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Sunday, April 30, 2017


Monophobia is the fear of being alone. If I had to dissect what exactly is terrifying about it I can't put my finger on it. Is it something I attribute to being the youngest child and needing to feel heard/important/be checked up on constantly because that is how it always just was? It's not a one way street because I always give that to people. But I've learned that there are more people out there who are not wired that way. It does not make them bad. In fact, my presence in their life is refreshing because nobody has taken that much time to put their well being above anything. However, even though I wanted to deny it at first--doing all of that makes me want to receive a little in return. 

It's not like I never had it. There were people who would go above and beyond for me. What did I do about it? I took it for granted. I did not stop to think that the kindness was a conscious CHOICE made by people even when they did not have to. I did not open my eyes to how difficult I could be especially when I get into a condescending mode to win an argument which I should have let it slip by. Or make them make decisions for me because of how indecisive I can get, even for the smallest or most annoying things. Or how I would call them up mid-anxiety attack to just bring me back to the verge of normalcy.

But sometimes, even when I throw tantrums and want more than anything for someone to be there ( Not just anybody because I am picky about who I connect with--the list is rather short) it hurts when I can sense that the other person does not even want to be there. The hurt is so immense, that suddenly dealing with the monophobia is not an unattractive option. When interactions have to be forced, when you can read dissatisfied or bored expressions, when you start hearing less about their day, when suddenly they get busy constantly -- coincidentally at the time when you are falling apart and just need to be in the presence of someone or something which feels safe.

You do not want to be selfish and ASK for them to be there against their own free will but you NEED someone genuine to just hug, smile at, say the first thing running on the top of your mind, have meals with-- and this need is magnified when your own "home" feels anything but. So is this called being emotionally dependent? Maybe. But maybe , just maybe , the world needs people like me because what world would it be if everyone turned stone cold as a defence mechanism to not get hurt by people's actions. Perhaps this is just the downsides which come with all the love and entertainment , lol.

Friday, April 21, 2017

When faith becomes self-harm.

If something is not right and you merely cling on to the hope that it 'will get better' some day either by a given date or an uncertain one, (which is worse) I personally think that it's a form of self harm.  Faith, while great , cannot operate if it is sustained on so little. An emotional mess is horrible because while everything might be running according to plan, on time, to the best of capabilities, something just feels off. Missing. All the things which used to seem very fun, loses its appeal.

To talk to someone with the same sentiments might sway the conclusion towards suicidal tendencies.

To talk to someone who has not been on the same boat, might provoke sympathy but not empathy. They just won't get it.

To open up to parents would ellicit confusion because there are bigger responsibilities to tend to.

To be so far away from everything which feels safe or like a hug; then paradoxically be immersed in unfamiliar, unsafe waters is like having a phobia of drowning then having the person you trust force your head underwater and tell you 'It's for your own good'. So will things be right? I don't know. But they tell you it works out when you do not care so much about it. But does it not suggest you've given up on it when you don't care so much about it? So what's the point of things getting better when it does not matter anymore?

Monday, April 17, 2017

Scratched glasses aren't pretty.

There are only so many songs I can play on the ukulele, so many new movies to watch, so many recipes, so many home workouts, and words I type to complete my assignment before everything loses its spark or significance. I am trying to deal with this emotional turmoil with as limited outside intervention as possible. It's Easter break over here and while everyone has someone to go to or a place to turn to to tickle their imagination fancies, I sit in a tiny room typing words to express my feelings, accompanied only by the sound of pin drop silence and pitch black darkness outside. The extra hours of daylight is great and everything but when night falls it's quiet. ...Too quiet.

A lengthy video call with my sister helped a lot but it opened my eyes to what an unconventional family I have -- or maybe it must be an Asian thing ; love is hardly expressed in words and it's painfully awkward to do. It's a wrong time to be homesick but I've fallen into that trap. (uh oh)

To make matters worse, Somehow I've managed to do it again. Except when the same thing happens repeatedly, it cannot be an external cause , it must be something internal.

I lost/ (am losing?) the moon while counting the stars. But tell me this, don't the moon and stars both complement the beauty and wholeness of the night sky? What would the sky do if it had to choose? It's a painful feeling to cause your own downfall. To unconsciously take people for granted. But don't people deserve to be un-apologetically themselves ? What if by doing so, it hurts others? Do you stand true to yourself or do you change so you don't hurt others ?

It comes down to a degree of how much this person matters. If they matter enough, you would change. Except, I don't know if I CAN change. What if I have become permanently altered this way? What if I've unconsciously made  a band aid, a source of entertainment, an accomplice for crazy plans, an inspiration and feelings of home stem from one source; that I tend to heavily depend on it first before anything else? In that sense, I've screwed up bigtime--because in the process I've neglected many great people whom now don't know where they stand in my life.

There are some damages which are so magnanimous ; I would not even know where to start to repair. An apology is a start, but it's too little. An elaborate letter to explain myself would only seem like justifying my behaviour. Not doing anything to give space seems nonchalant. (Which is far from truth, because I feel deeply affected--it's like a part of me I cannot get back is crumbling before my eyes.)

Maybe it's a straightforward solution, just value more people in your life or else you don't get to complain when they back out. I can do that, I just feel shitty about what I have already done that's all. I've left a scratch in a valuable glass. It can't disappear but it's the starting point of the shattering of that glass. And god forbid, I'd lose it if the glass completely shatters. I'm sorry .