So I was thinking today, as I had some time to do this, because I spent the majority of the day just sitting in a chair listening to convicts talk about their time in prison and how they felt prison helped or – in most cases – didn’t help them and the facts they thought contributed to them ended up being in prison. Some of it was actually quite interesting, as my aspiration in life – if I have the brains for it – is to become a psychologist and I’ve been thinking clinical, which means that I might end up working with some prisoners, although I might not go down the clinical route in the end, I’m just letting the chips fall where they may – or something like that. But any ways that got me thinking, or allowed me to think, about a time in my life, which I deem to be the darkest period of my life so far – finger crossed that my life never get’s darker then it was then. But then I was thinking about the things that were going on and the things that I did, during that time and I sort of realised that without that experience I don’t think I would be me. I mean I’ve got over the whole thing about the bad people in my life making me stronger and all that jazz. But then with some of the bad experiences I think that they are the reason that I feel so at home, writing about the darker side of life and the darker side of people. I do believe that people can change, but I also believe that they can change for the worse as well as the better. I mean it’s like flipping a coin with some people, then with others, it’s a clear cut path. I don’t know if I have faith in the system we use to try and punish and reform offenders at the moment, but then I don’t think I know enough about it, to really make a proper decision and I like to make informed decisions about things, because then I feel.. justified I suppose might be the right word. But back to the writing, I feel at home writing about these horrible things, but then sometimes I wonder even though I’ve seen a slightly darker side of the human race and all that jazz, doesn’t instantly mean that I’m going to be fine with it does it? There are lot’s of people that can’t talk about the type of stuff and lot’s that refuse to even think about it, but then there’s this part of me that wants to talk about it. Not when it was going on, but now that everything is more or less drawing to a close and I feel like that part of me is slowing falling away, I want to let people know about it – a little. And I think that’s why I tend to write about horrible things, because I want my story out there, even if people think it’s only fiction – which I think suits me best – I want people to know. It doesn’t always matter if they believe it or not, because everyone believe what they want and that is their own right. I can’t force people to see that my life isn’t and wasn’t as hunky dory as they all want to see it as. I mean I’ve been going on about wanting to talk to my friends about things that have been going on, but not feeling as though I can – maybe not going on, but commenting. But then I’ve pretty much always dealt with things myself and not wanted to let people in on my problems, but then sometimes you just need someone to tell you… sometimes like ‘everything isn’t your fault’ or ‘that it’s all going to be alright’. You know just really basic things that aren’t always truthful and even you know it, but just hearing it from someone other than the voices in your head – you can’t deny everyone has a little inner voice that talks to them, it’s a little like a chatty subconscious or something – because it just takes the edge off. Or at least from what I can remember it did.
I used to be an empathetic person and when I say empathetic I mean empathetic. Not oh my friend is upset I’ll look upset with her and try and make her feel better. Sometimes just standing next to someone in a store for a while, was enough. Although because I was quite young I had not idea what was going on and I had a hard time distinguishing my own emotions from the ones I was picking up from other people – I say picking up, but it’s not like a super power, my friend said something along those lines once, a lot of people around the world are like this, although I think I was so young everything was all blurry and mishy-mash. Any ways I’m sort of empathetic, but I tend to ignore it and let my defence mechanisms take care of me instead, as it caused me a lot of pain in the past and so I don’t want to go through that again – blah blah blah. But today I was chatting with a friend just like you do and we got onto a new subject and suddenly she just gets really upset. I mean she was still smiling away and acting all happy, but I could tell she was really upset for some reason. Now if this had been the old me I might have started crying, or pulled her aside to have a little chat about it or something, but I didn’t do anything, I just continued like nothing was wrong. Which got me thinking about how you should treat people like you want to be treated and all that jazz. I want people to speak to me if they thought something was wrong, but then I have to do the same. So tomorrow I’m going to talk to her about it or at least try to. She kind of sensitive, so I don’t know how well things will go.
But I want to make some more changes in myself and maybe this can be one of them. Going back to being just that little bit more empathetic – I was told that’s what I was, but really a naming the thing doesn’t always help and most people don’t really realise how painful it can be, especially when you have no idea what is going on, but then all humans have the capability to be empathetic in their own right.
It’s only 3 weeks till Christmas and I haven’t really gotten any Christmas presents. I’ve tried to find some stuff, but I’m just getting more and more frustrated as time goes on. I used to love buying presents for people and thinking about how they are going to react when they open it, but now it just scares me a little.