First was my (as he said) phobic disorder to deep water, in which he wrote a letter suggesting that I should be placed on an alternative PE program. He also mentioned an unstructured treatment for such which is exposing me to my fear little by little. I could handle it, I thought.
Next was the brought up social anxiety/phobia and I think this is where things get a bit crazy. After a short story-telling ('cause there's no way that I would reveal everything when a relative is around), I was prescribed to take a medicine in case my nerves starts to get into me (important presentations and such). Again, I was okay with it until he mentioned that it is somehow addicting.
I tried it the first day I got back at school because there's a huge chance that I'd be called for a recitation regarding our homework. I could have been fine with it if it wasn't for the content of the homework that, for some reason, triggered the feelings that I have tried so hard to hide (to the point that I denied such exist) from when I was fifteen. Well, I did admit my true feelings through my first blog.
In a normal person's point of view, it could have been something that they would look back into and laugh their hearts out. It could be an experience that could have slightly pushed them in becoming a better person. It could have been that a shy individual needs in overcoming such.
But I wasn't that kind of person. The same thing with how my high school days went the opposite way how movies perceived it to be - a chapter of life that a person would always love to go back into.
To sum things up, I felt so rotten when I was asked to shout in front of the class and some other student who were then taking their break. I felt so horrible that I got slightly proud of myself for pulling off the words "Ayaw pong tumigil eh..." with a smile when asked why I was still crying and for admitting that everyone's looking great without me messing the whole thing with my lame actions. The person of course later on explained to me that he did all of it in the hope that I'd get so angry and I'd end up shouting. But I have more self control than that, sad to say. I'd rather tear up and have it all build up inside me than utter random words that I would eventually just regret saying. And looking back, I wished I said to him and to everyone else how rotten it felt like to be doing such. Maybe, if I was able to somehow stand up for myself, they would stop and think things through until they understand me.
Will they really bother? I'd like to think that they actually will. Even if it seemed impossible, 'cause who on earth would dare to understand such an insanely, unreasonably shy and timid individual who is the exact opposite of their personality? Would you?
I also got some words of encouragement that fateful day like "Do your best. Prove him wrong." I appreciated it. I know they're concern and all that. But I then realized that concern is far different from actually understanding. No one understood how rotten I felt at that time. No one understood how hard it is to do my best from the very start and not even reach the mediocre level of their standards. No one understood how snapping out of it is harder than me trying not to go around our house and search for a blade or cutter whenever I feel like committing it. No one. But it wasn't their fault. Hindi naman kasi ako nagsasalita.
But at the end of every day, I thank them for trying to reach out to me. I thank everyone for trying to help me go through something that I am either afraid or not ready of. Sadly, only a few worked. Still... Thank you.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there maybe in silence... a line from the poem "Desiderata" that she will never forget. (an excerpt from the description they gave me on our yearbook)
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