 Monday
Coincidentally, it has been exactly 3 years since DP's death. I must say that day to day, I understand more and more of the conversations we had and his opinions. I am unsure whether this is a sign I'm getting a bit blue in my old age or whether he was light-years ahead of me in his power of observation. To think that I was so dismissive of his opinions back then and so adamant that his pessimistic views were wrong. It still unnerves me to remember that he said he talked to me to "sharpen the knife". I took it to mean his mind at the time, but for 3 years now it could have meant something else. I wonder what he would say if he saw me now. I bet he would know exactly what to say. I did wonder whether or not I should tell RM, but I think it would be intrusive of me. He didn't tell me what had happened, TR did. So. And just because of this experience (and others) with suicide doesn't mean I am a better listener or in a better position to comfort him. |
 Friday Back from camp: EXHAUSTED. Did not go to after-party... probably should have, but I was way too tired to pretend that drunken people don't scare me. Camp was good - I enjoy playing with children, making them laugh, showing them "cool" things and encouraging/supporting them in the things they do. However, I did not expect to be thrust into high-school again - where girls are secretive, superficial ("hot list", anyone?), deceptive, temperamental... and I couldn't walk away like I usually do. In that way, I feel that I am not an appropriate senior companion: I'm just not that hyper-social person that most girls are and/or want to be. The most shocking thing (though I suppose I should have expected it), was my camper's argumentative and defiant attitude towards me (and no-one else). I suppose I became some sort of parental figure and therefore someone to be disposed of at every chance. I suppose I wasn't completely angelic towards my parents when I was 13/14 (I think I was very irritable, moody and thought my parents didn't know anything), but I hope I didn't negate everything they said, nor reject them in petty/hurtful ways. I suppose I did. But at least I wasn't superficial, discriminatory nor deceptive. God, I do apologise to my parents. It must have been awful. In my defence, I had convinced myself they didn't love me (don't ask, I don't know). Anyway, it was tiring to (a) feel alienation like that again and (b) keep trying to please while being repeatedly rejected. You'd think I'd be used to feeling alienated and rejected. Ironic. It was interesting though, to get into the minds of this range of teenage girls (and companions to some extent), since I seem to have completely foregone that stage. That's the thing, you see - I don't judge it all. It's probably a fundamental part of the emotional and social maturation. I really missed the children and the noise today. I love how at camp, you can look up at any moment and see an adult entertaining a child and the child filled with glee. I managed to have a few good conversations with some of the other companions and one of the campers (who was older and was beginning to take an interest in philosophical thoughts - that's a domain I'm comfortable in, yo :P). I also really enjoyed observing a young girl who had DS. I had looked after her before and still find her fascinating. I don't know if she recognised me this camp, but she likes to stare at me - I wonder what she is thinking? She actually learns very quickly and understands instructions if given in a clear and concise way. She has ways of communicating with herself that are evident if you watch closely. For example, one afternoon she had a sheet of Sponge Bob stickers. After giving one sticker to each of her companions, she set about going through each sticker, imitating each cartoon character - she seemed fully entertained and quite aware that nobody else was playing with her, as if she was used to making up and playing her own game. She did not even notice when I imitated her from across the table (most other kids do, as they usually look up to see who is watching them). After that game, she then began to count the rows of stickers. At first, I thought she was only counting the sets of four, but then realised that she actually counted up to 15 (all of the stickers). I don't even know if that is amazing for her or not, but it certainly amazed me.One thing I found a bit disconcerting was the number of people trying to "pick up" at camp. I mean, it's actually a bit embarrassing to have to think of reasons to escape the "conversation" and especially when other companions/campers notice something odd going on. What a hassle that was, especially when you know the pursuer in question is actually just fishing. I'm glad that MC highlighted for me the difference between flattery and compliments. But on the other hand, I loved seeing the dedication of some of the other companions, especially those veterans who had been there for a few camps and don't even give a second's thought to the good they are doing. They are habituated good-doers. What an outstanding state of being. When they are acknowledged, they shed a rare tear, as if they are surprised at their own capabilities and achievements. Amazing. I think it's funny that SS joked (?) that I am never impressed, when in actual fact, people/things are making impressions on me continuously. But I'm like a black hole, it's hard to see into me. I think those guys think I'm emotionless (and a myriad of other derogatory terms), which may be true, I'm not sure. I just remind myself that this is my PhD self... they have never seen me in any other way. |
Overview I don't know who I can trust anymore. There are many people around and yet I feel like there is no-one to talk to. It's weird, eh. I feel like I should learn to get through all of these moods on my own, because people always seem to leave in the end. But I want 2010 to be an awesome year! I am inspired by the many talented and warm-hearted children I've seen in the past week. And I'm still going to trust, because someone has to give - it might as well be me. I have to trust my instincts more, because I always seem to find out (even if much later) that they had been right all along. |
