Hi everyone, this was supposed to be posted last year, but I did not make time to finish this. So here is the post, I hope this is still relevant and enjoyable to read!
---
It's May already. ALREADY?
I don't think the sixth term is actually healthy for my mind, body, and soul. I've been sleep deprived and micro sleeping for the past three months. The campus has been a second home, and I barely could see my family. The third-year students are assigned to finish three mock trials in one go, and you to finish them all properly seemed beyond impossible. But we managed to finish two at this point, and next week we would perform our last mock trial on private law. You might find this surprising, but time turned out to fly so quickly!
Anyways, I found the sixth term to be an anomaly. With all the hectic schedule, I was rather surprised with my capability of finding time to give myself a breather before moving on to another assignment once an assignment is over. I managed to get time to watch several movies I had been dying to see ever since their trailers were released. In fact, I have been hanging out with friends (and very, very old friends) and visiting places way more frequently than before. All with a more composed feeling and more at ease. Perhaps it is thanks to my very first thought into the term; you know what, just relax and this term will pass before you know it. This thought was also a lesson I got from a Ted Talk I saw during last term's break. The speaker talked about how time would expand itself from us; we don't have to worry about time, because as long as we do want to do it, there will ALWAYS be time.
I had prepared a day each week to watch these movies, as they appeared to be screened almost at the same time. This also meant saving enough money to do so. Luckily enough, I had been saving quite the amount of money from my previous monthly allowances. So I went to the movies.
This movie is no exception in my must-watch list.
As someone who has been voicing against sexual and gender violence in a while (I would also like to thank my peers and seniors on campus for educating me and making me learn about gender-based violence), I was excited and anxious at the same time to see 27 Steps of May. I felt grateful that someone finally talked about it on the big screens, but I definitely felt unprepared to witness such pain and despair displayed by the actress. I decided to watch this by myself, as I did not feel like having any partner to share the experience with; you know, that classic problem as a cinema enthusiast when they should watch a movie with a friend that basically did not share that same cinematic etiquette.
Warning: The remaining of this post will contain SPOILERS.
The dialogs in the movies were rather minimum, they definitely stressed on the acting. I could feel the numbness of the lead actress, as she played the role of someone who had been raped and remained traumatized. She always stayed within her room, never dared to get out. In addition to her being mute, she also maintained the exact same activities daily until she discovered a hole in her wall. The wall turned out to separate two houses, so she could peek into the hole and watch her neighbor--who happened to be a magician--prepare his tricks for his performances.
They developed a weird relationship, where the magician tried to understand her and heal her from her trauma--though he had no idea what the trauma was--while she got excited about her new friend she started to distort her usual routine, making her father worried but grateful at the same time. She seemed to progress each day.
The progress suddenly spiraled down when the neighbor did something which triggered her trauma and she went on to break down for a couple of days. She did not only break herself but also her father. The climax of the movie occurred when she tried to relive her traumatizing event in front of the magician. Not long after, she finally came back to her senses and went out of her room, finally freed.
It was one of the most intense movies I have watched in 2019. I caught myself unable to breathe at some parts of the movie. The acting was very powerful and I could not comprehend how detailed the portrayal of May's struggle to get out of her haunting past was.
I believe that most of the audience was expecting a romantic experience between May and the magician, hoping that the magician can heal her. But I believe that the magician was merely a symbol of something. A struggle within May to escape her trauma. She used to be a cheerful person before she had been raped, but then she was confined deep inside her own self. The magician was an embodiment of her trying to embrace what had happened and to make herself believe that it was nobody's fault but the perpetrators. She understood later on that she could truly live again.
Not only her struggle, but the magician also symbolized the importance of delicate assistance and care for sexual violence survivors. Sexual violence such as rape created pain beyond comprehension. Senses and mind become so numb you will not realize you are alive--in fact, you live but not alive. The colors were ripped off your life, you will no longer remember about happy moments--you just simply stop recording and appreciating your life and the memories it has created. Survivors need assistance from those who are extremely patient because no matter what, healing takes a very long time.
I am very grateful that they decided to make a movie about sexual violence. It is rarely spoken of in society and people love to blame things on the victims, while the truth is they got raped merely by existing, breathing, and minding their own business. The trauma felt so real; such powerful acting by the actors.
