“Do as you are told!”,
“Don’t make a fuss!”,
“Don’t do that!”
The list could continue on and on, the barked orders, the harsh tone, the limits and restrictions placed on an eager young mind, keen to explore the World, confused at not being allowed to, bound by rules that seemed to make no sense! It is one thing to have the rules explained, to know why something must be so, he made rules all the time, thinking through a series of options and decision in his head to find a safe route from point A to point B, extrapolating from previous experience, modifying and adapting existing rules, constructing new ones where necessary, every move mapped out with the precision of a chess game between grand masters. When he created the rules himself they made sense and felt safe and gave him the security he needed. When the rules were imposed from outside they didn’t and so he broke them, over and over again, dischord and rebellion the only recourse for a mind that was impossible to limit, a mind that raced every minute of every hour of every day, a mind that never stopped, never rested.
He had tried many times to explain how his mind worked, what he needed, how he liked to order things so that they made sense, so that they were logical. He tried to open up to people about how he felt but the words never seemed to fit in their heads, never seemed to help them understand. So, they kept making rules and he kept breaking them, he kept making his own rules and they didn’t suit other people, the frustration built and over time turned to anger, the anger turning to rage, the rage eventually turned inwards, becoming a simmering self loathing, an understanding that it must be him who was wrong, that everyone else seemed to get it, that everyone else could cope with society and its stupid rules that made no sense, that it must be him who couldn’t cope, who wasn’t nice, who made mistakes….that he would never, could never be a good boy….