Alright, I have tried, and failed. No matter how many times I psyche myself to be happy, to be positive, I cannot do it. I cannot pretend anymore that I am alright, when in fact I am not.
I am going crazy staying at home, yet I do not dare to go out for fear my mum screams at me, which incidentally is the same reason why a certain person I miss so much does not come and visit me.
My mum told me to be home and recuperate, no visitors allowed, but she is driving me crazy! I feel so cut off from civilisation, so cut off from the rest of the world. I feel like such a hermit, that I fear when I re-emerge, the world has changed beyond recognition.
My first brother managed to pass his final examinations and graduate, and he is taking his time to come back. He is not going on the trip with us, and he is surprised that I am going. In his words, "Are you crazy! Going with mum alone?"
I love travelling, and I do not mean to sound ungrateful because this trip is really specially for me, but sometimes travelling with my mum can get on our nerves. She expects everything to be perfect, and goes ballistic whenever anything is not up to her perfection.
Which is why my first brother does not like travelling with her. He likes to take things easy, leisurely. He says what is the use of going on a relaxing tour if one gets even more stressed?
But anyway, I am getting so depressed, at all the things that is happening around me. Sometimes I wonder why is it I cannot be depressed, and I have to go around pretending that I am okay when in actual fact I am not?
I do not want to pretend anymore. I broke down last night, I sent out a few random messages, and a friend called me and talked to me for more than an hour, trying to talk me out of what he thinks is "suicidal tendencies" (I wonder how I gave him that impression?).
I was so upset that I lashed out a little at my guy. I was just feeling so unhappy that I just want more care and concern from my loved one. I wanted so badly for him to be here with me.
My mum once said she does not need to tell me she loves me, she shows it. Then why do I not feel it? Where are my parents whenever I am upset, whenever I run into any problems? They once said I could talk to them about anything, so why did I only get blame and sarcasm whenever I did talk to them?
I once pasted up a poster of a Taiwanese singer on my wall, only to have it torn down the next day by my dad, as he said he did not want to see me wasting my time idolising useless people. I collected small postcards of the same singer, built up a large collection, and wanted to exchange with my friends, only to have them thrown away by my mum.
I wanted to tell her the problems I was facing in my school work, especially in Physics and Additional Mathematics, only to have her tell me I was not working hard enough. She locked up the television for a year that year when I was having my 'O' levels, confiscated my Walkman and kept all my books so I would not have any distrations from my studies.
I yearned so much to be normal, to be a good kid, to have my parents accept me for what I am, but why do I keep failing at everything I did? When my relationships failed, it was my fault, all the time.
When I got posted out as a teacher, she made me write several letters to those top prestigious schools, applying for teaching posts there. But when I did not get posted to any of those schools as she hoped but instead to a normal neighbourhood school which she never heard of, it was my fault for not working hard enough and getting better grades, when actually it was the Ministry that made the final decision, not the school.
People call me a loser, for being so restricted even at this age. My exs never liked the fact that I always had to be home at a certain time, always said they wanted to spend more time with me. They once told me they could not stand my mum, and if we were to marry, I had to cut off all contact with her.
I never knew I could still remember all these, until I started clearing my room the past few days, and all my old memories came back. I wonder for parents who gave birth to me, why can they not show more care and concern for me?
My mum thinks she has done a lot for me by bringing me for the operation. She thinks my guy does not care and pays only lip service. He is the one who contacts me several times a day to make sure I am alright, to talk to me.
She goes back to her work, comes back at night, tells me to ensure I take my medicine, and that is it. My dad came back on Saturday, asked me how I was, and that was it. He has not spoken much to me since then. And they say my guy is the one that does not care?
If this is care and concern, then I dread to think how they are like if they do not care for me. I do not need them to fuss over me twenty-four hours, but in what way are they showing care and concern for me? In what way are they showing they love me? Why do I not feel it?
As I told my friend yesterday, perhaps sometimes it is better to be dead than alive. At least once you are dead, everything stops. If you are still alive and live in misery, it is worse than being dead. I can start to understand why some people lose their will to live.
So in case I am gone, here is what I want to do. I want to will my assets to various people :
1. All my savings (not that much anyway), plus the returns I get from my investment and the entire investments I have, to my parents.
2. My cheques to be transferred to my parents' names, so they can draw cheques at will.
3. All my books (except my entire Shakespeare collection) to be given to my brothers, the rest to my friends, and whatever remaining to be sold off at rummage sales and the proceeds given to the SPCA.
4. All my clothes and soft toys to be given to the Salvation Army. I wanted to give my clothes to my cousins, but considering they are taller and slimmer than me, I do not think they can fit into any of them.
5. My little box of treasured momentos, all my DVDs, VCDs, Music CDs, plus our Nokia 6131, Creative ZEN, Phillips 3-in-1 clock-radio-CD player, my makeover pictures and my entire Shakespeare collection to be given to my one and only darling.
He is getting the best of me, as he is getting all my memories, all our memories, and the things I consider most treasured to me.
6. My piano and organ to be given to my elder cousin, for her upcoming baby.
7. My little darling furball to be taken care of by my maid, until he breathed his last.
8. Finally, my body to be cremated, and my ashes? Half of it will go to my dear. The other half to be brought to England, where a quarter will be scattered upon the grounds of Anne Hathaway's cottage in Stratford-Upon-Avon, and the other quarter scattered over a certain grave in Stratford Church.