Kudos to everyone involved in the making of this film. I felt very sad to know that it got removed from the theaters so quickly due to the lack of enthusiasm, but nevertheless, I felt grateful to ever watch it before it was entirely stripped of the movies.
Feel free to discuss about this movie in the comment section below!
- Abigail Gee
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Monday, January 13, 2020
Days at the Hospital
Friday, February 22, 2019.
I just woke up from an awful sleep - I did not sleep in a proper pose and it made my back and head hurt so much. Reaching for my handphone, I realized that I had not charged my phone last night. The worst part was I had not set the phone on speaker. It was already bright outside, and I cursed myself for not waking up earlier. The phone turned bright once again while things turned to horror for me.
Missed call from Mama: 14.
I mean, missing a call from your Mom is already scary, let alone 14?!
But then I tried to assert myself. I don't think that this is a regular series of phone calls Mom always did whenever I skipped the morning prayer.
I tried to dial her number back, and the call went through after a few rings, "Hi. Where are you? Why didn't you pick up the call?" Mom's voice sounded a bit worried and tired all mixed up. "Sorry, Mom, I had put my phone in silent and overslept. What happened?"
"Dad got admitted to the hospital this morning."
My eyes widened and I could not process anything. I asked Mom why, and she only told me he was now stable and better. Out of nowhere, I told her that I'd be there after class. But after putting much thought about it (as I have always been very indecisive), I decided to go to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, I realized I didn't even know where my dad was. I tried contacting Mom, but she didn't reply to me. She had only told me that they were on the second floor. I approached the reception desk and mentioned my dad's name. Not long after that, I saw my mom emerging from the intensive care unit. I thanked the nurse and hurriedly ran toward my mom. She looked awful and lacking sleep. I asked her how Dad was and she just told me to go to his room myself.
He was awake, but kind of spacing out. He told me he had a massive headache and he felt utterly dizzy. He felt pain around his epigastrium and so they went to the hospital. His own prognosis to his case was acute gastritis, but the doctors assumed the possibility of a heart attack. But the result wasn't out yet and we could only hope for the best. A few hours later, late at night, Dad got transferred to another hospital.
As Mom continued lacking sleep, I went there in the morning to bring my Mom some food, fresh coffee, and clean clothes and proceeded to go to my TOEFL test center; the test had been arranged months before and I had to go. But, really, I had no idea how I managed to get through it all with all the things going on in my head.
During the next few days, our relatives came to visit my Dad and brought us food, comforting us, and prayed for Dad with us. I had to go back and forth to the hospital so I could attend classes and accompanied him afterward, excusing myself from hectic group assignments that I should be doing the whole term. My friends were understanding and some even gave me cheer-up snacks.
The days seemed so long and draining all the life out of me with all the back and forth 30km trip from the campus to the hospital, but I was grateful to be of help to Mom and Dad. That was the first time I saw my Dad looking genuinely withered and I couldn't help myself being teary-eyed all the time. Mom was the heroine, though. She never once complained despite being a zombie lacking rest and just continued to accompany Dad. We were joined by my brother later when he got his days off the dorm. He was so shocked to hear this, as we agreed not to tell him until his arrival.
My Dad was placed in the ICU and since he was a commissioned officer in the army, we got our own room to rest. Behind the rooms, there was a praying room. I went there when it was time to pray, and honestly, it was the hardest thing to do since I had to go through a long corridor. This was specifically hard for me since there were many families sleeping in that corridor; on the floor. Some had prepared blankets and pillows. Nights were the worst. To know that they did not have rooms like me to rest while having the same worries as I did felt heartbreaking. I saw them comforting each other having to sleep on benches while it was very cold and unpleasant.
If anyone asked me what was the place where people prayed sincerely the most, I would go with the hospital. After all, many men God during their desperate time, and to whom else would they seek comfort other than Him? Even I was like that; I prayed so much more than I had had in a very long time.
Eventually, my Dad got his treatment and recovered. It was not that long for him to finally get back behind the driving wheel. He is a stubborn person, after all. He got discarded by the hospital, but having a heart attack once means consuming medicine for the rest of his life. He is now in better shape and still dances to tease my mom.
