bzarcher | (no subject) (Reply)

*sighs*

Yeah. So apparently I either forget too much of what some people consider important, or don't say enough.

I apparently spend too much time focusing on what is around me, and not "letting my brain relax."

I don't do anything right, anyhow. Why is today any different?

Apparently I can't MUSH worth a damn. I can't remember stuff for character backgrounds that I didn't create and I shoulda read game manuals better for worth a damn. I can't do anything that my friends feel is important.

When I was 4, my best friend was diagnosed ADD. My parents were worried about me, too. But they didn't want to put me on drugs. I got sick enough when I was little. So my dad started a "game."

I was locked into my room. I had to memorize the room -exactly-, down to the bookshelves. I had 45 minutes. If I could not recite what was in the room and locations correctly, I was sent back in. If I did not make it by the third try, I was grounded for the rest of the night.

Did that every night until 5th grade. Ever since then...I -can't stop- trying to memorize who and what is around me. Constantly. I have a near photographic memory, and this only feeds it. Telling me to stop thinking so much about what is around me...I can't. I've tried. My damn brain is hardwired to this. Even when it gives me migranes so bad I can feel the skin at my temple twitching. I can't stop it. Even when I used to take 16 advil a day. Even when, like Friday, I have 2 longhorn iced teas and 3 irish coffees inside me. Even when I'm 36 hours sleep deprived. I can't stop.

And now...I don't know. I'm unable to do what my friends enjoy well. I'm unable to do what I enjoy well. Work is the only constant I can routinely succeed in.

Oh. I guess I should be happy about this:
Chinese:A-
21st century warfare:B+
Canterbury Tales:B
Tutorial:A
Russian History:A-
Archery:A
Chorus:A

Deans list again. I guess if I confine myself to writing papers or shoving my hands into computer cases I do fine.

But I'd fucking kill to have some of my MUSHing friends smile at me and tell me we had a good RP scene instead of having to go back and fix all my mistakes.

And some asshole was throwing a football against the wall of my room that adjoins the lounge. It would seem that my coming out looking rather pissed and holding the driftwood staff that's almost as tall as me and with the kinda wicked looking natural hook on it makes people pay attention.

Can't stop writing. I'm cutting myself open for the wondrous masses of the internet, and no matter how much it hurts, or how much I want to stop, I can't. I just keep writing. No matter how much I want to stop. It's like OCD. I can't stop chronicling how I fail others and myself.

It's so nice to know myself so well.

Be even better if I could look at nights like this and actually like who that was.