I was told recently that i should learn to switch off. Learn to not let things affect me too much. Learn to not lose too much sleep over something that can't be resolved anyway. Learn to forget about things temporarily, and come back to it later, when the time is right.
Unfortunately, i can do none of those things.
And in some weird and maybe twisted way, i'm glad. I've always told myself that i would not turn into one of those hard, unaffected people. Those people that go though life with an on/off switch. When it's time to sleep, "off", weekend "off", come Monday, "on" again.
It doesn't work that way for me.
When i was working in a clinic for young adults with eating disorders, i used to come home every night after work in tears. It was disturbing me emotionally and mentally. It was also so frustrating when they don't see that what you're doing is actually saving their lives. Especially when they have so much to live for and so many years ahead of them. It was the best job i've had...ever. To this day, i have never in my life found anything so fulfilling and meaningful.
I told myself a long time ago that if ever i got to the stage where i'm unaffected or desensitize to it all, then it's time to stop and take stock. It's time to reevaluate everything and go back to the person that i was.
To be honest, i don't care if i'm unable to switch off. I don't care if things affect me too much. At least they do. And that makes me human. A person with compassion.
At least i can look back and safely say that i felt them all. I cried too much and probably laughed too much. But at least i felt them all.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
My Underworld...World..
Being the late bloomer that i am, when everyone in this entire universe was entranced and obsessed with Twilight and the exciting idea of a modern day supernatural phenomenon, i was insistent that it was going to be another overrated rubbish. And so, the whole thing did not appeal to me. I couldn't really be bothered much about watching it.
One Sunday months later, i was bored at home and was going through the DVD collection and literally stumbled upon Twilight. With my sis and mum's raves ringing in my ear, i thought "why not?", and to be honest i had nothing else to watch anyway.
Then i became one of the many ravers gracing this world. Seriously.
I loved it! Probably became obsessed about it. I then proceeded to buy the books. 3 of them. And when i couldn't find the 4th one, i asked my boyfriend who was in the UK at the time, to hunt it down for me. Little did i know that the book was so huge and heavy (hardcover) that (in his words), he needed to buy another suitcase just to carry it. An exaggeration i'm sure.
So anyway, 4 books of the Twilight saga later, i'm looking around for something more. Then came the Vampire Diaries series. And this completely took me back to my younger days when i was obsessed with L.J Smith's Vampire Diaries saga. Imagine; it's all actually going to be shown on TV!!
So began my obsession with downloading it every week as soon as the episode airs in the US. And to top that off, i'm reading a saga not on vampires, but immortals. Sigh. I'm starting to wonder if this is a sign that i'm actually regressing in my mental age.
But you know, i think part of the whole obsession with it is that it makes you feel young again. I mean all these...vampires, witches and like things, these are all targeted for teens. And make no mistake, when i was a teen (and into my 20's, there was nothing that i'd love more than suddenly waking up one morning and being told by a fairy godmother that i'm actually a witch).
With our lives so consumed by all things "adult", what's wrong with wanting to go back to when things were so much easier. I prefer that theory than the other that says that actually, i haven't grown up that much mentally....or emotionally. *sigh*
One Sunday months later, i was bored at home and was going through the DVD collection and literally stumbled upon Twilight. With my sis and mum's raves ringing in my ear, i thought "why not?", and to be honest i had nothing else to watch anyway.
Then i became one of the many ravers gracing this world. Seriously.
I loved it! Probably became obsessed about it. I then proceeded to buy the books. 3 of them. And when i couldn't find the 4th one, i asked my boyfriend who was in the UK at the time, to hunt it down for me. Little did i know that the book was so huge and heavy (hardcover) that (in his words), he needed to buy another suitcase just to carry it. An exaggeration i'm sure.
So anyway, 4 books of the Twilight saga later, i'm looking around for something more. Then came the Vampire Diaries series. And this completely took me back to my younger days when i was obsessed with L.J Smith's Vampire Diaries saga. Imagine; it's all actually going to be shown on TV!!
So began my obsession with downloading it every week as soon as the episode airs in the US. And to top that off, i'm reading a saga not on vampires, but immortals. Sigh. I'm starting to wonder if this is a sign that i'm actually regressing in my mental age.
But you know, i think part of the whole obsession with it is that it makes you feel young again. I mean all these...vampires, witches and like things, these are all targeted for teens. And make no mistake, when i was a teen (and into my 20's, there was nothing that i'd love more than suddenly waking up one morning and being told by a fairy godmother that i'm actually a witch).
With our lives so consumed by all things "adult", what's wrong with wanting to go back to when things were so much easier. I prefer that theory than the other that says that actually, i haven't grown up that much mentally....or emotionally. *sigh*
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Girlie Female Dog..
I’m really embarrassed to say this but for some reason something is compelling me to blog about it. I was actually drafting the blog post in my head before I went to bed that night.
Chronic.