I realized so many things during the event. I realized how lucky and privileged I was, to be healthy and to receive so many facilities in life. Health itself is very expensive and valuable. But most importantly, I found out how I had been so ignorant about my parents. I had forgotten that they also got older and would need me eventually. This turnout event at the beginning of 2019 had led me to a stronger bond with my family throughout the year, reshaping my priorities and perspectives about life--that achievements in life are not just to reach your own dream career or to have good grades, but to cherish those you love. Even now, I think that is the most rewarding thing in life.
I know it is 2020 already and I was way behind the time to tell the story. But really, 2019 had been so kind to me with all its blessings and lessons it had not crossed my mind to do so. I also realized that I only posted one blog throughout the year, but I think I will start writing more soon.
I hope everyone is healthy and showered with love. If you do feel that way, please remember that you should cherish and be grateful for all that.
-Abigail Gee
I just woke up from an awful sleep - I did not sleep in a proper pose and it made my back and head hurt so much. Reaching for my handphone, I realized that I had not charged my phone last night. The worst part was I had not set the phone on speaker. It was already bright outside, and I cursed myself for not waking up earlier. The phone turned bright once again while things turned to horror for me.
Missed call from Mama: 14.
I mean, missing a call from your Mom is already scary, let alone 14?!
But then I tried to assert myself. I don't think that this is a regular series of phone calls Mom always did whenever I skipped the morning prayer.
I tried to dial her number back, and the call went through after a few rings, "Hi. Where are you? Why didn't you pick up the call?" Mom's voice sounded a bit worried and tired all mixed up. "Sorry, Mom, I had put my phone in silent and overslept. What happened?"
"Dad got admitted to the hospital this morning."
My eyes widened and I could not process anything. I asked Mom why, and she only told me he was now stable and better. Out of nowhere, I told her that I'd be there after class. But after putting much thought about it (as I have always been very indecisive), I decided to go to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, I realized I didn't even know where my dad was. I tried contacting Mom, but she didn't reply to me. She had only told me that they were on the second floor. I approached the reception desk and mentioned my dad's name. Not long after that, I saw my mom emerging from the intensive care unit. I thanked the nurse and hurriedly ran toward my mom. She looked awful and lacking sleep. I asked her how Dad was and she just told me to go to his room myself.
He was awake, but kind of spacing out. He told me he had a massive headache and he felt utterly dizzy. He felt pain around his epigastrium and so they went to the hospital. His own prognosis to his case was acute gastritis, but the doctors assumed the possibility of a heart attack. But the result wasn't out yet and we could only hope for the best. A few hours later, late at night, Dad got transferred to another hospital.
As Mom continued lacking sleep, I went there in the morning to bring my Mom some food, fresh coffee, and clean clothes and proceeded to go to my TOEFL test center; the test had been arranged months before and I had to go. But, really, I had no idea how I managed to get through it all with all the things going on in my head.
During the next few days, our relatives came to visit my Dad and brought us food, comforting us, and prayed for Dad with us. I had to go back and forth to the hospital so I could attend classes and accompanied him afterward, excusing myself from hectic group assignments that I should be doing the whole term. My friends were understanding and some even gave me cheer-up snacks.
The days seemed so long and draining all the life out of me with all the back and forth 30km trip from the campus to the hospital, but I was grateful to be of help to Mom and Dad. That was the first time I saw my Dad looking genuinely withered and I couldn't help myself being teary-eyed all the time. Mom was the heroine, though. She never once complained despite being a zombie lacking rest and just continued to accompany Dad. We were joined by my brother later when he got his days off the dorm. He was so shocked to hear this, as we agreed not to tell him until his arrival.
My Dad was placed in the ICU and since he was a commissioned officer in the army, we got our own room to rest. Behind the rooms, there was a praying room. I went there when it was time to pray, and honestly, it was the hardest thing to do since I had to go through a long corridor. This was specifically hard for me since there were many families sleeping in that corridor; on the floor. Some had prepared blankets and pillows. Nights were the worst. To know that they did not have rooms like me to rest while having the same worries as I did felt heartbreaking. I saw them comforting each other having to sleep on benches while it was very cold and unpleasant.
If anyone asked me what was the place where people prayed sincerely the most, I would go with the hospital. After all, many men God during their desperate time, and to whom else would they seek comfort other than Him? Even I was like that; I prayed so much more than I had had in a very long time.
