Ran into someone from school yesterday. It wasn’t someone I used to hang out with much, and not someone I’ve been in contact with since (not that there are many), and other than running in to each other very occasionally, we probably don’t know anything about each other. Expecting a second child, she and her (I guess) husband had settled in a house in a suburb. I continue to be amazed at how life runs away with people. It’s entirely surprising to me, this willingness to adapt to the contingencies of life — this ability to do what’s expected, to be able to mould yourself to fit the average transactions of human existance. To recast yourself to the demands put upon you by society and by family life.

All while I exist in some parallel universe of perpetual teenage angst and confusion. So, I guess, the question is — how do people do it? How come they even want it? How do they cope with order, organization, responsibility? On second thought… perhaps it’s not for me to know.

I don’t get it. I don’t. I feel like I’m the only one left on planet Abnormal while everyone else got on the train to the land of Ordinary. I guess they were never on the same planet as me anyway, and that it’s simply becoming all too apparent that they weren’t. I’m still stuck asking myself, and an unresponsive world, what this growing up is going to mean on a personal level. All that happens is that the divide between me and normal adult life is getting increasingly vast, until I don’t know what it is I’m watching on the other side — real humans or some exotic life-form?

Everybody grows up to push prams. Even boys grow up to push prams these days.

I see more and more the allure of fiction. Maybe fiction is the only place left for someone like me — left free from invasions of normalcy, left free from the lifestyles of those humanoid aliens that you encounter in this very real city. Today: heavy rains and thunder.


4 thoughts on “fiction

  1. I’m not trying to succeed with anything. Not living family life is not a question of (political) opposition.

    If you are who I think you are I’d say your chances of succeeding getting comments through here are pretty slim, though. Not to say non-existent.

  2. Hi Alicia,

    I have no idea what the previous poster is getting at with the German AFO and APO but interestingly enough, the acronym is close to what I am posting for you now — ODD. (The O for Opposition is the same in both.)

    And to get the pun out of the way first, the reason you feel yourself to be so “odd” is that you exhibit the classic symptomatology of ODD = Oppositional Defiant Disorder
    Read the Wiki about it for your childhood and the next link for adulthood.

    Common features of Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD) include excessive, often persistent anger, frequent temper tantrums or angry outbursts, and disregard for authority. Children and adolescents with this disorder often annoy others on purpose, blame others for their mistakes, and are easily annoyed. Parents often observe more rigid and defiant behaviors than in siblings.[1] In addition, these young people may appear resentful of others and when someone does something they don’t like they often take revenge on them.[2]

    In order for a child or adolescent to qualify for a diagnosis of ODD these behaviors must cause considerable distress for the family and/or interfere significantly with academic or social functioning. Interference might take the form of preventing the child or adolescent from learning school material or making friends, or placing him or her in harmful situations. These behaviors must also persist for at least six months.
    Adults with ODD/CD tend to have destructive personalities, including the inability to get along well with others and falling into trouble often. On the other hand, some may exhibit very reclusive and withdrawn personalities.

    While most adults with ODD grow up to act out their aggression (CD = Conduct Disorder), thank Dog that you, with the help of your delightful melancholic temperament have become reclusive and withdrawn, having transformed your childhood ODD into an admirable career in heartfelt writing. I would think that the only difference between you now and in childhood is that you don’t throw near as many tantrums now as you did back then.

  3. I just love the oppositional defiant disorder — it’s the funniest disorder of all disorders!

    Anyway, I’m not so sure about the tantrums. When I was a child, there was no internet to take the tantrums to. You had to yell at mum.

    As a side-note, I have no idea what the previous poster was really getting at either, but since I thought I knew who it was, I also thought I’d better not ask. Well, it’s what I thought.

Comments are closed.