I'm insane. I'm childish. I'm mad. I'm depressed. I'm a joy. I'm optimistic. I'm sarcastic. I'm narssistic. I'm pessimistic. I'm everything I am not and everything I am.
I need people to stop driving me mad. They need to just shut up. Just open their eyes. Just stop talking. Stop being such a fool. And stop thinking they're always right.
I don't need people to put me down. I don't need the extra attention. I don't need reminders. I don't need senseless words. I just need to be understood. To be appreciated.
That's all I want.
I hate it when people ignore me. I hate it when they get mad. I hate it more when I don't know why they're mad at me. I detest the feeling of feeling small and vulnerable. I don't like to whine and use cute words just to ask for forgiveness. I don't like being the one who always gives in. I don't want to give in when I don't think I'm in the wrong. I hate it when people try to tell me what to do. I hate it when my actions and words are being restricted.
I hate it that I have to pretend to be okay when all I wanted to do was to sulk and mope around. I hate it when I smile so easily when I'm mad. I hate it when they think everything's okay just because I stopped looking angry. I hate it when I actually care.
The people who drive me nuts are no good for me. Yet, they are those who I care about most. This is unfair. I want to drive them crazy as much as they do to me. I want them to suffer and feel what I'm feeling.
I'm not obliged to anything I don't want to do or feel. And it shall remain this way.
I just hope that they'll understand me and stop driving me crazy.
I'm insane enough. I just wanna be myself.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Saturday, December 6, 2014
For the first time in forever~
Why that title?
Hah. I'm just excited. And it's not even about me /inserts nonstop giggles
My bestie is finally living life as a normal girl. Yes, dating and flirting, all that stuff. I think I'm more excited than her. Glad she met a great guy. Well, he seems like a pretty good guy as far. I only know him for a day anyway. Don't judge, Trecia. No judging, yet. /insert more giggles.
AFA 2014 is tomorrow and I have business law tutorial first thing in the morning. I feel like skipping... but no. I shall be a diligent student. Actually, I'm more scared that I don't understand the concept cause in university, you're left alone to die unless you make some pretty smart friends. Yeah.
So, no skipping of classes unless I want to fail. Hnn. I'm worried for my assignment grades. Didn't think I did too well. Maybe I'll only get a credit... Well... There goes my hopes for the Dean's list. Distinction all the way~ hopefully.
Back to my bestie story... Can't reveal anything here. So... /giggles. Yeah. That's all I can do.
Okay, I got distracted. Got to sleep now.
Good night~!
^.^
Hah. I'm just excited. And it's not even about me /inserts nonstop giggles
My bestie is finally living life as a normal girl. Yes, dating and flirting, all that stuff. I think I'm more excited than her. Glad she met a great guy. Well, he seems like a pretty good guy as far. I only know him for a day anyway. Don't judge, Trecia. No judging, yet. /insert more giggles.
AFA 2014 is tomorrow and I have business law tutorial first thing in the morning. I feel like skipping... but no. I shall be a diligent student. Actually, I'm more scared that I don't understand the concept cause in university, you're left alone to die unless you make some pretty smart friends. Yeah.
So, no skipping of classes unless I want to fail. Hnn. I'm worried for my assignment grades. Didn't think I did too well. Maybe I'll only get a credit... Well... There goes my hopes for the Dean's list. Distinction all the way~ hopefully.
Back to my bestie story... Can't reveal anything here. So... /giggles. Yeah. That's all I can do.
Okay, I got distracted. Got to sleep now.
Good night~!
^.^
Friday, November 28, 2014
Things I don't understand.
During dinner tonight, I left a hint about dating guys and going on dates and boyfriends. I wonder how my mom don't even seem interested in the topic. She just brushed it off so casually.
Actually, many times, I tried using other people as examples like how they have breakups and boyfriends and such, but she just thinks that dating is reductant and it doesn't exist in my life. I've dated before, and she knew that once, and she didn't react too positively about it because she thought I was too young to be dating boys. So, I don't share such information with her. It's only natural since... her reactions are really... scary.
But now, I think I'm entitled to date. Okay, who talks like this anyway? I think I'm at an appropriate age to date. Kinda. And I don't feel like doing it behind her back. Or my parent's backs. Apparently, dad doesn't react well to me dating too. Is this a thing of being an only child? Gosh.
It's tiring to always need to come up with excuses to go out, or go home late, or randomly spend money, or receive gifts or buy gifts. The list goes on. It's just... can't we all be civilised people and let me enjoy a little dating freedom? It's like my mom thinks I'm destined to be forever alone, and I don't date, I'm not interested in guys, guys are not interested in me either and whatever.
Not once did she ask me about guys related stuff. They're just banned from my life. When I say I made new male friends, she would ask why and said that I'm better off making female friends. I'm just like, why not? Male friends are people, female friends are people, why can't I become friends with people? Ridiculous.
It's not like I can marry females when I'm not even les.
And then she will start to regret her choices when I reached the marriage age and can't even find a single boyfriend, or potential boyfriend, or even a close guy friend. Yeah, ain't got no time for regrets yo. I just don't understand!
Conservative. Too conservative.
Leads me to another issue. I think my mom has problems. Maybe.
She thinks I don't get rid of unslightly hair or what.. I don't know what she's thinking. Everytime I wore sleeveless clothes, she will put on a weird expression and tell me not to lift up my arms. I'm pretty speechless. I shaved okay? I waxed okay? There's nothing there okay? Gosh. Do I need to get a IPL treatment too? I feel like banging my head on the wall. Why would I even wear sleeveless shirts when I didn't shave? Gosh. Goshhhhh.
Too narrow minded.
Explains why there're many things I can't voice out. I've got problems haunting me that I can't tell anyone except some. Maybe they'll understand and help me. I don't even need the solution or the help, I just need some assurance and support. But NO. BIG FAT NO. NARROW MINDED. Doesn't understand. Everything that happened is my fault. I caused it. Wallow in my own despair. FINE. I WILL DEAL WITH IT MYSELF. Damnnit.
When will the day come when I can express my feelings and say how I truly feel? I'm not always happy, although I try to be. I have more problems than I lead on and I don't know how to deal with it. Alright, so I've ignored it and pretend it doesn't exist for almost half my life. There's only so much to pretense right? Damnit.
Allow me to be extremely negative and selfish and stupid with no ounce of maturity for once. Most of my problems will be solved if my dad wakes up from his fantasy world, and when my mom opens up her mind a little more.
.............
Age is only but a number.
We're all children.
Good night.
Actually, many times, I tried using other people as examples like how they have breakups and boyfriends and such, but she just thinks that dating is reductant and it doesn't exist in my life. I've dated before, and she knew that once, and she didn't react too positively about it because she thought I was too young to be dating boys. So, I don't share such information with her. It's only natural since... her reactions are really... scary.
But now, I think I'm entitled to date. Okay, who talks like this anyway? I think I'm at an appropriate age to date. Kinda. And I don't feel like doing it behind her back. Or my parent's backs. Apparently, dad doesn't react well to me dating too. Is this a thing of being an only child? Gosh.
It's tiring to always need to come up with excuses to go out, or go home late, or randomly spend money, or receive gifts or buy gifts. The list goes on. It's just... can't we all be civilised people and let me enjoy a little dating freedom? It's like my mom thinks I'm destined to be forever alone, and I don't date, I'm not interested in guys, guys are not interested in me either and whatever.
Not once did she ask me about guys related stuff. They're just banned from my life. When I say I made new male friends, she would ask why and said that I'm better off making female friends. I'm just like, why not? Male friends are people, female friends are people, why can't I become friends with people? Ridiculous.
It's not like I can marry females when I'm not even les.
And then she will start to regret her choices when I reached the marriage age and can't even find a single boyfriend, or potential boyfriend, or even a close guy friend. Yeah, ain't got no time for regrets yo. I just don't understand!
Conservative. Too conservative.
Leads me to another issue. I think my mom has problems. Maybe.
She thinks I don't get rid of unslightly hair or what.. I don't know what she's thinking. Everytime I wore sleeveless clothes, she will put on a weird expression and tell me not to lift up my arms. I'm pretty speechless. I shaved okay? I waxed okay? There's nothing there okay? Gosh. Do I need to get a IPL treatment too? I feel like banging my head on the wall. Why would I even wear sleeveless shirts when I didn't shave? Gosh. Goshhhhh.
Too narrow minded.
Explains why there're many things I can't voice out. I've got problems haunting me that I can't tell anyone except some. Maybe they'll understand and help me. I don't even need the solution or the help, I just need some assurance and support. But NO. BIG FAT NO. NARROW MINDED. Doesn't understand. Everything that happened is my fault. I caused it. Wallow in my own despair. FINE. I WILL DEAL WITH IT MYSELF. Damnnit.
When will the day come when I can express my feelings and say how I truly feel? I'm not always happy, although I try to be. I have more problems than I lead on and I don't know how to deal with it. Alright, so I've ignored it and pretend it doesn't exist for almost half my life. There's only so much to pretense right? Damnit.
Allow me to be extremely negative and selfish and stupid with no ounce of maturity for once. Most of my problems will be solved if my dad wakes up from his fantasy world, and when my mom opens up her mind a little more.
.............
Age is only but a number.
We're all children.
Good night.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
University Life
^-^
I'm finally back after eons. I always forget I have a blog. I've been relatively optimistic and cheerful these days, so there's no need to rant. And THAT- is a good thing.
I'm in a private university, but I'm still in Singapore after all, so I have absolutely no idea why I haven't made any Singaporeans friends. Funny. People seem to think I'm from China, for reasons. Well, wait till you hear me speak. I'll blow your brains away. Pssh, judgemental people. Whatever happened to not judge a book by its cover? Typical /rolls eyes
For the first month in school, I say I'm doing not bad. Well, I'm still kind of lost here and there, but I'll get along. Surviving perfectly well, it's a miracle. I just miss poly life whereby you can still sort of rely on your ever helpful lecturers. Don't get me wrong, the ones in university are helpful too. It's just... the amount of independence you're required to have is overwhelming. You do everything yourself and you email a lot. No one will nag you to attend classes or remind you of the datelines. This is where you make friends. Hah. Why do I sound like I'm using them? I like my friends.
Flash news: I got a boyfriend. Hah. If I still complain I'm lonely, welcome to smack me in my face. I must be retarded. It's kind of quick, in Singapore standards and something I'm not used to, but it's going rather well. Not everyday you meet someone who clicks with you so quickly. It's a good thing I guess. More details are not allowed here . /insert dry laughter
Side note: I ought to learn Cantonese. My new friends all speak Canto. Plus the boyfriend. My life is tough. I wanted to learn Japanese... Looks like I'll go slightly off track for the meantime.
My house is gonna be under renovation next year. Something which made me so angry that I curse and swear everytime it was brought up. Seriously, the government projects are just... interrupting my life. I need my house to stay alive. My bathroom. My room. My kitchen.
Mom tells me to move out and live in a hostel. I'm just mentally thinking... shall I go drag a luggage full of belongings and move into a random hostel? Crash with my friends. Two weeks of being homeless. Maybe I can try living on the streets also. Okay, bad joke. Hostel, it is.
Just a little biased view of... people. I will not name names. Because it might apply, it might not.
My bestie told me- this person that she knows... One word: A**hole.
I don't even know him and he just sounds like a total jerk already. Yeah, gloat in your money, power and whatever perfect fantasy world you think you're living in. When you finally open your eyes, you'll find that life is more than that. Good luck. /gives up ranting quickly
He will not dampen my mood!
I have 3 assignments due by the end of this month. Kind of screwed cause I haven't started on them. Someone smack me~ Just lightly will do.
Alright~ That's enough update for a month.
Come back again next month?
Heh.
>-<
I'm finally back after eons. I always forget I have a blog. I've been relatively optimistic and cheerful these days, so there's no need to rant. And THAT- is a good thing.
I'm in a private university, but I'm still in Singapore after all, so I have absolutely no idea why I haven't made any Singaporeans friends. Funny. People seem to think I'm from China, for reasons. Well, wait till you hear me speak. I'll blow your brains away. Pssh, judgemental people. Whatever happened to not judge a book by its cover? Typical /rolls eyes
For the first month in school, I say I'm doing not bad. Well, I'm still kind of lost here and there, but I'll get along. Surviving perfectly well, it's a miracle. I just miss poly life whereby you can still sort of rely on your ever helpful lecturers. Don't get me wrong, the ones in university are helpful too. It's just... the amount of independence you're required to have is overwhelming. You do everything yourself and you email a lot. No one will nag you to attend classes or remind you of the datelines. This is where you make friends. Hah. Why do I sound like I'm using them? I like my friends.
Flash news: I got a boyfriend. Hah. If I still complain I'm lonely, welcome to smack me in my face. I must be retarded. It's kind of quick, in Singapore standards and something I'm not used to, but it's going rather well. Not everyday you meet someone who clicks with you so quickly. It's a good thing I guess. More details are not allowed here . /insert dry laughter
Side note: I ought to learn Cantonese. My new friends all speak Canto. Plus the boyfriend. My life is tough. I wanted to learn Japanese... Looks like I'll go slightly off track for the meantime.
My house is gonna be under renovation next year. Something which made me so angry that I curse and swear everytime it was brought up. Seriously, the government projects are just... interrupting my life. I need my house to stay alive. My bathroom. My room. My kitchen.
