making marshmallows out of nothing

There's something about the end of the year. Oh it feels like I've said this already, but who cares? I'm determined to write all the way until I'm better. I want to be cured. Screw anyone who says there's no cure. There must be. God must love us enough to want us all to be happy. That's maybe why I believe that we all go to a happy place when we die. I'm so delusional. Except delusion sometimes makes people happy.

Dream big. They've been showing this stupid tagline on Star World all month long. Oh yeah yeah American Idol. Changes your life. Seriously, how can anything change? How can I wake up one day feeling like I can change the world, and the next day I feel like I can't even help myself? And again, I feel like I've said this before. Again and again, round and round, around a mulberry bush I go. So let me sum it all up: I'm sad.

I'm sad because I've done absolutely nothing good this year. The truth is, I gave up so much to do law because I really want to be a lawyer. I want to be a lawyer because I sincerely believe I can change the justice system, enhance it, and fight for human rights. Malik Imtiaz is one of my inspirations. I believe God gave me the gift of eloquence and I should use it to my maximum potential. And I really really want to be a lawyer. And then my second year came, and it was time for exams. I had a severe panic attack. The month before the exams I was crying and vomiting and huddling in bed and under desks. I needed a safe place to hide. By my third paper, I simply broke down. I called my mum and literally begged her to allow me to quit. See, all my life I had been the perfect student, scoring on average straight A's, got myself into a local university and graduated with (although not a first class) but with an above average CGPA. But I'm tired. I was just so afraid. And I had to let my dream go. Would I regret not being a lawyer? Of course. I just hope the day will come when I regain my confidence to do it again.

Right now, I'm worried of going for auditions because I'm worried I'll have a panic attack. I am, however, working on a production, and I'm thrilled and excited to be on board.

But back to this past year. I feel like I had just let my life pass me by. 2008 was a great year for me. If I could I would relive it all over again. But I can't. And 2009 hurt me a great deal. Maybe all my life of downs was compensated in 2008 and I have to wait for another ten years for it to come by again. Can I be that patient? I told myself that by the time I'm fourty and have achieved nothing in my life, I would take my own life. It's probably the only thing I really have control over. Dare I let God take control and kill me anytime he wants to? I feel like by choosing my own death, I can at least prepare myself, say goodbye to the ones that I love, and spend the rest of my days happily before saying goodbye for real. Does it really sound that delusional?

Whatever it is, I have a family to think about, and a fiance who loves me and friends whom I think care for me, so I have to face the coming year with a fake smile on my face. No parties this year; I'm in a down phase. I'd like to be around people, but some of my favourite people are off to another country, and some other of my favourite people are spending New Year's eve in another state, and the leftovers have yet to come back to me on what they will be doing.

So you know what? I'm going to spend New Year's eve alone with my fiance. We'll order some pizza, watch TV and hold hands (we're staying celibate after two pregnancy scares; in which one I had to take a urine test in a hospital after I started excreting milk from my breasts which I later found out was due to an antidepressant I was under). Too much information? I'm sorry.

After obsessing over my nose piercing for so long, I decided to yank at it because I really believed I could magically "move" it to another position (thinking back I think I was on my manic phase). It led to severe bleeding and an infection. I went to a piercing parlour today (a different one from where I got it pierced because the previous one used a gun, and I was on my manic phase and simply threw caution into the wind despite knowing it was dangerous) and the piercer had to remove the piercing to allow it to heal, before I can re-pierce it again.

So, it's a horrible way to end the year. Not to mention that our bed broke, and now my fiance and I have to sleep on the floor, because we can't afford a new bed for at least the next month or so.

Sigh.

I just want 2010 to come already, so that I can be rid of this "end of the year" December feeling. I hope strength comes at the last minute as a sign that God exists. He must! He must! I need to know this so I can continue living.

I just thought I'd share what I wrote in December 2006:

Wake me up when December ends

Another year has passed us by...

I know what I was doing a year ago. December 2005: Sobbing into my mother's arms, I apologised repeatedly because of what happened; because of my stupidity, foolishness and trust for someone that has brought trouble to me - some form of trouble that has troubled my family as well.

I know how was it like a year ago. It took me almost a year to find the courage to finally spill the beans. I had expected yelling matches. I had expected disappointment from my parents' part. I had expected them to hate me and to disown me.

"You did nothing wrong," they'd said. "All you did was place your trust on someone who betrayed that trust."

I trusted the wrong person. But how was I to know? The guilt was too overwhelming, the hurt from being betrayed too much to bear.

You place your trust on this person just once. Just once. Just once but it was too much.

Most people would be glad for December. It is, after all, a month of celebration (Christmas) and sales (year end sales). But when I'm out shopping or staring at the display in Midvalley, I feel nothing. Zilch. Empty. I look out and I see people taking pictures with the trees and I feel nothing. I look around and I see people laughing, chatting, throwing their hair away from their faces and I feel nothing.

I feel nothing because the old me died in December. A new me was born in December 2004, and died the following year. A new me was born again in December last year. And every December, I feel like another part of me dies and another part is reborn.

But how many "rebirths" can a person have? How many more Decembers do I have to go through before I can finally pose and smile in front of the ornaments or even enjoy the sales as they are? How many more Decembers do I have to go through before I can finally forget the ordeal I went through? How many more Decembers do I have to go through before I can finally let go of the past? How many more Decembers do I have to go through before I can finally forget...?

I may have forgiven him for what he did, but I will never forget.