#idk maybe at first had parents disapproving of Horror For Kids. for some reason i assumed i wasn't Allowed to check them out via library too

[unproduciblesmackdown]

fr brian is so funny for his whole deal being like remarkable nervousness & that he ends up dragged along with the two jokes pranks horror drama menaces that are brooke & zeke who are ricocheting around while brian is head in hands bringing the “pleeease let this be a normal field trip.” and of course shoutout to how every character has their own unbroken chaos going on, brooke & zeke especially, not only their Both pulling antics & liking to joke around & indulge in horror but like, that they do also have this constant siblingesque tendency in their dynamic to like on a dime go into [throwing a notebook at the other’s head flipping them off kicking biting] teasing to exasperated mode for a whole ten seconds before then both immediately being back on task, regular mode, like And Anyways. & brian naturally does not jump right into this sort of rapport, but shoutout to his like natural beleagueredness allowing him to still occupy a niche here & be outright going Oh No with brooke about zeke Getting A Zeke Idea. everyone’s trading off in being the most elevated person in any given moment is fun, this is just How It Is, and i really enjoy again how scenes operate where like, again, everyone has their own thread of chaos consistently winding (or unraveling. whichever you want) and the way the writing jumps between these simultaneous & overlapping goings on and the characters naturally do as well is lively & humorous. i also love this scene where brooke & zeke are both ruminating hard but somewhat separately despite having an exchange, while brian enters just fully preoccupied with the trial of having paint on himself & his just openly inserting himself into this exchange by being like do you think it’s permanent :( and that despite zeke likewise being so preoccupied as to miss an entire remark of brooke’s or else simply fail to give any response indicating otherwise, he happens to immediately reply to brian’s paint tragedy on its terms. that tina then comes by and has half her understudy buddy moment (she also actually calls brooke in another scene) with some pointed critical remarks towards brooke, only for brian to Also just totally in stride ask her about the paint, to which she also gives a seemingly earnest & matter of fact response about it lmao. and brian just being so absolutely beset by things like getting paint on himself, and the way the books are written with the vivacious characters & inherent comedic type framework alongside the horror and the humorous voice of the actual author coming through in addition to the pov narration involving bonus funny asides about everything all really gets me, and brian being a ghost also and knowing it and being so down to earth like, this play sabotage mystery is also entirely relevant to him, all the more so as the person who exists for this role very literally, and he’s just totally consumed by being bothered by getting paint on himself and worrying about it. it keeps Especially making me laugh like getting a bit teared up about it, but i think the entire book is Like That in both the very dry inherent humor and how these tiny moments of idiosyncratic flair that Could be stripped out are not, and there’s all these little momentary two line aside exchanges or internal remarks that add some damn texture and give everyone both more Character and Presence and sort of unfiltered “i’m like eleven”ness than if everyone was always sitting quietly while the Important part of a scene unfolds uninterrupted, but instead everyone can both be very absorbed with different things while also being able to spontaneously bounce off of someone else’s preoccupation for a moment. and things are just fun and funny. and i suspect that say, having been a theatre & horror appreciating oft intensely preoccupied but also bound to spontaneously ricochet off of goings on kid, i enjoy everyone bringing that energy here lmao. but i also enjoyed goosebumps books as a kid & i had a whole kick out of reading this one now, in a straightforward way even though i hardly could have the straightforward [i’m reading this as an elementary schooler] style of experience. you go r.l. stine. i could not give a single direct quote from the “the ghost next door” book but i’m already humored by the entire back and forth that is the narrator again befriending this new guy but she suspects something’s up with him such as that he might be the ghost next door, while he keeps being all the more suspicious in turn when she’s most suspicious, just this back and forth of it. and it’s again all the funnier that in fact the narrator is the ghost, unknowingly this time. and there’s also like this shadow self who keeps lurking ominously & perhaps tries to kill the friend to take his place in the living world or something and i remember that in fact coming across as ominous and intense when eleven. but it’s also intense anyways b/c our narrator unknownst to herself and thus us did in fact die partway through. like, brian only tried to take someone’s place in a living world theatrical production, at least, however he has to keep falling to his doom, sorry man. he’s fine though i guess. and in the meantime he was like oh my godddd paint on my clothes oh my god why do i let you two drag me into scary situations i don’t like horror we’re gonna get in trouble stop talking about ghosts aaaagh. and then he gamely goes along anyways despite needing to complain, thank you hero. bolstering everyone else’s nerves b/c they’re trying to cheer you up

