When the World Throws Sh*t at You
Lately, the world’s been throwing shit at me. Now, don’t get me wrong. Nothing huge happened. I didn’t lose a loved one, nor did I suddenly incur a life-threatening malady. No, it’s all the small-little-things-that-shouldn’t-matter-but-they-somehow-always-manage-to that have been bombarding me. Those tiny pellets that the world shoots at you; they just graze enough to hurt, to annoy, and to make you wallow in self pity. You don’t realize it, but somehow they sneak up behind you in a hulking, precarious avalanche – ready to bury you in any second. All it needs, all it thirsts for is that slight, slight wisp of wind that hardly ever comes…
When I think back, it probably started with the breakout. For all my fellow specimen with perfect, flawless skin, I sincerely envy you. For the rest, anyone who spends hours staring at the mirror with your eyebrows crinkled in the middle, you have my empathy. Now, normally, after a breakout, I don’t savagely pull my hair out and curse those evil, red pustules. However, it’s a different story when you push your foot into that cool, air conditioned place that promises to fix every blemish (a.k.a. skin care clinic). Not only do I spend both my time and money, but I also clench my jaw and endure a procedure so terrible and painful even the Rock* would blink a tear.
I’ll describe that process.The esthetician* carefully cleans my skin and then uses her sharp, circular tool to jam it down a pimple for the satisfaction of blood and white pus. For some who still can’t quite visualize, allow me to share a lame joke: Remember that crazy girl in Black Swan* who stabs holes in her face with a knife? Yeah…I kinda understand how she feels.
But the worst part of it all is that sinking, creeping doubt that slides into your defenseless brain and taunts, “Did you actually think professional help would get rid of me? I’ve been around for seven years now! Think again, you and I are going to be best friends forever [inject evil laughter]!” Yes, that’s where the crappy feeling originated from.
But what really amplified that crappy feeling was that even crappier scholarship. I suppose to fully hook you into my black hole of despair and plot complications, I should probably provide some background info. My twin and I have recently received the pleasure of admittance to a dream college of ours – quite renowned and famous. Okay, so that’s where I fade out. My twin continued on to also receive a quite renowned and famous scholarship. Although I did not have the same honor, I disregarded the lost opportunity and applied to a scholarship of lesser value (hey, it’s free money). On the D-day, however, I expressed neither elation nor disappointment. The website was not updated, no congratulating announcement plagued the newspaper, no foreign phone number bothered to call me, and no one won any money at all. Trust me, I am just as confused.
People exclaim all the time: you’re so lucky to have a twin. I am, this I freely admit, but not all the time. Especially not when she nabs a scholarship and earns her place among the family. And not when she drives with ease when all I hear is my father yelling at me to use my god-damn blinker while the car behind speeds up only to give me The Dirty Look*.
Please don’t misunderstand. She’s my best friend. But she’s also my biggest competitor. That’s a fact we both don’t bother ignoring. We’re fair yet sneaky – a natural occurrence from sharing the spotlight since the beginning.
But all this so far is just the pellets grazing my fractured skin, leaving a faintly bloody trail. They pass unnoticed, building into that dangerous avalanche. That slight, slight wisp shudders by the moment I open my favorite website: YWS. I’m sure everyone relates to that nervous excitement when you see “Notifications (1)” on the top of your screen. Well, so did I, for a while at least.
I mean, sure, the comment was rude. But that wasn’t what surprised me (it’s called cyber bullying). What surprised me was that it lay there, underneath my story on my favorite website. Because YWS isn’t just a website to me, it retains a deeper meaning. It’s that place where everything just clicks, where people feel and write like I do, seek to inspire and be inspired like I do. Where all across the world people connect through that special bond of staring dreamily at nothing, and in the next instant, we’re pushing the lead furiously against any available scrap of paper.
And though I enjoy embellishing my gifts and avoid acknowledging my short-comings, I shall honestly say I sat there fuming like a three year old, beating my anger into that shapeless, white concoction of protein. Also called an Egg Facial Mask. The soothing pattern of whipping the egg whites into a frothy, foamy substance allowed me to think rationally. I decided that if the world threw shit at me, well, I’d just beat the load of it into this Egg Facial.
Yes, the comment may have been well deserved. But not in that disrespectful manner. Not in that condescending, immature manner. And yes, I may have written a confusing, misconstrued, mistaken, and pretentious piece far beyond my miserable capabilities. But, and I say this in the most solemn and quietest voice, at least I tried. At least I leaped out of my comfort zone and strove to reach for that epiphany far more advanced and less recognized. And though some may consider it a failure, at least I believe that story to be a step in the right direction.
I have learned from The Egg Facial* that anger management is such a mystifying and personal experience. It pinches and curls in your stomach until you release the raw emotion in a positive way. So what if I struggled in a long battle with acne? Grow up, other people – some even more severe than yourself – do it bravely every day. So what if you didn’t get a lousy scholarship? You’re going to the college of your dreams, moron! So what if your twin seems to best you in every, insignificant matter? At least she puts up and encourages you with your crapped up writing! So what if someone didn’t like your work and wrote something rude? At least you got the chance to act just as rude and immature! (J.K.) At least he commented.
Let’s face it, the world may have thrown shit at me lately, but it does that to everyone. The world will throw shit at you, put you down, and make you feel small whenever it can. But only if you let it. It’s really that simple. Here’s what I say.
Pick up the smelly and dirty turd, the feces, the shit around you, and THROW IT BACK!
*The Rock: A pro-wrestler turned actor.
*esthetician: Someone who is trained to administer facials.
*Black Swan: A 2010 film I would not suggest you watch with your boyfriend or parents.
*The Dirty Look: It should look something like this -_-, but more intense.
*The Egg Facial: A fascinating anger management mechanism that also helps exfoliate and tighten pores.