Eventually, my Dad got his treatment and recovered. It was not that long for him to finally get back behind the driving wheel. He is a stubborn person, after all. He got discarded by the hospital, but having a heart attack once means consuming medicine for the rest of his life. He is now in better shape and still dances to tease my mom.
I realized so many things during the event. I realized how lucky and privileged I was, to be healthy and to receive so many facilities in life. Health itself is very expensive and valuable. But most importantly, I found out how I had been so ignorant about my parents. I had forgotten that they also got older and would need me eventually. This turnout event at the beginning of 2019 had led me to a stronger bond with my family throughout the year, reshaping my priorities and perspectives about life--that achievements in life are not just to reach your own dream career or to have good grades, but to cherish those you love. Even now, I think that is the most rewarding thing in life.
I know it is 2020 already and I was way behind the time to tell the story. But really, 2019 had been so kind to me with all its blessings and lessons it had not crossed my mind to do so. I also realized that I only posted one blog throughout the year, but I think I will start writing more soon.
I hope everyone is healthy and showered with love. If you do feel that way, please remember that you should cherish and be grateful for all that.
-Abigail Gee
Saturday, February 2, 2019
(Happy) New Year (?)
Hi everyone,
I know the title was rather misleading since a month has passed since the new year but this whole post might as well explain why it got really delayed. This entire post was the reason why I wrote it ( if this makes sense?). Anyways, here it goes.
2018 was just something.
I had no other words to describe my overall feeling about it. I just think that 2018 had been very eye-opening to me. This eye-opening experience itself was not entirely positive.
It all started with a tiny bump at the beginning of the year. I was in between choices at that moment; I needed to choose whether I would continue a legacy people had been expecting of me or I would just pursue things that would help me shine in another field. This stressed me out, as I had been very indecisive and unaware of how both options would affect me in the future.
I got into my current school with the hope of realizing my dream career. That job was all I ever wanted to be almost all my life (except the early years of elementary school when I dreamed to be an astronaut). I carefully paved my way to the top and tried to plan everything in life. But as someone who can be super curious about so many things at the same time, I was distracted from my missions during my freshman year. I ended up doing things that did not even correlate to what I wanted to become. By the way, this statement does NOT imply that the work I had done at that time was useless or in vain; it just did not match my initial goal hence the plan got a bit ruined.
Although I enjoyed my time during these activities I did and I was grateful for the experience I never really had during my high-school years and prior to them, I was a bit down since I basically put my plans on hold for almost a year. Thus, when I decided to redraw from the activities and tried to go back to what I had been pursuing, I found myself super confused.
This confusion I encountered was very unfamiliar. The first time I entered a competition in my university year, I was afraid. I did not know all these faces. I did not even know what I had been missing all this time. Negative thoughts showered me; what if my technique was no longer relevant? What if everybody already got better than me? What if I would never ever win again?
As these horrible thoughts and feelings clouded me, it got me rather demotivated. I ended up doing things half-heartedly, hoping that everything would be over in no time. I was too focused on finishing things than making sure that I finished strong. I also did not care much about what I did or if the competitions I was joining actually suited my goal or not. The urge to win something or to achieve something was way bigger than my considerations.
I realized that I longed to be useful; I longed to belong somewhere. I longed to know what I was meant to be, and now I got lost and felt completely and utterly useless.
To see my friends flourish--win competitions, attend conferences, get nominated the best student, earn outstanding grades--got the best of me. I AM a very envious person. I easily compare myself to other people. Ironically, I am very very much aware that this kind of behavior is toxic. But, believe me, it can be really hard not to see other people (especially if you are surrounded by high-achievers) are already hundreds of steps ahead of you.
This may sound very arrogant, but before this happened, I rarely lost in competitions. This got me so much confidence and helped me get through problems and challenges. Can you imagine how this kind of person reacts if faced with failures?
They break.
Not only that, I got myself in a situation where I lost to people that should not even be there. This might sound confusing and I could not really tell all the details. In short, we had a selection to be in a team for a very prestigious competition and I got in. But all my expectations fell short. Aside from internal problems, a few people that did not make it due to some reasons joined the competition as a team without the faculty knowing and secured their position in the final. I hated my teammates and resented the people who did not play fair and square.
