College, finally

During those two years I was idle, there were many instances where I missed school, the learning, the assignments, doing math while listening to music and actually doing something. Doing almost nothing for 24 months does get boring, but I did learn to play piano and drive. I fucked it up for myself by transferring five months before graduating.

It's mostly my fault because I thought I could get by school without emotional support a.k.a. friends. I think it was too early for me too find my own path instead of relying on peers and popularity. I did what I liked regardless of what other people thought of me. That attitude is more suited for college. I was too stiff and respected myself too much to do things just because everyone else did them. However, on some occasions, I did give in and become corrupted. This was very effective in isolating me, despite my efforts to socialize by going to the cinema together or asking what they're doing on the weekend. After efforts on my part, the others failed to include me out of their own incentive. Where does that put me? I am most lonely when I sit with other people; that was how I felt. Being different means being alone. I think that's involved in why I very rarely miss someone, or become homesick. I don't allow myself to open up to anyone or let them get too close to me. What's more, I enjoyed none of the activities at school. Alone in Biology, a subject I'm very fond of, taught by an incapable strumpet. Surrounded by retards in Chemistry. Nothing excited me. I pushed myself too hard, I wasn't strong enough....to ask for help. A nervous breakdown did it for me. I couldn't stop sobbing, not crying. That started it all. The disease was set. The symptoms came five months later. I lay in bed 15 hours or more, lethargy, restlessness. Lost 5 kg. I get fits and thoughts of savagery and violence. Suicidal because I thought I couldn't get out of this feeling, that there was no hope for me, but I was thoughtful enough to think of the grief I would cause and wondered about the means to do it. I guess there was some self-esteem, I thought I was worth something to someone, which means I knew someone loved me and it saved me. I just played PlayStation and collected porn. My mom kept nagging: when are you doing TOEFL? why don't you pick garbage for a living? Wow! That's very motherly of you. Great job! It's like she hit me, but felt the pain a few minutes later and let it boil inside me so I could upgrade it to anger and then hate. Many of my dreams have me verbally abusing my mother and I had urges to bite a chunk of her flesh. I joined Subud and asked Allah to guide me. I exercised, ate well, tok vitamins and supplements and changed myself through cognitive behaviour therapy. One of the problems I knew I had was that I thought too much. I savor thoughts in my noggin and drain them of their logic and reason until I am satisfied. I did this entirely by myself, which could have been more agreeable if i had discussed it with someone. Leading to conclusions with no reference will lead to distortions, which is exactly what I'm doing right now. I analyze myself and don't cross-check with other opinions and experiences. This leads to another problem: I have no motivation to share. Thoughts, feelings, emotions, experiences, memories, I kept it all to myself. That's just how I am, from the start at least; maybe it'll change in time. I have to accept the blissful and pointless laws in the social world if I want to survive it. My biggest fear was becoming one of them: those cliques, they move, dress and think alike. I look down on them, but I realize now I'm no better than them.




Another reason I was inactive is because the school I graduated from couldn't give me a diploma. they weren't accredited by the government yet. I got one as soon as they became accredited and it wasn't a good reason....ahem excuse anymore. I always said that everything will be better when I get to college. I took some time to adjust to, with relapses and bad days, but recently I've been feeling very fine. I think it's the routine, keeps myself from going inwards. I go to the classes because my parents are paying for them. People are nice and friendly in a superficial manner, they don't mean it, it's pointless, illogical, wasteful, hypocritical and stupid. I value things in their purpose and efficiency.

"How are you?"
"I want to die, yourself?"
"Good, thanks"

At first, it didn't feel real, this whole experience. It felt like I left myself in Jakarta or Bangkok and I was seeing through someone else's eyes. Maybe because I've been yearning and dreaming for this part of my life for so long. Perhaps, when I come back for holidays, I'll catch up with myself. It feels natural somehow, like I got back on track...