Mom tells me to move out and live in a hostel. I'm just mentally thinking... shall I go drag a luggage full of belongings and move into a random hostel? Crash with my friends. Two weeks of being homeless. Maybe I can try living on the streets also. Okay, bad joke. Hostel, it is.
Just a little biased view of... people. I will not name names. Because it might apply, it might not.
My bestie told me- this person that she knows... One word: A**hole.
I don't even know him and he just sounds like a total jerk already. Yeah, gloat in your money, power and whatever perfect fantasy world you think you're living in. When you finally open your eyes, you'll find that life is more than that. Good luck. /gives up ranting quickly
He will not dampen my mood!
I have 3 assignments due by the end of this month. Kind of screwed cause I haven't started on them. Someone smack me~ Just lightly will do.
Alright~ That's enough update for a month.
Come back again next month?
Heh.
>-<
Friday, October 24, 2014
79 problems
'I got 99 problems but you won't be one'
I have 99 problems too.
10 problems are Uni issues.
Another 10 problems are personal issues.
The rest of 79 problems are caused by mom.
Hurray. What's new?
It's just kinda suffocating the way she controls every single detail of my life. She wants to know everything but she doesn't listen. I think she has a control freak problem.
I don't think I need someone to tell me how much rice I should eat during dinner. If I'm full, I'm full. If I eat a full bowl today, it doesn't mean I have to eat a full bowl tomorrow too. Or for the rest of the week. Can't I decide upon myself how much I want to eat? /sighs
Why can't I stay in my room most of the time? It's not like I'm turning into a hermit or frog. There's nothing else to do outside of my room anyway. It's not like my house is big. There's nowhere to go. What can I do at home? Sit in the middle of the living room and meditate? I might if the fan actually does its purpose.
The humiliation when I'm asked to drink water. I don't know why it's still happening. I don't even get ill easily anymore and I'm sure I'm capable of hydrating myself properly. I don't have to be drinking water every other minute.
It's even funnier when my aunt with a 3/4 year old daughter was asked to drink water, and then my mom had this sudden realization moment, and she asked me to drink water too. I'm like 5 times her age. I don't need to be babysitted like her anymore. I'm embarrassed. /sighs.
Sometimes I bother, sometimes I don't. What's the point of trying when you know it's going to happen time and again until I- Well, for now, let's just say forever. It's going to happen for the rest of my life. It's never going to stop.
Now, I think that the main issue is that she probably doesn't realise that I'm actually 20 years old in age, probably 18 in mentality and definitely not a 10 year old anymore. Hell, I never handled Uni issues myself with no guidance and that doesn't mean anything. Hey, I even paraded down the streets with 6k and didn't get robbed immediately. That must mean something right?
Maybe no. That doesn't mean a thing. It probably won't mean anything in 5 years time too. I'm forever going to be babysitted till I get married. Then, I'll get babysitted while my children are getting babysitted and we'll all be babysitted together. It sounds so fun. /sighs.
I don't think I need reminders to pack my bag before going to bed because that's common sense and engraved in me since I was in Primary school. Having to wake up at 6am, and then taking a shower, dressing up and attempting to have breakfast is already hetic enough. Why would I not pack my bag the night before? Unless I have the desire to be late for school. If not, nope.
But really... even if I pack my bag in the morning, is that really a problem?
I think mom has a fetish for people with more flesh. So maybe she should go adopt one overweight child and throw me out. For years, I've been dealing with stress of not eating enough, nonsensical overnight weight loss and being told to look at the mirror. Isn't it stressful?
Well, I'm sorry that I'm one of those few lucky bitches with high metabolism rates who can stuff themselves with pizza, fries and everything fattening for a whole week and still retain the same weight. I'm sorry okay? I sincerely apologise with my butt.
It's not like I don't want to gain some meat. Because of the wrong perceptions I was forced upon, sometimes I get so disgusted with myself when I see my own skinny limbs. Stupid limbs, why don't you suck it up and gain some weight huh. /sighs.
What happened to loving your body as it is? Someone get me a psychiatrist.
On a serious note, I think I do need a psychiatrist because my temper has been running short and I snap easily. Being lonely has also taken its toll on me.
I like being alone because I need to be alone. But at the same time, I shouldn't be alone cause I don't like being lonely. Does that make sense?
On a totally irrelevant note, I think mom is sadistic cause she enjoys watching gore movies.
(Maybe that's why I suffer) Someone get her a psychiatrist too.
That's all. Goodbye.
Hopefully, I stop being irritable already.
I have 99 problems too.
10 problems are Uni issues.
Another 10 problems are personal issues.
The rest of 79 problems are caused by mom.
Hurray. What's new?
It's just kinda suffocating the way she controls every single detail of my life. She wants to know everything but she doesn't listen. I think she has a control freak problem.
I don't think I need someone to tell me how much rice I should eat during dinner. If I'm full, I'm full. If I eat a full bowl today, it doesn't mean I have to eat a full bowl tomorrow too. Or for the rest of the week. Can't I decide upon myself how much I want to eat? /sighs
Why can't I stay in my room most of the time? It's not like I'm turning into a hermit or frog. There's nothing else to do outside of my room anyway. It's not like my house is big. There's nowhere to go. What can I do at home? Sit in the middle of the living room and meditate? I might if the fan actually does its purpose.
The humiliation when I'm asked to drink water. I don't know why it's still happening. I don't even get ill easily anymore and I'm sure I'm capable of hydrating myself properly. I don't have to be drinking water every other minute.
It's even funnier when my aunt with a 3/4 year old daughter was asked to drink water, and then my mom had this sudden realization moment, and she asked me to drink water too. I'm like 5 times her age. I don't need to be babysitted like her anymore. I'm embarrassed. /sighs.
Sometimes I bother, sometimes I don't. What's the point of trying when you know it's going to happen time and again until I- Well, for now, let's just say forever. It's going to happen for the rest of my life. It's never going to stop.
Now, I think that the main issue is that she probably doesn't realise that I'm actually 20 years old in age, probably 18 in mentality and definitely not a 10 year old anymore. Hell, I never handled Uni issues myself with no guidance and that doesn't mean anything. Hey, I even paraded down the streets with 6k and didn't get robbed immediately. That must mean something right?
Maybe no. That doesn't mean a thing. It probably won't mean anything in 5 years time too. I'm forever going to be babysitted till I get married. Then, I'll get babysitted while my children are getting babysitted and we'll all be babysitted together. It sounds so fun. /sighs.
I don't think I need reminders to pack my bag before going to bed because that's common sense and engraved in me since I was in Primary school. Having to wake up at 6am, and then taking a shower, dressing up and attempting to have breakfast is already hetic enough. Why would I not pack my bag the night before? Unless I have the desire to be late for school. If not, nope.
But really... even if I pack my bag in the morning, is that really a problem?
I think mom has a fetish for people with more flesh. So maybe she should go adopt one overweight child and throw me out. For years, I've been dealing with stress of not eating enough, nonsensical overnight weight loss and being told to look at the mirror. Isn't it stressful?
Well, I'm sorry that I'm one of those few lucky bitches with high metabolism rates who can stuff themselves with pizza, fries and everything fattening for a whole week and still retain the same weight. I'm sorry okay? I sincerely apologise with my butt.
It's not like I don't want to gain some meat. Because of the wrong perceptions I was forced upon, sometimes I get so disgusted with myself when I see my own skinny limbs. Stupid limbs, why don't you suck it up and gain some weight huh. /sighs.
What happened to loving your body as it is? Someone get me a psychiatrist.
On a serious note, I think I do need a psychiatrist because my temper has been running short and I snap easily. Being lonely has also taken its toll on me.
I like being alone because I need to be alone. But at the same time, I shouldn't be alone cause I don't like being lonely. Does that make sense?
On a totally irrelevant note, I think mom is sadistic cause she enjoys watching gore movies.
(Maybe that's why I suffer) Someone get her a psychiatrist too.
That's all. Goodbye.
Hopefully, I stop being irritable already.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Experience at 10 yrs old
Hey yo~
I wasn't going to lecture about life and all that depressing stuff today. But then, I suddenly remembered how I watched this video on curing back acne (cause I have back acne too) and I saw a comment which made me feel so angry.
The commenter said that she was glad someone this pretty (the girl in the video is a popular youtuber. Pretty too) had back acne too. She thought she was the only one suffering from it.
I'm just like... Excuse me? That was an incredibly selfish thing to say. Right, I get it that she's happy and all- there's someone out there who understands her feelings about dealing with those hideous and painful little bumps- but excuse me. That is still so wrong on so many levels.
It's like you have cancer and you're glad someone else has cancer too cause you won't be alone. Okay, not so serious but still WRONG. SO SO WRONG. I might be reading too much about it, but- Hey! That comment clealy wasn't filtered through the brains first.
Because of that, now I'm going to rant on how I suffered from this stupid deformity named Scoliosis. I really don't want anyone else to go through the same experience as I did, although I do know fully well that this cannot be prevented and many other kids are probably already experiencing it. (Including my cousin. But hers is cured. I shall talk about it later)
It started when I was 10 yrs old. Found out by the health checkups in school where they make you bend over to measure your spine. (I still find it disturbing that they peeped into your underwear to see the level of your growth. To see if you're growing pubic hair or not. Seriously, that wasn't necessary at all. It's none of anyone's business really.) I was a tall kid then and maybe I grew up faster than kids my age cause I tower over a lot of my friends last time. And my height didn't stop increasing each year until it gradually came to a stop in Sec 2. (I'm short now...)
My main story- The nurse told me that my spine was a few degress off from normal. But it was still fine. It's normal cause some people don't really have a 100% straight spine. Then the second year checkup came again and the degree worsened really quickly. I was sent to the hospital for more checkups and without my knowledge (okay, maybe I was told but I couldn't understand), an appointment was made for me to get a backbrace.
I didn't know what the hell a backbrace was but I hated it already. When I got to the clinic, it was like I stepped into a... small factory? The place stinks of chemicals and some plastic stuff and I HATE IT. What say do I have though? I'm 10/11. Kids my age don't have much say.
I hated it so much, I whined and complained but I still got the brace done. At least the nurse was nice and patient. I still didn't like her because she worked there. Don't judge me, I was only a kid remember?
It took around 2 weeks for the brace to be ready for collection. (I don't have a good memory. I can't even remember the names of people I met the day before. But this, I will never forget.)
My first try on the backbrace makes me want to cry. It was so tight. Even tighter than when I got it moulded on my body. The doctor said it was necessary. To make it tight so that my spine will be 'locked' in place and wouldn't go 'off track'. My parents were more worried about it affecting my growth rather than the discomfort. I was so angry I refused to speak to anyone. It was so tight that I couldn't barely exhale anyway. Never mind try to yell or scream.
I was told to wear it everyday. To sleep and stuff. It was a torture at first. It was so warm and I perspired like crazy so we had to install air-con. I was glad to get an air-con but for its main purpose... hmm. It was still tight and it limited my movements a lot so I rarely moved around. (Maybe that's why I was cubbier last time) I couldn't sit on the floor cause it's hard to stand up afterwards. It's a major burden. Needless to say, I was a sulky, grumpy and depressed kid.
I wore it for six months. Well, there was nothing to stop my growth anyway. I still grew fast and my condition worsened. I had to get a new brace. And the new one was so terrible. If the previous one was torture, this one was absolutely hell. There was a neck brace included. I feel like I've been in a freak accident and I don't have a backbone anymore so I need these braces to get myself upright. It's so dumb. It looked uglier than the previous one and it is impossible to hide the neck brace under my clothes. And it's all metal and screws and it made me look like a freaking robot. Or a freak. Whatever rows your boat.
It was horrible. I cried and bargained and begged. And I managed to wear the previous one without the neck brace to school. Previously, I didn't wear braces to school. But now, I had to. I was 12 that year. Older, but still very much a kid.
I was scared of people finding out and touching me. My thoughts were- what if someone poke me and found out that I was wearing something underneath? Wouldn't it be weird? How do I explain it? And what if they poke me and I couldn't feel it?
Well, it was more of a internal struggle that time. Because I kept skinship to a minimal and no one really touched me. And if someone poked me with a pencil, I usually felt it through the brace. A boy sitting behind me used to poke me frequently just for the heck of it. I don't know if he noticed that I was abnormally hard for a girl since he poked my waist. But he didn't comment on it or tell anyone. And I was glad. He had a crush on me too. Maybe he was just being really nice about it. Puppy love, seriously.
Maybe it was also because of my fears in the past, when I got to Secondary school, I was really particular about skinship. I don't like people touching me. Although hugs are fine and all. But only by best friends. I'll be really uncomfortable when someone I don't know touches me. Maybe it's also why guys in the next few classes called me snow white (cause I'm really pale), some called me ice princess and my girlfriends blatantly called me a rock. It was amusing. But the guys were protective over me, so all is good. I'm a princess. hahaha.
One time I even quarrelled with my close friend cause she couldn't stop touching me. She was running her hands on my thigh and I wasn't into skinship that much and it felt disgusting. So I scolded her. And she was obsessed with skinship. Didn't take it very well, I say. It was a funny incident. Didn't matter to me now cause we didn't keep in contact anyway.
Now, I kinda like skinship cause it feels nice and all. And I like hugs too. And sitting beside people I like. Now I sound weird. Never mind.
