Del

 After much contemplation and consideration, I am ready to write this down. If I have to be honest I am still a bit reluctant. But fuck it. That’s the motto this year. 

There is a secret to my resilience and detachment. What I lack in social skills, I found it in books. I learn people’s ways, feelings, how to read between the lines. Good things, good stuff. That’s what fairy tales are mostly made of. To cushion kids before life sucks everything out of you. I have always admire confidence, especially in women. I never understood why princesses need to be saved. Hell yes, Mulan have always been my favorite Disney princess. 

I want to be a strong, driven person. But I lack everything I need to be one. I was shy and quiet. I think too much and too long and often decided against in speaking about anything. I break in sweats every time I need to make a call or to speak to someone. Presentations was the hardest most difficult thing in my life during my study years. I almost quit during my final year because the supervisor I was assigned to was ridiculous and I didn’t know how to rebel. I didn’t know how to stand up for myself. I was also dealing with a bunch of other stuff emotionally. There was a brief period when I was under tremendous stress that my brain would just shut down and I just can’t breathe. 

But that’s not the point of this story. The point is, I like nicki minaj and cardi b. Haha. Jk. 

Ok. If I was to single out my weakness that would be feelings. I trust too much, care too much and love too much. Because that’s what made a good character in books. That’s how I was. I used to think that was the only good thing about me. Sadly, it was the thing I hate the most. Because it made my life shitty. Feelings, is something I used to associate with being weak. Not proud of it. But that’s how I was raised to be. No crying or expression of feelings. Nobody is going to entertain/console you.

I got better at hiding it. I can weep silently somewhere for a few seconds and then I’m done and back to business like nothing ever happened. But feelings is such a bitch sometimes, you can’t control it when it’s gonna come and go. I was the kind of person who thought that I should not apply scholarship because it meant I would be taking someone else’s place who is much more worthy and in need of it compared to me. I was in no such place to be thinking about other people’s place. I was broke as fuck with no support. That was before I understood the system’s workings and the social standing it gives to someone who got a scholarship. It was something to be proud of.

I took so much emotional damage because I thought I deserved it. Until one day, it broke me as a person. Some one like who I used to be cannot survive this world. Since I always knew the kind of person I want to be, I needed to become her. Things I learnt and the pain I felt was all too raw. The loneliness I felt being with people that were supposed to protect and love me was suffocating me. Instead of running away from it, I embrace it. Every night when I am alone in bed, I would put on my earphones and play a sad bgm I can relate to the most. When I close my eyes, my brain would replay every action, every words, every promises that broke me into pieces. In those memories, I see myself and I analysed and thought where did it go wrong. Was I a fuck up.I prayed to God every day to take the pain away. 

I understood then that to love is to constantly be in fear. That I can only love in one way and how it differs from everyone else scared me. I ended up being a different person after that. I became the person I’ve always wanted to be. At the cost of torturing myself to death every night. So every time, someone says I wish I was more like you or I am a strong. I just froze. It irks me. Because it made me remember what I had to endure like it was nothing. I like to think there is two parts that make my whole entire being. One, is who I am now and the other who I used to be who I made to sleep. Sometimes when I lay in bed, I think about those painful days and how much I can’t remember. Those are the good days. On bad days, I slip and I would remember in fragments and I can see myself in those moments. It doesn’t hurt as bad as it used to be. There is only a glimpse of sensation of the pain. But it’s enough to hear my old self crying in pain saying how could they do this to me.

Happy fucking birthday to me. You made it alive this year mate. Cheers.