Things Don't Make Sense

The thing with depression is that you never realize you're getting there until you're in it. It's never an overnight turn of events (though that may be the trigger) but it's that moment when your brain is screaming at you with white noise at 3am in the morning and tears are streaming down your face and breathing becomes a problem that you hit the brakes and think to yourself, "Oh god, I'm in depression."

Of course that may be just me.

No one ever likes talking about depression because it's not a fun topic. No one would expect me to have depression either, because I'm not exactly unfamiliar with unicorns and rainbows and preppy bright colors. I wouldn't have thought I'd ever be here again. I thought depression was just something that you can get over once and build an immunity to, like chickenpox.

There is nothing strong about being in depression. People might discuss this whole concept in a classroom or in a group and someone might say, "Oh, you must be so strong to have gone through depression." It's nothing to be proud of. It's not a shining success to put on your resumé. It wasn't a conscious effort to cry myself to sleep and wake up before the sky grows light and throw on some clothes to go for classes in the cold. It was just routine. It allowed my mind to be on autopilot. It allowed myself to grab the cup of coffee and chug it so I can pretend that the migraine spreading through my skull was a side effect of the coffee, not the crushing stress of being a fuck-up.

In the same way that a homosexual may say, "I may not want to fuck that person, but I can still tell that the person is attractive.", I can still decide that today is a beautiful cool fall day, with the warm sun shining through the sparse clouds and the chilly wind calmly blowing into my hair to give it that attractive bouncy air. This does not mean that suddenly my life is all glitter and happiness and everything-in-the-world-is-right.

Often I wonder if I'm just too weak to make it, or if the world is cruel and we all living like this. If I am weak, then what will be the end of me? If the world is cruel, then what will be the end of us?

I find no reason to hide my depression now, possibly because I'm under the delusion that I'm so far away nothing will hurt me (though was that not one of the reasons why I'm here) and possibly because even American air smells of LIBERTY LIBERTY I DO WHAT I WANT I AM NOT SORRY FOR IT. The constant upkeep of my moods are rendered useless when I never see the people who even matter to me. I have no need to pretend to be keeping myself together when I don't even know where to begin. To my family and friends who see this, please don't worry yourself unnecessarily for me. I appreciate it, but I don't want it.

The Worst Thing About Growing Up

You see, I realize now that when my mom told me to not grow up so early, she was right. As she is with many many things.

Growing up isn't just necessarily "I'll do what I want" or "I'll make the decisions" or "It's my life" (guilty as charged). It's what comes after that, when things don't look so good and you chew on the short end of the stick muttering regrets. Mistakes happen, yes. But growing up means taking the bull by the horns and blaming no one but yourself.

I could name so many things to blame: the system, the people, the paperwork. Yet I can't, not really, only reluctantly. The only thing I can do is sigh and hope for the best. Ultimately I was the one who made the decision. Was it a good decision? No. Was it a bad decision? Probably. Should I have thought about it a lot more? Yes, but I understand at that particular moment in time I was desperate. It still isn't an excuse though, so I'll have to pay for that.

Taking responsibility for yourself is a hard course of action that isn't popular with anyone, but it is one we must take. Suffice to say, this time around I have truly learnt "I'll make the decisions" and won't ever make decisions influenced by others.

Consequences of Decisions

You know those days when you realize, deep in your heart, that you have an issue at hand, and it's between a rock and a hard place. It's between a rock and a very hard place.

I love decisions, and I hate making them. To do so is an act of responsibility, to bear the consequences of that decision.

To make a decision to eat chili pan mee, for example, when you are sick and having a sore throat, is to bear the responsibility to deal with the consequences of suffering your throat burning.

I hate even more the decisions that deal with the future. How am I to know that I have accurately dealt with the decision I was faced with? How am I to know that I have made the right choice? I've promised myself to always make my decisions with careful thought and to never regret my decisions on the basis that they were the right choices at that specific time with my current knowledge. This promise, of course, has caused myself great stress concerning all my life choices.

Fast food for dinner? Deal with the bloated tummy myself.

Spend my money on clothes? Deal with the uneasy weeks with extremely tight budgets.

Fly across the world to continue my tertiary studies alone without guidance? Deal with all the bullshit that comes along from the public university and homesickness.

I realize how easy it is to let myself go and roll in bed without a care in the world, giving nary a second thought to such decisions and instead go with "what you feel like".

Without a doubt the only thing I feel like right now is to fly straight home into the arms of loved ones and eat all the chili pan mee (and other terribly delicious Malaysian food I hungered for as I scrolled Instagram late last night) I can eat and live the rest of my life without a care in the world, watching TV shows and writing stories.

Unfortunately, that is not an option I can entertain, not even in my mind. Such is the consequence.

What can I do right now but to stop myself from breaking down and punching people in the face? Look on the bright side; look on the bright side... There is none.

Out of Steam

There is little more I can say other than how increasingly frustrated I am with my life right now. I try hard to look on the bright side all the time but falling sick is always due to stress and lord knows I'm stressed right now.

My voice is gone, and I sound like an insane mass murderer right now. I sure am feeling like a murderer.

I hate things being complicated and tentative- I am unable to decide and come up with plans efficiently. I'm unable to settle down and grit my teeth and say, "Let's get it over with.". I am unable to call for plans of action.

And when my life seems complicated and unsure, I lose motivation. Like a steam engine that has run out of steam. The amount of energy I need to throw myself into moving again is just too much.

My vision swims occasionally and I'm slightly concerned about my health. I don't have insurance, so if I die they won't ship my body home. Terrible, isn't it? I should live a safe, hermit lifestyle and stay in my room forever. No accidents, no sickness.

It's Friday. My life is stagnant for the weekend, and it's unlikely I'd do anything more than sit at home and laze about. I should appreciate it, but I don't think I can. I miss home.

Labor Day Backyard BBQ

It's Labor Day! In America this translates to a mellow family gathering with ribs, and I was invited to join. I have the best landlady ever, no contest.

Best ribs ever. This is how barbeque sauce is supposed to taste like. This is how pork ribs are supposed to taste like. Amazing.

The family dog, Ramper. He's adorable.

Dinner. Ribs and wonderfully tasty salad. After years of only having Thousand Island sauce I only just realized how wonderful salad can taste. My landlady makes the best salads!! It even has cheeeeese!

I FOUND A MAGGI CUP.

Home made Oreo-cheesecake.

I really enjoyed my time with this white American family with food and drink talking about musicals and history and stories. It warmed my heart to see such a diverse family being together and genuinely enjoying. The joking, the smiles, the happy comments. It made me almost not want to leave.

It's a very good positive image to be exposed to. To learn that yes this family is possible. To accept that and care for people in a way that doesn't make either party want to strangle each other. No dirty looks or snide remarks.

To just hold hands and love.

I want a family like that. And I'll work towards that as hard as I can.