat next to her desk at a podium that was next to it. She did not seem to mind. Perhaps it was because it kept all of the rowdy kids at bay – because it was not an honors class and a lot of the kids in there were out to do as little work as possible. The teacher mainly was out just to make sure they passed.
She was fine with me going ahead of everyone else. Sometimes I’d be a week ahead of everyone in the English class and would have time to just do whatever because of that. The teacher was fine with that.
I’ve always done best at my own pace, be it slow or fast. When it comes to getting something done I will usually try to get it done as soon and efficiently as I possibly can make it as possible. I like to get things over with.
When I’d get assignments that could be done in a week, I’d get them done the night of the day I had them assigned or at least as soon as I could. When I was allowed to work at my own pace at the alternative school I went break speed and got it over with in less than three months. When asked to do something I will usually do it as soon as asked just to have it done and taken care of.
I go at it intensely… and usually end up tiring myself quite a bit once it is done. I’ve always been considered serious. I’ll agree with that. I suppose that is why I do things as quickly as possible while at the same time making sure it is done to the best of my capabilities. If it is accomplished then I can relax again and not worry. If it is not, then I’ll be wasting time.
I suppose that is humorous for one such as I to say. I mean, am I not the one who is always at home, works my own hours at keeping the house clean and then usually spend the rest of the time on the computer? It is true, but that does not mean I am wasting time. At least, to me I am not.
Like this past week and a half, I’ve been working on this computer. I’ve been putting it in order and trying to make it as close to my standards as possible. I lost sleep, forgot to eat, spent up a lot of energy from concentration and the like. I did not consider it a waste of time. If I were to give up on my conquest and let it be, I then would consider that a waste of time.
Some would say all I do is sit in front of the computer and read. Is that a waste of time? Perhaps. But is it not much similar to those who sit around and read text books for classes? The only difference is that you are being graded on one case. At least, I see it like that on my side.
Why? I read. I gather information. I draw at times and create – something you do in an art class. I’ll teach myself things. I taught myself basics on HTML. Because of that, when in high school, I found Web-mastering utterly boring and restricting because I did not need to know the terms and what the heck HTML stood for. If I am never going to use it, I consider it a waste of time, memory and interest.
Well, that and I lack the ability to remember as well as comprehend names. That never was a strong point of mine. The idea of those who will always remember a face but not a name would be a good analogy. People can talk about something I already know and understand, but the communication is not bridged because they use lingo while I rely on just on hand learning.
I suppose it is due to my particular way of being able to be taught – I’m a visual learner. Words do not process for me that well. Ironic perhaps since I write quite a bit. Then again I know what I am getting at to begin with.
Anyway, I explained many of these things to my mother. Yes, we are getting back at hand here. I ramble too much. Well, we then tried to tap into things I do have an interest in. We came to that I like working with my hands. I like putting things together. I like puzzles. I do not do well with restrictions. I work at my own pace.
With the first three, I gave examples of why I believe. I noted that when I was being analyzed by the psychologist, I enjoyed the testing. I liked doing the puzzles, word associations and the like. I noted I always liked doing that sort of stuff. I had wanted to do small engine repair while in high school, but my schedule would not allows such. Why I wished to was to simply be able to tinker with things using my hands.
I recall doing puzzles, be them jigsaw or game like ones. I explained that I liked doing those because you do not require any specific knowledge or rules. You cannot be taught it step by step. You figure it out on your own. Someone cannot just say, in order to solve this you must start this way, then use such and such mathematical problem, know the date of this, etcetera. It does not require a great, learned knowledge. It requires commonsense and the ability to use it. At least, that is how I view it.
I suppose I also like doing that sort of thing because it is all based on your abilities alone. Sure, once and a while you can ask for help, but it is not something that requires great explanation. I never did well with others trying to explain things to me. It just does not seem to work with how I process information.
I also like analyzing, but to my own accord. I doubt I could put it to use when it is so limited. It has to peek my interest in order for me to want to analyze it, but when I do, I am fervent. I supposed I am a rather… particular individual.
