So recently I’ve been thinking about the sociopathic traits that I seem to have. I have noticed since childhood that I tend to be a bit reckless and fearless. I’m not bragging it’s just that I was prone to taking risk. When I was a toddler I had a habit of leaving our apartment and running off to some random location and not knowing how to get back. It’s amazing I wasn’t abducted.
I don’t think I am a sociopath though, it’s not likely since I work so hard to consider my impact on others, and I am certainly moved by the suffering of others. This is often used as a weapon against me and when people manipulate me they say, “You are being so inconsiderate to how you hurt others.” It does seem that manipulation reveals the opposite of the truth.
When I was in highschool I had a real problem with teachers and that was because I was bullied by a male teacher in 7th and 8th grade. That led me to not only distrust teachers and find them to be jerks who just like to push kids around to make themselves feel good, but to develop my own mind and decide for myself what is right and wrong. Too bad I wasn’t always right.
In 9th grade I was labeled an at risk student, which was silly because I took so much crap and turned the other cheek so much. They decided I was a juvenile delinquent and tried to prove it to me by how much they’d punish me. When I tried to explain my side, they wouldn’t listen and I guess they’ll teach me a “lesson.”
When I was in 11th grade I had already developed my own mind apart from the authority and was a free agent. That led to a scenario where I was dismayed by the blatant abuse I saw.
I was a clarinetist in HS band. I wore the green uniform which I thought was dorky and despised. It was a pioneer outfit with tricornered hats. On this one particular day it was homecoming and I was angry with the football team.
The background was that the stands were condemned. Their solution was to take all the foldable stands they had and put the spectators on that, and give the band the rotten cheap stands which soaked up water. Their clever idea was to put the stands behind the goalpost, right in obvious trajectory of a successful kick.
I decided a compromise was in order, since those footb~~~~ are dangerous, but this is their arrangement: I thought they should not practice at that goal but only kick during the game. If a football strikes a bandmember, it can damage the instrument (which or expensive) or injure a student. These are my classmates so I’m a bit peeved right now.
During warmup for the game, these jerk players kick their footb~~~~ at our band. We’re assembled and it’s obvious the boys are taking advantage of their opportunity to bully around the band members. This angers me. A football flies at us but it misses. I speak to myself outloud about my plan, and a clarinetist girl urges me not to do anything.
Another flies, my conscious starts to beat me up saying, “What are you doing sitting there? You see what they’re doing and they have no excuse. Do the right thing and talk to the coach about their abuse.” A third football flies at us and I decide it’s time. I cannot hold back any further.
I place my clarinet beside me and the girl let’s me go without saying word. I can’t see the coach but I have my diplomacy on, so I ask a football player where the coach is. They tell me but warm me about him. I figured that he has no authority over me in that sense but that with my diplomacy he’ll not be put on defense, but rather be curious to listen, see what’s happening and make a correction. That’s what a reasonable person would do, or so I thought, and this coach has been reasonable to me before this. Besides, I am doing the right thing, they’re just cowardly boys who do what their told. Should they have a conscience, they’d see the abuse of the footb~~~~ and say something.
I approach the coach. I immediately start off with my diplomacy which blatantly fails. Calling him sir and bringing up the issue was not the correct approach it seems. He immediately turned and gave me crap. I was astonished by how much of a jerk he was. He didn’t listen at all but turned to me to revile me. Realizing that this was certainly not going to work, he’s just a loser, I turned immediately to leave.
He then said to me sternly that if I should choose to turn to him and fight he’s going to really start in on my “ass.” I can’t remember but he related it to not getting off of his field immediately (he’s a coach and I’m a student, he’s a bitch, not a king). I have a policy of not letting others control me through threats, a policy which works, but this caused my feet to stand firmly.
I was just p~~~ed. This man is nasty and now he wants to fight. He pawned this just to cause a confrontation because he wants to get angry. The cruelty of this simp… it’s unthinkable but here I am unable to realize it.
Feet frozen in place, I had a problem: should I continue to walk it would appear submissive and give him control, but should I turn to fight he’d win since he then holds all the cards. My brain wasn’t the least bit bothered for it had a solution.
I pursed my lips, turned my head around slowly over my shoulder. I glared at him, my eyes focused directly on his. He remained silent, staring, wide eyed.
Realizing his mouth was now sealed shut, I turned to face my direction, the direction of my feet as remained the time since I decided to leave. I decided to cross directly the field to my position since walking immediately off the field makes him see that I am submissive but walking directly puts a claim of territory.
All the football players stared at me, the ones who witness the confrontation, as I walked gingerly to my place, not too fast to show I’m scared, and not too slow to let proving a point control me.
RoyDal 4 years, 8 months ago.
