I swim as hard as I could with the water slapping on my face and the people standing at the other side, waiting for me to drown. The finish point is at plain sight as if I can see my future there waving at me, a life of my own. However, I know all it takes is one huge wave to bury me in the ocean, all it takes is one hit to put me back to square one if not worse.
A very wise person once said, “Fear leads to hate, hate leads to anger and anger leads to suffering.”Indeed, fear is the root of all, fear of loosing friends, fear of letting people know who I truly am, fear of my past and most important of all fear of it all would happen again. And with more and more fear piling up day by day, I started thinking why was I the only one who has these fears? Why having friends, having a normal life, having somewhat others deem ‘A basic life’ had to be such a luxury for me, had to be something that I had to spend time and effort to fight for ? Why me ? If it appeared that I was the only one who was special in that regard, then perhaps it was my problem all along. Of course I didn’t ask for the illness nor did I want any part of my past to be the way they were but was I the one who caused it at the first place. Maybe others were right, I was the one who created those problems, whether directly or not, nonetheless I caused my own pain, I should be the one who should take responsibility and I somewhat deserve to be the way I am now. ‘Hatred’ , hating myself for having this illness, knowing that I am the one who can fix it and there is no other way into doing it. So work the problem, first step in problem - solving, is to identify there is one, listing them out and tackle them one by one, do what is necessary. However the road of recovery is steep and full of rocks just like the ocean is full of heavy waves. From time to time, I would bump into one of these obstacles, perhaps it was a situation which I was forced to deal with or something that someone said which triggered me. I knew these things would make their ways to me every now and then, but sometimes I feel angry somehow, not particularly anything or anyone, just pure anger and rage, and my mind just can’t stop expanding the thoughts of how people have mistreated me and how unfair this world is for me. Perhaps one of the main reasons is that I am not making progress as much as I wanted, that I have to double my efforts, double my time to get there because I am trying to make my way to the other end with waves above and sharks below me, results turned out under expected, even feel like my progress is rebelling against me, rebellion on all fronts which I have to overpower one by one.
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The usual ringtone filled the room like a call from the real world, pulling me out of my dream and signifying it’s the beginning of another day. I got out of my bed as if I had gotten any sleep at all instead of lying down, looking up to the ceiling reflecting all the mistakes I had made during the day. Standing in front of the mirror with the sink below me was like the prologue before a magic show, to many other people, having a wash in the morning is a way to snap out of their sleepy mode or putting on make up to make the best impression of themselves, but to me it’s a morning ritual to mask myself, to hide my true broken self behind a face mask made out of flesh and put a happy face on it, like a clown getting ready for a birthday party, getting ready to bring joy and laughs to the world like he was supposed to. Afterwards I often put on some videos on YouTube, mostly videos that I had already watched a million times already, just to use as background noise, to fill the room with sound, make me feel more human, more social. From the moment that I stepped out of my room and made my way to the lobby was perhaps the first hit of every single morning. Afraid that I would bump into classmates which happened to be my hall mates who I used to walk to class together but of course it wouldn’t allow anymore. Most of the time I was ‘lucky’ that I made it out ‘safe’, probably because I was able to work my way around the clock, however in some occasions which I didn’t have ‘luck’ by my side I would see one of my classmates still there, leaning on the sofa waiting for her friend, presumably was still busy with her make up. “Hi, how are you?”, we greeted each other in the most common yet in my lacking fake way everyone knows since most of the time people don’t actually mean it. When the sentence, “OK, see you in class then.” came out of my mouth it was perhaps one of the most relieved yet sad moments I had ever had. Relieved that the conversation was finally over but sad that the conversation couldn’t last longer. Walking on campus and making my way through to class wasn’t the most pleasant thing to do either, with all the people around me, God knows what they were thinking, perhaps they were like me rushing to class or dropping by coop to get a sandwich, but with all sorts of things going all around me, there was always only one thing going through my mind, ‘ Am I being weird?’ Am I standing out among the rest because my hair wasn’t well managed? Or was it because the pimple on my face? Anyway, I just hoped I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone before entering my class. Finally arriving to my class, I was usually one of the early ones, or rather some of them were just being late, as I pushed open the door, I put the happy face on and greeted everyone in the room as if I was a new man with a fresh mind who actually looked forward for the day. Though not having sign seats, I sat at the exact same spot everyday, pulled out my laptop, plugged in my earphones and checked my emails, it’s often the usual stuffs but it’s nice to have something to do, at least not to feel being left out in the room. Seeing the tutor walking in the room to many was probably one of the worst thing could happen to a student but to me it was like Christmas in July since I didn’t have to pretend that I had something to do or texting with someone as if I had anyone at all. Everything was going ‘well’ until I heard the words ‘break for 5 minutes’ and everyone starting to get up and hung out with each other, and there I was, sticking my chair and thought if weren’t for people smoking I honestly didn’t get the point of having a break during classes, maybe because I was from Hong Kong and having a break seemed to be a fantasy back there or I simply couldn’t withstand the loneliness and the fact that I didn’t have my own group, focusing on my phone and pretend to scroll through social media like I was actually reading the posts at all, burning from within, it felt like a thousand volcanos had just erupted, keeping my heads down like just a normal guy checking up on facebook while having a break while being struck by a million lighting bulb in my mind, condemning myself why I had made myself the way I was. Other passed by as the break was over, once again putting a smile on my face while made eye contact, it was the worst of time as it was nothing but a stretch of muscle to me, it never really meant anything but a gesture of manner. It would have been better if I hadn’t had another class to attend after an hour break, which to me was to repeat the upon over and over again until I eventually finish my day and made back to my dorm room with my body exhausted and my mind broken down. Lying on my bed with my phone on my hand, again watching YouTube which made my felt more connected to the world while my eyes felt heavier and heavier and finally closed down. Hours had passed which I could even hear the sound of my stomach craving for food while I was asleep. I checked on the clock in my phone and it was already eight if not already nine and I thought to myself, ‘I had done it again, or it had done it again’, burning my mind during the day resulting in me needing rest afterwards which also led me to miss the prime time when everyone was doing things, avoiding the chance in need to talk to another human being. Anyway, even a person like me had to eat, so I went into the kitchen, hoping that no one was in there if they were not already on there way out. It was perhaps the best part of my daily routine, the moment that I filled my stomach with food I cooked, after all they said the food you cooked was always the best. It’s like that, then I put on some TV shows or finish the work that needed to be done, barely talked to people despite being surrounded with lots and when it was bed time I shut the lights, went to bed and had my long night self condemning session and await for the alarm to ring. |
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