Monday, January 23, 2006

That's what friends are for

I’ve never been more grateful for my friends: the friends who’ve stuck around for ages, who’ve known me since I was that high and haven’t gotten tired of me yet. The kind of friends who when you tell them your sad or unhappy immediately say “I’ll be there in 10 minutes” even though they have work to do (of course it helps when she’s just a 2 minutes drive away, heh.)

I feel so relieved to be able to share, to have an understanding, empathic ear to listen. To have someone nod in compassion and total comprehension, not just because they’re my friends and therefore under some code of conduct they must agree with me no matter what, but because they really do get me and have been there before. The load on my chest has been lifted somewhat, I finally feel I can breathe again.

I am silly. I don’t why I’ve always felt the need to hide things from people, why I’ve always felt the need to be so private. It’s taken me too long to realize that telling people I trust the turmoil I feel inside is a way to relieve the burden, to prevent myself from a self-induced meltdown. Why have I’ve always needed to protect myself from supposed embarrassment and from behaving contrary to the strong unflappable front I put up?

Whatever made me think they would not understand?

After I spilt my heart out, she grasps my shoulders and says as gently as she can with a suspicious twinkle in her eye “It’s nice to know you’re human too and more of a girl than you had ever believed possible”.

It is a shock to behave in a way I used to find contemptuous. I am so emotional attached now that I’m having a stupendously hard time dealing with it. I hardly know how to react since I’ve always conditioned myself to be the direct opposite.

“When I’m with him, control goes out the window. Don’t you laugh now”, she warns.
“I’m not laughing my dear. Don’t you see? I understand how you feel.”

Of course the problems don’t go away just by sharing things with others, but at least my head is clearer and I am encouraged that it doesn’t have to be doom and gloom all the time.

“Perhaps you struggle so much and are so anxious all the time about how the relationship is going because you really care and want to make it work. When things settle down and get sorted out, you won’t feel so needy anymore.”

She’s right.

But saying that I really care though, is an understatement.

Cold, cold water

cold cold water surrounds me now
and all i've got is your hand
lord can you hear me now?
or am i lost?
no one's daughter allow me that
and I can't let go of your hand
lord, can you hear me now?
or am i lost?
don’t you know i love you
and I always have
hallelujah
will you come with me?
cold cold water surrounds me now
and all i've got is your hand
lord.. can you hear me?
or am i lost?

Cold water - Damien Rice, Album: O

Yes I know, Damien Rice again: the poster boy for your average garden-variety depressive suicidal out there. Like I once described him to a friend as the writer of “songs to kill yourself to”. Funnily this song is precisely about that and is staged as a lament between a father, his daughter and God.

It’s all very sad and the haunting voices, including the goose bumps inducing Gregorian chants, linger with you for a very long time. I’ve listened to it so much that the song is permanently playing in my head. This is not good.

Listen with caution (and only if you are of sound mind).

Friday, January 20, 2006

On Volatility

I feel much better today, mellow even and dare I say happy, content?

I hesitate though to say this as much as I hesitated with the last post because I know whatever I write is only true at the moment when I write it and not an indication of any lasting state of mind. I hesitate because I don’t want to (depending on the situation) either scare people too much or put their minds at ease. Saying I’m ok, doesn’t mean the darkness is gone, it just means I’m ok, for now.
.
.
I’m such a killjoy. If I’ve put a damper on anyone’s spirits, please read the first line again.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Truth is I don't feel better. I don't know why I make like I'm ok and cheerful even when I'm not. And doing that just makes me angrier and even more frustrated. I feel like I need to, have to, must, vent my anger and frustration, to find an outlet, and pounding the keyboard doesn't help. Writing doesn't help, much. Crying doesn't help. Smashing something to smithereens or ripping something apart into tiny pieces or screaming my head off till I'm hoarse or pounding something with my fists until they bleed would probably work better.

It's a struggle to appear calm and in control when I'm like this. Right now between typing, I'm clenching my fists, feeling my fingernails dig deep in my palm, holding it all in.

I don't know.

I don't have an answer to this question:

What's wrong with me?

Words are inadequate, they fail miserably and eloquence is a lie.

Monday, January 16, 2006

Melancholia

I'm feeling more than a little 'off' today. I can't quite put my finger on any one reason, it seems to be a combination of things: the anticipation and anxiety about the new job, the uncertainties of the relationship, the feeling of being out of touch with the family and of course the ever present underlying existential angst.

It manifests itself in a pervasive mild panicky choking feeling and a general light headedness resulting in the inability to concentrate or focus on tasks at hand. It's can't be attributed to the convenient excuse of Monday blues. Instead it's the feeling that things are coming to a head, of hurtling towards some inevitable combustion point. And no, it's not that I worry too much, it is however more likely the result of the paralysis that grips when it comes to trying to communicate my fears and therefore resorting to bottling it all inside.

In an uncanny coincidence, a close friend confided in me last week that she was in the throes of some deep personal conflict. That isn't the uncanny part, the part that took me aback was when she described how she's used to keeping it all to herself and it festers for so long that when she's in one of her moody spells, sometimes she can no longer point out the cause for her dissatisfaction. The reasons get buried with time and the inability to express herself and only the 'down' feeling remains, that intuition that something is wrong but no way of connecting the dots. My jaw dropped to the floor, it was like hearing my twin speak.

Have you ever wondered how many of the things we do serve merely as tools of distraction from the clamouring voices, from the burning questions that go on in our heads? We try our damnest to suppress, shut out, smoother, that we might actually get so good at it that we succeed in forgetting. But the victory is a shallow one, for these things never go away; they might lay dormant but only as dormant as an unexploded bomb can be.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Seven.

