This post took me forever to finish due to the emotions associated with it and also the craziness of everything going on in my mind. First off, Merry belated Christmas and Happy belated 2014!
December 28th, 2013:
I get easily emotionally attached to things personally and I also find it easy (TOO easy) to get emotional in general. I remember the first time I learned the meaning of empathy and the difference of it from sympathy. Empathy was to actually put yourself in their shoes and feel how they feel and not just to feel sorry for them. To share their feelings and understanding their condition from their perspective. I first really empathized with someone in grade 5. It was the first time I felt so connected with someone. It was also the first time I saw my dad cry. I couldn’t help but start crying. I was so confused to the feelings I were feeling because I wasn’t part of it and my dad didn’t tell me anything, but just seeing how hurt he was made me hurt alongside him. From then on, every time he cried, I would feel like crying. Maybe it’s because he never cries. The second time that happened was when my grandma passed away. I remember that scene so vividly. My brother, my mom, and I arrived late and saw three of my aunts there crying and my dad comforting them. I guess it’s his way of busying himself with comforting others so that his emotions can be controlled. He kept telling them it’s okay and comforting them although he was probably the one who hurt the most, being the one who you could tell loved my grandma the most. No one did anything to comfort him although I knew the pain he would be feeling. Like hello…it’s his mom too! I went up to hug him and he just kept saying “it’s okay, it’s okay” over and over in my ear. There was nothing more I wanted to do than be able to do something for him, to help him. But I didn’t know how, and I still don’t know how. I only know that if I try to comfort him, I’d end up crying and I know that would make it harder for him.
When we saw on Facebook yesterday that his best friend from high school passed away after being hospitalized following a car accident on the other side of the country, I knew he had to know but didn’t want to tell him. It pains me to hear him asking if I’m okay because I know he’s not. I barely knew his friend! I’ve seen him when he came back for the holidays, but don’t really have any memories of him except for what my dad told me about their high school days. I just wish there was something I could do for him. Even though it’s not my best friend who passed away, I can almost feel what it would be like if it was one of my best friends from elementary school who I got the news about. I would be devastated. Life is oh so fragile. Things happen, things you can’t control. You might be the nicest person ever and you could be gone in an accident that no one could anticipate.
January 8th, 2014:
I think that another reason why I would go out of my way to care for others is because I don’t really feel like I’m cared for. I know my family love me for who I am and everything, but they aren’t that empathizing. (Sorry about the whole thing on empathy, we had to learn empathy responses in school.) When I was dealing with my feelings of being a failure, they weren’t even sympathetic. It was just words to them, not feelings. Same with when I tell them I’ve been feeling depressed. They just brush it off. Even my period of headaches, they somehow make it my fault even if it is not confirmed whether it’s due to stress or my health or something else. But it’s hard to keep caring for people when you don’t get reciprocated. All my energy I would put into them and I’m left drained. Not being understood makes it very difficult for me to actually reach out to them, so I withdraw.
The rest of the break was very…bland. I didn’t want to leave the house, meet up with people, go out to eat…I honestly just wanted to sleep everything away. I wasn’t able to sleep until 5 am for many days. Trying to sleep would just end up with me thinking too much and so I would distract myself by watching dramas or going on Facebook (anything!) until I was tired enough to fall asleep without wanting to cry about everything. The holidays didn’t feel very festive for me this year. Christmas just seemed like another day. Same with New Years. I didn’t even feel like counting down. Usually I would be the one sending texts to my friends at exactly 12:00 am on those days but it just felt so tiring and unimportant. With everything that went on, I’ve realized how I need to really make my life worthwhile. Although I wasted this winter break away in my pit of depression, life still goes on. If I die, how will I be remembered? What is it that I want to do with my life before I die?
School’s started this week and I’ve made an extra effort to do well. I force myself to sleep by 12:00 am. It may seem late, but it’s relatively early compared to the 5:00 am bedtimes I’ve been having. I also do pre-readings now of the powerpoints and review them after. I guess you could say that I don’t want to go through the feeling of failing again. However, as I do all this, I have this feeling of fear at the back of my mind. What if I’m too stupid and still fail? What if I can’t keep this up for the whole term? So many what ifs! So many chances to regret! I’m even scared to make a New Year’s resolution for fear of failing THAT. My thoughts are still a tornado, but I just know one thing: I need to try no matter what. “Never give up”. Such simple words yet so difficult to do when you’re beaten up and tired. I guess sometimes you just have to be like Dory in Finding Nemo: Just keep swimming, just keep swimming~