Now college was a very positive experience for me. I met some of my best friends ever, got to travel to some amazing places, and had some very unique experiences. I learned a lot more going to college than just accounting and marketing strategies. I learned how to use a hair straightener (seriously, I used to think the girls would put their heads on an ironing board and use the iron to straighten their hair). I met people who were genuine and honest and positive. I learned how to operate a bus with a wheelchair lift; how to collaborate with a team; and how to pay my bills (I had only ever had my cell phone bill before). My college friends introduced me to social media and other cool things on the internet. They helped me improve my writing and social skills, and more importantly, they helped me with my social skills. I met my best friends in college, and I had a lot of great memories and experiences. That night, though, I couldn't think of one positive experience or memory. Instead, my brain automatically and intensely decided that every negative experience, every moment of insecurity and embarrassment, every doubt I had in college was everything.
I thought about my experience in the dorms, where I met Sally and Whitney, two wonderfully amazing friends. All I could think about was my next door neighbor fighting with her boyfriend, the guy the sophomores dragged to the elevator where he proceeded to empty the copious amounts of alcohol out of his stomach, the time fucktards gave me shit on the way to a dance, or the fifty other disturbing moments in the dorm. I didn't think about the birthday party my new friends gave me. I didn't think about Cinco de Mayo margaritas or the time I had 5 bottles of Captain Morgan in my fridge and nothing else. I certainly didn't think about the time Ryan and I manned Jitters and we had to share the step stool, which still required us to use the counter sometimes.
I tried to remember the great experience I had with Forensics, but I couldn't. I thought about the times Ben and I butted heads, the time Jerkface kept intruding on my space to fuck with me, or the times I got chastised for talking a little too in-depth about sex (although they learned that I stopped when Janine started talking about birth). I couldn't stop thinking about the excruciating loneliness I felt on a lot of trips, always feeling like the odd man out. What didn't come to mind were the social get-togethers like Homecoming events, Halloween parties, Christmas parties, Sorber happenings. I loved dinners, jokes, quotes, car rides, practices, tournaments, and even driving 3 hours in the wrong direction. I got to travel and see places and try new things. Amazing experience right? Even the night Shauna and I got puked on and the new guy tried to kill me with air freshener (I had severe allergic reactions before my nose surgery). Even THAT was an interesting experience. I loved forensics and all my forensicating friends, and I knew they at least loved me sometimes. Then why did I keep thinking about being blamed for making someone cry (I honestly did not do anything)?
I thought about all of my classes, the apartments and houses I lived in, my trip to Ireland, my friends, my professors, jobs, and other activities, but the negatives of everything were the only memories I could recall. That is how I go through life. I'm sad, lonely, angry, embarrassed all the time. My mind takes all of my experiences, all of my good memories, all my love. It takes them and shakes them around like a kid with an etch-a-sketch, and all my good memories fall away like the metal flakes, leaving only the memories that got jabbed into the mind and will not shake loose (if you've ever had an etch-a-sketch, you know what I mean).
When I thought about these things, it made me hate everyone, and it made me lonely. For those 20 minutes, I hated everything and lay there in despair wondering why no one cared about me. I wanted to lash out with fists and tongue. I wanted to scream and rage. I cried.
Fortunately, I was able to remind myself that my friends, my true friends, have shown me friendship and love. How often have I asked for comfort or company and been denied? Almost never, and always for good reason. I've been to their weddings; I've met and played with their children. They have invited me to parties and asked for my company. My good friends have included me in their lives because they love me as I love them.
Unfortunately, I am not always able to talk my brain down. Sometimes I spend days, even weeks like this. I haven't spoken to one specific friend for months because I can't remember why I'm friends with her. I have avoided friends and family because I have been overwhelmed thinking they dislike me or they're not good people. I have inclinations to tell them off, even though I have never shared my fears or feelings. Sometimes, I do end up lashing out. Sometimes, I give in to the thoughts and the Irish whistle starts shooting off thoughts that should not be mine. Sometimes, I hurt people with those words, and most of the time, I hurt myself.
So this is an apology to everyone I have ever met. I'm sorry I hate you sometimes. I'm sorry if I have ever lashed out at you for no reason. I'm sorry I doubted your friendship. I'm sorry I hurt you. I wish I could tell you that I'm working on it. I wish I could heal the wounds I have given you. I wish I could tell you everything going on in this chemically fucked up brain of mine so you would know and be able to tell the rest of me that my brain is lying. So I'm sorry.
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