I Want To Write My Random Thoughts And Feelings
I went along with a friend to attend performances that a few of her students were putting on as part of their drama class assignment.
The themes were all around social issues, like people with disabilities, bullying, abuse, etc.
The first one I saw was poorly done, and I kept spacing out. I was expecting the other plays to be of the same caliber. Maybe it was because of this that I was unprepared.
The next performance was around domestic abuse. It wasn't as if I could relate to everything in that performance.
But when the guy who played the father started yelling, I was catapulted to the past.
I couldn't stop the tears. It was all too familiar, all of it. The fear and anxiety, always wanting to be perfect, to please, and wondering why it was never enough. Wondering what I could've done better to avoid being yelled at and called names.
The words he yelled stung so much, because I have been called those names too.
Everytime I think that I've let go of the past, I realize that it still haunts me. And I don't think that I can escape it.
There was another girl sitting behind me who I think was crying as well... and I wondered if she was feeling the same things that I was.
Feeling how familiar it was... how the dramatics were at one point real to the both of us.
The themes were all around social issues, like people with disabilities, bullying, abuse, etc.
The first one I saw was poorly done, and I kept spacing out. I was expecting the other plays to be of the same caliber. Maybe it was because of this that I was unprepared.
The next performance was around domestic abuse. It wasn't as if I could relate to everything in that performance.
But when the guy who played the father started yelling, I was catapulted to the past.
I couldn't stop the tears. It was all too familiar, all of it. The fear and anxiety, always wanting to be perfect, to please, and wondering why it was never enough. Wondering what I could've done better to avoid being yelled at and called names.
The words he yelled stung so much, because I have been called those names too.
Everytime I think that I've let go of the past, I realize that it still haunts me. And I don't think that I can escape it.
There was another girl sitting behind me who I think was crying as well... and I wondered if she was feeling the same things that I was.
Feeling how familiar it was... how the dramatics were at one point real to the both of us.
