If the same question was asked today, the result would be absolutely pathetic. A hot, dry desert wind blows and the sand rises slightly. Under a few specks of sand is a small black cube, smaller than one's palm. A traveller comes upon the cube, looks at it for a few moment - curious that such a thing would be in a desert. He/She then decides that the cube has no actual value and throws it back into the sand and it sinks into the dunes. This repeats for every traveller that even has the chance to see the cube. That's the kind of cube I picture now. How a cube big enough to sustain a civilisation could become something so utterly redundant is beyond my knowledge.
It is part of my personality, you know, and given the circumstances I lived through, it was probably inevitable that my bloated self-esteem was reduced to something close to being non-existent.
"Like the INFP personality type, INFJs can struggle with depression. This may stem from feeling chronically unheard, useless or misunderstood, as well as from dissatisfaction with the INFJ's careers or the INFJ's relationships. Because Ni perceives the world so differently and profoundly, INFJs often experience a sense of loneliness and isolation, even when they are with other people. Depression may also arise from feeling that their ideals and insights are not being recognised or actualised in the world. They may see the world as deaf to, or unconcerned with, the truths they espouse. INFJs may therefore question their value in a world that seems indifferent to their insights."
1. Chronically unheard
It is unsurprising, given that as a child, I was always taught to ignore anything that isn't logical. My parents weren't the kind to entertain or encourage creative thinking - my mom doesn't like talking about serious stuff; my dad never wanted to hear anyone's opinions but his own. In such an environment, my Ni was rampant with no output and it was overwhelming. It's not just my intuition; it was also my emotions. Even now, I cannot cry anywhere - there's a constipation of emotions.
2. Useless
I basically see myself as the most useless person on earth, a detriment even. It's rather painful to live like that, I know. To see no purpose in being alive - to see all the hope in the world, but no hope within myself. To believe that the world will become ideal one day, but believing that I will be dead way before.
3. Misunderstood
My emotions are not invalid - I wish I can believe in that. Tears shed for the sake of others were called "weak". I know they are not now, but something that's ingrained since childhood cannot be removed so easily. There used to be this tunnel I had to walk through on the way to the MRT and there were a few beggars. As a kid I went up to them, hugged them and cried for them. And then I was slapped by my dad for being an embarrassment. In such a situation, how can you expect me to grow up without believing that everything I feel is invalid? Why was my empathy being misunderstood for weakness? Even now, even as I treasure empathy, I cannot get out of this mentality - the mentality that crying is weakness.
4. Careers
One word: school. On hindsight, I am much better suited for Polytechnic or IB, i.e. a syllabus that is more application-based than theory-based. Business Studies, for which I received notes from a lovely friend, seems much more meaningful than Economics. There are so many more interesting subjects besides your commonplace A Level subjects that include mugging and nothing else. I'd rather have a school system based more on talent and passion than pointless mugging over nothing useful. In fact, from my batchmates now in University, I have learnt that less than 5% of what we learn in JC is actually useful.
5. Relationships
I don't have to say much for this one. This is probably the biggest contributing factor to my ego. I was used to being liked and popular back in Primary School. The fact that retaining segregated me from my batch, dumping me into a batch that already formed its social triangle and then I dug myself another hole to jump in doesn't help.
6. Loneliness and Isolation
At this point in my life, I have given up completely on the notion that anyone can understand me. They can certainly try, but they can't do it. You would think emotional maturity is a good thing - it's not. When emotional maturity comes in the form of maturity in experience but no maturity in dealing with things, what you have is a disaster - me. Emotional experiences can only be felt fully if it's authentic. The fact that I'm older than this batch and that I'm already more experienced than most my batch puts me in a horrible position.
I find it quite scary, my life, that is. The fact that every breath I take feels more empty than the previous. The fact that something so natural, as a smile, is now something I practice. I haven't smiled genuinely at anything for a long time - I've simply learnt when I should laugh and smile so that I seem like a happy person. There isn't such thing as happiness anymore. Moments of happiness simply hide the horror that is to come. I like happy people, everyone likes happy people...I certainly detest myself.
It's when nothing makes you happy anymore that you realise how far you've sunk. If depression is compared to sinking, then it's also right to compare different depths of depression - the depth at which you can still pull someone out, and the depth at which it takes a miracle to fish out a lost cause. Today, I managed to do something that I really wanted to do before I die and I was happy, for a moment. But as I have come to expect, it fades almost instantly.
I wake up and practice smiling at the mirror, practice laughing at small things. I feel no true joy, no true humour, not anymore. It's pain that is still distinct, the sting of tears, the choking feeling when crying, the throbbing of wounds when they burn. It's disturbing, I know it myself, but what can I do? I've sunk way too deep.
Even when I look into the mirror, I want to kill the person staring back at me. Why is she so ugly? Why is she so useless? Hey, you shouldn't be alive - I wanted to jeer at the person, and then I realised that it was me. The more I look at myself, the more I understand why I was meant to be a failure. The more aware I become of myself, the more I want to destroy myself. I hate this.