[vitos-ordination-song]

i look back on horror at who i was as a child a lot bc it was bad and i did bad things. but just now i felt kind of fond of little me and proud. bc i did survive and i was smart. 

i got sparked thinking about this bc i was thinking back to being really little. really little, potty training and earliest memories. i was so motivated to be perfect and actually i was good at getting approval. it’s sad bc thats what shaped the bad part of me. at this deep level i learned i did not want to be punished or disapproved of and so i tried to distance myself from my brothers who were punished and compared negatively to me. 

it’s weird bc for so long i felt shame about this. when i was in high school i apologized to my brothers in tears bc theyd often been resentful of me when we were young and i felt guilty for being the baby who got away with things while they were punished. from like age 2 to age maybe 10 i had a p bad superiority complex borne out of this and i just felt like a bad person for it for a long time. plus i didnt fully break out of the mindset til i let go of inferiority/superiority. 

i do see that i was just a child but thats kinda the part that feels like a horror movie. if i think of it being a child who was in situations i was and doing things i did, it feels horrifying. so most of my thinking back on being a kid are kinda disturbing. 

but im kinda getting back in touch w the part of myself i love for the past few years. and you know i survived for a reason. bc i love life and there are parts of me that are strong. what i was thinking about that started all of this was the kind of two-sided split nature of my childhood. what actual form did it take. 

i was absolutely obsessive about adult approval. to a degree that was v annoying to other kids but worked. i didnt necessarily SHOW that i was obsessed w it and i dont think i was even thinking consciously about it. a lot of my memories go in this vein. like i was good at memorizing bc that was asked of me. i could intense laser focus on things and memorize them. i remember frantically memorizing Bible verses at age 5 to win the Bible verse memorizing competition which the adults put on.

all of my strengths i had to be best in and all of my weaknesses were sources of shame i tried to improve on. i took very seriously morality as it was taught to me and made a great show of following it. i was often what you could consider teachers pet and basked in any positive reinforcement thrown my way. 

i was addicted to avoiding punishment and seeking reward. it was a response to my highly behaviorist, authoritarian upbringing. my emotional state in relationship with adults could vary wildly depending on how they treated me. i had a teacher in fourth grade who seemed to dislike and undermine me, like she wanted to break me, and i internalized my idea of her to help shape myself into someone who she would like. and it mostly worked. 

the intensity of my ability to do stuff like this cannot be understated. i learned to totally supress my sensory problems because they made adults annoyed with me and might lead to punishment (also i had to learn to deal with them alone because i had no help). i learned how to present a certain type of acceptable personality. 

i should note that i learned to do this first because of my parents. i learned later, but very young, that i had been easy to potty train. i was often praised both for being intelligent but especially for being “easy” and obidient. the perfect child. as compared to my brothers who wet the bed and had to be punished for it. ive thought for a while that the reason i was so obsessed with being perfect in school is that my mother homeschooled me and my brother for kintergarden. she screamed at him for being stupid. never me. 

being better was being safe. so i became this person who had to follow all the rules and be best at everything and i always wanted to be assured that i had earned love by my behavior. 

but the oddest thing about this is that i was a totally anti-authority, rebellious, and single-minded child. this is how the split in my personality manifested when i was little. any time i sensed any kind of unfairness i was livid. i undermined authority figures behind their backs with other kids. i got around rules however i could. 