Anyhoo, before I begin, let me just justify (and hopefully redeem) myself by telling you that I was at the peak of what I call my “most feminine time” which means I get in a tangle at the simplest of things.
It was a Tuesday night, and I was already feeling tired as it was nearing 11.30. It was also yoga night which means on top of everything else, my body has begun its weekly ache from stretching to the limits of my ligaments. But let me just tell you, almost nothing makes you sleep as soundly as a physically arduous 90-minute yoga session.
With the reluctance of an elephant, I decided to raid my wardrobe for something to wear for work the next day. Bearing in mind that I am NOT a planning person, the actual task of preparing tonight what I have to wear the next day is an achievement in itself.
After staring blankly at my wardrobe for a couple of minutes I decided on a top and a skirt. The top is such that I have to wear a vest underneath. Where I work even the possibility of a slight show of skin when you scratch your nose is unthinkable.
So I head to my top drawer in which I will supposedly find the said vest sitting pretty. Alas, it wasn’t there! A little fumble and looking in between the other folded tops to no avail. By this time I was getting a little annoyed. So I looked through the other drawer and still couldn’t find it. And by this time I was more than a little frustrated.
Sigh, after looking through the same places over and over (I was deadly sure it wouldn’t be anywhere else) I ended up messing up BOTH my drawers and pretty much was on the verge of throwing everything on the floor. I think at this point the only thing that stopped me was my dignity.
My boyfriend though, bless his heart, decided to help me out by sewing a button on a shirt so that I’d have that to wear. I think he was secretly worried that I’d end up ransacking his whole house for a vest.
So anyway, I look back now and cringe. Although it was pretty much hormone related, I have no idea what came over me. The frustrating thing about hormones is that even though you know you are in the thrones of a massive influx, the rational mind seem to have been completely taken over and has lost its ability to think for itself and do what it’s supposed to; think rationally. Instead, you regress into a 15-year old; an age where sulking is not so socially unacceptable.
I’m blogging this in the hopes that seeing it in my face in writing would beat me into embarrassed submission. I’ll know next month if that actually works.
Chronic.
Anyhoo, before I begin, let me just justify (and hopefully redeem) myself by telling you that I was at the peak of what I call my “most feminine time” which means I get in a tangle at the simplest of things.
It was a Tuesday night, and I was already feeling tired as it was nearing 11.30. It was also yoga night which means on top of everything else, my body has begun its weekly ache from stretching to the limits of my ligaments. But let me just tell you, almost nothing makes you sleep as soundly as a physically arduous 90-minute yoga session.
With the reluctance of an elephant, I decided to raid my wardrobe for something to wear for work the next day. Bearing in mind that I am NOT a planning person, the actual task of preparing tonight what I have to wear the next day is an achievement in itself.
After staring blankly at my wardrobe for a couple of minutes I decided on a top and a skirt. The top is such that I have to wear a vest underneath. Where I work even the possibility of a slight show of skin when you scratch your nose is unthinkable.
So I head to my top drawer in which I will supposedly find the said vest sitting pretty. Alas, it wasn’t there! A little fumble and looking in between the other folded tops to no avail. By this time I was getting a little annoyed. So I looked through the other drawer and still couldn’t find it. And by this time I was more than a little frustrated.
Sigh, after looking through the same places over and over (I was deadly sure it wouldn’t be anywhere else) I ended up messing up BOTH my drawers and pretty much was on the verge of throwing everything on the floor. I think at this point the only thing that stopped me was my dignity.
My boyfriend though, bless his heart, decided to help me out by sewing a button on a shirt so that I’d have that to wear. I think he was secretly worried that I’d end up ransacking his whole house for a vest.
So anyway, I look back now and cringe. Although it was pretty much hormone related, I have no idea what came over me. The frustrating thing about hormones is that even though you know you are in the thrones of a massive influx, the rational mind seem to have been completely taken over and has lost its ability to think for itself and do what it’s supposed to; think rationally. Instead, you regress into a 15-year old; an age where sulking is not so socially unacceptable.
I’m blogging this in the hopes that seeing it in my face in writing would beat me into embarrassed submission. I’ll know next month if that actually works.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Sports Edition
I did something which i've never thought i'd ever in my life resort to. Not just that, i probably made it a point to argue the non-merits of being interested in something which i looked at as pointless and therefore was not worth my time.
I woke up one morning and the first thing i did was check the football scores.
Yes dear reader(s), i've succumbed. I have allowed myself to get sucked into a life where it is perfectly acceptable to sit in front of a (preferably) large TV screen and watching (a favourite) team of men run around a huge field kicking what seems to be an insignificant ball.
"Seriously?" i hear you ask. Yes seriously. For some strange and inexplicable reason i have been lured into one of life's deadly sin.
Let me try and justify myself here. Imagine this: It's almost midnight on a weekday and with the knowledge that i have to get up early the next morning for work, we went to bed. Also with the knowledge that the kick-off for the big game (which applies to all games played by the favourite team by the way) is at 11pm. No matter, that's what TVs in bedrooms are for.