There was another mentioning to my mother. I cannot quite recollect how it came to the conversation, but it was about how I react to things. As known, I will get irritable when things go out of balance of my specifications. Heh, I guess “routine” might be everything to me… even though it is a routine even I have a hard time pinpointing. It is just a nature thing.
Still though, once it is off and if it does not go back into order soon, I do not… meet the standards of how normalcy occurs. I remember hiding under desks at school just to get away even though the form was not quite… rational. I would become utterly irritable. If things would continue on I’d either lash out or inflict something upon myself. That is how I cope.
Like how I am able to work with things, I am also physical in how I cope. I would hit or kick people. I was not vocal. I never did well with words. That is my sister’s department. I lack a slick, stinging tongue. To compensate for that, I react through physical means.
I remember a time at high school when I was in Algebra 2. It was my sophomore year. The Algebra teacher was gone for the day and a substitute was there. The day before there was an assignment. I finished it early as usual and turned it in. She told me to work on something. All of the other students got into groups because they were allowed to.
I did not have anything I could work on in the classroom and I had a pretty tiring day so I just rested there with my head on my desk. That did not do well with the substitute. She insisted I do something. I tried, but what was I to do? I had no homework, I already did my math assignment, I did not have a book to read… I tried drawing, but I was not in the mood. She got onto me again. I tried yet again. Perhaps I’d write. I did not get that far though. I reached for something to write with in my bag, but ended up pulling out a pair of scissors.
That day I started snipping skin off my wrist. There was no slitting, no slicing the veins… I just started taking off small bits of skin. I remember finding the blood absolutely beautiful. The substitute walked past me a couple of times, but did not notice. I found that humorous. She noticed when I was simply resting and yet she did not notice I was making myself bleed. Simply put, I considered her an idiot and continued. I think I noticed the other kids were becoming aware what I was doing, but they did not say anything. I was… very… I just did not care. in my mind I thought, “You wanted me to do something. Are you happy now? I’m doing something! I’m not resting my head on the desk because I am freaking tired and feel sick! No! I am doing what you said! I’m doing something!”
I suppose one could say I was a bit upset. Heh. When the substitute was finally informed… I do not quite remember. The principle or someone like that was obviously informed. They had the class ushered out. There were some adults in there later, but all I remember out of them was my Geometry teacher from the year before. They took the scissors away from me and I was crying, sobbing or something. I was sent home for the day. I remained pretty upset.
Things like that happened before. Back in middle school grades six to eight and then what years I was in regular high school. I did not manage to get the sharp object before though. Still, I had plenty of breakdowns in the middle of a class, I saw one of the school counselors often, and pretty much… Just survived I guess one could call it.
Another thing that was littered about my school career was hitting and kicking people. That was how I dealt with things. I did not know what else to do, and it just came naturally. It was how I vented. Yeah, I wrote often as a venting process, but they did not do a thing for physical venting. Nothing else did as a substitute either. I tried. I did. But putting the adrenaline into exercise or the like did absolutely nothing.
The whole point of that train of thought is, I will likely still be that way whenever stressed. I do not think that will do for whenever I am in a stressed moment and I instinctively/naturally lash out and hurt someone. Nope… you cannot do that. If you do you will be sent to jail for assault.
I know I’ve tried calming myself during those times. That at most postponed. In the end it would come out though. My mom could tell times when I’d be irritable. I do not know well, since it is not of my view point… but I do know whenever I am in such moods I try to leave the room and hideaway until calm again or I ask the person to leave me alone because I do not want to end up doing something I’d regret. Usually it seems just leaving would do the trick… but that would likely only work at home. The other option usually either causes more questions or makes the person being told such to be affronted or something. Simply put, it is not a win situation.
So, what would one be able to do in regards to having a job when he or she is like this?
Sigh. Anyway, I’ll be seeing the therapist again on Monday at five thirty. My dad will be coming down this Friday, perhaps arriving around six. I’m getting off now. I’ve written quite a bit.