Ramblings
The one thing good about my blog is that I can get things off my chest. But in that is also its weakness. I don't need people telling me 'I feel your pain' cause you don't. I don't need anyone saying 'I'll be your pillar' cause you won't. That's why, I find that it sucks to be me sometimes. When I look at others, I envy them. To simply put it, they are simple. Their worries in life dials down to the next day and they can go through everyday, enjoying and complaining about the most trivial things.
I'm self analytical, that's the problem. I won't humble myself down by saying otherwise. I'm smart, hopeful and have the ability to do things I want to. But at the same time, lazy, unfocused and basically scared of what I know is coming for me. In my mind, I see myself, twenty years later, still fat and pathetic. I wake up in bed, alone and drags myself to the same laptop I'm using now and begin racking my brains for chapter one of a novel that will never see the light of day. Unemployment also comes to my mind.
Now, during the most uneventful part of the holidays, I go to bed with a mind rattled with thoughts. And I realized just how alone I am. Growing up, I was virtually alone. My family was just a circus of fake smiles and my mother was hardly ever home. I never denied I had a deprived childhood because that's not all that far from the truth. Watching television to kill time and exploring that large mansion I called home, climbing onto rooftops and watching the cloud go by, these were how most of my childhood days were spent. Even when I'm taken to the park I was alone. Riding down the hills at top speed only to go up and down again. Even while in childcare I would be found by myself during nap time. Wandering the corridors and eavesdropping on the conversation held by the adults. Yes, my childhood was lonely, I can't describe it as anything else.
Now that I think about it, I'm scared. When I lie in my bed at night, all alone with the rattling sound of a malfunctioning fan, it dawns on me just how close I was to going back to that dreadful life. It is the first time since a long while, when I've truly felt such unyielding fear. I'd scream my lungs out into the walls of the room only to have them bounce right back to me and this pressure keeps building up within me, telling me I'm alone, unloved, and that would be how you'll stay until the day you die. Even though I had accepted that possibility, I still find myself, kicking and screaming and pulling my hair out as I laid in the dark confines of my room. The silence and the lack of warmth drove me insane.
I've never been hugged, or kissed, not even a light peck on the cheeks. I can't remember ever crying into someone's shoulder or even when was it I last held hands with a person who cared. I don't recall ever going and leaving school with a friend or the slightest inkling of being noticed throughout my primary school life. I do however remember being punched and kicked. I remember the cold steel pole running down my back as I was being tied to the netball post. I remember hiding in the small corner of my room, holding back my tears as I watched my drunk father scolding my mother with my sister as a baby, crying in the corner. I remember how while in my father's car alone, I was told of my step family. Two news only came after I entered primary school. I was told that my nanny, who had cared for me and my sister so much was not on vacation, but was fired by my father. I was then informed of that my great grandmother, who had cradled me when I was a kid had not gone to Malaysia but had passed on. Those were not things a seven year old should be hearing.
After that, my dad switched my school and I had to leave behind my friends. From there on, I had to endure through four years of emotional hell. I could endure the beatings., the constant dragging through the mud every recess and even the cruel names used on me. I learned the word 'fuck' when I was nine. The worst part was, until Primary 5, I was thrown aside in everything. I had no teachers who supported me. The principal never believe a word I said. My father would scold me, be it right or wrong. Somewhere along that line, I think I cracked. Sure, if you look at it now, my life is great. Friends, family, they're all there. But, I remember just how easily that thread cut be cut, and I'm afraid. I put a distance to everyone I know cause I'm afraid that if I ever have to go back to the God forsaken place again, I'll be hurt so bad I'll die crying.
But the biggest thing on my mind, as with anyone my age is finding a girl. What am I suppose to feel here? I don't know. I've never had that feeling being pushed on me or out from me before. I don't know what I'm suppose to do. Is it really all that it's cracked up to be? Will this person really stay by your side under all storms? It sounds nice. But...do I deserve it? Do I even know how to give it?
Argh! This rambling is getting me nowhere. I'm going out for a run!
Aden saw the light at 12:42 AM
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