Quiet reflections on life

Lack of updates because I was living my life haha. I finally had one good night of sleep after what, 2-3 weeks? The upcoming week will be bad though- final interviews, two presentations, and hopefully completing a few personal things- the amount of preparation and sleeplessness that I’m anticipating, because I have a tendency to overprepare (26 pages of interview questions -.-). Work load wise it is not that much, it’s just the constant going out and being human-functional that is a drag on my energy levels I guess, sometimes when I’m really tired I don’t even want to put on makeup. It is just concealer, brow tint and lip balm, and then I look at myself in the mirror a few hours later and go “wow that was a bad decision.”

The fact that I always want things to be good means there’s a lot of internal pressure that I’m trying to regulate because I know that when I try to do more things, things that I wouldn’t have done last semester, things will give way and I can’t function at the same speed as before. A thought was in my head as I was heading home last night, what is my biggest fear in life? I guess my biggest fear is that one day, I will choose to die. I am not afraid of death- particularly in the last year, I have been doing what I want to do, which means that in ten years or so I can anticipate some sort of meaning being created. I am afraid that I will bend and then break under pressure (I also bought a hardcopy of Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl, re-reading it!)

That could be anything from not sleeping for five days, or terrible sleep for two months, and then waking up with a cold feeling in my chest and that sensation of my airways being constricted, and understanding that if I am going to live my life out like this, then I am better off not feeling, not thinking, not ‘being’ anymore. I doubt there will be concentration camps in the future- I hope humanity has passed that stage. But if there are, I might be one of the first to give up on life. I hold on tenaciously to it, but am not very good at living out physical or mental suffering. I don’t think I am sputtering rubbish. I am quite tired, but I understand myself well.

In JC I was just a weirdo, although accepted because I could blend in relatively okay-ish, but now I feel a lot more…I wouldn’t say dull, but controlled and demure and it seems like the rough edges of my life was sandpapered away. I am no longer rash, although I did buy three boxes of meiji chocolate ice cream and melon flavoured melona ice cream last night. Internally, it is a whirlpool of heartbeats and fear and thoughts that won’t stop but externally, I don’t think I let any of that show, kind of like how an octopus has many limbs that keep it moving and the food supply wrapped closely around its body.

I don’t want to ask people what they think of me because people don’t tend to say exactly what they think, and we all have selective retention biases so it wouldn’t be very helpful. I wouldn’t say it is a ‘cover’ for who I really am, I think I just need a persona to hold on to so that I can live my life out, instead of staying at home all day being a neurotic cat. It is not fake, it is just me, but toned down? I guess what I mean is that I used to be different around different people, but I think increasingly, as I age, I no longer have that need to hide parts of myself, because those parts are of the past.

I feel that if people were to look at me now, they might see someone who is pleasant but a bit loner but also organized and relatively functional. I don’t know if that is the same as ‘dull’ and ‘unadventurous’, I think my idea of adventure is a little different from that of others- I would like to live on the mountainside with lots of animals and greenery, alone, in a little low-tech hut, for three months.