A Euology for the Past Year

I think January leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's cold, gets dark after 5 PM, and is less than hopeful. I say this because it's the first month of the twelve, and it's the month where everything has a chance to rewrite itself. After Christmas and New Year's, it feels like someone hiked all the way up a mountain and then rolls back down to abyss. It reminds me of a Greek myth where Sisyphus, the sinner, was cursed to roll a boulder up a mountain with extreme effort, only to watch it roll back down again and start over for eternity. 

I anticipate the 26th of January, because it is the anniversary of where my life changed for what I believe was for the better, It was a long journey from that day until now, and I remember that the 26th of January was an awakening of suffering that I knew that I was going to have to mentally endure for the upcoming months. And even though I didn't think I was going to make it....I did. I was introduced to a lot of anxiety, but I can't say that I necessarily regret it. My anxiety made me open my eyes to who was really there for me and showed me how falsely I had lived the past six years of my life. I hated being quietly put down but a few "friends" who thought I could handle it because of the way I looked. Being "Asian" doesn't entitle others to racially stereotype you, even if they believe that they have the privilege to do so just because you are friends. Your small jab could actually be very hurtful to others, and I'm not telling anyone to "toughen up". Some people can, and some people can not. 

There were many things that others who were not involved told me to do. Some of these suggestions included talking to them, trying to make amends, or forgetting them and moving on with life. Yes, making amends works if both parties want to, but if it's not a misunderstanding and just cruel, why on Earth would you want to make amends? If it just hurts somebody to think about it, why would you want to re-open that wound? Six years of my life wasted - it was not a misunderstanding, I believe it was simply meant to be. So I ignored their calls, moved on with my life and for some wonderful reason....I started to feel a lot better. I realized how caged I had been with them. Without them, I was a new person. I could have my own opinions and beliefs without getting bashed, listen to whatever I wanted to, draw whatever I liked. I could watch whatever I wanted, dress how I liked, and be truly happy. Being away from them really opened me up to a new world. Thus, I anticipate the 26th because that's how my last year started: absolutely miserable. 

Being alone is okay.

I don't find anything wrong with being alone to get your thoughts down. Being alone to breathe the air that you surround yourself with, to close your eyes and feel the breeze brush past your arms as you stretch them far up past the sun . . . it's kind of nice sometimes to not have to constantly worry about how I'm viewed or whether or not I've made an "impact" on others. Really though...who really cares, right?

But being alone for too long?

His name is loneliness, that old friend who greets you at the porch step. He's that friend that at first, was there to comfort you and held you when you needed to get your thoughts out. This is the friend whose hand feels both tight and comfortable in yours as you walk around the house. Actually, if you spend enough time with this friend, he becomes more than that. He's much more intimate. He holds you when you cry, tries to kiss your tears away and tries to inspire you to make better art, write better stories, and to cherish your own self worth.

But he's also the friend who overstays his welcome and doesn't know his limits. He monitors your every move, and makes you unable to break free from him. Because he's constantly by your side, you don't know anything better but him. But it's hard because loneliness knows everything about you: he knows why you're like this, he knows why you're struggling. He knows your anxiety and your fears, and picks at your insecurities even though you don't want him to. You depend on him, but secretly, you want him to leave again, to say good bye at the porch step he arrived on. 

I don't know much anymore.

I just know and feel that I continue to give advice to others who are younger and ask for it because it's an obligation. I can not say no to it, because it gives me a reason to feel important even though I don't truly feel that way about myself nearly enough. I do it because I know that if I were younger and wanted to rant, I would have wanted somebody to hear me out as well. Also, even if I'm having a relatively horrible or depressing day, if I can at least make one person's day a little less of a living hell, then at least that is one less person who has to feel what I am feeling.

Truthfully, I'm just a mess right now. I'm tied down to too many things, I care too much about the little details, and worry about the smallest happenings. I believe that this is my Eulogy for the past year, but also the Encore to whatever this is.

In reference to my last blog post, I really feel as if I've crawled back down into my box and made sure to close the flaps of it. Maybe in the spring time when it starts getting warmer, I might open it back up again to feel a little bit more sunshine and warmth. But right now in January, I don't think I'm ready for that yet.