Back to the brace story- I cried every morning, begging mom to let me not wear the brace to school. Of course, she wouldn't let me. It was supposed to be for my good. But it led to an operation anyway. (/scoffs so hard I'll die. I'll get to that later on)
I used to like assembly because it was interesting and we can skip lessons. Then, I hated it when I got the brace. I had to sit there for an hour. I couldn't really shift much and I had to sit very straight. It was uncomfortable and after a while, I always couldn't feel my legs. I complained to mom and she asked she'll talk to the teachers to let me sit on the benches with them. Boy, that was the worse suggestion ever.
It didn't help that I was a newly transferred student into a better class because of my good grades. I think it was a punishment instead of a reward. I love my previous class. All my close friends were there and we were together for a year already. So much can happen in a year you know. We played so much together. I had no one in the new class. And almost everyone felt like backstabbers to me there. I was quite the loner. I don't go for recess with them and I don't talk to them. (My friends and I, we even begged our teacher to not switch me over. But she said it wasn't her decision. We even tried asking other students if they wanted to go over to that class)
I mentioned that because there was one time, assembly dragged on for so long. My legs literally gave up when I tried to stand. I just fell. No one even helped me up. They were just... distracted. I don't blame them cause everything was so messy when you have a few hundreds of people moving at the same time. But I couldn't help but think that things will be so different if I were with my friends instead. I could have made them carry me if I wanted to.
Well, school was less fun when I was 11 but whatever. I got through it. In a piece physically, and a few pieces mentally.
The braces didn't really help much. Even after all the torture and tears, I still had to get an operation. I rememberd being angry and demanded to know why we didn't just go straight to the operation when the end result will still be the same. At least I don't have to start my mornings crying for a year.
What was done, was done.
I was pissed at the doctors and my parents. No one let me choose, they just threw everything at me. And I have to pick up the pieces myself. I was 12, it was so unfair. I hate them all.
Blankly, I went for the operation. I don't remember being nervous or scared. I just wanted everything to be over as soon as possible. The doctors were kinda worried when I showed a nonchalant attitude while waiting outside the operating theatre. I just lay there on the bed, shivering in the cold but refusing to speak until this senior nurse came by and put a blanket over me. She told me I was probably the bravest she has ever seen cause I didn't cry or freak out. And I was lying there for quite some time, peeping into the theatre whenever the doors opened. Honestly, it looked quite cool like in the movies, but who cares. At the moment, nothing was worse than a backbrace and I just wanted out. the implications of a major operation didn't occur to me. (Although I did go for blood testing and withdrawal and stuff like that)
When I finally got into the theatre, I don't know why the doctors didn't like knock me unconscious first, so I saw everything that was going on. All the nurses, the x-rays and cool ass stuff. Then this male nurse came and said he'll need to draw my blood. So I just gave him my hand. He couldn't find my veins cause I was cold and he tried a few more times before actually succeeding. I remembered thinking what a lousy nurse he was. He apologised many times and said that I was the coolest and bravest girl ever. Whatever. I got compliments so what? Not that they meant a thing. He probably told everyone the same thing. But he's still lousy. And then he placed this muzzle thing over me and I breathed in so deeply, I totally knew I was going to sleep. It was seriously like a movie. I knew I fell asleep almost immediately.
BAM! The next thing I knew, I was in the ICU and the nurse told me to drink water. My parents were probably somewhere outside the glass window and I probably didn't even look at them. I went back to sleep. I hate hospitals but ICU was cool too. It was so quiet and the nurses are nice. They feed me water with my precious nike bottle. And gave me doses of morphine...
And then I was in a normal ward. Because I'm a brave kid, I had no qualms about sitting up and eating and entertaining myself. The thoughts of the wound hurting didn't even cross my mind. I just wanted to move. And when I did move, it didn't even hurt. I'm a rock, seriously.
The adult in the bed opposite had the same operation a few days earlier than me and she was still crying and wailing whenever someone tries to get her to sit up, and I was already practicing walking in the corridors. I ate and I walked and lie around until I was deemed well enough to be discharged. All of this only lasted for a week and a half. Usually people needed to stay for longer than two weeks. I was proud of myself.
Although it was quite disturbing that I was leaking weird fluids from my kidneys and I needed to get my bedsheets changed so frequently, my main concern was when I can get to wash my hair. It was too oily and tangled. The first shower after two weeks was awesome, I tell you. Pure bliss.
My friends didn't know where I went to. Even my relatives didn't know about it until the operation was over. They rushed in to visit me at night. My eldest aunt, who was like a second mom, was scared half to death and quite pissed that mom didn't even consult anyone before making such a major decision. I learnt about it quite recently, like last year, and I was pissed too. Mom could have done more research and asked around for advices instead of just blindly listening to the doctors. I don't know how went through her mind. But some of her decisions weren't all that great.
I was done with the backbraces. They cost a bomb. About a thousand for each one and they did no shit to help me. I was so so done. (And I highly suspect that they're still somewhere in my closet. Hidden away for god knows what reason. I'm not touching them ever again.)
I was glad for the operation because I got rid of the braces. But then another problem came. The scars don't heal. Because mom thought the decision of letting it heal naturally without stitches was supposedly 'better'. It became that way. She didn't do any research or ask the doctors for any implications and dad obviously don't know anything else apart from providing the money. They thought natural was good. Which is not always the case.
It was done. I'm going to live with those scars, made by bad choices for the rest of my life. Till now, I thought it was unfair. Why didn't anyone ask me? I was confused as to why I was leaking fluids randomly after the operation. No one had the decency to fill me in. Adults really gave too little credits to kids. It's my body, I deserve to know.
But well... what's done will remain done. I'm just gonna live with it. And hopefully get some laser treatment in hopes to remove it. It did shit to my confidence level. I can't even wear a bareback or swimsuit without feeling self-conscious.
What didn't exactly help me got through the low esteem period was mom's unfiltered mouth. Whenever I wore something that showed a little of my back, she will tell me to go change in that tone of hers which sounded similar to disgust. I don't know what to feel. Was it that bad? I changed anyway and actually resented myself for a while, blaming myself for the scar not healing right. I thought my skin was no good. Because I wasn't exactly good looking at that time (I thought I was ugly during puberty), I felt like shit. Literally every single day. Well... It got better when I grew up. I was mature enough to deal with curious questions and people wanting to see the scar.
One of my friends even told me that my scar was cool and she lifted up my shirt to see it. I was lying on my stomach anyway, and I don't know why I didn't bother stopping her that time. I was sensitive about it and I certainly didn't think it was cool at all, in fact I wanted to punch her for saying that, but I didn't and let her touch it, pretending to be all engrossed in the tv show. Maybe I was mature enough to just suck it up and deal with it like an adult would. I was 15, I believe.
Although I was told to reframe from strengous activities, I didn't give a damn. That stupid metal rod in me wasn't going to stop me from having fun. I danced, I did sports, I played like I was going to kill myself. I'm just gonna live. The funny thing was that whenever I walk through the security gates in a shop, it'll ring. The metal rod is kinda cool too. In a weird way.
I'll say my younger days will be much better if mom wasn't being such an insensitive person. She had the sensitivity of a wall. Just some inanimate object. Like a stone or a chair or a pebble.
When I cried because the braces made me uncomfortable, she told me to bear with it and on the air-con. When I had blisters because the braces rubbed too much against my skin, she didn't even look and said that it'll go away. When I told her in the mornings that I couldn't move properly and it affected me in school, she told me to think of a way myself. Actually, whenever I complained and cried about it, all she said was to think of a way myself. I'm so young. If I have a way out, I would have already done it. And what was I to do? I can't think of a way to deal with it myself, which is exactly why I asked for help. But no. Someone with the sensitivity of a wall wouldn't understand. Because she hasn't gone through it to know how it feels like.
I don't receive help. So I helped myself. (Ah, now I feel like crying all over again) I totally sucked it up, well, as much as I could. All I did was to wiggle out of the brace myself, take a few moments to cool down and then have her help me wear it back. Of course, I got a scolding whenever I did that, but whatever. I still did it a lot.
It eventually led to me learning how to do the straps of the brace myself and I did wore it back myself a few times. I wasn't a chore to do it, it was rather easy. But the feeling of putting on something which you've been trying to escape from... Let's just say that I'm... insane. Since I didn't need help anymore, not that I received any anyway, I just cope myself in my room all day to read books or play games. I don't need anyone anymore. (That explains the connection I have with my room. I can stay in my room forever provided I didn't need the toilet or starve to death)
Years later, when I was 16 or 17, I was totally over everything. My cousin developed the same problem. The only difference was, she had a resourceful and supportive mom. Her mom asked around and got introduced to this massage specialist who gives you back massages and apparently helps you to pull your spine. My cousin have to do a series of stretching exercises to strengthen the spine and go for massages but it worked. Her spine is alright now. It freaking worked. And it only took less than a year!
Honestly, I was bitter. I think I turned into a bittergourd. I kept thinking of how different my circumstances will be if mom had actually told my aunt about it. Maybe I would be doing exercises and going for massages instead of wearing those torturous plastics. Maybe I could have avoided the operation too. I'm still quite bitter about that. Even right now. I don't think it's something I can just forgive. Because of ignorance.
Another thing that I was bitter about. I'm not scared of pain. Literally, I'm a masochist. Not the sexual way, of course. I don't like inflicting pain for pleasure too. It's just the way it is. I remembered the doctor asking mom (right, ask mom but not me although it's my body) if they want to shave off the protruding part of my right shoulder blade. It is still protruding out now, which makes me look like I'm slouching, but actually I'm not. Mom said no, quite obviously. Cause the doctor said it's gonna be quite painful. I'm just like, come on, what else can be more painful than mental tortue for years. A little pain is nothing. I can already walk with a gaping wound, I'm sure a little pain on my shoulder is a peanut case.
I totally regret not having it done. I could have bear the pain than to suffer this mental torture. Mom really doesn't know her limits. Like I've said, because my shoulder is protruding out, I look like I'm slouching. And mom thinks that too. So she scolds me for slouching and asks why I'm not afraid of my condition worsening again. I'm just very maligned. Everytime I'll have to explain and say that I wasn't slouching, it's my shoulder.
And one day, I asked if she remembered the doctor asking her about fixing my shoulder blade. Guess what. She doesn't remember. I wish I can forget too. But I can never.
Not when she's constantly reminding me of things that I don't want to think about almost every other day. Till now, she's still complaining about my bad posture. I don't think this resentment will ever go away. I'll need at least an apology first. Haven't gotten it yet. /shrugs
There are many other conflicted feelings and implications but they're a little too personal to be shared. There're limits on how open I can be, you know. Haha
I feel like I can write a book on this and teach kids how to deal with this. So they can have it better than I did. And also to educate parents to be more wary of your child's feelings. Cause there're more internal battles inside than what they actually lead you on. And also, do not simply listen to doctors. They don't necessarily make the wisest decisions on earth.
Be strong, kids!
I got through it, you will too.
/shrugs
Goodbye~
I wasn't going to lecture about life and all that depressing stuff today. But then, I suddenly remembered how I watched this video on curing back acne (cause I have back acne too) and I saw a comment which made me feel so angry.
The commenter said that she was glad someone this pretty (the girl in the video is a popular youtuber. Pretty too) had back acne too. She thought she was the only one suffering from it.
I'm just like... Excuse me? That was an incredibly selfish thing to say. Right, I get it that she's happy and all- there's someone out there who understands her feelings about dealing with those hideous and painful little bumps- but excuse me. That is still so wrong on so many levels.
It's like you have cancer and you're glad someone else has cancer too cause you won't be alone. Okay, not so serious but still WRONG. SO SO WRONG. I might be reading too much about it, but- Hey! That comment clealy wasn't filtered through the brains first.
Because of that, now I'm going to rant on how I suffered from this stupid deformity named Scoliosis. I really don't want anyone else to go through the same experience as I did, although I do know fully well that this cannot be prevented and many other kids are probably already experiencing it. (Including my cousin. But hers is cured. I shall talk about it later)
It started when I was 10 yrs old. Found out by the health checkups in school where they make you bend over to measure your spine. (I still find it disturbing that they peeped into your underwear to see the level of your growth. To see if you're growing pubic hair or not. Seriously, that wasn't necessary at all. It's none of anyone's business really.) I was a tall kid then and maybe I grew up faster than kids my age cause I tower over a lot of my friends last time. And my height didn't stop increasing each year until it gradually came to a stop in Sec 2. (I'm short now...)
My main story- The nurse told me that my spine was a few degress off from normal. But it was still fine. It's normal cause some people don't really have a 100% straight spine. Then the second year checkup came again and the degree worsened really quickly. I was sent to the hospital for more checkups and without my knowledge (okay, maybe I was told but I couldn't understand), an appointment was made for me to get a backbrace.
I didn't know what the hell a backbrace was but I hated it already. When I got to the clinic, it was like I stepped into a... small factory? The place stinks of chemicals and some plastic stuff and I HATE IT. What say do I have though? I'm 10/11. Kids my age don't have much say.
I hated it so much, I whined and complained but I still got the brace done. At least the nurse was nice and patient. I still didn't like her because she worked there. Don't judge me, I was only a kid remember?
It took around 2 weeks for the brace to be ready for collection. (I don't have a good memory. I can't even remember the names of people I met the day before. But this, I will never forget.)
My first try on the backbrace makes me want to cry. It was so tight. Even tighter than when I got it moulded on my body. The doctor said it was necessary. To make it tight so that my spine will be 'locked' in place and wouldn't go 'off track'. My parents were more worried about it affecting my growth rather than the discomfort. I was so angry I refused to speak to anyone. It was so tight that I couldn't barely exhale anyway. Never mind try to yell or scream.