(I’m not sure what to write.)

The big news is too big to jinx by premature disclosure. I’m not superstitious, but ‘surer’ things have gone wrong before and so I’m more than a little paranoid. It’ll have to wait, but very soon all should be confirmed. Fingers crossed, touch wood and the like.

(So then, what now?)

I know! Resolutions!

I haven’t given it as much thought as I did last year. Fact is, the New Year still hasn’t sunk in. I spent so much time reminiscing that I’m reluctant to start (or promise to start) anything new. But for the sake of something, anything to write, here goes (in no particular order):

1. Indulge in (at least) one extreme activity
i.e sky-diving, flying (lessons. No, I have no aspirations to sprout wings or be Superman), bungee-jumping, whitewater rafting etc.

2. Join a dance class and/or pick up a musical instrument.
(This has been on my list every year, but no results so far, maybe this will be THE year ;)

3. Room (for) improvement.
It is a barren testament to my non-committal attitude to any one interior decorating style. If I must call it something, it’d be: Accidental Minimalism. This too I envision will be rather tough, seeing how I spend less and less time here these days.

4. Get published.
(Sigh, pipe dreams I know. I guess this is here to remind me that irrespective of when it actually happens, this year or the next century, it is something I want for myself and to keep trying.)

5. Cultivate a more professional image.
Seriously, don’t fall off your seats laughing. This is me aspiring to be that sharp suit walking down the business district that gets admiring glances.

6. Travel.
My world map will soon be entirely covered by cobwebs if I don’t dust it off soon and chart my next course. Somewhere, anywhere, it doesn’t matter as long as it is someplace new and foreign.

7. Blog regularly.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ....*chokes and wonders if it is a scientific possibility to die of laughter*


End on that ridiculous note, will I.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink

I’m currently conducting some research on the water industry. First thing I learnt? The subject matter is very dry…heh.


Monday, January 02, 2006

Before and After: What a difference a day makes.

The ‘Before’ post: 2005 in Retrospect

Not to be confused with special issues and centrespreads that newspapers and other media come up with at year end. This one is entirely self-centered and of very little interest to the general public except to myself and a select few who’d better be interested (under threat of bodily harm) if they knew what was good for them.

Disclaimer: A long post, brace yourself. Go make Milo to fortify yourself or something. Otherwise if you think your constitution is too weak to take it, give up now and come back next year when I will make a resolution, especially for you, to be less verbose. After which I still make no promises to keep my word, understood? Good.

First things first, how do you write a retrospective if you don’t intend to give away details? Sometimes I think I wax too philosophical (which I rarely do in real life because I’m too shallow and too lazy) in posts because I can’t spell out the nitty-gritty.

Anyway, here goes.

It has been a year of the lowest low and the highest high I’ve ever experienced and these are the things that will live on in my (increasingly unreliable) memory:

The year began with the acquirement of The Car and a deepened understanding of the words freedom and scared shitless (I hadn’t driven in approximately 10 years, what do you expect??). Am happy to report that only freedom has remained and it’s the other drivers on the road that I constantly endeavor to instill in a greater understanding of the term ‘scared shitless’.

Then came The Nightmare, an episode that knocked the wind out of me and froze my heart with a mixture of disbelief, grief and guilt. It made me realize what a naïve fool I’d been for thinking I knew who to trust, how to take care of myself and those around me and the control I had in any given situation. It became clear after the fact, the amount of risks I had taken and the danger I’d put all of us into, a danger in the end that did come to pass because I realized too late. The effects though lessened with time have had far reaching consequences.

The Accident happened shortly after The Nightmare, further compounding my already depressed state and involved The Car. It was relatively minor but unfortunately was This Drivers fault hence resulting in a sizable amount of The Money going down the drain.

The Diving Adventure was a much welcome diversion after the string of bad incidents. Funnily, at the start, it seemed doomed to actually add to the list of bad incidents, but it all worked out in the end for this newly certified diver who’s immensely proud to have bogey-ed with Spongebob Squarepants at the bottom of the sea. Heh. Strangely, people keep telling me that my meeting with the personable yellow sponge was the result of nitrogen narcosis, a state characterized by foolish behavior not unlike being drunk. And to this I say: Bah humbug! They’re obviously jealous.

The Blog, one miniscule, insignificant blimp in cyberspace but one huge leap for myself. I have much to thank this blog for: The chance (though sometimes also a torture) to write and be read regardless of the volume of both the writing and the readership. Something I’d always wanted to do but never quite did anything about.


The Man……

************

Sadly, this is as far as I got before the ‘real’ world interrupted - the ‘real’ world in which I’m a totally lazy ass and a damned efficient procrastinator. I had the sincerest intention of posting the above (completed of course) last year. I mean like really. Sigh. And now…


The After(math) continuation post: What the hell? I missed my stupid deadline!

The tally? Hoegaarden, Jim Beam, wine, Carlsberg, Midori (don’t ask).
The result? Only the slightest hangover. Nothing to do with tolerance unfortunately, more like variety vs. volume.

So then, it feels like any other day, any other year. In fact the New Year feels too much like a letdown. I preferred the nostalgia, sentimentality, pensiveness and contemplation of the end of last year to this. Anti-climatic I suppose.

Here’s where I should start soliluquising about my hopes and dreams for the rest of the year ahead. But, nah, I’ll keep my resolution on brevity and just say I hope the way I started out the year will set the trend for what is to come.

And no, I’m not referring to the alcohol ;)

*************

PS: The Man deserves a post (or more) of his own. (That’s not an excuse darling. Or maybe it is, just a tiny bit. Heh.)