I was very depressed and emotional during the summer break. I got away from social media, cut off communications with friends and did not reply to any single message I received. Not to mention the painful daily dose of tears. It was a painful holiday I needed to get through, accompanied by utter failures.
When summer break was over and we went back to campus, I got better eventually and studied hard. I rarely skipped class; I even had perfect attendance in some classes. I made sure I took notes in every session and reread them again. I studied even when I fell very sick during test seasons. But, apparently, life loved to make fun of me.
The cherry on top to all my failures in 2018 was when I received my online report card. Overall, I got way better scores compared to the previous terms. But I got unlucky in one subject where I FAILED.
I FAILED A CLASS. I needed to assure myself that morning when I woke up to this nightmare.
If you are not aware of my school system, here is a little information. Indonesian university grading system only recognizes the title cum laude. In my university, you can only obtain cum laude title if you can maintain your GPA above 3.5, graduate in time (3.5-4 years), and never fail a class. Even if you retake a class and manage to fulfill the other two requirements, once you fail in a class, you can NOT be a cum laude graduate.
I was horrified. I was completely down.
This left me with feeling very useless. I ended up gaining weight for punishing myself. So here I was in a state of feeling ugly, unwanted, and worthless. I did not take anything seriously. I was devastated. So much. The cycle of the previous break continued. I avoided talking to my friends because I did not want to know that they succeeded and I would be hurt. If I had to, I would and I would try to be as composed as possible though it broke me so badly.
When I tried to get up again, I asked a couple of friends to join a competition, but no one responded to me when the deadline encountered. Called them but nobody replied. Even days after we missed the deadline, they did not reach out to me. Apart from the disappointment I felt toward my friends, I was mostly disappointed at myself. Did they hate me? Did I do no good?
Fuck me, right? I suck at everything. Now the institution I dreamed to work at wouldn't even look at me. I let my parents down. What have I been doing with all the time? Why is life so unfair?
I wasted my time playing games, sleeping, and eating. Basically, I lived the rest of my holiday like a pig. Until I was required to get out of my bed and do things for a club I am currently responsible for. That was the moment when I felt like I had some good use again. The event(s) pushed me to get better. I was genuinely happy. Then, after attending the events, I got some time to contemplate. I realized something I had not earlier.
During all the things that had happened in 2018, I did not really think of MY PART in the failure I brought myself upon. Yes, I did blame and cuss at myself in the narratives, but did I really introspect? I noticed that I kept BLAMING most of the part of the failures to other people, even to my own previous choices as if they were something external. This perspective stopped me from actually IMPROVING and CORRECTING my mistakes.
I overlooked the fact that my friends have been putting their best effort in everything they are working on, while I only 'try things out' instead of seriously execute them. If I want some changes in my life, I should be the one that brings it to myself. I shouldn't spend my time identifying whose fault shit happened to me was and invest it in finding solutions and improving instead.
After this whole realization, I felt better and tried to improve things little by little. I hope to be more positive in 2019, let's just see how it goes.
With that being said, I plan to write more frequently from now on, whatever that is, one post per month MINIMUM. The content will vary, from tips, reviews, rants, and many others. I hope that my fellow readers are still out there and can share their stories, experiences, and suggestions with me too.
The tone of the blog will be much different from last years, where I sounded a lot more sugary and sweet while dark and depressive at the same time. This time, it would just be me being me; in whatever state I may be.
I need to familiarize myself with everything again. It may be tiring, but I guess it could be fun to discover old passions or new things I never expected to see--or to some extent, be.
So, happy new year?
-Abigail Gee
I know the title was rather misleading since a month has passed since the new year but this whole post might as well explain why it got really delayed. This entire post was the reason why I wrote it ( if this makes sense?). Anyways, here it goes.
2018 was just something.
I had no other words to describe my overall feeling about it. I just think that 2018 had been very eye-opening to me. This eye-opening experience itself was not entirely positive.
It all started with a tiny bump at the beginning of the year. I was in between choices at that moment; I needed to choose whether I would continue a legacy people had been expecting of me or I would just pursue things that would help me shine in another field. This stressed me out, as I had been very indecisive and unaware of how both options would affect me in the future.