I was told to wear it everyday. To sleep and stuff. It was a torture at first. It was so warm and I perspired like crazy so we had to install air-con. I was glad to get an air-con but for its main purpose... hmm. It was still tight and it limited my movements a lot so I rarely moved around. (Maybe that's why I was cubbier last time) I couldn't sit on the floor cause it's hard to stand up afterwards. It's a major burden. Needless to say, I was a sulky, grumpy and depressed kid.
I wore it for six months. Well, there was nothing to stop my growth anyway. I still grew fast and my condition worsened. I had to get a new brace. And the new one was so terrible. If the previous one was torture, this one was absolutely hell. There was a neck brace included. I feel like I've been in a freak accident and I don't have a backbone anymore so I need these braces to get myself upright. It's so dumb. It looked uglier than the previous one and it is impossible to hide the neck brace under my clothes. And it's all metal and screws and it made me look like a freaking robot. Or a freak. Whatever rows your boat.
It was horrible. I cried and bargained and begged. And I managed to wear the previous one without the neck brace to school. Previously, I didn't wear braces to school. But now, I had to. I was 12 that year. Older, but still very much a kid.
I was scared of people finding out and touching me. My thoughts were- what if someone poke me and found out that I was wearing something underneath? Wouldn't it be weird? How do I explain it? And what if they poke me and I couldn't feel it?
Well, it was more of a internal struggle that time. Because I kept skinship to a minimal and no one really touched me. And if someone poked me with a pencil, I usually felt it through the brace. A boy sitting behind me used to poke me frequently just for the heck of it. I don't know if he noticed that I was abnormally hard for a girl since he poked my waist. But he didn't comment on it or tell anyone. And I was glad. He had a crush on me too. Maybe he was just being really nice about it. Puppy love, seriously.
Maybe it was also because of my fears in the past, when I got to Secondary school, I was really particular about skinship. I don't like people touching me. Although hugs are fine and all. But only by best friends. I'll be really uncomfortable when someone I don't know touches me. Maybe it's also why guys in the next few classes called me snow white (cause I'm really pale), some called me ice princess and my girlfriends blatantly called me a rock. It was amusing. But the guys were protective over me, so all is good. I'm a princess. hahaha.
One time I even quarrelled with my close friend cause she couldn't stop touching me. She was running her hands on my thigh and I wasn't into skinship that much and it felt disgusting. So I scolded her. And she was obsessed with skinship. Didn't take it very well, I say. It was a funny incident. Didn't matter to me now cause we didn't keep in contact anyway.
Now, I kinda like skinship cause it feels nice and all. And I like hugs too. And sitting beside people I like. Now I sound weird. Never mind.
Back to the brace story- I cried every morning, begging mom to let me not wear the brace to school. Of course, she wouldn't let me. It was supposed to be for my good. But it led to an operation anyway. (/scoffs so hard I'll die. I'll get to that later on)
I used to like assembly because it was interesting and we can skip lessons. Then, I hated it when I got the brace. I had to sit there for an hour. I couldn't really shift much and I had to sit very straight. It was uncomfortable and after a while, I always couldn't feel my legs. I complained to mom and she asked she'll talk to the teachers to let me sit on the benches with them. Boy, that was the worse suggestion ever.
It didn't help that I was a newly transferred student into a better class because of my good grades. I think it was a punishment instead of a reward. I love my previous class. All my close friends were there and we were together for a year already. So much can happen in a year you know. We played so much together. I had no one in the new class. And almost everyone felt like backstabbers to me there. I was quite the loner. I don't go for recess with them and I don't talk to them. (My friends and I, we even begged our teacher to not switch me over. But she said it wasn't her decision. We even tried asking other students if they wanted to go over to that class)
I mentioned that because there was one time, assembly dragged on for so long. My legs literally gave up when I tried to stand. I just fell. No one even helped me up. They were just... distracted. I don't blame them cause everything was so messy when you have a few hundreds of people moving at the same time. But I couldn't help but think that things will be so different if I were with my friends instead. I could have made them carry me if I wanted to.
Well, school was less fun when I was 11 but whatever. I got through it. In a piece physically, and a few pieces mentally.
The braces didn't really help much. Even after all the torture and tears, I still had to get an operation. I rememberd being angry and demanded to know why we didn't just go straight to the operation when the end result will still be the same. At least I don't have to start my mornings crying for a year.
What was done, was done.
I was pissed at the doctors and my parents. No one let me choose, they just threw everything at me. And I have to pick up the pieces myself. I was 12, it was so unfair. I hate them all.
Blankly, I went for the operation. I don't remember being nervous or scared. I just wanted everything to be over as soon as possible. The doctors were kinda worried when I showed a nonchalant attitude while waiting outside the operating theatre. I just lay there on the bed, shivering in the cold but refusing to speak until this senior nurse came by and put a blanket over me. She told me I was probably the bravest she has ever seen cause I didn't cry or freak out. And I was lying there for quite some time, peeping into the theatre whenever the doors opened. Honestly, it looked quite cool like in the movies, but who cares. At the moment, nothing was worse than a backbrace and I just wanted out. the implications of a major operation didn't occur to me. (Although I did go for blood testing and withdrawal and stuff like that)
When I finally got into the theatre, I don't know why the doctors didn't like knock me unconscious first, so I saw everything that was going on. All the nurses, the x-rays and cool ass stuff. Then this male nurse came and said he'll need to draw my blood. So I just gave him my hand. He couldn't find my veins cause I was cold and he tried a few more times before actually succeeding. I remembered thinking what a lousy nurse he was. He apologised many times and said that I was the coolest and bravest girl ever. Whatever. I got compliments so what? Not that they meant a thing. He probably told everyone the same thing. But he's still lousy. And then he placed this muzzle thing over me and I breathed in so deeply, I totally knew I was going to sleep. It was seriously like a movie. I knew I fell asleep almost immediately.
BAM! The next thing I knew, I was in the ICU and the nurse told me to drink water. My parents were probably somewhere outside the glass window and I probably didn't even look at them. I went back to sleep. I hate hospitals but ICU was cool too. It was so quiet and the nurses are nice. They feed me water with my precious nike bottle. And gave me doses of morphine...
And then I was in a normal ward. Because I'm a brave kid, I had no qualms about sitting up and eating and entertaining myself. The thoughts of the wound hurting didn't even cross my mind. I just wanted to move. And when I did move, it didn't even hurt. I'm a rock, seriously.
The adult in the bed opposite had the same operation a few days earlier than me and she was still crying and wailing whenever someone tries to get her to sit up, and I was already practicing walking in the corridors. I ate and I walked and lie around until I was deemed well enough to be discharged. All of this only lasted for a week and a half. Usually people needed to stay for longer than two weeks. I was proud of myself.
Although it was quite disturbing that I was leaking weird fluids from my kidneys and I needed to get my bedsheets changed so frequently, my main concern was when I can get to wash my hair. It was too oily and tangled. The first shower after two weeks was awesome, I tell you. Pure bliss.
My friends didn't know where I went to. Even my relatives didn't know about it until the operation was over. They rushed in to visit me at night. My eldest aunt, who was like a second mom, was scared half to death and quite pissed that mom didn't even consult anyone before making such a major decision. I learnt about it quite recently, like last year, and I was pissed too. Mom could have done more research and asked around for advices instead of just blindly listening to the doctors. I don't know how went through her mind. But some of her decisions weren't all that great.
I was done with the backbraces. They cost a bomb. About a thousand for each one and they did no shit to help me. I was so so done. (And I highly suspect that they're still somewhere in my closet. Hidden away for god knows what reason. I'm not touching them ever again.)
I was glad for the operation because I got rid of the braces. But then another problem came. The scars don't heal. Because mom thought the decision of letting it heal naturally without stitches was supposedly 'better'. It became that way. She didn't do any research or ask the doctors for any implications and dad obviously don't know anything else apart from providing the money. They thought natural was good. Which is not always the case.
It was done. I'm going to live with those scars, made by bad choices for the rest of my life. Till now, I thought it was unfair. Why didn't anyone ask me? I was confused as to why I was leaking fluids randomly after the operation. No one had the decency to fill me in. Adults really gave too little credits to kids. It's my body, I deserve to know.
But well... what's done will remain done. I'm just gonna live with it. And hopefully get some laser treatment in hopes to remove it. It did shit to my confidence level. I can't even wear a bareback or swimsuit without feeling self-conscious.
What didn't exactly help me got through the low esteem period was mom's unfiltered mouth. Whenever I wore something that showed a little of my back, she will tell me to go change in that tone of hers which sounded similar to disgust. I don't know what to feel. Was it that bad? I changed anyway and actually resented myself for a while, blaming myself for the scar not healing right. I thought my skin was no good. Because I wasn't exactly good looking at that time (I thought I was ugly during puberty), I felt like shit. Literally every single day. Well... It got better when I grew up. I was mature enough to deal with curious questions and people wanting to see the scar.
One of my friends even told me that my scar was cool and she lifted up my shirt to see it. I was lying on my stomach anyway, and I don't know why I didn't bother stopping her that time. I was sensitive about it and I certainly didn't think it was cool at all, in fact I wanted to punch her for saying that, but I didn't and let her touch it, pretending to be all engrossed in the tv show. Maybe I was mature enough to just suck it up and deal with it like an adult would. I was 15, I believe.
Although I was told to reframe from strengous activities, I didn't give a damn. That stupid metal rod in me wasn't going to stop me from having fun. I danced, I did sports, I played like I was going to kill myself. I'm just gonna live. The funny thing was that whenever I walk through the security gates in a shop, it'll ring. The metal rod is kinda cool too. In a weird way.
I'll say my younger days will be much better if mom wasn't being such an insensitive person. She had the sensitivity of a wall. Just some inanimate object. Like a stone or a chair or a pebble.
When I cried because the braces made me uncomfortable, she told me to bear with it and on the air-con. When I had blisters because the braces rubbed too much against my skin, she didn't even look and said that it'll go away. When I told her in the mornings that I couldn't move properly and it affected me in school, she told me to think of a way myself. Actually, whenever I complained and cried about it, all she said was to think of a way myself. I'm so young. If I have a way out, I would have already done it. And what was I to do? I can't think of a way to deal with it myself, which is exactly why I asked for help. But no. Someone with the sensitivity of a wall wouldn't understand. Because she hasn't gone through it to know how it feels like.
I don't receive help. So I helped myself. (Ah, now I feel like crying all over again) I totally sucked it up, well, as much as I could. All I did was to wiggle out of the brace myself, take a few moments to cool down and then have her help me wear it back. Of course, I got a scolding whenever I did that, but whatever. I still did it a lot.
It eventually led to me learning how to do the straps of the brace myself and I did wore it back myself a few times. I wasn't a chore to do it, it was rather easy. But the feeling of putting on something which you've been trying to escape from... Let's just say that I'm... insane. Since I didn't need help anymore, not that I received any anyway, I just cope myself in my room all day to read books or play games. I don't need anyone anymore. (That explains the connection I have with my room. I can stay in my room forever provided I didn't need the toilet or starve to death)
Years later, when I was 16 or 17, I was totally over everything. My cousin developed the same problem. The only difference was, she had a resourceful and supportive mom. Her mom asked around and got introduced to this massage specialist who gives you back massages and apparently helps you to pull your spine. My cousin have to do a series of stretching exercises to strengthen the spine and go for massages but it worked. Her spine is alright now. It freaking worked. And it only took less than a year!
Honestly, I was bitter. I think I turned into a bittergourd. I kept thinking of how different my circumstances will be if mom had actually told my aunt about it. Maybe I would be doing exercises and going for massages instead of wearing those torturous plastics. Maybe I could have avoided the operation too. I'm still quite bitter about that. Even right now. I don't think it's something I can just forgive. Because of ignorance.
Another thing that I was bitter about. I'm not scared of pain. Literally, I'm a masochist. Not the sexual way, of course. I don't like inflicting pain for pleasure too. It's just the way it is. I remembered the doctor asking mom (right, ask mom but not me although it's my body) if they want to shave off the protruding part of my right shoulder blade. It is still protruding out now, which makes me look like I'm slouching, but actually I'm not. Mom said no, quite obviously. Cause the doctor said it's gonna be quite painful. I'm just like, come on, what else can be more painful than mental tortue for years. A little pain is nothing. I can already walk with a gaping wound, I'm sure a little pain on my shoulder is a peanut case.
I totally regret not having it done. I could have bear the pain than to suffer this mental torture. Mom really doesn't know her limits. Like I've said, because my shoulder is protruding out, I look like I'm slouching. And mom thinks that too. So she scolds me for slouching and asks why I'm not afraid of my condition worsening again. I'm just very maligned. Everytime I'll have to explain and say that I wasn't slouching, it's my shoulder.
And one day, I asked if she remembered the doctor asking her about fixing my shoulder blade. Guess what. She doesn't remember. I wish I can forget too. But I can never.
Not when she's constantly reminding me of things that I don't want to think about almost every other day. Till now, she's still complaining about my bad posture. I don't think this resentment will ever go away. I'll need at least an apology first. Haven't gotten it yet. /shrugs
There are many other conflicted feelings and implications but they're a little too personal to be shared. There're limits on how open I can be, you know. Haha
I feel like I can write a book on this and teach kids how to deal with this. So they can have it better than I did. And also to educate parents to be more wary of your child's feelings. Cause there're more internal battles inside than what they actually lead you on. And also, do not simply listen to doctors. They don't necessarily make the wisest decisions on earth.
