Monday, December 15, 2014 @ 1:13 am
Today I learnt a lot of life lessons. Today is the day I realise where I went wrong in the past nineteen years of my life (or rather just in the past six months of my life).

So it started once this morning when I had a lesson about miscommunication. My mum and I were on the same page, talking about this ice-cream called Domino that I had always bugged my mum to get for me since I was a kid whenever I'm on a trip to Myanmar. Who would've known that a happy topic like this could lead to such a heated argument. Mavis and Geraldine were confused and only knew of the place we ate the ice-cream as Eugenia but never knew the name of the ice-cream. So there went the onslaught of confused questions: is Domino's an international brand, etc.. I tried so hard to explain how the ice-cream looked and even what it contains. As the explanation went on and on everyone's expressions got gradually increasingly vexed and frustrated. Until I finally let out my frustration by hauling the big word 'dense' up from my messed up inner-thoughts and berated Mavis for nothing she could have possibly done to deserve that word. I hate myself for saying this, but of course when I first let out the word I felt a bit better for venting the frustration on somebody. Can't they just understand what I'm trying soooo hard to get at? When I used the word a second time I was a little concerned. Why am I saying such a thing? It doesn't make anything any much clearer at this point in time..? When I finally used the word a third time, Mavis broke down into tears and said, "I don't know what's wrong with her but recently she keeps doing this to me. Doesn't finish or bother to finish her explanation and starts saying mean stuff etc..."

I knew where this was going. I honestly had wondered why I had to be so agitated over such a small issue. It could be because of her annoying face which said idgaf and what I imagined to be her constantly being on the verge of rolling her eyes but whatever, none of these should have been enough to make me say something that she totally did not deserve. Hate this shit but once words get out of your mouth, they can never be withdrawn and there's no such thing as to pretend that nothing like that happened before. So it happened.

I felt sorry for her. For being yet another victim of mine whom I unintentionally hurt all the time. I really hate myself for this and I hope she hates me because that's the only right thing to do. Such a nice young girl trying to stay out of quarrels, thoughtful, helpful. How shitty a person can I actually be.

So apparently I have been a douchebag. Speaking in a condescending fashion and tone, thinking that I'm always right and above everyone else, kinda making people feel bad about themselves. God knows how much I cringe at myself when I type this. So. Utterly. Disgusted. With. Myself.

We went on discussing about the daily struggles of communication between my mum and Geraldine, how everything just keeps repeating itself. How my mum is so terrible at communicating her thoughts and ideas to the rest of the family, how the rest of the family has grown to become less and less patient when hearing her out, and how Geraldine is still unwilling to accept the fact that this is exactly how her mother works and that if my mum were to be able to change her ways, she would have done so ages ago. As a third person, everything seems to be so much clearer.

The day went well thereafter. Lots of laughter, loving scenes, happy kids, nice food, shopping, pizza for dinner, yoghurt for dinner, cute little Rudolphs posing under the pretty warm yellow spotlight...

But I had the dishonour of ruining it for everyone. It happened again, a quarrelling massacre. So as usual, Mum totally already had the intention of asking someone to run an errand for her (and that person is very obviously, if not already obvious enough, me). God knows why she had to be so sneaky about it (probably really desperate for help and trying to sound nice so that she could get what she wanted), but she finally opened her mouth about it when Geraldine probed. Why did you have to be so sneaky? Then as usual we went on describing how tedious and annoyingly pesky such errands are, having to run to the bank multiple times to fix a problem arising from miscommunication. By then I was already thinking of that time when I had to go to the bank thrice to settle such hiccups, how difficult it possibly was for Mum to do things right the first time, how difficult it was for Mum to pick up the phone and reply when she needs to, questioning the ultimate purpose of why I had to even pose such questions in the first place -- what is she doing all these for? I was pretty sure Dad and my sisters knew how bad things were and had some of such thoughts in their mind as well.

As usual, with responsibility comes trouble. Why did I have to assume that I was the one to do all these (as I have always been doing for the past nineteen years of my life)? Of course Mum was talking about how she always had time to do our stuff yet we cannot commit to such a simple task that she wants us to do only occasionally. And how when we needed money it's very easy to get and it's just there for us. Silver spoon, spoilt kids.

What continued on from here could've been stopped by me, but me being such a douchebag, I obviously had to just open my mouth and say something unpleasant. Discounting all the aggressive finger-pointing and the condescending tone with disgusting words like 'bloody' and 'freaking' interspersed in the torrential river of words forming the uncouthly dialogue, I had to tell her that the way she made us do things made us feel as though others' time can be wasted but not hers. That was it. The worst things I ever heard in the past nineteen years of my life. All came out at once. Whatever Geraldine said earlier on about me being atrociously and sickeningly condescending, my Mum was astute enough to use it right back at me, with those fiery eyes that told me she meant every word of what she said (even if she realised that I was visibly distraught by these comments earlier on). Other stuff like, how it's a waste of money to bring me up only to become more and more useless as a person (I'm sure she meant it literally to hurt, even though I would hope that she can conveniently revert her statement to say that she was referring to me being merely not helpful physically), how my sisters mirrored everything I did and how I moulded two failures who fail in the exact same way as I do, how I suck as a person and that she's only telling it to me now after nineteen years of being rotten and a pain in the neck.

