There are a lot of mixed messages pounding in my head about how to deal with emotions. On one hand I’m told not to cry because I’m a boy and need to be strong. On the other hand I’m told not to bottle things up. Most of the time, all I want to do is cry. I want to cry when the line at the bank is too long. I want to cry when one of my sinuses are stuffed up. But I can’t cry. All because of how society will react to my behavior. It’s nuts.
I keep my emotions bottled up for the most part. I don’t like to rub how awesome my day was in the faces of others. I also like to be honest so I have to go out of my way to make sure that I have a bad day. That way everybody wins. I get to remain being honest about how bad my day was and you don’t feel lousy knowing how inexplicably awesome it could have easily been.
The older I get, the more in touch with my emotions I am. I’m not afraid to cry or smile in the faces of strangers. I’m so not afraid of it that I probably do it too often. Which do you think is creepier? The smiling stranger or the crying one? I’d say the smiling one. There are more things to cry about than there are to smile about. I’m much more likely to trust a crier than I am a smiler. People who smile too much are usually brainwashed and may or may not still have their testicles. At least a crier you know their intentions, to bring you down.
The only time one should really always show their emotions is when they are positive emotions. Really, as much as it can be annoying to know about how much more wonderful your life is than mine, it’s still good for you to let it out. If I have a problem with your great life, I will not pay attention to it. Or more likely, I will find a physical flaw of yours and make fun of it. And if you have a problem with that, big ears, you can continue bragging about how wonderful your life is. You have to give a little to get a little.
For negative thoughts I believe more often than not it’s best to keep those deep inside. If I let out everything I thought I would probably be in prison, an insane asylum, or on television. I’m not tough enough for prison, not flexible enough for straight jackets, and don’t tan well enough to be on television. I could always play a ghost or a hermit, but then there’s the fact that I am a terrible actor.
From talking to other people, if I hadn’t kept my emotions bottled up as a teenage boy and instead shared my feelings like I was “supposed to”, I probably would be dead in a murder suicide right now. Being a teenage sucks and the worst thing about it is that it’s impossible to understand that you’re not alone until you get older. Mostly everybody I know had fantasies of blowing things up or stabbing enemies to death with novelty pencils. Teenagers are the most violent human beings, what with raging hormones and the anger at having pubic hair to trim. It’s not good to share your emotions when you’re a teenager. They try to send you to school psychiatrists who forgot what it’s like to feel left out. School psychiatrists are dicks. The moment they send a kid somewhere else for “help” is the same moment they ruin that kid’s self-esteem. And that’s all we’ve got in this world, esteem for ourselves. Once that’s ruined, then we’ve got nothing. Then we really have something to be angry about.
It’s good to be honest about how you feel, but remember, if you think it may make you sound crazy, it probably will. Some things are left unsaid, at least for a while. If you’re reading this and you’re an angry teenager do not fret. Most of those problems that piss you off now will go away. You’ll find new things to get angry about. Instead of being pissed off about what someone said on Facebook you can be pissed off about the realization that you will die alone. Yikes!
Wear your emotions honestly, but don’t be surprised when people think you’re a nutbag. We’re all a little crazy, big deal. But if your emotions involve kidnapping, torture, or murder, wait a few years until you grow out of it. Odds are you’ll find someone else who feels the same way and you’ll both end up in prison for doing something perverted to a mean gym teacher’s buttocks.