Saturday, August 11, 2007
I'm thinking about my grandma.
There were so many times when I'd keep thinking she's so annoying, so frustrating, she doesn't understand.
But then there are times I'm so scared she'll go away I'll be physically sick.
I'm afraid she will die.
I'm afraid she won't be here anymore to tell me off or to tell me to do certain things or to fight me over the tv.
I remember when I was a kid I got woken up because during the night I'd stop breathing and then we spent a frantic minute trying to get the inhaler working, failing which she picked me up and carried me down several flights of stairs, across the road and to the doctors.
I used to have to go to the doctors almost every weekend.
I also fell down every week and scraped some body part.
She's the only one who ever knew how to make me feel better, rubbing oil, egg, dough, to get rid of nausea, fever, aches.
She slept with me for like 75% of my life because she was afraid I'd get an asthma attack in the night. She also used to pat me on the back to sleep, to get me ready for school every day, to wait for the school bus when I return. She tied my hair, iron my clothes, cooked for me, hell even bath and fed me until goodness know what age.
I don't appreciate her enough.
I look at my mom yelling at her, and I think gosh that sucks.
And then I yell at her.
My grandma's getting old.
Mom used to tell me what a mistake she made when she was young and to tell me never to make such a mistake. Never trust a guy, finish your education, get a good job.
I had a duty.
I wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend, I can have 'friends'
I didn't have many friends.
I studied instead.
Never went to camps or visits or day/night trips. Went for one dance during my entire highschool times.
Had to look after my grandma supposedly. Truth was she was looking after me.
At age 10 I stumbled across an adult chatsite and boy that was kinky. Got banned from the internet for the next 6 years.
The only person to have ever told me I was worth something was a random guy from the US.
Who's ever listened.
I wasn't very special. Wasn't very bright. Didn't get along well with people. Kindda useless, annoying, kindda naive. I wanted to be loved, yeah. To be like those people in the books who are always filled with hope and family and friends.
I did well because I worked hard, and I worked hard because I was suppose to.
I was the only one in the family expected to go to university.
To get a good job.
I don't particularly like myself.
It's very unlikely that someone else would.
At age 11 I kindda gave up being curious about things and wanting to go on trips and stuff.
Likely I have to stay, so might as well. I didn't bring back the forms to be signed or asked for money for trips unless they were for educational purposes.
At age 13 I started thanking a guy everytime he bullied me because it took too much effort, too much tears to be upset everytime he did so.
At age 14 I thought, this is my life to lead.
It's not for anyone else to live through me, and the only way I could get out was if I got independent.
I wanted to get away.
Wanted to stop thinking all I am going to be is a disappointment.
I kept feeling nauseous and thinking what is wrong with me everytime I freak out during dinners, cab rides, random lectures, random walking around. The feeling of nausea builds up until I'm so sick I can't do anything.
I missed half of last semester's class.
I have never missed a class before university, dragged myself to school even if I had a raging fever.
I just don't realise why I'm doing anything at the moment and realising that I'm not really doing anything.
There were moments so bad all I do is to curl up and yell for the noise to stop.
I feel so sick.
I can't say all this stuff infront of someone because I have to see their face. To see the disappointment.
I can't be a disappointment anymore.
This is so exhausting.
I'm tired.
I don't know what I'm doing most of the time.
To keep this stupid smile frozen on my face.
This isn't being in control.
I'm so tired.
Maybe I should print this out and read infront of my therapist.
What's the point.
Mused by Sukunami Taka around 1:16 AM
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