Over the time I’ve spent away from this blog I’ve come to realize what an anxious person I was. Anxious all the time. Just thinking about the crowds at college would put a pit of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.
The biggest lesson I learnt from my days at college was that no one cares. That for me was the release lever for my impalpable social anxiety and I used it to tell myself that ‘it was ok’ again and again when I felt any emotional turmoil. Over the last year I’ve learnt other lessons and taken inspiration from other things-one of these being anime, namely One Piece’s Monkey D. Luffy who was always unconcerned about anything and everything unless it came to his dream of being the ‘pirate king’. I would call it selective attention.
My experience at university is also full of turmoil, especially considering the numbers of people who I don’t know.
But I know now that I was meant to be a calm person. Calm and serene, keeping a cool head despite what may happen. These harsh experiences are shaping me into a laid-back character who doesn’t really care about much and leaves my own destiny to God. I already know that if He doesn’t want something for me I’ll never get it, despite however much I want it so now I’ll just relax and let Him take control. The stage is His and I am an actor, a puppet, over whom He can master over.
Putting all of my trust in Him and letting Him take control because fighting, I’ve found, is useless.
Life is way less stressful this way.
Once you’ve fallen, the hardest thing you can do is pick yourself back up. But that’s what makes winners. There’s this notion that whatever happens, however tragic or devastating, you’ve somehow got to use it to become stronger. To be a champion.
And I’ve been on the worst place a human can be in. For two years. No growth, no aspirations, no decisions, no expectations. It’s horrid how happy I was, being nought but a shell of a person, a shell of a character, a shell of a destiny.
I don’t want to be in the place anymore. I never have. But it takes a lot more than physical strength to rise up from the ashes. You need mental grit, a strong resolve and commitment in order not to automatically fall again to the same place, maybe even lower.
I’m still in the pits. Tomorrow will be my attempt to climb up, crawl up, haul myself over-whatever it takes-to get to the ground of the living. Because the living have dreams.
I want to be alive.
As I battle my constant internal struggles, or rather, as I indulge in them, I realise that I’m paying for my addictions with my very life. Right now, a DS game has captured my attention-and kept it for more than 5 hours. It was hard to stop playing. Although I couldn’t fathom why I wanted to keep playing; my eyes stung, my back ached after being hunched over the screen, my work awaited, and the worst part is, well, it wasn’t even entertaining. It’s like I was only torturing myself because it was supposed to be fun, not that it was actually fun. So I kept playing, trying to get to better levels so I could taste that fun.
It never came.
And so right now, in the midst of my various unopened textbooks, I’ve come to realise I’ve fallen. I’m standing on burning coals intentionally, which is absurd. And in this moment, with nought but the deep silence of the room, the hum of cars moving outside, and the distant sound of water falling, have I come to know that I am better than this. I’m so much better than what I do. I need to strive so that my actions are complementary to who I am. So that my core values are not banished or compromised in the knot that is life.
So my life doesn’t bleed out every time I do something that I don’t want to do.
Here I am, looking at this blank page in front of me with tears sliding down my cheekbones. I’m not emotional at all right now: not angry, not frustrated, not miserable.. not anything. I honestly, truly don’t know why I’m crying. But I have a few theories.
1. My subconscious knows something I don’t and is severely affected by my lack of productivity/ meaningful endeavours/ spiritual connection.
2. Loneliness. All of my ‘friends’ are really just acquaintances who only engage in phatic and frivolous talk with the exception of one friend but she herself is too independent and passive to talk to. I thought I had many friends but it turns out I don’t really want to be around them much anymore-they either remind me of my hopelessness or remind me of other things I could be doing. Friends are overrated.
3. My soul is upset by all the negativity I’m surrounding myself with.
4. I got an hour’s less sleep yesterday.
I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships lately. It’s not that I don’t think they’re great people or that I’m superior to any of them, although they all make me wish I was someone else. I hate that feeling. It’s so unwelcome, so uncomfortable. I would try harder if I knew that they would care enough to think about me or wouldn’t forget me as soon as I’m out of their sight, heck they forget about me while I’m with them most of the time. I guess it’s just something about me that people don’t trust enough to be personal and real with; it’s always been like this, every friend that I’ve tried my best with has eventually moved on. All of the contacts on my phone are transitory. I’ll try to make a concerted effort to keep my distance from everyone for a day and see how that turns out…