Be strong, kids!
I got through it, you will too.
/shrugs
Goodbye~
Thursday, September 25, 2014
This is gonna be another rant! Be prepared!
I haven't posted in a long while, so I have lots of things on mind right now. Point is, I don't even have time to blog. After work, I go home so tired and done with life after speaking to tons of people in a single day. I don't even feel like talking anymore. It's bad for social life. I'm talking to irrelevant people and when there's a need to talk to people who I actually know, I'm just too tired. This job is bad. It makes you so done with life. I'm not even surprised at how uncommitted I am with this job. I've never been so eager waiting for work to end. Gosh. No wonder they pay high.
Back to main point.
I'm not a angsty person. Sure, I have my days too. I get irritated when someone even looks my way. I cry reading a stupid story. I get angry after one single comment. But woah. I have a limit man. I don't believe that I'm being angsty this time. I'm just exhausted. After all, I've been nothing short of nice and accommodating, tolerating and all I get in the end is just a slap in the face. Thank you, but no thank you.
I don't even know how to start.
What's the point of having your number in my phone when I don't even use it? Why give ourselves labels when we don't even prove it? It's all meaningless and words and thoughts will just remain as it is until something is done about it.
I'm not supposed to be upset cause it isn't even gonna affect me much. It isn't even my special day. I could jolly well not care and just let it rest. But I also want to do something in return. Arghh
I'm sick of people waiting for me to make the first move. I can't even take care of myself, I don't have time for you. I'm not desperate enough to send myself on my knees, trying so hard to please and hope I get something in return. If you're not trying, I'm not going to try too.
I rest my case.
I haven't posted in a long while, so I have lots of things on mind right now. Point is, I don't even have time to blog. After work, I go home so tired and done with life after speaking to tons of people in a single day. I don't even feel like talking anymore. It's bad for social life. I'm talking to irrelevant people and when there's a need to talk to people who I actually know, I'm just too tired. This job is bad. It makes you so done with life. I'm not even surprised at how uncommitted I am with this job. I've never been so eager waiting for work to end. Gosh. No wonder they pay high.
Back to main point.
I'm not a angsty person. Sure, I have my days too. I get irritated when someone even looks my way. I cry reading a stupid story. I get angry after one single comment. But woah. I have a limit man. I don't believe that I'm being angsty this time. I'm just exhausted. After all, I've been nothing short of nice and accommodating, tolerating and all I get in the end is just a slap in the face. Thank you, but no thank you.
I don't even know how to start.
What's the point of having your number in my phone when I don't even use it? Why give ourselves labels when we don't even prove it? It's all meaningless and words and thoughts will just remain as it is until something is done about it.
I'm not supposed to be upset cause it isn't even gonna affect me much. It isn't even my special day. I could jolly well not care and just let it rest. But I also want to do something in return. Arghh
I'm sick of people waiting for me to make the first move. I can't even take care of myself, I don't have time for you. I'm not desperate enough to send myself on my knees, trying so hard to please and hope I get something in return. If you're not trying, I'm not going to try too.
I rest my case.
Dream: Bad guy Kris.
The night before, I just told my friend that I didn't have dreams for a long time. And then, I had a rather creepy dream that night. Such jinx.
It started with me hiding underneath my window cause there was someone out to get me. I don't know why, but I do know that they're going to sell me off as a slave or prostitute. Scary. The scary men were waiting ouside and I was dumb to think that they were gone, so I peeped a little. And a shadow moved outside and I panicked cause I knew I was caught.
I rushed to my mom's room and hide behind her while the scary men came into my house cause my house door wasn't lock. Damn it. The scary men just wanted to get me and my mom was so freaking calm about it. I was so scared that I started whinning for Kris to come in, although he was the mastermind behind everything.
Kris did show up looking very sad for some reason, and he tried to convince me to go with him. Of course, I didn't want to. He even got his men to help me pack my clothes and all. Is that supposed to be nice or what? I mean, he's still gonna sell me off right?
I absolutely refused to go with him and he was being so nice about it, he decided to give me a day to calm down. And he stayed the night. So, I had to find extra blankets, pillows and whatnot for him. This stupid grown up man who is gonna sell me off. And he claimed the side of the bed which I always sleep on. Stupid Kris. My parents didn't even care that there's a grown ass man in the same bed as me. Weird.
I don't know what happened to me after that. Maybe I got sold off the next day or Kris just kidnapped me while I was asleep. /shrugs Too creepy to find out.
Yesterday was a good day.
I tried Sukiyaki for the first time and it didn't disappoint. I'm sated on meat now. And then a kbox session of 5hours. Felt like I held two concerts in one go. My throat is sore and raw but I'm sated too.
I found out that we're actually very different in preferences and personalities. Things that I like, she doesn't like, vice versa. Maybe that's why we got along well, cause there's nth much to fight over. It'll be nice if she goes to watch a horror movie with me one day. /hints But I'm not gonna be responsible for any trauma or mental counselling afterwards. Heh.
My throat hurts. And I'm cold. Am I sick or what?
Goodbye for now.
P.S. Secretly, I hate my part time job. I see ugly sides of people everyday. And how ungrateful humans can be. It's sickening. Well.
It started with me hiding underneath my window cause there was someone out to get me. I don't know why, but I do know that they're going to sell me off as a slave or prostitute. Scary. The scary men were waiting ouside and I was dumb to think that they were gone, so I peeped a little. And a shadow moved outside and I panicked cause I knew I was caught.
I rushed to my mom's room and hide behind her while the scary men came into my house cause my house door wasn't lock. Damn it. The scary men just wanted to get me and my mom was so freaking calm about it. I was so scared that I started whinning for Kris to come in, although he was the mastermind behind everything.
Kris did show up looking very sad for some reason, and he tried to convince me to go with him. Of course, I didn't want to. He even got his men to help me pack my clothes and all. Is that supposed to be nice or what? I mean, he's still gonna sell me off right?
I absolutely refused to go with him and he was being so nice about it, he decided to give me a day to calm down. And he stayed the night. So, I had to find extra blankets, pillows and whatnot for him. This stupid grown up man who is gonna sell me off. And he claimed the side of the bed which I always sleep on. Stupid Kris. My parents didn't even care that there's a grown ass man in the same bed as me. Weird.
I don't know what happened to me after that. Maybe I got sold off the next day or Kris just kidnapped me while I was asleep. /shrugs Too creepy to find out.
Yesterday was a good day.
I tried Sukiyaki for the first time and it didn't disappoint. I'm sated on meat now. And then a kbox session of 5hours. Felt like I held two concerts in one go. My throat is sore and raw but I'm sated too.
I found out that we're actually very different in preferences and personalities. Things that I like, she doesn't like, vice versa. Maybe that's why we got along well, cause there's nth much to fight over. It'll be nice if she goes to watch a horror movie with me one day. /hints But I'm not gonna be responsible for any trauma or mental counselling afterwards. Heh.
My throat hurts. And I'm cold. Am I sick or what?
Goodbye for now.
P.S. Secretly, I hate my part time job. I see ugly sides of people everyday. And how ungrateful humans can be. It's sickening. Well.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Rants.
Hey I'm back for another round of ranting.
I don't normally rant so much in a month, but it seems like stress caught up and I can't just brush it off and pretend nothing happened.
I might be sensitive over certain words, even meaningless things that people blabber unknowingly, but there is a saying- Words mean something, even if they're just useless blabbers. If they don't think that way, they wouldn't have said it. So, there's still some truth in it.
Yes yes. Whatever nonsense I'm going to write... is probably the same old things that I'm stress about most of the time. Can't I just get an instant relief already? There's a limitation to tolerance, you know.
I actually forgot half the things I've originally wanted to rant about. I don't know why my thoughts are more organised in the shower. But never mind...
So, my mom asked me- "Have you ever thought that there're still a lot of things that you haven't tried out/experienced yet?" In such a serious tone, I thought I was getting lucky suddenly. Wow, why is my mom concerned about my experiences in life? Does she think that I'm living too casually and wants a change? So happy at the chance to express myself, I jumped in and said yes.
And then, the bomb came. "So, you want to try washing your own clothes? Other people your age are already doing that. My cousin goes to work everyday and still comes home to wash her own clothes and wash the floor and do housework." The nag goes on.
Can I just simply say that my hopes were crushed?
I don't know about other people, but washing clothes and doing housework are certainly not part of my plans in the 'Things-to-do-before-I-die list'. Certainly not. Ever will be.
I mean, okay, I'm not exactly the most responsible or hardworking girl on Earth when it comes to household chores, but hey! Which sane 20 year old will want to include washing clothes as something they want to experience? COME ON. LOGIC PLEASE.
I was thinking of something along the lines of travelling the world, bungee jumping etc. You know things like this, sane 20 year olds who are about to venture into the actual world, will confirm think about. Household chores? Hmm. I think it's not too late if I start thinking about it when I get menopause. Yeah, not too late at all.
See my frustration? I don't know why my mom thinks it's normal to set doing household chores as a goal in life. THERE ARE BETTER THINGS OUT THERE THAN TO BECOME A SLAVE OR WASHING MACHINE. SERIOUSLY, LEAVE THE CLEANING TO THE WASHING MACHINE. IT'S A WASHING MACHINE FOR A REASON. YO, MOM.
Well... I should just stop thinking about this right? It's silly. Very very silly over something like this. Then again, if you're not in my position, you won't understand my concerns.
And I also do not understand why my mom wants me to wash clothes but absolutely refuses to let me cook. Hey, yo, look here. Cooking is more important right? So you won't starve to death. You won't die from dirty clothes piling up. At most, you just don't have clean clothes or underwear to wear. That's all.
Hey, but no. Cooking is dangerous. I might set the house on fire. Okay? So, I'm old enough to wash my own clothes but not to cook. I see the logic there. Totally. I can't drown myself in detergent while washing clothes right?
Honestly, I like cooking. It gives you the satisfaction of tasting your own creation. People who cook should understand this very well. But no. Cooking is dangerous. I will set the house on fire and the whole block. Everyone will die! I totally understand the worry. TOTALLY.
My parents don't know how to take care of the house. They think that washing the dishes, windows and floor is considered taking care. They're so wrong.
Frustrated.
I also don't know why the hell my parents are rushing me to apply for my uni program. You can't even give me a definite answer whether you have the capability to pay for the school fees and you want me to just go and study there? What if we run out of money? We loan from the bank? Or I sell my organs on the bloack market? Huh? Seriously. Adults are just. Just so. Hmm. And the point is, I do know you don't have the capability to pay up. For the whole two years. What can I say huh?
I have no rights in the house anyway. I should just cook and let it burn.
People always say, you shouldn't be with people who brings you down. It's not good for you. They will demotivate you so that you won't see the potential in yourself and then you won't be able to perform to your best. It's not looking down tho, it's a different kind.
Again. My mom. She. Umm. Well... isn't good for me. Quite honestly.
She never fails to make me feel like a useless piece of thing that doesn't deserve any praise or whatever. She blocks my potential. Completely. Since I was young and obedient and stupid.
When I was way younger, in primary school, I liked performing a lot. I joined CCAs like choir, band and even this skipping club which often have special performances on stage. I was a shy kid but I like the feeling of being on stage. It makes me feel special.
I asked to join a dance class. I got enrolled, not into the hip hop class that I wanted, but a Chinese dance class which was an absolute waste of time. All we did was stretch. Which till now, I can't do a proper split. So great.
I tried asking for the same thing few years later. But no. Mom said I didn't have the time (studies and more studies) and dance is only an option. Not important. Fine. So be it. I wanted to join dance in secondary but I had an operation not long ago and I was taken out even before I could do the tryouts. Life is unfair.
I like dancing. It makes me happy. And unnecessarily confident.
I joined band because I like music. When the whole band plays a song together and it actually sounds good, you get satisfied. Like wow, how can 40 people play in harmony together? It brings people together when we play. It's like, there's no differences between instruments, everyone sound good and the time spent is worth it. I'm sure everyone felt that way. I used to loath going to practice because it's a burden and it lasts too long. But after every performance, I feel like I can burst. Feelin like 'Wow. We did it. Practice paid off. Finally.' And everyone look good in the uniform too. Bonus.
Apart from the clarinet, I can safely say that I'm not good at any other instruments. I learnt piano when I was 4/5 but I stopped when I moved to Singapore. Can I just say that Singapore ruined my life? Hah. We couldn't afford a piano in our house, my parents said. I call bullshit, I own an electric piano right now, your arguments are invalid. Playing by ear and learning from tutorials takes a lot of time, but I'll find a way out.
Because I was young and I didn't know how to fight for my rights, many opportunities were lost. I could have been a grade 5 or 6 like my cousins if I've continued learning. But no, I stopped at grade 1. Sad reality. What the hell is grade one man? I can't even play smoothly without thinking where to place my fingers next. Damn.
I guess I just like performing or things that are music related. I wanted to learn the drums. Mom said no, it's a boys thing. Fine. I didn't get to learn my drums. But I went over to my friend's house and tried it out before. Let's just say that I can read the score and play a simple bar. Imagine if I actually went for lessons. I just made myself depressed.
Then, I wanted to get a flute. But, of course, no. Because I've only tried it once. During band practice. With my friend's flute. Secretly. It wasn't hard but I still have a lot to learn. Mom said no. I'm just wanting to learn on impulse. Well, let me tell you, it wasn't an impulse. I get sad when I see people playing the flute because that should be me too. I guess kids don't have a lot of say in life huh? All you have to do is just study and get good results.
