Sunday, June 24, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Rock bottom
And so I've hit rock bottom. The lows of all lows. When I look up, I see an opening but somehow I can't seem to figure out how to get there - no ladder, no rope, no stairs. I sit in the darkness and ponder, how do I get out?
I hear a voice continuously telling me to try to find a way out but somehow I've gotten accustomed to the dark. When I look up at the light, my eyes sting and I scurry to engulf them in darkness again.
The voice reminds me of others who are in worser conditions and situations but as I sit all alone at the bottom, how am I to see others problems in perspective when I can't seem to get past my own demons.
And after some time, loneliness and suffering at the whim of my downward spiral is the only existence I know - somehow, it has molded into me.
Even when a rope is extended into the abyss, I do not see it. The voice I had heard before - spoken in a tone of concern and tenderness - has taken on a sharp edge, a stern and cold tone.
The role of a victim is so much easier. It is so much easier to cry out, "I've fallen and I can't get up" then brush off the pain, get up and try once more, even if it is for the millionth time.
And so here I am, willingly wallowing in the dark, crying out for someone to understand and just listen.
I do not want to be judged, I do not want to lectured, I do not want to be pitited and mostly, I do not want to be left alone. I just want to be heard.
I hear a voice continuously telling me to try to find a way out but somehow I've gotten accustomed to the dark. When I look up at the light, my eyes sting and I scurry to engulf them in darkness again.
The voice reminds me of others who are in worser conditions and situations but as I sit all alone at the bottom, how am I to see others problems in perspective when I can't seem to get past my own demons.
And after some time, loneliness and suffering at the whim of my downward spiral is the only existence I know - somehow, it has molded into me.
Even when a rope is extended into the abyss, I do not see it. The voice I had heard before - spoken in a tone of concern and tenderness - has taken on a sharp edge, a stern and cold tone.
The role of a victim is so much easier. It is so much easier to cry out, "I've fallen and I can't get up" then brush off the pain, get up and try once more, even if it is for the millionth time.
And so here I am, willingly wallowing in the dark, crying out for someone to understand and just listen.
I do not want to be judged, I do not want to lectured, I do not want to be pitited and mostly, I do not want to be left alone. I just want to be heard.
Friday, June 01, 2007
25 going on ol' spinster
When I was young (oh, so young) I mentally pictured what my life would be in the coming years. The road in front of me was one of hope and optimism. The world was half full and not half empty. Time was definitely on my side.
I would graduate by 21, get a spectacular job and by 23 settled down and get married. So by my 10 year high school reunion, I could bring my husband and brag about my great career.
And so I planned. But life kept happening again and again, so here I am - 25 going on 26, struggling to make ends meet with a question mark of when I am able to settle down.
Life definitely did not turn out as I had eagerly planned. The road in front of me is now filled with thorns and unexpected bends and my feet are weary from the rough journey.
What I had so happily planned in my youth was only that, a plan. People say not to set goals with age but when society makes it so, its hard to get away from it.
Although from time to time, I brush off society's expectations and tell myself I'm getting there, when I sit down after a bad day, I realise how far behind I am. Not only in society's standards but my own.
So here I am trudging through each day, not sure where the future will take me in one year. Even with both scenarios playing in my head, I can't seem to find a happy ending.
But not to worry, hope still exists, it is what keeps my blistered feet walking ever-so-slowly to the unforeseable end of the road. And all I have to say is, it better be worth it.
I would graduate by 21, get a spectacular job and by 23 settled down and get married. So by my 10 year high school reunion, I could bring my husband and brag about my great career.
And so I planned. But life kept happening again and again, so here I am - 25 going on 26, struggling to make ends meet with a question mark of when I am able to settle down.
Life definitely did not turn out as I had eagerly planned. The road in front of me is now filled with thorns and unexpected bends and my feet are weary from the rough journey.
What I had so happily planned in my youth was only that, a plan. People say not to set goals with age but when society makes it so, its hard to get away from it.
Although from time to time, I brush off society's expectations and tell myself I'm getting there, when I sit down after a bad day, I realise how far behind I am. Not only in society's standards but my own.
So here I am trudging through each day, not sure where the future will take me in one year. Even with both scenarios playing in my head, I can't seem to find a happy ending.
But not to worry, hope still exists, it is what keeps my blistered feet walking ever-so-slowly to the unforeseable end of the road. And all I have to say is, it better be worth it.
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