Help, help, I shouted within myself but no sound was coming out, it was too ashaming searching help, longing for someone to talk to in this area of studying, learning, trying to become professionals. Shame, head deep down, don´t let someone see into your eyes, looking for something what perhaps nowhere exists.
"Come on, don´t sit in this room, let´s go and have a coffee at `Barn´s', it´s just the right time, isn´t it?" She was surprised, I could see it, she tried to find words to handle the situation, I knew it would be too much for her. "No no nothing else to say, just come with me." Too perplexed to escape she went with me, no question, no comment till we had taken our places and were drinking our coffee. So I was able to look into her inner. It was frightening and painful.
He asked me what´s going on, why I felt like jumping out of the window and definitively made an end. How could he know? Was it written in my eyes? Didn´t I control myself enough so that this thought could slip out? There were so many things I wanted to say, a lot of questions I never was able to discuss with someone but still there was a barrier I wasn´t able to jump over.
"You are surprised?" I´m your teacher since you came to this school, 3 years already, that´s a long time not only to find out about the skills and knowledge of my students but also about personality and character. And to say something privat, you´re in disharmony with yourself." "How can you know that?" It wasn´t only surprise but feeling catched in her voice as if I had found out a crime. "I´ve seen the cuts on your arm, no satisfied person would do a thing like that to herself." "That was at the beginning of the time here. It could have been an accident or from another person." She tried to stay polite and calm, but her voice was trembling of hate and anger. "Yes, yes, only at the beginning you wore summershirts, there were no acute cuts you had to hide."
How did he know about, how was he able to know about her selfhate and her way to punish herself, the only way not to commit suicide when hate and selfdenial overwhelmed her. She always had thought she could manage that nobody would notice but...
"There´s no other person who knows about." "How can you be sure?" "Well, you are playing your role of an interested and hardworking student perfect. There´s no doubt that my collegues only see a friendly girl, perhaps a little timide and quiet but 'normal' as they would say." After this remark she had thrown all barriers and skruples away and talked without hesitation: about selfhate, looking for her way, trying to like what she had to do, her loosed god, her struggle for efficiency, the only way to become accepted, her unability to find friends, her sexual indifference, her only friend who has just madly fallen in love, and everywhere always the role of the listener and watcher for her, always staying outside, having a look on life of others but nothing for herself.
How could he do that, why had I told him all this, feeling relieved but full of shame. He will think I´m a hysterical person which has no idea what real problems are and like a good dramatical performance. Oh, how I hate me, why did I go with him for a coffee?
"Why are you going? Hey, wait a minute, there are no courses in the afternoon, please stay." "Well, I have to go, I´m thankful that you had time for me, but it´s nonsense I´m talking, you´re wasting your freetime, I´m sorry there are much more important things than that." "What´s more important than helping a person to find a way for holding life and herself together? If you like you can come for a coffee whenever you want, you´re welcome." "Thanks a lot."
He is so polite and friendly, sees so clear the problems of others and tries to help, he must be very sensitive and mentally strong, but I´m not sure if he had found his way already. Looking at his vita there are so many different things he had tried and made, just like herself, study this and that, working here and there, doing completely other things for a time, etc. But he always finished what he´d begun, that was the important difference.
Going back to his room he thought about himself in her age, there were many parallels even if she would always just see a teacher in him. A teacher isn´t better than his students only because of his position, he has to struggle for love and friendship like them, for good working results and for finding a sense for his personal life. He also were searching for something what perhaps never exist. Thoughtfully he rubbed over his arm, through the clothes, always correct with shirt, tie and suit, he could feel the cuts.
"Come on, don´t sit in this room, let´s go and have a coffee at `Barn´s', it´s just the right time, isn´t it?" She was surprised, I could see it, she tried to find words to handle the situation, I knew it would be too much for her. "No no nothing else to say, just come with me." Too perplexed to escape she went with me, no question, no comment till we had taken our places and were drinking our coffee. So I was able to look into her inner. It was frightening and painful.
He asked me what´s going on, why I felt like jumping out of the window and definitively made an end. How could he know? Was it written in my eyes? Didn´t I control myself enough so that this thought could slip out? There were so many things I wanted to say, a lot of questions I never was able to discuss with someone but still there was a barrier I wasn´t able to jump over.
"You are surprised?" I´m your teacher since you came to this school, 3 years already, that´s a long time not only to find out about the skills and knowledge of my students but also about personality and character. And to say something privat, you´re in disharmony with yourself." "How can you know that?" It wasn´t only surprise but feeling catched in her voice as if I had found out a crime. "I´ve seen the cuts on your arm, no satisfied person would do a thing like that to herself." "That was at the beginning of the time here. It could have been an accident or from another person." She tried to stay polite and calm, but her voice was trembling of hate and anger. "Yes, yes, only at the beginning you wore summershirts, there were no acute cuts you had to hide."
How did he know about, how was he able to know about her selfhate and her way to punish herself, the only way not to commit suicide when hate and selfdenial overwhelmed her. She always had thought she could manage that nobody would notice but...
"There´s no other person who knows about." "How can you be sure?" "Well, you are playing your role of an interested and hardworking student perfect. There´s no doubt that my collegues only see a friendly girl, perhaps a little timide and quiet but 'normal' as they would say." After this remark she had thrown all barriers and skruples away and talked without hesitation: about selfhate, looking for her way, trying to like what she had to do, her loosed god, her struggle for efficiency, the only way to become accepted, her unability to find friends, her sexual indifference, her only friend who has just madly fallen in love, and everywhere always the role of the listener and watcher for her, always staying outside, having a look on life of others but nothing for herself.
How could he do that, why had I told him all this, feeling relieved but full of shame. He will think I´m a hysterical person which has no idea what real problems are and like a good dramatical performance. Oh, how I hate me, why did I go with him for a coffee?
"Why are you going? Hey, wait a minute, there are no courses in the afternoon, please stay." "Well, I have to go, I´m thankful that you had time for me, but it´s nonsense I´m talking, you´re wasting your freetime, I´m sorry there are much more important things than that." "What´s more important than helping a person to find a way for holding life and herself together? If you like you can come for a coffee whenever you want, you´re welcome." "Thanks a lot."
He is so polite and friendly, sees so clear the problems of others and tries to help, he must be very sensitive and mentally strong, but I´m not sure if he had found his way already. Looking at his vita there are so many different things he had tried and made, just like herself, study this and that, working here and there, doing completely other things for a time, etc. But he always finished what he´d begun, that was the important difference.
Going back to his room he thought about himself in her age, there were many parallels even if she would always just see a teacher in him. A teacher isn´t better than his students only because of his position, he has to struggle for love and friendship like them, for good working results and for finding a sense for his personal life. He also were searching for something what perhaps never exist. Thoughtfully he rubbed over his arm, through the clothes, always correct with shirt, tie and suit, he could feel the cuts.
Eingestellt von inga Am/um
02:16
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