Achilles' heel, or something.

Growing up, my dad constantly repeated this phrase: "Respond, don't react." He always said this because I had (and still have) the tendency to act on impulse when something happens. Basically, I don't think things through before saying things and "responding" appropriately, so more often than not, I end up being quite callous without meaning to. What often happens is this: I'll lash out at the person I deem responsible for pissing me off, then a few hours/days later, I'll mull things over and realise I acted rashly, in hindsight. This happens 99% of the time. The people who know me well enough to weather through the initial thunderstorm that is my immaturity are pretty kickass, I have to say. And thank you for sticking with me. You'd think that I'd have grown out of this bad habit by now, being 21 and stuff, but the sad reality of it is that I haven't, and I don't think I will ever make it a mile out of the irrational mind-town I inhabit and have inhabited for the past two decades. I've made one or two minute "improvements" over the past two years (thank you, Michael) by actively trying to be patient with the people who tick me off easily (usually my mum) and trying to see things from their point of view before saying anything that could potentially hurt their feelings. It works, but not all the time. I still snap sometimes (although it takes me longer to do so than before), and I always clam up and mumble/say as little as possible because talking will make me even angrier. Having to explain why I feel the way I do and reflecting on it makes my blood boil and results in me crying most of the time. I'm not sure why this is so. I refuse to put all the blame on my parents, but I'll acknowledge that part of it comes from being raised by two individuals who view talking about problems as a sign of weakness. Parents are not perfect and neither are their progeny. It's slightly easier for me to open up to a few people about the problems I'm facing, but most of the time, it's easier to brush it off with an "I'll be okay" or "Just going through a rough patch, don't worry about it." That way, fewer people will worry, right? And fewer people worrying will mean fewer questions, ergo I won't feel cornered by being pressured to talk. That's another problem. Even though the people who know about so-and-so problems that I'm facing ask questions about them, with little to zero pressure for a "right" answer, or even an answer at all, I always misinterpret the gesture as being put on the spot by a psychiatrist. It's unhealthy, I know. I've been given the "people just care about you" speech more times than I can count, and although I know it's true, I can't believe it. I instinctively get defensive when people ask me questions when I'm down, because I feel like they expect logical and "correct" answers from a person whose mind doesn't operate logically in times of distress. And if I don't deliver the correct response, I'd just be disappointing them even further.

See? I don't make sense. I know I'm nuts but it's how my brain perceives things. So... I guess you could say my perception is pretty effed up. Anyway, back to my main point (me reacting instead of responding) - does it bother me that I act like this? Yes, because it frustrates people when I lash out and am abrasive, and I dislike making people unhappy. So I pacify them by telling them I'm okay, so they won't have to worry or ask questions. Seems like a pretty crappy solution, to be honest. But it's one that has worked pretty well. As with most posts, I don't know what conclusion I'm supposed to come to. It's kind of awkward, ranting about this one thing for a while, but not knowing how to end the topic. I was quite upset at the beginning of this post but writing has calmed me down a little bit. My head and chest no longer hurt, which is nice.

8 years

I met up with a couple of old friends yesterday. I've known these girls since we were 13, and hahah, holy crap, we've been friends for 8 years - I find that so hard to believe, to be honest! Our friendship hasn't had the smoothest of rides, with arguments, passive-aggressive behaviour, and drifting apart getting the best of us at times. I'm just glad I was able to see them after so long, and I take comfort in the fact that although a lot has changed, the essentials haven't. Hahah, okay, I'll stop being cheesy now. Aside from seeing the girls, I was reunited with roti banjir... no big deal (actually, no, it's a huge deal).

Fun fact: we all go to the same orthodontist in SS15. Shoutout to Dr Jagjit for fixing our crooked teeth!

Jess and I headed to her house (sort of) in Sunway to check on her dog for a while, and man, that pooch was cute. Her name is Momo and she was extremely friendly and adorable. :) After some time, we made our way to Bangsar because we wanted to check out lunch at Antipodean. Getting to Bangsar from Subang was surprisingly quick and easy, but finding a parking spot was a huge pain in the butt. We ended up parking at Bangsar Village II and walked from the car park to Antipodean, which was bustling and lively as the lunch crowd had taken over.

