Ghost.

Ghost.

I see you with me in my mind in my dreams all the time.

You make me helpless make me weak put me down on my knees.

I don’t want to be like that, that girl who breaks and bends.

Who made her life miserable and lifeless and insufferable every time someone leaves.

Moans for nothing but love but love hurts more than anything when it ends unexpectedly.

When things spun out of her control she went berserk and broke down.

I don’t want to be her and I am not her, not anymore.

I am the master of my life and I deserve to be respected and loved for what I know I am.

You are always be loved.

 

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No one cares.

I could have cried when I reviewed back the moments we had together. That bubbly boy who stole my heart with his eyes. I could spend all of my time staring into his eyes. That gentle gaze, is what I yearn for. That kind of connection. I’ve lost them.

*****

I was just arrived HK after two weeks in Malaysia, alone in my house. I had a meltdown while having my french fries. I think this could easily be the lowest moment of my life. I was talking out loud about why my mom said she actually don’t know me well. It was painful and I feel that no one actually knows me at all. No one cares.

Who I am.

So much pain that I can take, physically and mentally.

It’s there, don’t you see?

Leave me hanging down at the edge.

It’s always the sweats, there always be struggles.

Feels like a stranger, feels like an alien.

Feels like an impostor, feels like a creep.

Feels like the shadow, feels like no one.

Feels inadequate, feels useless.

I don’t know who I am.

 

 

Pangs of sadness.

It has been a tough few days. I either study or long day training at sam or school project intern or EEG. It has been okay. Although my mood is not as perky or elevated as last week, I tried to keep my head up, reciting my mantra hang on hang on a few more days  and try to stay as calm as possible.

And recently there has been some earthquake happened in Nepal and it is devastating. Nepal, although is not my homeland but after I’ve stayed there for almost three months, I grew attached to it. I always have this affection for Nepal and I always yearn to go back. I can feel my heart ache and want to cry about it.

I’ve been feeling slightly aroused recently, sexually. That warm arousal that stuck on your skin. I don’t know. I have the thought of finding a fuck buddy, or getting some sexual reliefs but no avail. I have no good candidate. The guy, Alan from SAM really caught my interest but gah, I think he must have a girlfriend already.

And I just received a email reply from my beloved teacher Chan Sir from my ABC class. I felt really sentimental about our whole program has just finished. He is a brilliant teacher and I don’t know, I just feel the pangs of sadness.

There are so much sadness in this few days and I have no one else to talk to. I must hang on for a while, at least till this Wednesday.

 

Outgrown.

So this is the sequel to his (D) kind-but-overdue reply.
“sometimes i realized that when i was in hong kong, i was doing things that i liked
here, i find myself constantly thinking that i have something to proof
i have to proof that the money was worth it, that i can start from nothing in a new country, that i am making use of everything that i didnt in hk
was it fun here? in so many ways, yes. i think fun comes when when you have proven something, never innately would an activity be fun
if you feel stuck, just have faith that no rut is never ending, and keep trying
and, send a parcel to your parents”
I like the words he said in red. He has outgrown himself. I’m so proud of him.

Some thoughts about death.

We are just tired, weary souls.

I came across an article about a woman who died of liver cancer, and she wrote her own obituary before she died. Her obituary is amazing, I mean I read that when I was very bored. No, sorry I’m now very bored too. See? Being bored can drives you a bit crazy. I think, it’s not so bad at all. Like what Irvin Yalom did with his clients, what do you want to write on your tombstone? 

And another friend of mine just attended his uncle’s funeral and expressed his epiphany about facing death in life. What we thought of life are fairly similar. We’re just living creatures who learn to live at a quarter of our live, then learn to die for the rest of our time. I like what he said.

I think funeral is just a ceremony for the living to face death. For me, the idea of my own death is not so scary. Just the thought of living through other’s death is insufferable.

It’s complicated.

Today, I went to a come out workshop, I mean a workshop for LGBT people to learn about the process of coming out with sharing session.

A few days before, when I first saw this event, I was slightly hesitate while the curiosity struck me. I never feel like the need to come out to anyone, not to my parents at this moment and I have no idea I am very sure about myself (that I am bisexual, because I never been in any relationship of any kind). So going to this kind of event is really a challenge. Because I was afraid to see someone I knew.

