Attachment

Time: 04:10

Aaaah. Its nearer to morning than night now, and I'm just finished with a few episodes of Grey's Anatomy. And whadyaknow, I feel loads better!

I wrote one miserable missive this afternoon, but I think I'm scratching that and writing something else right now, if I can manage without dozing off.

This afternoon, I said I'm moping. I'm hating myself for this, but I'm moping.

Well, that's going to stop. But I guess I could pinpoint that to two things, really: The panic I felt over my last paper, and the weight of realisation crashing down.

I guess that's because I finished so much earlier than everyone else, and it was about the first time I sat there for half an hour doubting myself while everyone else is scribbling away that sets me off. That half hour wait outside the hall didn't help either. But I am letting go.

All the symbolic acts are there - the handing in of the hard bound copy of my thesis to the office and watching it stamped...effectively transferring ownership to the university; a farewell dinner and hundreds of photos...

But also, it felt like I've said my farewells long ago. That what's left of me and Uni is just the packing and finishing up. I know for a fact I won't miss that place. That I've left before I physically could. But what I did not see was how it provided a crutch for me, knowing I know how to do well in there, and now I don't have that.

There's always a fear that I'm secretly a failure. To this day, I still wonder what, if any, is there I'm actually good at. That I could do for a living, to sustain myself, and that it will provide meaning to me, and to the world. How what I do will actually matter. It feels like I want to do bigger things, but right now, I feel like I'm as mediocre as mediocre goes. What am I cut out to be?

I don't know.

This self-searching begun years ago, hasn't ended, nowhere near to answers, and I'm making peace with that. Perhaps it'll be a lifelong search, but I think I'm going to be okay with it. That I can always question myself and change whenever it's needed. That's survival, right?

Thoughts of days long past, of certainty sometimes find its unwelcome presence in my mind. I was thinking that, once, I knew how to handle being myself, I knew how it's like to be single, I knew what it's like to be fat, I knew how it's like to be a student, I knew how it's like to just be me. All the self-esteem, self-image issues, all the struggles and fights...but they are not here anymore for me to hide behind.

I've changed. Some of the changes are by my own hands, true. But mostly circumstantial. I'd like to think I've learnt a lot from this past one year, the final year of university. That I will be able to handle this new me, hopefully with more grace. Always the klutz that I am, though.

It's funny isn't it? All these changes? I'm going through cognitive dissonance. This new ...situation is something I'm not used to. And I've never really thought about it because, well, I've just pushed them aside and dealt with it minutely...and I'm suddenly looking at the big picture.

You know what, I really don't know myself anymore. And who is this "myself"? Me?

Because right at this point, I can't say I'm fat. That I have self-esteem or -image issues because demmit I don't anymore...can't say I'm single and actually meant it, and perhaps the biggest of them all, that I can't say I'm a student. So yes, I'm having a hard time adjusting here.

Well, hi, identity crisis.

Am I contradicting myself? Am I rambling? Maybe I am. This is one of those I'm-on-my-own moments though.

This bites me right in my own ass, I gave someone that recently, that we don't have to do this alone. I've got people I know, love and trust...and I've tried, and tried their patience. I guess I never really believed that anyone else may be willing to be my crying shoulder. I've learnt to put my guards up. Sometimes, I wonder, why change that? Why allow myself to be vulnerable? I've been on my own all this while, and I'm doing okay...why change, except, is that enough anymore? I want more, but I'm scared. Am I trying to detach? Do I still carry that old I-don't-deserve-love thing in me? Dear God I hope not.

Okay, definitely rambling. Am I posting this? Am I?

Random

Time: 02:04

So I'm sitting here in the middle of the night playing sad songs from my music list and wondering why the hell am I up and doing this.

Few hours ago I was jittery and sort of in a hyper-mood so yes, this is the unfortunate unwinding. I don't even know why I'm blogging except there's no one around to talk with and I'm feeling a little lonely and vulnerable and typing this will provide relief and perspective, I hope.

Just thinking about family. Truth be told, I've never really gave those much thought...I've got my own little dysfunctional family unit and it works to our advantage (dad not around meaning no one over-protective, overbearing and paranoid to nag, control and curtail me) and I've always got my mom's parents and siblings as extended family, and feel secure in knowing most of them live 5 minutes away and that they will be here in a heartbeat should I holler.

But then now I wonder if that's enough. In truth, I've got all these cousins, aunts and uncles I haven't seen or talked with for over 10 years, I'm not sure I'll recognise my cousins anymore if we ever bump into each other in the streets and I'm sort of okay with that. But am I okay or have I just never gave it a thought?

I felt inclined to blame it on the fact that our elders did not put in an effort to maintain contact. Sometimes it felt like I've been divorced from my dad's family too. Estranged is the correct term, really. Like how my mom never encouraged us to send postcards, and how I know their parents didn't bother, either. It helped only 2 families lived in Kuala Lumpur, the rest of them are in either Johor, or Singapore. Sometimes, whenever I'm in Singapore, I almost willed myself into bumping into some of them just for the sake of them looking at me and knowing I've come pretty far from the awkward teenager they knew me as. But I've never considered calling them. Or wanted to.

And now I'm feeling a little sad over that loss of these people, my flesh and blood, for better or worst. We share the same surname, the same grandparents, but we may as well be strangers. It's a weird feeling. I think I've wrote about this some time ago, and that sadness never changed. Do I want to do something about it? Do we have to wait for funerals for a reunion (knowing that's the total end of the fragile link between all of us)? I don't know. I'm helpless.

I guess I should be moving on with life, finding my own ties, kindred spirits, soulmates and my own family in this world of six billion people. Life ebb and flow.

Bloody hell, I don't like how I'm feeling at the moment. This better be PMS or something.