Choosing something from the huge menu was difficult, but I settled on the big breakfast, which consisted of scrambled eggs, chicken sausage, mushrooms, toast, and a hash brown. The serving was surprisingly big and satisfying!

Jess had the salmon marlborough something something HAHAH I can't remember what it was called but it tasted pretty good!

We got stuck in traffic on the way back to Subang, so of course, we had to take selfies. I'm only posting the most flattering one because we look hideous in the rest, hahah!

I'm glad we got to see each other, the 3 of us. It's been a long time and I've realised that I can't not be close to them, despite all the crap that has happened. I had a really good time and look forward to seeing them again before I leave for Tassie sometime in February. :')

Oddly enough, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today and moped around the house with a cloud over my head. Sometimes you just get days where you feel... Off. Today was one of them, and it bothered me slightly more than usual because I've never had so many off days in a year as I have this year. I've lost count of the number of days where I just feel like lying on my bed and staring at the walls for the whole day, with little to no regard for anyone or anything else. Uni kept me on my feet for the most part, but now that I'm on holiday, I can actually just drape myself on the couch/bed and immerse myself in that dark, weird feeling that I can't shake off as easily as I used to. I took the K10 quiz (the Kessler psychological distress scale) on the Beyond Blue website earlier tonight, and my score was 34, which indicated a high level of distress. I snorted at the result, mostly because I'm in denial. The results page suggested that I see a GP but at this point in time, I don't want to do anything while I'm home because my parents would just fret. How do you even bring the topic up? "Hey mum and dad, I've been feeling worthless and mildly depressed for the past year or so, how about that?" Yeah, no. I've started writing in a journal again, which I've been told helps somewhat, and I'll see how things go. If nothing improves, well, I guess I'll go back to seeing the uni counsellors. 

ANYWAY, enough with my problems. My parents and I are heading to KL tomorrow for beef ball noodles, which I haven't had in about 3 years now. Wow. More noms to come!

Simmering

I'm an impatient person. I get offended extremely easily and I often take things to heart. I am the most irrational and petty human being I know. I always jump to conclusions and hold grudges against people for things they that they could do, but haven't actually done. How silly is that? Honestly, I have the maturity of an 8-year old. People like my sister and M have had a crap-tonne of experience with dealing with my BS, and why they're sticking around is beyond me. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for all of that, but if I were in their shoes, I'd probably ditch me. Ain't nobody got time fo dat! In all seriousness though, I spend a lot of my time being angry with myself for being so immature and petty yet do little to fix the problem. And when I do, it's always a "one step forward, two steps back" thing. In a nutshell, I suck. Why do I always see the worst in people, even if there isn't anything to get snarky about? Why do I worry about things that could happen instead of focusing on being happy in the moment and trusting that everything is okay? I still feel like I am the same 11-year old girl who started blogging all those years ago, the same kid with the same messed up emotions and the same ways of dealing with those emotions (aka, poorly). A close friend told me that if I wanted to do well academically, I'd have to "really want it." Similarly, if I want to get better, I have to really want it, right? And I do! I have the tools! I have the support! So why am I still stuck in this rut? Why am I always hung up over one issue or another? Do I, on some level, enjoy being miserable? What the hell, self. There is so much to be grateful for and happy about.

Sometimes I really just hate myself. Why is it so hard for me to be happy?

Curiouser and curiouser.

Over the past few weeks, I've been having bad dreams. I wouldn't call them nightmares per se because I've never woken up from any of them feeling terrified, but waking up with a teary face isn't much better either, so... I don't know. Nightmare or just a bad dream? Okay, hold on. I just Wikipedia-ed "nightmare" and it describes a nightmare as "an unpleasant dream that can cause a strong emotional response from the mind, typically of fear or horror, but also despair, anxiety, and great sadness." So I guess they are nightmares.

