they don’t know

I haven’t been writing much at all, but this particular things have been in my mind for a while now that i can’t seem to resist the urge to write. to lash out. to let go.

Of course i can go do the saucier/attention-grabber way by posting it to my facebook, or instagram for instance. but that’s not why i’m writing, so i hope i will never do things that way.

writing is way too precious to me, that i don’t seem to care if nobody is reading my random rambling but myself, so long as i don’t do it for attention. it’s not about running away from critics, which i’m sure will come my way if i made my writing public, but it’s more of…oh, hey, i’m blabbing nonsense.

what i want to write tonight is more of a personal account of my recent situation.
i’ve been truly amused by the various reaction i’ve got whenever people around me learned that i’m currently undergoing my masters degree. it varies a lot, to the point that i feel like – wow. some shows their support right away, some just keep quite but i can see that they are getting along with my decision, some ask whether this particular university that i registered at is legit (like, am i that thick?), some…just smirk. right to my face.

and my reaction to them has been numerous too. i know, even this is my personal decision, people around me will surely “say” something, and if i have such high self esteem, i surely should not been bothered by whatever that they will say. or do. but who am i kidding? i’m insecure, to the point that even until my third class, not many knows about my going-back-to-school gig. i didn’t share it with anyone, even though deep down i’m dying to tell them how happy i was because i dare to take that step.

happy. yes, i was happy. and even with the current state of too many assignments and homework and examination in three weeks but i haven’t study a single thing, i’m happy still. i feel like this is what i should have been doing. this is my scene. this is where i belong.

let me tell you. i have been meaning to further study ever since i graduated from my degree. as nerdy as this may sound, studying comfort me. seriously. but i was too afraid to seek out ways to fulfil this particular wish of mine before. and besides i got obligation, and many other lame excuses to go. so for close to 6 years, i was just journeying through life. hoping that i will some day find the right path, not knowing that the right path won’t be at my feet lest i seek for it. how shallow i have been. that much time, wasted.

but i don’t regret it. last 6 years has been my “finding myself” phase. i began with super fun first job that i don’t know if anybody else experienced it like me. i learned about how you can connect with your colleague to the point that you find them like almost your siblings. i had the tasted of crush, and how it crushed me. i had the taste of sweet friendship, not always wanting thing to stay the same, yet growing up together. it was the sweetest three years of my working life thus far, and i treasure the memories so much that i can now smile when i see people being so close to their co-workers. work together, later do dinner together, and then weekend outing still together. i have tasted it, so i can smile because i know how happy that person must be, because i was happy then too. it was such good experience.

but you can’t stop journeying. and every good thing must come to an end. so when i finally left that first job, i had the taste of my “almost” real world. competition with co-workers. being shouted at by your mean boss, who never cares to even learn your name properly. it was outrageous. i feel like i was a kid, now suddenly being thrown into adult world with all the spikes and thorns. i witness catfight at work (bless me i didn’t get involve in that!), i saw how even when you’re higher ranking, you will get stabbed by your co-workers and you fell to nothing. it’s such a scary scene, and i swear i go home everyday trembling, thinking of whether i shall still be able to keep my job the next day.

but i got through that. work bogged me down like a huge rock on my breast, i became an unfortunate victim of bullying (i play nice, but i guess it was a bit stupid too) and my project being accused of being the reason people leaving the department. i cried. i laughed. i give my best to survive, which in the end seems like i was breathing just above the water. catching my breath while never be sure of the shore, or what will catch me underwater. i was truly just breathing to survive.

gone were the happy times. i dreaded my weekdays. i wasted my weekends thinking that as my only consolation. i was so stressful, yet my body fight back in ways that i didn’t know i have such mechanism built in me. i had the shut-off.

it was bad. i became like the turtle. hiding away in my shell. not caring about whatever that is happening around me. i can sleep from friday night to sunday night straight. i just paralysed on my bed. i don’t even feel lazy. i just don’t feel anything. and i cried myself to sleep everyday. i cried for reasons i know but too weak to change, i cried for no reason but to just let the tears flow. i cried in my sleep. i dream of crying. i was hopeless.

i shrank away from any kind of sociable act. i turned down any friend who ask for weekend outings. i made up excuses to just be with myself. i was comfortable with no one but me. and then, when being in the city over the weekend seems too much and its getting too stuffy, i started going back hometown a little too often. every 2 weeks. then every week. instead of me telling my mom i had things to do and cannot spend the time with her, it became the other way around. my mom always had to say sorry cause i was home yet she got things to carry on. i wasn’t home that much before that she find it hard to just doted on me. which i totally understand. and i feel a little pang of shame, cause it seems like even my mom had “going-ons” with her life, while i seemed to drift – apart.

i was miserable. i work like a robot. i live like a machine. i rely on auto-pilot. many days i would be surprised that i don’t even remember my journey from work to home. or home to work. i just move, but little by little i’m dying on the inside. i have nobody to share my miserable fall-out, i’m too ashamed to seek out help anyway. so for over two years, i was battling with what seemed like a bad kind of self destruction. to add salt to my already bleeding wound, friends all around me started getting on with their life -greatly. they got married. they started having kids. they bought cars. the acquired houses. the collected assets. while i was accumulating nothing but my broken pride and my mountain of debt. and then, when the pressure becoming too much, i started to seek out for ways to release myself. that was when the real destruction began. i did things i’m far too ashamed now to confess, yet i know i was only further destroying myself by doing it. it was good for the moment, but then i will often find myself regretting it tremendously. and swear to never do it again. but it was meaningless because as soon as the tides hit me, i did it again. and again. i keep a good act upfront, yet inside, i was crumbling like a battered mountain hit by dynamite. all the while, i realized just how far i am from getting better, yet i just can’t seem to paddle myself towards the right ways. it was truly hard. i was broken inside. i was beyond lost.

i don’t remember how i started to finally decided to study again, but at the moment, it feels like my only saviour. like if they even so much as rejected my application, i would have turn to pieces and shattered to my own demolition.
but i got in. and i took the step forward.
i have been busy since. it was hard juggling between books and works, yet this is the kind of busy that i appreciate and take with my open hand. i had longed for this. and to be able to experience it, it was great so far. i am worried about the exam and all, i had sleepless night working on my assignments, but this sure beats the crap out of sleeping for 48hours straight.
so my point is, if only they knew how much i need this, maybe they’ll be kinder. maybe if they can understand that i never do this because i want to put myself above them. i never want the scroll to be superior. they should have seen my broken soul, for then maybe they stop all the doubts and smirks. i needed this to save myself. i needed this to be able to feel alive again. i needed this before it was too late.

or maybe they don’t care if i annihilate my own self. or…maybe i should stop caring about what they “might” think, and focus on myself.