I ended that last post without really explaining the thesis, didn’t I.
My point was that these things:
1. The authority-figures-dealing-with-kids dynamic of “Why did you do that? Why did you do that potentially dangerous thing? Why did you break the rules? Why didn’t you do your homework?”
2. My various difficulties putting my thoughts into words
3. The times when I more-or-less managed to explain myself and knew that my explanation did not explain anything, it only made me sound stupid and/or crazy
contributed to me feeling really inadequate and ashamed of myself, even though those questions were well-intended.
Related rambling below the cut. (Sparkly, maybe don’t read this.)
This ties into the imagination thing, (the parts of it that I haven’t really discussed yet, oops) because a lot of those things that I felt so bad about saying out loud? They really weren’t unusual thought processes, especially considering how old I was.
Kids get carried away with imaginary games. Kids do things without thinking through the consequences. Kids have limited background knowledge in which to place new things, and sometimes misunderstand things by mistaking them for something familiar.
Adults do these things too, if maybe less often.
But we don’t like to talk about them. They’re unsightly. We don’t like to think about how weird and unreliable our minds can be, how badly we can misunderstand things. And showing too much of our imaginary lives to other people who don’t want to be involved, or pushing others to play along with them, can be… I don’t know. Scary. Coercive. Overly intimate. Harmful.
This is a thing that I feel, anyway. I think I felt so harshly towards my silly ideas because I was aware of the above paragraph. And it boiled down in my mind, with help from various other negative reactions, to “people don’t want to see you being weird”.