I'm looking at these quotes on Tumblr. People ridicule others who do things like that - but at this point, I feel like at least these are people who understand. In their quotes, I find comfort - the comfort that it's not just me. I try to be a selfless person, but weak people shouldn't try to be selfless, I have learnt. I'm too weak, too fragile. Yet I cannot be selfish. I was a formula for failure from the start.
1. "I destroyed my body for a peace of mind I never got."
I cannot cry at home, I cannot cry at school, I cannot cry on the train. There's nowhere I can cry. The one time I truly got to cry and bawl out everything, I had to run away from home for a whole night. It wasn't worth it - my parents were so worried, I felt so guilty about it. Why is it that to cry I have to hurt others? I just end up practising smiles to cover up tears, in front of family, friends, everyone. Being honest simply isn't a choice.
Perhaps in death, I can finally find a release for my emotions. In death, I will not feel anymore, everything that I struggle to keep inside doesn't need to be forced in anymore. It's the kind of peace I cannot afford. Here are my classmates studying for exam, struggling in education. I'm struggling to breath, to look normal, to not collapse. I cannot break down, because if I do, people worry, I feel guilty, I cry more. It's a self-destruct sequence.
2.
And it makes me hate everyone around me. She is prettier. She is skinnier. She is smarter. She is more hardworking. She is not suicidal. She is happier. She lifts others moods. She is everything that I can never be again, everything I have lost and cannot find back. Is this envy or jealousy? Envy, by dictionary definition, is to desire something you don't have. But I used to have these things. Jealousy is to desire something that may be taken away by another. But no one took these qualities, I lost them myself.
And then I hate myself for hating these people. There's nothing wrong with them - it's me. She is prettier, but that's only because I'm ugly. She is skinnier, but that's only because I'm fat. She's smarter, but that's only because I'm stupid. She is more hardworking, but that's because I'm useless and lazy. She is not suicidal, that's normal. She is happier, because I'm a depressed burden. She is everything I want to be, because I lost all these somewhere.
3. My worst time of the day is the morning because it is when I realise I wasn't having a nightmare, this is actually my life.
Why does depression come with insomnia? It is in my sleep that I finally find solace and some sort of comfort, and I wish so deeply that one day, I will sleep and never wake. Every time I wake up, I am reminded of who I am and where I am. I am reminded that unlike in my dream, everything is chaos and is a mess. In my dreams, I am happy, I am content, I have everything I need - not want, need. I have everything I need to stay happy, to stay sane. But then I wake up, too early. It's scary, you know, when the realisation hits and I start crying uncontrollably. And the cold, the emptiness. How pathetic is life when dreams are preferred over the waking hours?
4. It is sad that some people aren't waiting for their Happy Ending anymore. They're just waiting for The End."
It will not come. My happy ending will never come. It's like that Avril Lavigne song. Hey, how funny is it that when I first heard the song, I felt really sad that someone had to go through something as painful as the song describes? Now, I hear the song and I laugh. Hey, girl, it's just a boy and a stupid relationship...at least it's not your entire life.
5.
I think I'm fucked up, but it's completely logical too. If death is what will take away the pain, then why would I fear it? I know it will hurt others around me, but every single breath I take is more painful and final than the last. I am painfully aware of the throbbing of my heart and I wish it would just stop. I can hear my heavy breathing at ungodly hours in the morning as I cry, and I hope I can choke and just suffocate. I wish, very deep down, that something/someone will come and take this away and I'm too deep underneath for anyone to reach me. I know no one can.
6.
7. It's sad that when people ask me "what do you think you'll be doing in 10 years?" I wonder if I'll still be alive.
"Hey, I'll invite you guys to my wedding" I say jokingly. And it is a joke. I won't be alive to be married and even if I am alive, I'm the same as dead anyway. It's time for the truth - the only important occasion any of my friends will be invited to isn't my wedding or a baby shower or anything or that sort, it's my funeral.
8.
You have no idea how this feels. Every single day it repeats itself, every day feels more and more final...and I wonder, when will the day finally come? Will I die by throwing myself off the building? Too flashy maybe. Will I die by hanging? I wonder when I'll get the rope. Will I stab myself in the wrist with my trusty penknife and watching myself bleed to death? I wonder when I'll get the courage. I just know that I will die by my own hands.
9. Sirius Black, from Deathly Hallows:
Harry: Does it hurt?
Sirius: Dying? Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.
And that is a very attractive idea. Except those movies are lies. You see those people in the movies where they pop 2 tablets in their mouths and instantly die. I wish it were that easy - I would be already dead and free if that was the case. In real life, popping 2 tablets into your mouth, tablets you shouldn't take, will most likely end up with a horrible food poisoning and other terrible side effects that will just hurt others more and not even end my life.
10.
No comments:
Post a Comment