I got into my current school with the hope of realizing my dream career. That job was all I ever wanted to be almost all my life (except the early years of elementary school when I dreamed to be an astronaut). I carefully paved my way to the top and tried to plan everything in life. But as someone who can be super curious about so many things at the same time, I was distracted from my missions during my freshman year. I ended up doing things that did not even correlate to what I wanted to become. By the way, this statement does NOT imply that the work I had done at that time was useless or in vain; it just did not match my initial goal hence the plan got a bit ruined.
Although I enjoyed my time during these activities I did and I was grateful for the experience I never really had during my high-school years and prior to them, I was a bit down since I basically put my plans on hold for almost a year. Thus, when I decided to redraw from the activities and tried to go back to what I had been pursuing, I found myself super confused.
This confusion I encountered was very unfamiliar. The first time I entered a competition in my university year, I was afraid. I did not know all these faces. I did not even know what I had been missing all this time. Negative thoughts showered me; what if my technique was no longer relevant? What if everybody already got better than me? What if I would never ever win again?
As these horrible thoughts and feelings clouded me, it got me rather demotivated. I ended up doing things half-heartedly, hoping that everything would be over in no time. I was too focused on finishing things than making sure that I finished strong. I also did not care much about what I did or if the competitions I was joining actually suited my goal or not. The urge to win something or to achieve something was way bigger than my considerations.
I realized that I longed to be useful; I longed to belong somewhere. I longed to know what I was meant to be, and now I got lost and felt completely and utterly useless.
To see my friends flourish--win competitions, attend conferences, get nominated the best student, earn outstanding grades--got the best of me. I AM a very envious person. I easily compare myself to other people. Ironically, I am very very much aware that this kind of behavior is toxic. But, believe me, it can be really hard not to see other people (especially if you are surrounded by high-achievers) are already hundreds of steps ahead of you.
This may sound very arrogant, but before this happened, I rarely lost in competitions. This got me so much confidence and helped me get through problems and challenges. Can you imagine how this kind of person reacts if faced with failures?
They break.
Not only that, I got myself in a situation where I lost to people that should not even be there. This might sound confusing and I could not really tell all the details. In short, we had a selection to be in a team for a very prestigious competition and I got in. But all my expectations fell short. Aside from internal problems, a few people that did not make it due to some reasons joined the competition as a team without the faculty knowing and secured their position in the final. I hated my teammates and resented the people who did not play fair and square.
I was very depressed and emotional during the summer break. I got away from social media, cut off communications with friends and did not reply to any single message I received. Not to mention the painful daily dose of tears. It was a painful holiday I needed to get through, accompanied by utter failures.
When summer break was over and we went back to campus, I got better eventually and studied hard. I rarely skipped class; I even had perfect attendance in some classes. I made sure I took notes in every session and reread them again. I studied even when I fell very sick during test seasons. But, apparently, life loved to make fun of me.
The cherry on top to all my failures in 2018 was when I received my online report card. Overall, I got way better scores compared to the previous terms. But I got unlucky in one subject where I FAILED.
I FAILED A CLASS. I needed to assure myself that morning when I woke up to this nightmare.
If you are not aware of my school system, here is a little information. Indonesian university grading system only recognizes the title cum laude. In my university, you can only obtain cum laude title if you can maintain your GPA above 3.5, graduate in time (3.5-4 years), and never fail a class. Even if you retake a class and manage to fulfill the other two requirements, once you fail in a class, you can NOT be a cum laude graduate.
I was horrified. I was completely down.
This left me with feeling very useless. I ended up gaining weight for punishing myself. So here I was in a state of feeling ugly, unwanted, and worthless. I did not take anything seriously. I was devastated. So much. The cycle of the previous break continued. I avoided talking to my friends because I did not want to know that they succeeded and I would be hurt. If I had to, I would and I would try to be as composed as possible though it broke me so badly.
When I tried to get up again, I asked a couple of friends to join a competition, but no one responded to me when the deadline encountered. Called them but nobody replied. Even days after we missed the deadline, they did not reach out to me. Apart from the disappointment I felt toward my friends, I was mostly disappointed at myself. Did they hate me? Did I do no good?
Fuck me, right? I suck at everything. Now the institution I dreamed to work at wouldn't even look at me. I let my parents down. What have I been doing with all the time? Why is life so unfair?