Anyway, the first nightmare I had in recent weeks was about my sister dying in a car accident. I had this dream days after finding out that a friend and former schoolmate of mine had passed away in a car accident. I remember waking up and taking a moment to reason with myself that it was just a dream, but in those minutes immediately following waking up, I'm generally very emotional, so I just ended up crying. And not crying in the meek, sobbing sort of way - ugly crying, with snot going everywhere and loud heaving. After being told that it was merely a dream and that my sister was alive and well, I went back to sleep, albeit feeling very unsettled. Several happy dreams followed through the weeks, including one about me eating a massive plate of nasi lemak (homesick? I think so). Last night, however, I had a dream about me wanting to buy something pricey, but my mum wasn't able to pay for it. We argued a lot in that dream, and she insisted that I didn't need this one thing (I seriously don't know what it was, but I wanted it badly) and of course, I fought back. She ended up slitting her neck and leaving behind jewellery for me to sell so that I could use the money to buy that thing I wanted. Why she had to die is completely beyond me. I woke up feeling very disturbed and distressed because it was just so visual. That image of walking into a room and seeing my mum's lifeless body with a pool of blood around her is something I won't be able to forget for a very long time. Earlier this afternoon, I dozed off while reading articles for my assignment, and dreamt about a friend who I haven't talked to in 4 months. We were 15 again, donning our prefect uniforms, and walking around our old school's grounds. We were giggly and talking about an upcoming pelantikan pengawas (prefect initiation? I don't know if that's the correct translation. I've always referred to it in its Malay term) ceremony, and who was going to be on the new committee. I awoke from the dream with mixed feelings - this person was very dear to me for a long time, and we were probably closest when we were 14 and 15, before I had moved to JB. I thought our friendship was pretty much over because I'd attempted to reconnect with them in the past, but the results weren't very fruitful. I guessed I missed them more than I thought I did. Michael suggested that I missed their companionship. I can't say he's wrong. Our seniors used to say that this friend and I were joined at the hip. But what can you do? I have no right to force this person to remain my friend if they don't want to. I suppose I haven't had a friendship like the one I had with this person since we "stopped" being friends (it's not as childish as it sounds; my vocabulary is just very limited), and I miss that special bond.

I rarely get nightmares. By rarely, I mean only a few times a year. Why I seem to be having more and more now is something I need to figure out. Maybe I have more to worry about and my subconscious is telling me that I should deal with these problems. I don't know.

Blargh

My mind is a bit too fuzzy to actually do work at the moment. I'm not particularly upset over anything, nor am I feeling ecstatic. I just feel restless and unsure. But unsure of what? I wish I knew. Maybe it's because I had too much tea today but I'm not sure how that would influence my mood and thought processes. It doesn't help that there are concepts like "shared genetic architecture" and social selection that I have to digest, which, mind you, isn't actually happening because my brain is experiencing a short circuit. All I know is that I'm looking forward to the weekend (oops, slipped a bit of Rebecca Black in there), which is thankfully a day away. If all goes well, tomorrow will be a fairly decent day at uni, with my group and I carrying out a pilot study on our crabbies. Hopefully this weird mood will pass soon enough.

Anyway, CHERRY BLOSSOMS! (I'm not making much sense at this point so I'll stop)

Bleak.

Most days are alright. Enjoyable, even. But then there's the odd day where my mind blows everything out of proportion and 'catastrophises' (in the words of my former counsellor) every thought I have. These bad spells can last from a few hours to the rest of the day, but I always feel better the morning after. I know I have many things to be thankful for... But sometimes it's hard to see past the clouds. I keep seeing it as a weakness - heck, I should be stronger. More steely. Better. I thought counselling would help, and it did, to a certain extent. I'm still coming to terms with the circumstances I am under, and reminding myself that things could be a lot worse is a small comfort. I struggle, though not every day. Far less than I used to, but I still berate myself for feeling like this on the odd occasion that I do. If you follow BBC Sherlock, you'll be familiar with this phrase: "All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock." Sometimes I feel like Mycroft Holmes was right. Someone suggested that I should "remember the happy things from before and look forward to more," and I need to keep that in mind. At the same time, I guess I need to ensure that my own happiness isn't being thrown out of the window. It's one big balancing act, really. And it's worth it. But that doesn't make it frustrating to have to deal with from time to time.