Game starts and after about 15 mins i could feel myself nodding off and so said my goodnight to Mr S. You know that point where you could just feel yourself drifting off, which is quite possibly the best part of sleep as you're pretty much unconscious otherwise? I was just there when a girlie scream of excitement forced its way out of Mr S' lungs. I think i even felt the jumping up and down (while sitting up in bed) bit.
I kid you not.
That happened twice before Mr S realised that he's probably keeping me awake (you think?).
My justification is this; living with that (not necessarily the watching in bed bit), but the whole anticipation, psyching oneself up, the almost child-like joyous excitement before a game and after one is won, is extremely contagious. You can't help but get pulled into it as well. Before long you realise that you know the players' names and because of that, there's almost a sense of loyalty and support for them.
So yes, although i used to abhor football, i can actually watch it now. To make matters worse, i actually hope they win the game. All this is done silently of course. Imagine the glee that would generate if i admitted out loud that my perspective on football is now not on the same plane as normal people out there.
So to all female football fans out there, i understand you now. And no longer think that you're freaks...or lame.
I woke up one morning and the first thing i did was check the football scores.
Yes dear reader(s), i've succumbed. I have allowed myself to get sucked into a life where it is perfectly acceptable to sit in front of a (preferably) large TV screen and watching (a favourite) team of men run around a huge field kicking what seems to be an insignificant ball.
"Seriously?" i hear you ask. Yes seriously. For some strange and inexplicable reason i have been lured into one of life's deadly sin.
Let me try and justify myself here. Imagine this: It's almost midnight on a weekday and with the knowledge that i have to get up early the next morning for work, we went to bed. Also with the knowledge that the kick-off for the big game (which applies to all games played by the favourite team by the way) is at 11pm. No matter, that's what TVs in bedrooms are for.
Game starts and after about 15 mins i could feel myself nodding off and so said my goodnight to Mr S. You know that point where you could just feel yourself drifting off, which is quite possibly the best part of sleep as you're pretty much unconscious otherwise? I was just there when a girlie scream of excitement forced its way out of Mr S' lungs. I think i even felt the jumping up and down (while sitting up in bed) bit.
I kid you not.
That happened twice before Mr S realised that he's probably keeping me awake (you think?).
My justification is this; living with that (not necessarily the watching in bed bit), but the whole anticipation, psyching oneself up, the almost child-like joyous excitement before a game and after one is won, is extremely contagious. You can't help but get pulled into it as well. Before long you realise that you know the players' names and because of that, there's almost a sense of loyalty and support for them.
So yes, although i used to abhor football, i can actually watch it now. To make matters worse, i actually hope they win the game. All this is done silently of course. Imagine the glee that would generate if i admitted out loud that my perspective on football is now not on the same plane as normal people out there.
So to all female football fans out there, i understand you now. And no longer think that you're freaks...or lame.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Lifting Away...
Went to my dad's office today to clear out the crap which i have not made the effort to sort out since i came back from Australia. I sometimes think part of the reason for that is so that i don't have to see the very physical reminder of THAT chapter.
Anyway, i think 3 years with a very happy relationship underway later, enough time had passed. To be fair, it wasn't as difficult as i've always thought it would be. Then again, maybe all that time helped.
So i went there, looked at everything, and cleared them out. I pretty much threw all the clothes away (or rather, gave my dad permission to give them away), and took what i wanted. Which was primarily my stuff and whatever that i thought i would use.
Along with those i also kept the numerous photos and cards received for almost all special or non-special occasions.
I've come to realise that eventhough the whole thing may not have ended in the most ideal way, they are still memories. Memories that no matter how bitter or sad, i'll one day cherish. Be it for the happiness that it brought me, for the lesson, or even for its insight into how i've grown and changed over the years.
Surprisingly, i can look back now and smile. Smile at the foolishness of being young and clueless. And smile at all the plans and ambition for the future when in reality, we have no idea what the future holds...and still don't.
So yes, time heals. And for that i'm happy.
Anyway, i think 3 years with a very happy relationship underway later, enough time had passed. To be fair, it wasn't as difficult as i've always thought it would be. Then again, maybe all that time helped.
So i went there, looked at everything, and cleared them out. I pretty much threw all the clothes away (or rather, gave my dad permission to give them away), and took what i wanted. Which was primarily my stuff and whatever that i thought i would use.
Along with those i also kept the numerous photos and cards received for almost all special or non-special occasions.
I've come to realise that eventhough the whole thing may not have ended in the most ideal way, they are still memories. Memories that no matter how bitter or sad, i'll one day cherish. Be it for the happiness that it brought me, for the lesson, or even for its insight into how i've grown and changed over the years.
Surprisingly, i can look back now and smile. Smile at the foolishness of being young and clueless. And smile at all the plans and ambition for the future when in reality, we have no idea what the future holds...and still don't.
So yes, time heals. And for that i'm happy.
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