the thing was, i think, even when i was very little, was that i knew it was arbitrary. the authority my parents wielded over me and my siblings was incomprehensible. i couldnt follow it. i just knew that they were in charge so they could do what they wanted. they were inconsistent in their punishments and rewards. sometimes they punished you for nothing and sometimes you got away with doing something actually bad. they weren’t fair. they just made it up as they went along. 

i wanted to do what i wanted to do and really i felt no attachment to their judgment on it--at least this side of me didnt. and it goes back just as far, maybe farther, than the feeling of superiority or desire for approval. i think that came more as i became afraid of punishment. 

i have very young memories of defying my parents authority. i just wanted to get away with it. and i almost always did. 

it’s funny because my entire family has always judged me for that but now i look back with some admiration. i mean i was obsessing with how to get away with things in my youngest memories, like age 3. all throughout my childhood i broke the rules to do what i wanted. 

when i was thinking earlier, what came to me was that i always acted to get approval so that i could get away with things and do what i really wanted to do. my main occupation as a child was reading. i was approved of for it. i read so much! i was such a smart little girl! and i could get away with spending all my time away from people in another world, the world of my books. i was quiet and out of the way so i was a good child. and that was one of the main sources of happiness in my childhood, reading, escaping, learning, being somewhere else. 

i waged a warfare against authority quietly. i learned to give them what they want and then do whatever i wanted when they looked away. i did it all the time. the side of me that wanted approval and the one that wanted freedom were somewhat dissociated so i didnt even fully realize i was doing it. 

i think what caused a lot of the change was falling from grace. in my own eyes, in my projected, perceived vision of God, and in the eyes of adults. it happened around age 10 and 11. i went from a very high to very low opinion of myself quickly. i think some of it was having a teacher who simply did not and would not like me, who wanted me to be smaller. she didnt like that i was disorganized and said i had terrible handwriting. she wasnt cruel but she wanted to destroy me for my own good. she constantly put me down and made me a subject of ridicule in class. 

i was also thinking more about Christian morality. the more i learned about God and heard about sin the more i felt i was a sinner. i felt bare and stripped naked, disgusting before God. 

i had humbling experience after humbling experience--internally as i reflected on my behavior and externally though rejection by peers, failure in school, and adult disapproval. it wasnt possible for me to feel approved of, perfect anymore. i could only be bad. 

i kept going further and further with this until i was reborn and rejected all of it. i stopped being Christian and rejected God’s authority. Christianity was the only worldview i had ever been allowed to imagine. once i stopped believing in it i was separate from every person around me. i could not, as a human being, have anyone’s approval. 

i wasnt the golden child at school or at home any more. i started getting in trouble in ways i never would have before because i was more defiant openly. a teacher took my kindle from me in 8th grade and i was punished for stealing it back. i had used to never talk back to my parents but i started to. i was angry. the dynamics in my family shifted and sometimes i was the scapegoat, sometimes i was the one being screamed at, punished, hit the most. me and my siblings played hot potato for it. golden child shifted around too. but i would never be the favorite again. by the time my parents went back to fawning on me, when i was a successful college student, i had no taste for it. 

starting around age 13. i had to become my own internal source of approval, authority, and being. i started to parent myself. i developed an internal parent who nurtured me and i sought out a lot of media about good and loving parents. i cried alone all the time but when i was calming down, i would stroke my own hair and talk to myself. i thought for myself and made up my mind about things. i had my own internal sense of morality that wasnt based on punishment and rewards. that made me a better person. before i had broken any rule with no guilt. i did not consider right and wrong of the action, only likelihood of punishment or reward. when i was giving myself approval, /i/ had to approve of my actions. 

idk ive just rambled a lot but i guess ive been thinking tonight about how ive reacted to environments and how ive changed myself as a person. i have these moments, shorter periods in my life, where something totally shifts in me. but that doesnt make long term effects just go away. i still worry about approval and punishment. i still punish and reward myself. these things are ground into me. inferiority/superiority too. but i saw through them and i have changed.