I am going crazy staying at home, yet I do not dare to go out for fear my mum screams at me, which incidentally is the same reason why a certain person I miss so much does not come and visit me.
My mum told me to be home and recuperate, no visitors allowed, but she is driving me crazy! I feel so cut off from civilisation, so cut off from the rest of the world. I feel like such a hermit, that I fear when I re-emerge, the world has changed beyond recognition.
My first brother managed to pass his final examinations and graduate, and he is taking his time to come back. He is not going on the trip with us, and he is surprised that I am going. In his words, "Are you crazy! Going with mum alone?"
I love travelling, and I do not mean to sound ungrateful because this trip is really specially for me, but sometimes travelling with my mum can get on our nerves. She expects everything to be perfect, and goes ballistic whenever anything is not up to her perfection.
Which is why my first brother does not like travelling with her. He likes to take things easy, leisurely. He says what is the use of going on a relaxing tour if one gets even more stressed?
But anyway, I am getting so depressed, at all the things that is happening around me. Sometimes I wonder why is it I cannot be depressed, and I have to go around pretending that I am okay when in actual fact I am not?
I do not want to pretend anymore. I broke down last night, I sent out a few random messages, and a friend called me and talked to me for more than an hour, trying to talk me out of what he thinks is "suicidal tendencies" (I wonder how I gave him that impression?).
I was so upset that I lashed out a little at my guy. I was just feeling so unhappy that I just want more care and concern from my loved one. I wanted so badly for him to be here with me.
My mum once said she does not need to tell me she loves me, she shows it. Then why do I not feel it? Where are my parents whenever I am upset, whenever I run into any problems? They once said I could talk to them about anything, so why did I only get blame and sarcasm whenever I did talk to them?
I once pasted up a poster of a Taiwanese singer on my wall, only to have it torn down the next day by my dad, as he said he did not want to see me wasting my time idolising useless people. I collected small postcards of the same singer, built up a large collection, and wanted to exchange with my friends, only to have them thrown away by my mum.
I wanted to tell her the problems I was facing in my school work, especially in Physics and Additional Mathematics, only to have her tell me I was not working hard enough. She locked up the television for a year that year when I was having my 'O' levels, confiscated my Walkman and kept all my books so I would not have any distrations from my studies.
I yearned so much to be normal, to be a good kid, to have my parents accept me for what I am, but why do I keep failing at everything I did? When my relationships failed, it was my fault, all the time.
When I got posted out as a teacher, she made me write several letters to those top prestigious schools, applying for teaching posts there. But when I did not get posted to any of those schools as she hoped but instead to a normal neighbourhood school which she never heard of, it was my fault for not working hard enough and getting better grades, when actually it was the Ministry that made the final decision, not the school.
People call me a loser, for being so restricted even at this age. My exs never liked the fact that I always had to be home at a certain time, always said they wanted to spend more time with me. They once told me they could not stand my mum, and if we were to marry, I had to cut off all contact with her.
I never knew I could still remember all these, until I started clearing my room the past few days, and all my old memories came back. I wonder for parents who gave birth to me, why can they not show more care and concern for me?
My mum thinks she has done a lot for me by bringing me for the operation. She thinks my guy does not care and pays only lip service. He is the one who contacts me several times a day to make sure I am alright, to talk to me.
She goes back to her work, comes back at night, tells me to ensure I take my medicine, and that is it. My dad came back on Saturday, asked me how I was, and that was it. He has not spoken much to me since then. And they say my guy is the one that does not care?
If this is care and concern, then I dread to think how they are like if they do not care for me. I do not need them to fuss over me twenty-four hours, but in what way are they showing care and concern for me? In what way are they showing they love me? Why do I not feel it?
As I told my friend yesterday, perhaps sometimes it is better to be dead than alive. At least once you are dead, everything stops. If you are still alive and live in misery, it is worse than being dead. I can start to understand why some people lose their will to live.
So in case I am gone, here is what I want to do. I want to will my assets to various people :
1. All my savings (not that much anyway), plus the returns I get from my investment and the entire investments I have, to my parents.
2. My cheques to be transferred to my parents' names, so they can draw cheques at will.
3. All my books (except my entire Shakespeare collection) to be given to my brothers, the rest to my friends, and whatever remaining to be sold off at rummage sales and the proceeds given to the SPCA.
4. All my clothes and soft toys to be given to the Salvation Army. I wanted to give my clothes to my cousins, but considering they are taller and slimmer than me, I do not think they can fit into any of them.
5. My little box of treasured momentos, all my DVDs, VCDs, Music CDs, plus our Nokia 6131, Creative ZEN, Phillips 3-in-1 clock-radio-CD player, my makeover pictures and my entire Shakespeare collection to be given to my one and only darling.
He is getting the best of me, as he is getting all my memories, all our memories, and the things I consider most treasured to me.
6. My piano and organ to be given to my elder cousin, for her upcoming baby.
7. My little darling furball to be taken care of by my maid, until he breathed his last.
8. Finally, my body to be cremated, and my ashes? Half of it will go to my dear. The other half to be brought to England, where a quarter will be scattered upon the grounds of Anne Hathaway's cottage in Stratford-Upon-Avon, and the other quarter scattered over a certain grave in Stratford Church.
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