when you called shotgun, but woke up in the trunk
I am not a nihilist.
I don't plan to become one.
but sometimes I can't help but ask myself what the point of it all is. that's not supposed to sound like some musing before I swan dive off a bridge. rather it's the feeling of being ground down by the constant monotony and cyclical nature of working for a living. that's overdramatic, but I know I can't be the only one who feels that way. never enough money coming in, costs raising, the constant degradation of manufactured things. it's all a lot to take on amongst all the rest of life. sometimes I'm left to ponder if life could have been different. before I get too ahead of myself, I don't honestly think I would want it to be. the few close people in my life are very special to me, I by and large like myself, and I do find joy in things.
still, there's that part in the back of the mind. a deep recess.
I loved to draw as a child. I received praise for this, it got somewhat good as time passed. as I started into middle school and eventually high school, I would draw for leisure and give drawings away to friends and family. I was praised as being talented, gifted even. post high school I would abandon this craft and never return amongst this, there were other things going on. I slept in school a lot. I rarely ever did any homework. I was constantly sent home with referrals for not turning in work. and this wasn't just high school, this was as early as the first grade. unless I earnestly loved a subject, I would hardly participate. I wasn't disruptive though, and I wasn't acting out, so my teachers left me alone most of the time.
before I continue, I have gone through evaluations for ADHD and some other things. all negative.
still, something was up. was it that my parents were too lenient? I don't think so. without divulging too much my father was a cop and I was raised in a fairly strict white christian household in my earlier life. they only asked that I try my best. I'm still alive, and I still have a good relationship with them, so I don't want to really place blame on them. so was it me? was I the problem? partially, yes. maybe fully it's me that's at fault.
shortly after leaving high school, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety, and a panic disorder. it wasn't until my 30s that I was formally diagnosed with OCD as well. I've never not had a job, and when I eventually went to college, I received a 3.967 gpa. so was it that I was just an unmotivated kid? I was just lazy?
I'm sure that there was part of that. Without putting my whole life out on the page, there were things going on at home. family members struggled with addiction I'll let you guess who and even all these years later after I have talked to my parents, they always tell me that the school never once approached them to suggest any additional support or concern for me.
in hindsight, I could have spoken up that I was struggling. we could all use more agency in our own life. but I had my art. I was trying to make friends. I spent my time on Gaia online, myspace, AIM, world of warcraft, playing gamecube with my sibling. mental health wasn't talked about like it is today. there's still plenty of stigma around it, but I was never encouraged to talk to someone. so while I will say that there's some of me that was lazy and unmotivated, I also know that there were other factors going on. I'm sure growing up and attending school in a rural midwest area didn't help matters either.
I'm losing track of what I originally set out to say with this. likely I had nothing to say in the first place. time is just a strange thing. it's easy to wonder over what could have been, or how things could have been different. it's easy to have your friends, family, and teachers praise you for something you appear to be good at, and then stumble out of it. isn't that the cliche meme? if you were a "former gifted child", you're saddled with burnout, anxiety, lack of motivation. something like that.
I'm not a crybaby, I'm the crybaby
xoxo - nik