I wanted to learn how to play a guitar too. But honestly, out of all the instruments that I've tried, guitar is the hardest for me. My fingers hurt too much and I'm not coordinated enough to strum properly. But I got a guitar. I don't know. Why do I get to do things my way when it's the wrong choice? Such an irony really. What should I do?
This is why till now, I haven't mastered anything. Who can I blame it on? I'm keen to learn but denied the chance to. Now that I can make my own choices, I don't have time or extra cash. Can I blame someone for this? I'll seriously go crazy.
Since I get a choice, I'm learning dance my own way. Through videos. Just mimicking dancers' moves. Not the real thing but close enough. Memorising steps and going through tutorials one by one. I still can't do a full split (although I get really really close on good days) and I don't know how to moonwalk or do a proper arm wave or do popping or locking or whatever dance terms exist out there. But I'm learning. Although I don't have the space to do so. I mostly just dance in my room. Like a pathetic closet dancer. Well, I'm not a very good dancer, but I'm not bad. I memorise dance steps fast.
What was my point again? Why am I suddenly bragging away?
Ah, yes. People blocking my potential and choices in life. Yes. Yes.
I ought to keep away. But you can never escape your own family right?
Waves of tsunami depression heading your way.
Anyway, saying so much. It's not like anything will chance if I don't do anything.
But what can I do?
Run away?
Seriously. There is no solution to this. Talking doesn't work since no one listens.
Leaving is the only way I can think of. But it's also an act of cowardice.
Nothing can be done isn't it?
So, I'm just ranting away.
Tomorrow, I'll still be thinking the same thoughts.
Wondering what the hell I've been doing.
Wishing for an escape from this endless nonsense in life.
Because I only live as Trecia once, I need to make the most out of this life.
What is this man.
People have mid-life crisis.
I have this new disease called 'old-enough-but-still-too-young-crisis-that-causes-depression'
Why does no one believe me when I say I'm going to have depression soon?
(I think I already have a mild one. Everyone does.)
Sometimes I think I don't mind dying tomorrow because I'm not going to be able to make a difference in the world, or even make a name for myself. And then another part of me says shut up, I'm young and there is still time.
This part of me argues and says that why live when you're not even living as yourself, but the better part of me insists that the good times will come soon if I endure the tough periods.
It's tiring.
Good night.
(P.S. I had a nice day at work today. My colleagues are nice. And most of the callers are polite. Today is considered a good day then. My butt hurts from sitting but it's okay. I have a rather small butt, I can afford for it to get fat. I will go jogging tomorrow morning so I can't die yet. I also haven't mastered the Rumpumpum dance. Must live!)
^ ^
I don't normally rant so much in a month, but it seems like stress caught up and I can't just brush it off and pretend nothing happened.
I might be sensitive over certain words, even meaningless things that people blabber unknowingly, but there is a saying- Words mean something, even if they're just useless blabbers. If they don't think that way, they wouldn't have said it. So, there's still some truth in it.
Yes yes. Whatever nonsense I'm going to write... is probably the same old things that I'm stress about most of the time. Can't I just get an instant relief already? There's a limitation to tolerance, you know.
I actually forgot half the things I've originally wanted to rant about. I don't know why my thoughts are more organised in the shower. But never mind...
So, my mom asked me- "Have you ever thought that there're still a lot of things that you haven't tried out/experienced yet?" In such a serious tone, I thought I was getting lucky suddenly. Wow, why is my mom concerned about my experiences in life? Does she think that I'm living too casually and wants a change? So happy at the chance to express myself, I jumped in and said yes.
And then, the bomb came. "So, you want to try washing your own clothes? Other people your age are already doing that. My cousin goes to work everyday and still comes home to wash her own clothes and wash the floor and do housework." The nag goes on.
Can I just simply say that my hopes were crushed?
I don't know about other people, but washing clothes and doing housework are certainly not part of my plans in the 'Things-to-do-before-I-die list'. Certainly not. Ever will be.
I mean, okay, I'm not exactly the most responsible or hardworking girl on Earth when it comes to household chores, but hey! Which sane 20 year old will want to include washing clothes as something they want to experience? COME ON. LOGIC PLEASE.
I was thinking of something along the lines of travelling the world, bungee jumping etc. You know things like this, sane 20 year olds who are about to venture into the actual world, will confirm think about. Household chores? Hmm. I think it's not too late if I start thinking about it when I get menopause. Yeah, not too late at all.
See my frustration? I don't know why my mom thinks it's normal to set doing household chores as a goal in life. THERE ARE BETTER THINGS OUT THERE THAN TO BECOME A SLAVE OR WASHING MACHINE. SERIOUSLY, LEAVE THE CLEANING TO THE WASHING MACHINE. IT'S A WASHING MACHINE FOR A REASON. YO, MOM.
Well... I should just stop thinking about this right? It's silly. Very very silly over something like this. Then again, if you're not in my position, you won't understand my concerns.
And I also do not understand why my mom wants me to wash clothes but absolutely refuses to let me cook. Hey, yo, look here. Cooking is more important right? So you won't starve to death. You won't die from dirty clothes piling up. At most, you just don't have clean clothes or underwear to wear. That's all.
Hey, but no. Cooking is dangerous. I might set the house on fire. Okay? So, I'm old enough to wash my own clothes but not to cook. I see the logic there. Totally. I can't drown myself in detergent while washing clothes right?
Honestly, I like cooking. It gives you the satisfaction of tasting your own creation. People who cook should understand this very well. But no. Cooking is dangerous. I will set the house on fire and the whole block. Everyone will die! I totally understand the worry. TOTALLY.
My parents don't know how to take care of the house. They think that washing the dishes, windows and floor is considered taking care. They're so wrong.
Frustrated.
I also don't know why the hell my parents are rushing me to apply for my uni program. You can't even give me a definite answer whether you have the capability to pay for the school fees and you want me to just go and study there? What if we run out of money? We loan from the bank? Or I sell my organs on the bloack market? Huh? Seriously. Adults are just. Just so. Hmm. And the point is, I do know you don't have the capability to pay up. For the whole two years. What can I say huh?
I have no rights in the house anyway. I should just cook and let it burn.
People always say, you shouldn't be with people who brings you down. It's not good for you. They will demotivate you so that you won't see the potential in yourself and then you won't be able to perform to your best. It's not looking down tho, it's a different kind.
Again. My mom. She. Umm. Well... isn't good for me. Quite honestly.
She never fails to make me feel like a useless piece of thing that doesn't deserve any praise or whatever. She blocks my potential. Completely. Since I was young and obedient and stupid.
When I was way younger, in primary school, I liked performing a lot. I joined CCAs like choir, band and even this skipping club which often have special performances on stage. I was a shy kid but I like the feeling of being on stage. It makes me feel special.
I asked to join a dance class. I got enrolled, not into the hip hop class that I wanted, but a Chinese dance class which was an absolute waste of time. All we did was stretch. Which till now, I can't do a proper split. So great.
I tried asking for the same thing few years later. But no. Mom said I didn't have the time (studies and more studies) and dance is only an option. Not important. Fine. So be it. I wanted to join dance in secondary but I had an operation not long ago and I was taken out even before I could do the tryouts. Life is unfair.
I like dancing. It makes me happy. And unnecessarily confident.
I joined band because I like music. When the whole band plays a song together and it actually sounds good, you get satisfied. Like wow, how can 40 people play in harmony together? It brings people together when we play. It's like, there's no differences between instruments, everyone sound good and the time spent is worth it. I'm sure everyone felt that way. I used to loath going to practice because it's a burden and it lasts too long. But after every performance, I feel like I can burst. Feelin like 'Wow. We did it. Practice paid off. Finally.' And everyone look good in the uniform too. Bonus.
Apart from the clarinet, I can safely say that I'm not good at any other instruments. I learnt piano when I was 4/5 but I stopped when I moved to Singapore. Can I just say that Singapore ruined my life? Hah. We couldn't afford a piano in our house, my parents said. I call bullshit, I own an electric piano right now, your arguments are invalid. Playing by ear and learning from tutorials takes a lot of time, but I'll find a way out.
Because I was young and I didn't know how to fight for my rights, many opportunities were lost. I could have been a grade 5 or 6 like my cousins if I've continued learning. But no, I stopped at grade 1. Sad reality. What the hell is grade one man? I can't even play smoothly without thinking where to place my fingers next. Damn.
I guess I just like performing or things that are music related. I wanted to learn the drums. Mom said no, it's a boys thing. Fine. I didn't get to learn my drums. But I went over to my friend's house and tried it out before. Let's just say that I can read the score and play a simple bar. Imagine if I actually went for lessons. I just made myself depressed.
Then, I wanted to get a flute. But, of course, no. Because I've only tried it once. During band practice. With my friend's flute. Secretly. It wasn't hard but I still have a lot to learn. Mom said no. I'm just wanting to learn on impulse. Well, let me tell you, it wasn't an impulse. I get sad when I see people playing the flute because that should be me too. I guess kids don't have a lot of say in life huh? All you have to do is just study and get good results.
I wanted to learn how to play a guitar too. But honestly, out of all the instruments that I've tried, guitar is the hardest for me. My fingers hurt too much and I'm not coordinated enough to strum properly. But I got a guitar. I don't know. Why do I get to do things my way when it's the wrong choice? Such an irony really. What should I do?
This is why till now, I haven't mastered anything. Who can I blame it on? I'm keen to learn but denied the chance to. Now that I can make my own choices, I don't have time or extra cash. Can I blame someone for this? I'll seriously go crazy.
Since I get a choice, I'm learning dance my own way. Through videos. Just mimicking dancers' moves. Not the real thing but close enough. Memorising steps and going through tutorials one by one. I still can't do a full split (although I get really really close on good days) and I don't know how to moonwalk or do a proper arm wave or do popping or locking or whatever dance terms exist out there. But I'm learning. Although I don't have the space to do so. I mostly just dance in my room. Like a pathetic closet dancer. Well, I'm not a very good dancer, but I'm not bad. I memorise dance steps fast.
What was my point again? Why am I suddenly bragging away?
Ah, yes. People blocking my potential and choices in life. Yes. Yes.
I ought to keep away. But you can never escape your own family right?
Waves of tsunami depression heading your way.
Anyway, saying so much. It's not like anything will chance if I don't do anything.
But what can I do?
Run away?
Seriously. There is no solution to this. Talking doesn't work since no one listens.
Leaving is the only way I can think of. But it's also an act of cowardice.
Nothing can be done isn't it?
So, I'm just ranting away.
Tomorrow, I'll still be thinking the same thoughts.
Wondering what the hell I've been doing.
Wishing for an escape from this endless nonsense in life.
Because I only live as Trecia once, I need to make the most out of this life.
What is this man.
People have mid-life crisis.
I have this new disease called 'old-enough-but-still-too-young-crisis-that-causes-depression'
Why does no one believe me when I say I'm going to have depression soon?
(I think I already have a mild one. Everyone does.)
Sometimes I think I don't mind dying tomorrow because I'm not going to be able to make a difference in the world, or even make a name for myself. And then another part of me says shut up, I'm young and there is still time.
This part of me argues and says that why live when you're not even living as yourself, but the better part of me insists that the good times will come soon if I endure the tough periods.
It's tiring.
Good night.
(P.S. I had a nice day at work today. My colleagues are nice. And most of the callers are polite. Today is considered a good day then. My butt hurts from sitting but it's okay. I have a rather small butt, I can afford for it to get fat. I will go jogging tomorrow morning so I can't die yet. I also haven't mastered the Rumpumpum dance. Must live!)
^ ^
Saturday, August 9, 2014
National Day.
Today, it's National Day. Singapore's birthday. It's a happy occasion. Birthdays are supposed to be happy. Then why do I feel all bitter?
Maybe it's not the day that matters but the happenings, but, it's a public holiday. And it's National Day, I'm a Singaporean so I suppose it's kinda my birthday too.
I don't feel exactly proud. Or happy. Or blessed.
Maybe I ought to be satisfied with what I already have. Singapore's a safe country with tight security and fast rules. The only things that are not safe are all kept within closed doors.
What am I saying this time round? I don't know too. This is what came to my mind right now. Perhaps I get all emotional and sensitive at night when I pause in my steps. Seriously, what is wrong with me.
I always thought that the only things that can make me stress are things that should matter to me. For example, my future, my health and such things. But no. Here I am, being all stressed up on studies and all sorts of things that shouldn't matter to me.
Education is important. Hell yeah. But you don't always see millionaires being the most charitable people out there. University graduates aren't necessarily the smartest people. CEOs aren't the most forgivable people. And being leaders doesn't mean that they can lead others. Plenty of examples yet lots of people still don't understand.
You can be anything you are, holding the highest scholar certificate the universe can offer. But you forget, you're only human. Human don't live to study and compare IQs. Human live to love. To give and receive.
Who am I kidding? In 2014, humans live to buy things with the money they earn. They earn the money by climbing higher on the ladder. They climb the ladder by crushing whoever they think is not unworthy. The unworthy ones go on to crush someone even lower. And it goes on, because there will always be someone lower than you.
Why am I saying this again?
Ah yes. There is no point.
No point in acting like a saint and saying all these when I'll just wake up in the morning and do the exact same things that disgust me. And I will do these things in the future too.
