I name this blog post Kale because of an incident at dinner. Me and my three friends- Maya, Madeline, and Anjoum- went to get dinner at the dining hall, and as per routine, Maya made her plate of kale with lemon and salt. However, Madeline decided to try her kale this time, and decided she liked it; her own plate ensued. After thirty or so minutes of watching them eat their kale, I wanted my own (naturally), and so three out of the four of us were eating exactly the same thing: a plate of green kale with a lemon zest. Three students, eating sautéed kale in a college dining hall at 9 P.M. on a Tuesday. And this is normal for us. Hence, the title.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the highlight of my day. If it were, I could happily end this post with something like, “My friends and I are nothing short of a subplot in Arrested Development. Goodnight everybody.”; But my life is far more complicated than that. Today, I took it upon me to potentially ruin a fifth relationship this week. Yes, folks, my emotions have gotten so out of control that I’ve successfully pushed away four- potentially five- of my closest friends. And for what reasons, may you ask? Well, most of them are pretty stupid.
I have this tendency to take things out on people when they don’t deserve it. And the thing is, I can’t stop. I feel my sensibility fighting with my mouth to just shut up and think before you speak but the words flow like rapids and cut like blades and suddenly, the whole world is a mess.
And who’s to blame? Well, I am. More specifically, the anxieties that plague my every move, my every conscious breath, are to blame for the tragedies that I cope with. And how can I expect anyone to understand, if even I don’t?
My emotions are like the theory of Evolution. Some think they know all the answers- they know where they stem from, why I’m feeling what I do, how to fix it. “It’s just hormones”, or, “You’ve got anxiety. These meds will make you feel better.” Others have no idea what I’m thinking or undergoing and they don’t pretend to. “I can’t understand what you’re going through”, they say, before they turn their backs to me for the last time and walk the path that so many before have taken. They’re scared. They walk away. Or they pretend to understand.