Overwhelmed

Why does the world overwhelm me so? I feel like I can't exist here. It gets too much sometimes. I'm not sure if anyone sees me for who I am, or who I can be. But what can you do when your good isn't good enough?

I told a friend that I feel it should be a balance, that we should sometimes overwhelm the world with our existence. In a good way, I hope. And earlier today, I was saying that I've made a lot of mistakes, but I've had a lot of fun, and if I keep hitting walls I'll just keep hitting them until I break down the wall or find an opening.

The truth is, I've found a lot of pain too. But every now and then, you wonder if anyone around you looks at you and thinks "this one's a fighter". Because I don't know if anyone knows how much of a fight I have to put up to simply exist in this world, sometimes.

And if you want an update on my love life, I just want to say these three words: What's going on?

But then again, I'm not sure. I mean, I thought to myself a few days ago. The fact that I know how to hurt and how to feel pain may not necessarily mean it's a bad thing. The ability to feel makes us human. It also means I am not jaded. Which I am glad for. I can still feel. I can still love.

And that's the thing about love. I get tired of giving, not knowing if my love means anything to the people I give it to. But maybe no one loses when it comes to love. Because, as a friend puts it, I know what love is. I actually know what it feels like. I actually know what it can do to you - the good and the bad. And not a lot of people know that. Or not a lot of people care to acknowledge that.

But the truth is, it's 6am and I'm too tired. I think this conversation needs a better time friend. Like 4am. Because 4am knows all my secrets.

More than sticks and stones

Sometimes I just want to know if there's anyone out there who feels the way I do. I know it's normal to face ups and downs, but why do I feel like flinging myself out the open window almost every day? Why do I have this innate need to imagine ending my life in one way or another, and I struggle and battle with it almost every day?

Sometimes that innate need gets so strong I literally harm myself. Although I have been able to restrain myself from doing much harm to myself in a while. In a long while. Which hasn't been easy.

Sometimes I wonder if I just allow myself to take away this self-harming ban I imposed on myself, would it make it easier to go on? Maybe the pain would distract me somehow from the pain I feel inside.

But that's just living a lie.

I'm tired of this struggle. I'm tired of waking up alone and lonely, and knowing that if I disappeared, no one would really care, and that I'd probably have done something better for the world. Sounds like a bout of self-pity, perhaps. But it's just so true. Why do I have to exist to bring negativity around this world? "You always bring people down," an ex used to say angrily. I can't help but hear those words ringing every time I feel down.

So I do what I do best. I stay away from people. And when I do interact with anyone, I throw all my worries away, pack them neatly in a box, and open them again when I am alone. For the truth is, I am a loner. Nobody knows who I am really, and nobody can accept me for who I really am.

I actually wish that there were more people who know me, who loves me, who wants me around. But it's not about quantity, they say, it's about quality. It's true, I have people around me, and I am deeply appreciative of that. I just wish people knew how much they meant to me, and I wish I was as important to them as they were to me. Because it's just as easy leaving me hanging, than to actually take the time to bother.

I shouldn't be surprised. People who claimed to love me more than anything in the world couldn't handle me. Rather than comforting me, they'd rather watch me climb over balconies as I battle internally about whether to jump. When all I need is just to hear you say "Don't." Apparently I don't mean enough to anyone for someone to say "Don't jump. I love you."

Instead, it was easier for them to just walk away, and scoff angrily and say "Do whatever you want to do." What was that? Child treatment? Someone with a mental illness is like a child? So use reverse psychology?

DOES NO ONE REALISE THE LONG TERM DAMAGE IT HAS ON THAT PERSON?

SO TITANIC IS ONE BIG BULLSHIT OF A MOVIE. "You jump, I jump." That is just creation of fiction to make people believe in this thing called love when in reality it doesn't exist.

Love doesn't exist. Maybe it does, for other people. I just don't deserve love.

I think back of all the stupid things I've done for love and I can't help but wonder why I cared. WHY. Men love bitches, they say. They even wrote a book about it. I just need to learn my lesson.

Or not.

I don't know.

