Cookies and Capacitors

Immorally justifiable

Sun, Feb 27, 2011 at 1:40PM

At today’s forensics meet (in Sheboygan, home of plate-throwing and rat-stealing music rooms) Dan, Jessica, and I had an enlightening conversation in the chorus room. It served as inspiration for writing this article. Hopefully I can get my problems organized, thus configuring them for repair.

A librarian at my school suggested months ago that I start a blog to write down my ideas and feelings so I could analyze and organize them at a later date. Specifically, she thought I was depressed since I spoke of life and death as meaningless things which one cannot apply value to.

The truth is, I’ve been severely depressed lately, so much that I’ve contemplated suicide…For months now, I have attempted to hide my sadness through dumb-wit and dry humor, enough to give me a chuckle, but that has not worked enough to permanently remedy my very poor attitudes. Why have I been so depressed? Let’s see…

My friends, who were my best friends as long as I can remember, have grown away from me and my interests. No longer do I consider them my friends; instead, they are simply acquaintances and work partners. I do not hang out with them anymore, I hardly speak to them anymore, and Jacob is the only one friendly enough to even say, “Hi,” to me in the hallway. In fact, every time I pass one of them in the hall I die a bit on the inside; they glare at me, then quickly look away to avoid any social contact. None of the others have any idea how shitty and lonely that makes me feel. Our interests have also separated. While they prefer to play Xbox and be antisocial, I would rather be going places and finding the world’s most interesting citizens. They also act extremely immature all the time. I cannot stand them anymore as they upset me too often.

In addition to my ex-friends, college has me worried. I am expected to take a level of higher-education, but how can I do that when the current educational system is corrupted beyond repair? I don’t agree with how education is given, organized, or used. There is no reason in hell I should subject myself to this torture so I can receive a piece of paper that states I am qualified to do a very specific task. Putting a cherry on top, I must pay for this piece of paper with my own dollars. My parents won’t pay a dime for my education: their finances are already tight. Even before, they had pre-decided they shall not pay a dime of their children’s education. My brother Tyler earns swimming scholarships. I have many talents, but none are “valued” enough by common society that organizations will pay me to do it. The world runs on money, but I have no desire for it.

Adding to my previous statements, I usually make hurtful remarks without thinking. Always, I heavily regret them afterwards. For instance, I recently made a remark about my forensics coach behind her back. However, I hadn’t realized that her daughter was in the same room as I and overheard. Before her daughter even spoke to me, I was feeling regretful as I know how difficult it is to be awfully busy, acutely dependable, and doing everything for everyone by a deadline. But already feeling regretful, I must then take a verbal backlash by the daughter. And I deserve it. This makes me more and more angry at myself, almost to the breaking point.

When I actually do things right, one would be amazed at the amount of praise I receive. Never, in my entire life before a year ago, have I been praised for anything so I find it quite exhilarating. However, what I see as exhilarating others see as arrogance, thus giving me a jerk-y image. In school, this spreads rapidly through rumors and gossip and puts me at an unfair standpoint in the eyes of my peers. This image inhibits my social growth, which is the only thing I’m interested in anymore.

I am sick and tired of living in a broken world. Quite honestly, I believe humanity would be better off wired into a collective like the Borg in Star Trek. Nobody has to hurt, people are as disposable as paper, and everyone can share ideas in an instant; but that is science fiction. Unfortunately, I live in an actual world that society tells me I must inhabit. From this, thoughts of suicide spawn daily. Living in this world hurts me and I hurt others, but not living only hurts others. Is it morally justifiable to do either? No. Because I must make an immoral decision, there is no escape without hurt.