I’m feeling seriously down outside of The Eerie Silence. Inside the book, it seems my worries don’t matter. Outside, everything’s ugly. My room, food, activities, the sunlight which once seemed beautiful. What happened today? I don’t think it’s usually like this. It may be that Tokyo Ghoul has had a negative effect on me. I don’t want to watch the show anymore… most of the show is violent and ugly. I wanted to see Suzuya which is why I kept watching it, but I realize, all things considered, I may lose more than I may gain. I don’t want to keep feeling like this.
I went to my dad and told him what I said I would tell him. Then I told him I felt that way too, and he just told me I was too young to. I’ve always felt like my dad and I don’t connect emotionally. During lunch, I kept telling my mom I felt down, but she just laughed because I’m a pretty dramatic person most of the time. I have emotional highs and lows so they don’t take my lows seriously. That’s why I hesitate to tell them I’m down. So I’m just telling you. But it feels like nobody listens, so I’ll stop talking now—it’s toxic.
You don’t deserve toxicity. Me neither, so I’ll read now, and forget about this, hopefully.
I feel better now. I talked to my mom about how I felt and I think that somewhat helped. My mood improved only steadily from there. Slumped in my chair, I told her my frustrations, and I came up with a few ideas. I will narrow down my focuses. I said: “maybe it’s because I’m doing so much stuff that I feel overwhelmed.” I mean, I’ve got 6 classes to work for, and in addition I give myself diverse subjects to dedicate time to—to diverse, I think. “Everything’s important” is sort of my reason for that, but maybe I feel I’m spreading myself out too wide and too thin. I’ve always been someone that’s preferred taking a few topics but digging deeply into them to choosing many topics and digging shallowly, and I know this, so I can’t believe I didn’t notice. I guess because the stuff slowly accumulated. I don’t know about the whole “greater meaning” and “greater purpose” thing, but it’s possible I’ll be generally happier if I choose less subjects and dig more deeply. I’ve always liked that.
She made me laugh a bit, and it was talking to her in general that made me feel a little better. She is always there for me to talk to, even if she started laughing when she saw how dramatic I was being. It was natural, but I laughed too because I totally understood why it was funny. I have emotional highs—but I also have emotional lows. My emotional highs are really intense, and I act like I have an unlimited supply of energy. It’s something I can’t really help. I act like a child, I jump around—and that’s part of the reason I identified with Juuzou, I guess—because of his often childlike nature, because of his excitement and enthusiasm at times. But when I go emotionally low, it is very painful for me. And that’s what people often don’t realize, because they learn to not take me seriously.
I don’t blame them.
I don’t know if I would change that part of me if I could. I mean, I know the lows suck, but I don’t want to miss out on the highs. They’re moments of pure happiness, and I feel happiness more intensely, I feel, than others I have witnessed.
And the good thing is that I think I feel happiness more often than sadness.
That high emotional arousal I experience with most emotions also gives me strange characteristics which I wouldn’t recognize myself without.
I don’t know, but I think today’s low was unusually low, and that’s why I’m examining this trait of mine which I don’t usually examine after lows.
My childlike emotions make me seem childlike.
But enough about that.
In Think Smart—which I probably won’t be reading for a while because I had to narrow down by subjects—Restak suggested, near the end of the book, to “develop a magnificent obsession.” I may have subconsciously been waiting for permission to do that. A while back, I was impatiently flipping through the pages and peeking at things to come, when I found that bit of advice, totally out of context. I must’ve mentioned it to my mom, because today while we were talking she said something that made me remember having read that, and I mentioned to her that I’d read something like that in a book somewhere, and she said “I think that book was Think Smart.” So I looked at the book, and sure enough I found it, and maybe excitement at having a purpose lifted me out of my depression.
I love projects. I like having an objective and doing something. I like solving problems, and I like conducting research, but I don’t like time limits. So anyway, Restak suggested I develop a magnificent obsession, and that was just the green light I was waiting for because now I had a reason (a neuroscientist recommended it) to throw myself at some random topic and understand it inside-out.
Because I’m obsessive, and I like that—understanding everything. And I wasn’t even sure if that was something good for my purposes until he said that he’d “observed that most successful people have obsessive character traits that they use to their advantage.”
Here, just take a look at this:
That gives everyone hope, I think, because it suggests success comes out of hard work, not talent. Being obsessive allows me to put in the work, maybe.
So, I think my magnificent obsession will be space, because of my fascination with it.
Yesterday was one of those bad days that I hardly ever experience. I told you I felt better, but after that I went and felt bad again. Today’s been a ray of sunshine in comparison.
I want to end this post here and start another, so that in writing I don’t feel the weight of yesterday’s darkness and loneliness. It’s coming off my toxic words.