And yes. My worst nightmare came true. A student helper I knew from my internship was there. We are not that friend friend, so it’s even more awkward. I never really want to share my stuffs with strangers. But to cut the chase, she asked me what is my orientation and I told her that I am bisexual and in return she said she is unsure. Abruptly, she changed the topic to my intern supervisor, saying that she suspected he is gay. It was good. At least it saved me and her from unnecessary embarrassment and disclosure about ourselves. After all, we don’t know each other so well.

In the middle of talk, someone who I knew walked in. I kept my head down at first, afraid he will notice me. At the end I am not too sure whether he saw me or not but it doesn’t matter. Why hide? I thought. Why would I hide myself for being honest, true to myself? But I was slightly surprised, because I never thought he could be gay. Nonetheless, I left early for my counseling class.

At my counseling class, I didn’t do my best at debriefing, maybe disappoints my favorite teacher for a bit. I can tell he was slightly frustrated. But I did try my best, Cantonese is not my mother tongue and I got out of my comfort zone to do so. I tried. And I done my best….

Later, I skyped with slim bitch, my old bff. Somewhere along the line I told her about my encounter at the come out workshop. She didn’t sound encouraging but slightly puzzled. I guess she is, at some point doesn’t see me as bisexual. But well, I think I have to draw the line, it makes me feel left out a bit.

My Achilles’ heel.

I went to see my therapist today and I showed her my haiku that I wrote a few days before. It went well and she wanted me say it out loud and I cracked again. She likes reading poetry and she told me the whole thing is just sad, and down except the last phrase I’ll bring you home, as if it’s a new hope. We spent quite amount of time interpreting and brainstorming. And my assignment this week is what is home to me? I don’t know, I’m just too tired of thinking as I cried so many times whenever I thought of the word home. My Achilles’ heel.

A fantasy conversation.

Forgive me. Things have been in impasse and if you have read about Irvin Yalom’s book Every Day Gets a Little Closer, I’ll be the Ginny. But this time I’ll be having a fantasy conversation with my therapist, as below.

Me: Why D is not making the initiative to call me back? I’ve been very very patient with him and he’s really burning at the back of my head. It’s really taking a toll on me. He’s….non-doing is killing me.

Therapist: When did you last contacted him?

Me: Almost 10 days ago. I messaged him, He said he was still busy with projects. Which is a lie. I’ve messaged him twice, but rejected twice. I was hoping that he’ll call me back soon but I kept waiting, hoping but that didn’t happen. I just wait and wait like a fool. I haven’t been talking to him for more than 2 months. And there is nothing I can do about it.

Therapist: It appears to me something is gong on. I can sense a lot of anger, resentment, and maybe frustrations. What do you want to talk to him about?

Me: You know, everything. We used to talk about everything and now he just shut me out completely and I’m not too sure what to do with myself.

Therapist: Do you see yourself dependent on him? Emotionally?

Me: Maybe…. Yes.

Therapist: How do you deal with your feelings all these time? I meant during his absentee. How did you manage to compose yourself?

Me: No. I’m not doing well. I felt more emotional. I felt isolated and alone and nobody cared about me. I just ended up crying for the wrong reasons….. or no good reasons.

Therapist: Does it helps? The crying? Other than that what did you do?

Me: Nothing. There is nothing I can do. I just get emo the whole day. I’m still amazed that how much he can do to me, well. his not doing doing to me.

Therapist: So have you thought of what are you going to do about this?

Me: Kill myself? I felt like nothing. I’m nothing to him anyway. To anyone.

Therapist:  We had our agreement, remember?

Me: Yes. And I’m not dead and sitting right in front of you.

……

I don’t know how to keep the conversation gong and now I’m too pissed and upset about everything.

I miss my friends.

Another outdated news from my friend. I just came back from the long journey and it appears to me that the act of me walking away from my routine life makes me realize that, I miss out so much and others seemed like, living their lives without me; so far away from me. Fat bitch just got laid for her first time. Someone just confessed to slim bitch. And D? I’ve no idea how he’s doing.

Yes, I’m here still complaining and whining in the middle of night. Look at there, it’s 2.13am. I can’t deny I’m just a whiny little bitch who just can’t stop and be content with her life and move on.

Maybe I just need my friends.

I miss my friends.