What do I want to do in the future? Well, I don't know. Maybe work in an office with regular working hours and then head home. Repeat this for the rest of my life.
Is this what I want? No.
Can I do anything about this? No.
Then what's the point? There's no point.
Why do teachers in school like to ask "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Because it's stupid. You don't always get to do whatever you want. It doesn't matter what you want to do. Because your parents will decide for you. Society will choose your path. If you're lucky enough, you get to fulfil your wish. If you're not, then you'll be just like the majority. No questions asked.
Oh right. I'm ranting like this because I honestly do not want to study anymore. I don't mean it in a bad way. I just don't see the point. So, I get a degree and many more companies are willing to accept me. Then what? I interview for a job and I get the job and I report to work on Mondays. I get my hard earned salary and I spend it on food, transport and other stuff. I do this for the rest of my life until I get retrenched, retire or die. Is that it? I don't think so. It sounds so sad.
I'm not someone to simply live life like this. It's too... meaningless. I want to have fun. I want to experience new things and see things for myself. It might be tough but it makes me satisfied. I want that sense of achievement. I don't want a routine. I don't like routine. I want to wake up everyday with something new to do. It's like starting over each day. You become a baby once again and you learn again. I want something like that.
Then again, who am I kidding?
My parents obviously just want me to be a good girl just like everyone else. Go to work and go home. Bring back the money. Get rich if that's possible. Find a rich husband. Get married and have kids. No. That doesn't work for me. Not at all.
I'm just so frustrated and jealous when I see people fulfilling their dreams. It's like I'm not even given a chance to try for it. In a way, I'm caged up. Within the confines of unwanted security and safety. Damn it. I want to be in danger. I want to just go out there and see where I can go next.
Urgh. Is this really the age whereby I'm supposed to be thinking of such things everyday? Because it's not a nice feeling. This is mental breakdown. Like 멘붕(Men Boong).
Goodbye.
Happy Birthday Singaporeans.
Maybe it's not the day that matters but the happenings, but, it's a public holiday. And it's National Day, I'm a Singaporean so I suppose it's kinda my birthday too.
I don't feel exactly proud. Or happy. Or blessed.
Maybe I ought to be satisfied with what I already have. Singapore's a safe country with tight security and fast rules. The only things that are not safe are all kept within closed doors.
What am I saying this time round? I don't know too. This is what came to my mind right now. Perhaps I get all emotional and sensitive at night when I pause in my steps. Seriously, what is wrong with me.
I always thought that the only things that can make me stress are things that should matter to me. For example, my future, my health and such things. But no. Here I am, being all stressed up on studies and all sorts of things that shouldn't matter to me.
Education is important. Hell yeah. But you don't always see millionaires being the most charitable people out there. University graduates aren't necessarily the smartest people. CEOs aren't the most forgivable people. And being leaders doesn't mean that they can lead others. Plenty of examples yet lots of people still don't understand.
You can be anything you are, holding the highest scholar certificate the universe can offer. But you forget, you're only human. Human don't live to study and compare IQs. Human live to love. To give and receive.
Who am I kidding? In 2014, humans live to buy things with the money they earn. They earn the money by climbing higher on the ladder. They climb the ladder by crushing whoever they think is not unworthy. The unworthy ones go on to crush someone even lower. And it goes on, because there will always be someone lower than you.
Why am I saying this again?
Ah yes. There is no point.
No point in acting like a saint and saying all these when I'll just wake up in the morning and do the exact same things that disgust me. And I will do these things in the future too.
What do I want to do in the future? Well, I don't know. Maybe work in an office with regular working hours and then head home. Repeat this for the rest of my life.
Is this what I want? No.
Can I do anything about this? No.
Then what's the point? There's no point.
Why do teachers in school like to ask "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Because it's stupid. You don't always get to do whatever you want. It doesn't matter what you want to do. Because your parents will decide for you. Society will choose your path. If you're lucky enough, you get to fulfil your wish. If you're not, then you'll be just like the majority. No questions asked.
Oh right. I'm ranting like this because I honestly do not want to study anymore. I don't mean it in a bad way. I just don't see the point. So, I get a degree and many more companies are willing to accept me. Then what? I interview for a job and I get the job and I report to work on Mondays. I get my hard earned salary and I spend it on food, transport and other stuff. I do this for the rest of my life until I get retrenched, retire or die. Is that it? I don't think so. It sounds so sad.
I'm not someone to simply live life like this. It's too... meaningless. I want to have fun. I want to experience new things and see things for myself. It might be tough but it makes me satisfied. I want that sense of achievement. I don't want a routine. I don't like routine. I want to wake up everyday with something new to do. It's like starting over each day. You become a baby once again and you learn again. I want something like that.
Then again, who am I kidding?
My parents obviously just want me to be a good girl just like everyone else. Go to work and go home. Bring back the money. Get rich if that's possible. Find a rich husband. Get married and have kids. No. That doesn't work for me. Not at all.
I'm just so frustrated and jealous when I see people fulfilling their dreams. It's like I'm not even given a chance to try for it. In a way, I'm caged up. Within the confines of unwanted security and safety. Damn it. I want to be in danger. I want to just go out there and see where I can go next.
Urgh. Is this really the age whereby I'm supposed to be thinking of such things everyday? Because it's not a nice feeling. This is mental breakdown. Like 멘붕(Men Boong).
Goodbye.
Happy Birthday Singaporeans.
Friday, August 8, 2014
The brutality of life
Two posts in a day. Hahaha I must be really doing some serious thinking right now. Ahhhh, as expected, it's much more comfortable typing in English. Chinese is just so time consuming and confusing.
Now, I'm just gonna rant about stupid things before going into serious mode again. So, let's start with Breadtalk. I just love their bread! I'm not someone who likes eating bread but really, their bread is the best! I can eat them everyday. Even my mom approves of them. You can leave the bread overnight and it won't turn hard or soggy. Totally awesome. Alright, someone out there, hire me as Breadtalk's spokesperson now! I can go on and on about the bread. Seriously, BREAD. Pudding bread is so tasty, whoever that hasn't tried it yet, I can only say that you're missing out on the delicious things in life. This is serious issue. Hah!
Pictures are out for EOY2014. It's in my FB. My mom is in love with my pictures. Guess I can take Yijing and my makeup skills for that. And she tells me to perm my hair like the wig. I think I should too! It's too pretty! I totally will. Someday. When I have time. Yeah man. I'm gonna buy extensions or maybe get a dip dye cause I have this sudden urge to. It's like those moments where you just wake up in the morning, all sleepy and lost, and then you have this urge to get something done. It's totally how I get my extra piercings. Few days ago, I just wake up and decided that I will get some colours on my hair. Yeah, and I'm going to do exactly that. It's like a hunch, if I don't do it, I feel like I will regret. So, why not? I'll take the chance. So far, my piercings are awesome. No regrets.
I ordered clothes on Taobao again! I'm developing a bad online shopping habit. I should stop. Although the clothes are cheap, they accumulate and... yeah. I'm earning now, but I shouldn't spend it so excessively right? But I want new clothes too! Since I dress up almost everyday... Argh. So tough being a girl. Girls are naturally vain. I'm becoming vain. Can someone out there sponsor me already? I need my own stylist.
Serious mode on..
I've been meaning to talk about this long ago, but I don't really want to open up my own wound. Today... well, no specific reason to do something silly like this, but I'm just rather free and I happen to remember and I totally want to dig my own grave, so here I go.
The meaning of EXes.
You don't need them in your life anymore. That's why there are exfriends, exboyfriends, exneighbour, exclassmates. Because you don't need them and you don't intend to keep them. It's sad to have such a status. Nobody wants to be forgotten and abandoned right?
If they're to remain in your life, they can be an exneighbour but you will introduce as your friend, or once exclassmate but now boyfriend. But no, with that darn ex in front, you're just history automatically. Do you get me?
It reminds me of my ex, somehow. (I secretly hope that he isn't reading this)
We could have lasted for very long if our dynamics were right. He's very sweet at times and a bomb at other times. I might have been a little stubborn and cold too. Guess it really works both ways. We both don't give in. And that's why he's an ex, not the present.
Maybe if we meet now, things would have been different. Because I'm different. And he's different too. Alright, maybe we will still not match after all. What am I trying to say.
There is a saying: If you still care about your ex and want to be friends, it's either you're still in love or never in love.
I beg to differ.
Maybe I'm weird, but it's really not right to think that way. Although he's the past, as an acquaintance or maybe the me who still remembers, I will like to see him happy and well, or rather alive and kicking. Yes, we might have some differences and we fight and disagree, but he's still someone who created memories that can never be deleted and he once made me happy. It's rather cruel to completely erase someone isn't it? We tend to forget but we can never erase.
Maybe I wouldn't even acknowledge him when I see him, but it's still good to know that he's living. I don't know why some people curse or hate or try to kill their ex when they break up, but that's just wrong. I know that I sometimes say that my ex made me so so angry, but when I clear my head and calm down, I'm actually not feeling anything.
People make wrong choices and we learn from the mistakes. Because we were once together, it taughtus not to find someone like that in the future. So... being together, in a way, is still kind of meaningful. I don't think it's a waste of time, it's just an experience, not entirely bad.
Perhaps it's just me being overly optimistic about life. (Such an irony as compared to my Chinese post which is full of sad bullcrap)
In any way, I'm glad we were together for a period and I'm happily single now. Although it really gets lonely sometimes. And no, I don't want to get back together with him. Don't misunderstand. Discussion closed.
Talking about this, there's this ex-friend too. Perhaps, ex-best friend. We were young, we were foolish and childish and things didn't go so well. I was an introvert, people thought I don't have feelings (that was so stupid on their part) and when they found out that I do, they were shocked. I mean, come on, I'm human too. But it's fine.
This friend, I used to bully. Alright, I was being an idiot and I didn't know why I did that. I didn't think she deserved the bully although she was rather mean to me, but there were enjoyable moments as well. I just don't know. I was too young that time. And an idiot too. Not exactly the smartest moment of my life.
I didn't like the fact that she wanted to outshine me. I didn't shine much, or at least I didn't think I did. I just hated the fact that there was unnecessary competition between us. I didn't try hard to compete although I'm not fond of losing, but she made it obvious. I didn't care about such things that time and I think I still don't care now. Thinking back on it made me kinda sick actually. If you want to win so badly and make me feel like a loser, so be it. You're not worth my time.
We could have been friends even till now if she was a little more... accommodating. She wants things her way. Sometimes I relent, sometimes I don't. I think I gave in most of the time and I secretly hated it. It's not like I didn't have a mindset of my own, I just found it redundant to force something on someone who was so self-absorbed. Maybe things will be much better if I just open my mouth and speak up. But I didn't. God knows why. Guess we just weren't meant to be friends.
I was sorry for joining in the bully, but at the same time, I'm not. Part of me thought that she kinda earned it because of how she roll, but I still know that it's the wrong thing to do. Bully is never right, no matter what the reason is.
This is also why I tried to make it up to her by distancing myself from the bullies, who happened to be my closest friends, and spend more time with her, hanging out with her, making her talk to me more. It didn't go exactly as planned.
We were fine on the surface, but deep down, there was still resentment in her, a wall she didn't exactly demolish. It made her wary of me. She didn't completely trust me. I guess that's also the reason why she was so defensive and mean towards me.
Because she trusted me and I betrayed that trust, now, I can never get it back. It's punishment in a subtle way. I shouldn't complain. (Why am I so childish last time? Oh god.)
I used to resent her too. I lost my close friends in order to make it up to her. It hurts seeing your close friends hanging out without including you, and then you watch yourself slowly turning into a stranger. Someone who didn't matter anymore. And it hurts most when I remember us sharing the same dream and promising that we will fulfil it together. Guess that was just the kid in us talking. Reality is so cruel. And so were the people who left me behind. Who can I blame it on?
Anyway, she was mean to me although I was probably the only few who cared about her. I tried hard to make her happy. At least I thought I did. But well, the wound never did went away. She was hurt deeply, I think. Deep enough to not let her see that she was also hurting others.
She protected herself well, held herself high and made sure that no one else could surpass her. When someone did, she would push them down. That was what happened to me. If I was good, she had to be the best. There was no exception.
She liked being blunt and honest. But she missed the part where being brutally blunt can also hurt someone's feelings. She spoke what was on her mind and she failed to see many things. This was what made me angry. I was no saint but I watched my words. She had no right to bring me down like that. It wasn't fair.
I hung onto this kinda one-sided friendship, forcing myself to be more interesting and funny because she thought that I was a boring person. She said it to my face, it hurts. I don't know if she noticed my silence after that, but she said nothing.
I forced myself to be more open with her, when I'm a person who is reserved with my own feelings, just because she wanted me to be completely honest. Guess I became an easy target with my shield off and it triggered an attack.
I pretended to be the carefree person she wanted to believe, because she couldn't take on anymore burden that was not hers to carry. I took on hers and became her listening ear. I didn't find a set of ears that belonged to me.
I was to contact her first, because she needed it, and I did. For a while, I initiated hang outs and friendly dates, until I stopped doing that and realised that she never intended to return the favour.
Just like that, I stopped trying and she didn't try, so we just lost contact. It only took a few short months for us to completely stop speaking to each other and it's just sad how this tiring friendship merely ended like that.
Did I mentioned that there were four people in the clique? Not just me and her? I was expected to make the effort to contact her like I was a desperate puppy begging for its owner's acceptance while she go on and make plans with other people in the clique. Willingly. Not caring if they initiate anything. Hell, I didn't sign up for this. So, I gave up quickly.