All I know right now is that some days, I don't want to belong to the world. I just want to belong to someone. I want to spend rainy days just holding hands, and laughing in bed. I want to love someone with all my heart and for once, have that person love me back with all his heart.

I give up.

Maybe I'm just upset because I realised I was never really loved. By anyone. They say words can't harm you, but you have no idea.

"I'm always so proud of you, but why are you never proud of me?"
"Why should I be proud of you? You've done nothing."

I've been told I was nothing. I was worth nothing.

Now tell me, how do I go on? Where do I find strength and somehow forget these words, and be okay?

In Making Decisions

You can't be saved from tunes of the past if you keep listening to broken records.

That just totally came out of the blue, but something like that has been stuck in my mind for a very long time now.

I got very exhausted. From overthinking. Or overfeeling. Either way, I wasn't winning. I saw signs of a mixed episode - and started to worry, and then remembered that worrying was what kept me in that state for five weeks, and I started to find coping mechanisms. I was exhausted and I wanted to sleep all the time. And yet, at the same time, I was highly agitated, and restless. Like I wanted to go out instead of facing these four walls and a ceiling. Or like I wanted to get a job. Whoa. I caught myself in time. That eagerness to get a job is not necessarily a bad thing at all, but the recklessness involved in it, is. That lands a person in bad decisions and choices.

Which was also why I took some time in making a decision/choice today. And I finally made the choice, after careful consideration. But of course, I believe your heart needs to be involved in deciding things like these too. Or anything, for that matter.

But it was the indecision that made me wonder. I always thought that it was a Libran thing - that we scales need to be constantly balanced and can't be tipped either way, so we can't make a decision that weighs heavier on one end. In all honesty, I still believe it's a Libran thing. That Librans find it harder to make decisions.

But I also read that indecision is a main cause of stagnancy. When you decide NOT to decide, that in itself is a decision. And that hinders you from moving to a lot of places (or anywhere at all, for that matter) because you tend to get stuck. So sleeping on it might be a good idea, but not forever. The universe does tend to unfold but it does so on your behalf. I believe in listening to your instincts and trusting what the universe is telling you to do. That doesn't mean I've only made "right" decisions all my life. This year, for example, I have made decisions which have led me down the path I've never taken in my life before, and I sometimes wonder if they are worth it. But only time can tell if the decision(s) is/are worth it (I'd rather say this than "right") in the end. Like in deciding whether a relationship is worth saving. One can never be too sure. But we make the best out of everything we decide on, don't we?

So I suppose I know why I have yet to meet the right person. There are a bountiful of men out there - and some make the cut; they fit right into what I look for. Maybe. I don't know that for sure, but one can always hope. But maybe the universe has yet to allow me to meet them, because in some twisted cosmic way that makes so much sense, it wants me to be able to sort my indecision problem out first before I'm allowed to meet them. What is the point of meeting them, if I can't make decisions based on what I see or feel or want or need? And it doesn't necessarily even mean it has to be a handful of men. It could be just one guy, but if I can't decide on whether he's the right one, then my indecision or rather, inability to make decisions and choices, would hinder me from making the decision that would be "worthy".

Besides, making a decision with a broken heart is not exactly the best thing. You tend to get a clouded judgement. It either ends great or it ends horribly bad. You can meet someone, have great chemistry, and somehow believe that he/she is the one because you've had strings of broken relationships. You'd probably hop right into bed, and it would be incredible that you'd believe he/she was meant to be the one. And that could end either way, too. OR you could be completely shut off from accepting someone into your heart because of a heartbreak. You might think (or trick yourself to believe) that you want to be with someone, but it could just be the heartbreak speaking. It could be the heartbreak telling you that the person is the one, when actually it's loneliness, and despair.

So I'm healing. And I'm healing well, actually. Sure, I have my ups and downs, but going through the motion is good. Someone said that it's better to mourn over something over a period of time, rather than just getting over it. And I completely agree. About 7 years ago, something rather traumatic happened to me and I chose to get over it very quickly. That was how I got haunted by it years down the road. It's like getting a new piercing. It takes some time to heal, and sometimes you think it has already healed but it hasn't, and you meddle with it, and that attracts trouble and germs. So, lay off that finger, stop touching that itch, let it be, and soon enough, you'll see that it's worth it in the end.