I honestly never thought I deserved it. All the while I envisioned myself as or at least wished to have the A type personality; I thought it was a natural thing to me. At least I knew whatever I did, I willingly did. At least I knew that I was always willing to help, even if I grumbled a bit. But she questioned and tested my personality. That tinge of doubt literally fragmented me like never before. I always thought she knew better, and I even secretly hope that she regrets what she says about this precisely because she knows better, and she knows me.

But in life, I think people come to a rude awakening about reality. In reality, I am really not as good a person I wish I could be. In reality, I struggle to meet expectations that I set for myself and people set for me, probably because I am not cut out for greater stuff. In reality, I have sucked at being a person for the past nineteen years of my life, yet choose to believe that it's only part and parcel of growing up, and that things will never change and personalities don't move.

As a side-note, Dad was being pragmatic as usual and dug into my insecurities about my health, saying that if I continue being so pissy and temperamental, I'd get high blood pressure and obviously gonna be spending more of his money (or what he thinks is his) trying to correct the shit. Screw heredity.

I wondered what the others thought of me. I wondered what my sisters looked at me as. I used to be such an affable character. I knew Mavis adored me for being a loving, kind, angelic, god-like elder sister whom she could turn to for reliable answers and to stand up for her when she needed support. But not anymore (she said that literally when she read a cute card she made for me years ago and cringed at it just a few days ago when we were doing spring cleaning). I never actually knew what Geraldine thought of me before I turned into a grossly self-centred tyrant, but I guess this remains what she thinks of me. How much I wanted to be a great role model for my two younger sisters, I can no longer live up to my name.

But nobody can hear my cries.

When everyone in the house thinks I've morphed to become an atrociously arrogant and condescending individual, only I myself know the reason why. But these reasons, nobody ever knew.

I guess it really all began when I entered Med school. Not because I was literally high and mighty and cocky and would wish to think that I am so, but because I failed to handle expectations, the precise fear I had right from the start even before I entered that I was so clear about when I answered Prof Raj this question about challenges of becoming a doctor during the Med school entrance interview. I knew already I had such issues. Everyone ignored my subtle pleas, calling for help to reassure me that nothing would change and could change, to reassure me that whatever mistake I made midway could be pointed out and corrected. How much I wished I wouldn't lose myself in this wild pursuit I never thought I was cut out for.

And this just tells me, glares at me in the eyes, that I am truly not cut out for this. Within the short span of this semester, I have asked myself time and again, not whether I still deserve a place here, but whether I should even spend time trying to establish myself, trying to fit in. Well technically I can fit in and have found fantastic friends, but part of my head keeps telling me that I will lose myself in filling my insecurities, and I did.

If the lack of self-esteem isn't enough to put me down, the environment of being in a place where I constantly literally feel shit-like really brings me down rock bottom. I'm not blaming the environment; I'm blaming myself for not being able to handle the environment. No thanks to the people who always think you're gonna be high and mighty in the future, who give you so much false respect than you ever deserve at nineteen years and get you all big-headed with worry. I need to stop blaming. The fault lies in myself. I could have chosen or tried to handle this coolly. I could have silenced off the inner devil ringing by my ear. I could have, I should have.

Every day I feel shitty in school for not being as smart as everybody else or for a whole day of tiresome pretence to be smart and aware of what's going on, I bring home this tortured soul and try to re-establish myself and bring my mental state back to normal by actually being normal or slightly more respected at home. Nothing can give me the comfort of what I feel at home.

But not anymore. These souls tortured by me single-handedly have lost their trust and former allegiance and reverence for this kind, calm and understanding young lady. She has lost her lustre, after having repeatedly used the people around her to re-establish her confidence and put her back to where she was. Her close friends endured her new-found sarcasm, seemingly staunch stances and opinions echoing from an empty vessel, her word bank full of information that only she regards as important and not anyone else, her uninteresting, pesky, non-relatable, insignificant, even attention-seeking stories that nobody on earth wishes to hear...

I have resorted to imploring for acceptance and just... being a douchebag.

I am the only one who knows what went wrong. And yet I am the only one who can save my own soul from rotting, save myself from this endless bottomless pit. Without me, the world still functions as per normal because nobody gives a shit about my struggles anymore; I am reduced to someone who's unworthy of all the attention.

I can never shoulder enough blame, because I deserve to carry so much more blame than what I am carrying today. Today really blasted my confidence as a person, made me question hard why I even exist to waste more money and bring more torture to my family, think of how I treat people in general.

When I'm rash, I can say that I'm willing to give up all that I have now for everything that I used to have.

Then again, used to is something that doesn't exist anymore, something that can never return.

Here's to the point of no return.