Maybe it's a pity. Maybe it's a relief. I thought, why do I have to keep toruring myself like this? Sure, I was happy when we hung out together, but after that, what was the exact meaning of this? Was I just someone who was obliged to accompany her like a lost puppy just because I made a mistake or was I someone who was considered a friend whereby we can share moments together? I don't know and I don't think I will ever want to find out. The truth hurts and I'm not prepared to get hurt again.
I used to say, I'm a loner. And it's true. Before I went to Poly, I didn't have any friends. I stuck to a few from my childhood and I can't even remember how I survived the few months of being alone. (Ah, I feel like I'm gonna tear up. Stupid, stupid.)
I don't know if I should be happy that she was an ex-friend. Couldn't figure out if the times we spent together was geniune or not. What if it was all just a pretense?
I knew she talked about me behind my back, and I played a fool. I'm such a coward really.
It's been years since this whole fiasco and I still remembered every single thing that happened. I'm not angry or that hurt. I don't think I really want such a person in my life too. I just... don't know why I subjected myself to such a thing in the past.
I wish we would meet someday, and maybe I will laugh in her face for abandoning me the way she did. Because I'm sure I've already grown into the kind of friend she was looking for. Not exactly the perfect friend that someone can have, but at least a much better person now. Pity she didn't have the patience right? Oh god, I sound so mean right now. I better slap myself.
Despite saying this much, stupid me still goes to her blog to read up on her life, because one part of me that existed in my memories is curious on her wellbeing. Totally digging my own grave. What am I going to do with myself? Then, I get all worried when I find out that she isn't doing so well emotionally and then I reminded myself that she isn't my concern anymore. And then I feel proud because I have true friends now and she still hasn't found any. Then, I kick myself for feeling this way because it's just too mean. And this cycle continues until I forget.
I'm kinda disappointed because I really like her. Not the times when she's being mean, quite obviously, but she's quite good company sometimes. Okay, I still resent the times where she called me ugly cause that really did something to my ego and confidence, cause I thought she was pretty and you know how crushed you'll feel when someone supposedly pretty called you ugly but it's okay now. I'm pretty in my own way, whatever. I'm not ugly. Never ugly. I'm sooo sooo pretty. Drop dead gorgeous. (Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, Trecia...)
This dumb long rant about two people who used to be so important to me. It's funny how both of them didn't manage to stay. Thank you for being part of my life, and now, you two will officially have the darn status of the EX.
I might sound like a victim and you will probably think that I'm trying to victimise myself. But in actual reality, we were just victims of the brutality of something called life.
Sitting in my own grave wondering what the hell did I just do to myself,
but at the same time I got something off my chest and I feel like a butterfly now,
with all the love,
Trecia.
Now, I'm just gonna rant about stupid things before going into serious mode again. So, let's start with Breadtalk. I just love their bread! I'm not someone who likes eating bread but really, their bread is the best! I can eat them everyday. Even my mom approves of them. You can leave the bread overnight and it won't turn hard or soggy. Totally awesome. Alright, someone out there, hire me as Breadtalk's spokesperson now! I can go on and on about the bread. Seriously, BREAD. Pudding bread is so tasty, whoever that hasn't tried it yet, I can only say that you're missing out on the delicious things in life. This is serious issue. Hah!
Pictures are out for EOY2014. It's in my FB. My mom is in love with my pictures. Guess I can take Yijing and my makeup skills for that. And she tells me to perm my hair like the wig. I think I should too! It's too pretty! I totally will. Someday. When I have time. Yeah man. I'm gonna buy extensions or maybe get a dip dye cause I have this sudden urge to. It's like those moments where you just wake up in the morning, all sleepy and lost, and then you have this urge to get something done. It's totally how I get my extra piercings. Few days ago, I just wake up and decided that I will get some colours on my hair. Yeah, and I'm going to do exactly that. It's like a hunch, if I don't do it, I feel like I will regret. So, why not? I'll take the chance. So far, my piercings are awesome. No regrets.
I ordered clothes on Taobao again! I'm developing a bad online shopping habit. I should stop. Although the clothes are cheap, they accumulate and... yeah. I'm earning now, but I shouldn't spend it so excessively right? But I want new clothes too! Since I dress up almost everyday... Argh. So tough being a girl. Girls are naturally vain. I'm becoming vain. Can someone out there sponsor me already? I need my own stylist.
Serious mode on..
I've been meaning to talk about this long ago, but I don't really want to open up my own wound. Today... well, no specific reason to do something silly like this, but I'm just rather free and I happen to remember and I totally want to dig my own grave, so here I go.
The meaning of EXes.
You don't need them in your life anymore. That's why there are exfriends, exboyfriends, exneighbour, exclassmates. Because you don't need them and you don't intend to keep them. It's sad to have such a status. Nobody wants to be forgotten and abandoned right?
If they're to remain in your life, they can be an exneighbour but you will introduce as your friend, or once exclassmate but now boyfriend. But no, with that darn ex in front, you're just history automatically. Do you get me?
It reminds me of my ex, somehow. (I secretly hope that he isn't reading this)
We could have lasted for very long if our dynamics were right. He's very sweet at times and a bomb at other times. I might have been a little stubborn and cold too. Guess it really works both ways. We both don't give in. And that's why he's an ex, not the present.
Maybe if we meet now, things would have been different. Because I'm different. And he's different too. Alright, maybe we will still not match after all. What am I trying to say.
There is a saying: If you still care about your ex and want to be friends, it's either you're still in love or never in love.
I beg to differ.
Maybe I'm weird, but it's really not right to think that way. Although he's the past, as an acquaintance or maybe the me who still remembers, I will like to see him happy and well, or rather alive and kicking. Yes, we might have some differences and we fight and disagree, but he's still someone who created memories that can never be deleted and he once made me happy. It's rather cruel to completely erase someone isn't it? We tend to forget but we can never erase.
Maybe I wouldn't even acknowledge him when I see him, but it's still good to know that he's living. I don't know why some people curse or hate or try to kill their ex when they break up, but that's just wrong. I know that I sometimes say that my ex made me so so angry, but when I clear my head and calm down, I'm actually not feeling anything.
People make wrong choices and we learn from the mistakes. Because we were once together, it taughtus not to find someone like that in the future. So... being together, in a way, is still kind of meaningful. I don't think it's a waste of time, it's just an experience, not entirely bad.
Perhaps it's just me being overly optimistic about life. (Such an irony as compared to my Chinese post which is full of sad bullcrap)
In any way, I'm glad we were together for a period and I'm happily single now. Although it really gets lonely sometimes. And no, I don't want to get back together with him. Don't misunderstand. Discussion closed.
Talking about this, there's this ex-friend too. Perhaps, ex-best friend. We were young, we were foolish and childish and things didn't go so well. I was an introvert, people thought I don't have feelings (that was so stupid on their part) and when they found out that I do, they were shocked. I mean, come on, I'm human too. But it's fine.
This friend, I used to bully. Alright, I was being an idiot and I didn't know why I did that. I didn't think she deserved the bully although she was rather mean to me, but there were enjoyable moments as well. I just don't know. I was too young that time. And an idiot too. Not exactly the smartest moment of my life.
I didn't like the fact that she wanted to outshine me. I didn't shine much, or at least I didn't think I did. I just hated the fact that there was unnecessary competition between us. I didn't try hard to compete although I'm not fond of losing, but she made it obvious. I didn't care about such things that time and I think I still don't care now. Thinking back on it made me kinda sick actually. If you want to win so badly and make me feel like a loser, so be it. You're not worth my time.
We could have been friends even till now if she was a little more... accommodating. She wants things her way. Sometimes I relent, sometimes I don't. I think I gave in most of the time and I secretly hated it. It's not like I didn't have a mindset of my own, I just found it redundant to force something on someone who was so self-absorbed. Maybe things will be much better if I just open my mouth and speak up. But I didn't. God knows why. Guess we just weren't meant to be friends.
I was sorry for joining in the bully, but at the same time, I'm not. Part of me thought that she kinda earned it because of how she roll, but I still know that it's the wrong thing to do. Bully is never right, no matter what the reason is.
This is also why I tried to make it up to her by distancing myself from the bullies, who happened to be my closest friends, and spend more time with her, hanging out with her, making her talk to me more. It didn't go exactly as planned.
We were fine on the surface, but deep down, there was still resentment in her, a wall she didn't exactly demolish. It made her wary of me. She didn't completely trust me. I guess that's also the reason why she was so defensive and mean towards me.
Because she trusted me and I betrayed that trust, now, I can never get it back. It's punishment in a subtle way. I shouldn't complain. (Why am I so childish last time? Oh god.)
I used to resent her too. I lost my close friends in order to make it up to her. It hurts seeing your close friends hanging out without including you, and then you watch yourself slowly turning into a stranger. Someone who didn't matter anymore. And it hurts most when I remember us sharing the same dream and promising that we will fulfil it together. Guess that was just the kid in us talking. Reality is so cruel. And so were the people who left me behind. Who can I blame it on?
Anyway, she was mean to me although I was probably the only few who cared about her. I tried hard to make her happy. At least I thought I did. But well, the wound never did went away. She was hurt deeply, I think. Deep enough to not let her see that she was also hurting others.
She protected herself well, held herself high and made sure that no one else could surpass her. When someone did, she would push them down. That was what happened to me. If I was good, she had to be the best. There was no exception.
She liked being blunt and honest. But she missed the part where being brutally blunt can also hurt someone's feelings. She spoke what was on her mind and she failed to see many things. This was what made me angry. I was no saint but I watched my words. She had no right to bring me down like that. It wasn't fair.
I hung onto this kinda one-sided friendship, forcing myself to be more interesting and funny because she thought that I was a boring person. She said it to my face, it hurts. I don't know if she noticed my silence after that, but she said nothing.
I forced myself to be more open with her, when I'm a person who is reserved with my own feelings, just because she wanted me to be completely honest. Guess I became an easy target with my shield off and it triggered an attack.
I pretended to be the carefree person she wanted to believe, because she couldn't take on anymore burden that was not hers to carry. I took on hers and became her listening ear. I didn't find a set of ears that belonged to me.
I was to contact her first, because she needed it, and I did. For a while, I initiated hang outs and friendly dates, until I stopped doing that and realised that she never intended to return the favour.
Just like that, I stopped trying and she didn't try, so we just lost contact. It only took a few short months for us to completely stop speaking to each other and it's just sad how this tiring friendship merely ended like that.
Did I mentioned that there were four people in the clique? Not just me and her? I was expected to make the effort to contact her like I was a desperate puppy begging for its owner's acceptance while she go on and make plans with other people in the clique. Willingly. Not caring if they initiate anything. Hell, I didn't sign up for this. So, I gave up quickly.
Maybe it's a pity. Maybe it's a relief. I thought, why do I have to keep toruring myself like this? Sure, I was happy when we hung out together, but after that, what was the exact meaning of this? Was I just someone who was obliged to accompany her like a lost puppy just because I made a mistake or was I someone who was considered a friend whereby we can share moments together? I don't know and I don't think I will ever want to find out. The truth hurts and I'm not prepared to get hurt again.
I used to say, I'm a loner. And it's true. Before I went to Poly, I didn't have any friends. I stuck to a few from my childhood and I can't even remember how I survived the few months of being alone. (Ah, I feel like I'm gonna tear up. Stupid, stupid.)
I don't know if I should be happy that she was an ex-friend. Couldn't figure out if the times we spent together was geniune or not. What if it was all just a pretense?
I knew she talked about me behind my back, and I played a fool. I'm such a coward really.
It's been years since this whole fiasco and I still remembered every single thing that happened. I'm not angry or that hurt. I don't think I really want such a person in my life too. I just... don't know why I subjected myself to such a thing in the past.
I wish we would meet someday, and maybe I will laugh in her face for abandoning me the way she did. Because I'm sure I've already grown into the kind of friend she was looking for. Not exactly the perfect friend that someone can have, but at least a much better person now. Pity she didn't have the patience right? Oh god, I sound so mean right now. I better slap myself.
Despite saying this much, stupid me still goes to her blog to read up on her life, because one part of me that existed in my memories is curious on her wellbeing. Totally digging my own grave. What am I going to do with myself? Then, I get all worried when I find out that she isn't doing so well emotionally and then I reminded myself that she isn't my concern anymore. And then I feel proud because I have true friends now and she still hasn't found any. Then, I kick myself for feeling this way because it's just too mean. And this cycle continues until I forget.
I'm kinda disappointed because I really like her. Not the times when she's being mean, quite obviously, but she's quite good company sometimes. Okay, I still resent the times where she called me ugly cause that really did something to my ego and confidence, cause I thought she was pretty and you know how crushed you'll feel when someone supposedly pretty called you ugly but it's okay now. I'm pretty in my own way, whatever. I'm not ugly. Never ugly. I'm sooo sooo pretty. Drop dead gorgeous. (Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, Trecia...)
This dumb long rant about two people who used to be so important to me. It's funny how both of them didn't manage to stay. Thank you for being part of my life, and now, you two will officially have the darn status of the EX.
I might sound like a victim and you will probably think that I'm trying to victimise myself. But in actual reality, we were just victims of the brutality of something called life.
Sitting in my own grave wondering what the hell did I just do to myself,
but at the same time I got something off my chest and I feel like a butterfly now,
with all the love,
Trecia.
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