Besides, with piercings, the pain is doubled or tripled when you use a needle instead of the gun. But the risks with the gun are simply not worth it. So, I guess you can say that, with a heartbreak, we tend to choose the less painful solution, but the risks are far more dangerous.

That's not to say we shouldn't take risks. I shouldn't have used that piercing analogy anyway. I mean, life is too short to not take risks. I have been a risk taker all my life, and although I have stumbled many times (a little too many than I'd like to take into account sometimes), I have lived.

So, life's too short. Eat a cupcake.

Identity

I have come to realise that a lot of my posts will begin or contain the phrase "I have come to realise". Now isn't that a little amusing?

So... I have come to realise that one of the things that a person (I would have loved to say "woman", but I might have come off a little sexist) should never lose while being in a relationship, is his/her identity. I remember after my last break up, while talking to a close friend from my university days, she asked me this question: If the Sharon of 2008 (before the relationship started) met the Sharon of now, would they recognise each other?

When that question was asked, I was stunned. I was held back. I felt like I was being hit in the face with a fly-swatter, and those things do not even really exist anymore.

Because the truth is, that if I had to travel back in time to meet the "older" me, I would probably not recognise myself at all. Or to make horror or horrors worse, the "older" me would be shocked to see the "newer" me.

I remember, while working on my monologue for this festival, where I basically chose to bare all and tell all about my bipolar disorder, my director and I came to the conclusion that the "new" me is of course stronger. And in so many ways, when it comes to battling this illness, I definitely think that the current me is stronger. More steadfast. Knows more. And knowledge is power.

But when it comes to the issue of identity, and if I choose to analyse the "me" minus my illness and instead I choose to focus solely on the fact that I was in a relationship, I would say that the "new" me is no better than the "old" me.

I looked through old photos and old blog posts one day, very recently, and I realised that the things I used to love doing or feel strongly about, did not resonate well at all in my previous relationship. A clear example would be the fact that I felt so strongly about the state of socio-economics of this country. I care about the political "turmoil" of this country. I care about the people of this country.

My partner of three years did not even believe in voting. He was, and I believe, is still not even a registered voter.

I lost the sense of enjoyment in music while I was with my ex. We had a jarring case of difference when it came to music, and it became all too apparent. And so in a period of darkness in my life, I completely lost the ability to listen to music. And another thing I've come to realise? Is that the "me" of today is so much more open to different kinds of music, as compared to the "me" of before.

So it would be entirely awesome if I could meet someone with whom I could share the same values, and even if we don't, he would respect the fact that I cherish those values. He will not say that my struggles are in vain, or that they do not matter.

My taste in men have been a little strange, and who is to blame but myself? No, this is completely not a moment of self-pity, but instead, this is a moment of self-realisation (refer to beginning of post). I have landed in relationships whereby I allowed the men to woo me, even when I believed the relationship had no chance of working out. I always give things a chance (or two, or three), which is not necessarily a mistake. Like I said, they make you learn more about yourself.

The only thing is that I should learn from this too. After all, this year opened my eyes to the kind of men that I find attractive, regardless of their feelings towards me.

Now, that too, may not be such a good thing. I don't want to live my life pining for someone who is most likely pining for someone else. But it does help to put life into perspective a little; to help me see what kind of men I find attractive.

And another thing I learned this year? Is that we should always give things a chance. When it comes to the unknown, you feel with your heart. Allow it to go sometimes. We may be making the biggest mistake ever, but it's a risk worth taking. And this is coming from a person who has taken risks all her life; I dare say that I have lived.

My senses are definitely more open now. I know what I want.

The only drawback right now, and this is probably more from the fact that I feel alone, and I can't help it, is that it doesn't help waking up every morning feeling heavy hearted. I remember saying once that it is better to be single than unloved in a relationship. But no matter how unloved you feel in a relationship, when you give so much of yourself, you make believe that you are loved. I don't even know if that makes sense, but that's just how it works. Instead, these days I feel like I'm a gunny sack. I feel completely unattractive, and it makes me wonder why men don't see me as a woman.

Maybe it's because I hang around guys too much.

Or maybe, simply maybe, it's a case of mistaken identity.

In All Singularity

How long have I been single? About three months now, I think. I have come to the realisation that it's not about how long one has been single, it is about what that person thinks about when he/she is single. I thought that since my last blog was "dedicated" so much to my love life, or the loss of my love life, I decided that I should probably write a blog dedicated to the fact that I probably do not need a love life (I place emphasis on probably).

A lot of people need this assurance, and now I'm giving it to you:

It's perfectly okay to be single.

Of course, you don't get the perks you get when you are in a relationship. Although, when I crack my head right now to think about it, in the last months or years of the relationship(s), came down to very few anyway. Like, having someone to cook for you once in a while. Or the perk of being able to demand for sex when you want it. But remembering the nights I have come home drunk and horny and wanted sex and was rejected because the other party was too sleepy/tired, I suppose we're better off alone.

That's not to say dating or relationships are bad. They are good because they help you see who the other person is, and in that process, you learn so much more about yourself. You learn what you like about someone, and what you don't. You learn what tickles your fancy, and what doesn't. You learn that some guys have smelly feet, and that some kiss horribly.

That doesn't discount the great relationship(s) I've had in my life, although in all honesty, that probably goes down to only one. Only one relationship ended well. It wasn't the most wholesome relationship; there was a lot of giving on my end, but when it ended, at least I didn't feel like running the other person down with a Hummer.

But this is entirely my fault. I gravitate towards bad-ass men.

Dating has never been an easy game for me. I recall innocent little dates, where holding hands felt like you were stealing kisses in the stairway. I still like those moments, when you feel a certain way for someone, and when that person walks by your heart just flutters and you feel this sinking feeling in your stomach. And you blush.

But I'm digressing.

I'm not so sure how I feel about dating. And in all honesty, adding bipolar disorder to the equation makes the whole thing even more uncertain. I've had this disorder all my life, so I suppose that from the start, every guy I've dated has seen this side (or these sides) of me, but they were never well-informed of what it was. I recall a guy who, upon seeing me cry one minute and laugh the next, said that I was too unpredictable, on the "borderline of crazy".

I have a serious confession to make: I get turned on when men call me "crazy", in a good way, of course. But that's just like me admitting to the fact that I get crazily turned on when men kiss me on my ears and neck. Or stomach. I suppose the word "crazy" is not always meant to be associated with the image of a mental institution. Instead, some people see images of a carefree persona with painted colours of the rainbow.

Heh. Crazy.

I once dated a guy who said I was his technicolour TV to his usual black and white life. Needless to say, I dated him for three years.

So I'm a sucker for men who think I'm a unique specimen. For men who want me because they seem to think I'm a certain way. For men who see the zany side of me.

But sadly, guys, I also have this other side of me. So dating with bipolar disorder has never been the easiest of things to do. I've fallen into this pattern, and I've come to recognise it over the years: men tend to fall for me when I'm manic, because I'm all hyper and crazy, and I can out-talk you, outsmart you, outrun you, out-kiss you. And then they run away at the first sign of a downswing. Some try to stay around. They dismiss it as a sign of a normal womanly mood swing - like PMS or something. And then they realise that that wasn't the case; that they had something more in their hands, and they run. And for once, they couldn't be outrun anymore. They couldn't be out-talked, or outsmarted. They couldn't be outrun. Because when I'm on a downswing, I sometimes can't even be bothered to get out of my bed to chase you.

And I normally wouldn't, anyway.

Patience is a very hard thing to have. Patience in finding the right person. In finding even one man who would give me the chance, to see if things could work out. I suppose this always goes down to the fact that he's just not that into me.

Letting go of feelings is always an easier said than done thing to do. But it is possible. And unlike other girls, I still like keeping men who do not see me that way, around. Because life isn't always about finding love. Some men are great as friends too, right?

It's not me who's doing the friendzoning. It seems like it's them. Although in all honesty, I've only been friendzoned once.

And it sucked big time.