I wasted my time playing games, sleeping, and eating. Basically, I lived the rest of my holiday like a pig. Until I was required to get out of my bed and do things for a club I am currently responsible for. That was the moment when I felt like I had some good use again. The event(s) pushed me to get better. I was genuinely happy. Then, after attending the events, I got some time to contemplate. I realized something I had not earlier.
During all the things that had happened in 2018, I did not really think of MY PART in the failure I brought myself upon. Yes, I did blame and cuss at myself in the narratives, but did I really introspect? I noticed that I kept BLAMING most of the part of the failures to other people, even to my own previous choices as if they were something external. This perspective stopped me from actually IMPROVING and CORRECTING my mistakes.
I overlooked the fact that my friends have been putting their best effort in everything they are working on, while I only 'try things out' instead of seriously execute them. If I want some changes in my life, I should be the one that brings it to myself. I shouldn't spend my time identifying whose fault shit happened to me was and invest it in finding solutions and improving instead.
After this whole realization, I felt better and tried to improve things little by little. I hope to be more positive in 2019, let's just see how it goes.
With that being said, I plan to write more frequently from now on, whatever that is, one post per month MINIMUM. The content will vary, from tips, reviews, rants, and many others. I hope that my fellow readers are still out there and can share their stories, experiences, and suggestions with me too.
The tone of the blog will be much different from last years, where I sounded a lot more sugary and sweet while dark and depressive at the same time. This time, it would just be me being me; in whatever state I may be.
I need to familiarize myself with everything again. It may be tiring, but I guess it could be fun to discover old passions or new things I never expected to see--or to some extent, be.
So, happy new year?
-Abigail Gee
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Life Lessons in 1 Hour
Hi!
I've been preoccupied with several things these past few weeks. My mobility is higher than ever. I've gone to bed pretty late as well. It has been such a fun experience, though, as I love the adrenaline rush I feel after working on things at the same time.
That day was no different. It was Sunday and I was still required to attend a meeting. I was currently staying in the northern side of the city while the meeting is on the opposite side. As per usual, I check the online taxi fare and it showed a spectacular nominal: IDR 69k! It had only been early August and I, of course, couldn't splurge on a private ride. I needed to survive until the end of the month! So I decided to try out an alternative I honestly never tried before: Busway.
I've always loved public transportation, such as commuter lines. But I rarely traveled with busway. I guess I got traumatized the first time I tried it out in my freshman year when it took me 3 hours to get to my destination due to my poor orientation. But I decided to give it another shot today, as I got plenty of time to learn my way. I checked my Google Maps numerous times, making sure I was on the right track. It said that it would take me an hour-long trip. So there I went.
As I walked toward the bus station, I could hear someone catcalling me. I ignored the catcaller and just walked straight. He finally gave up. And by that, I learned the first lesson today: some people have not yet fully comprehended the concept of respect.
Finally, I reached the bus station and hopped on the bus. The seats were all taken, so I had to make do with holding on to the pole. Then it was time for me to change the bus. I got off the bus and on to another. When I was about to enter the bus, someone hit me in the shoulder and cut the line. I didn't want to bother about being mad at her, so I took a deep breath and just focused on the song I was listening to. After a few stops, a mother with two little boys entered the bus. I noticed the youth seemed reluctant to give up their seats. A few minutes later, knowing that nobody wanted to give their seats to the overwhelmed mother, an old woman got up and told the mother to sit down. I tried to look around and I knew that people noticed the woman's gesture but then pretended to sleep or converse right away. The mother thanked the old woman numerous times before sitting with her kids. I then learned the second lesson of the day: it would be great if everyone is considerate towards others.
One of the kids then made a noise. He blabbed about things I could not understand clearly but he was obviously loud. He kept jumping on the bus, while his younger brother was reluctant to sit on the mother's lap. You could tell from the mother's face that she was tired. She did not wear any make up, wore modest clothes, and there were sweats and she had eye bags. But she kept smiling and trying to calm her kids down by saying that they would arrive soon. Apparently they were going to Monumen Nasional. "Bentar lagi sampai monas nih, hore.." (we're already close to Monas, yay!) and then both the kids clapped. I could see her smiling from ear to ear looking at her kids. Once the bus stopped, they took off and headed to the monument. The third lesson I learned was happiness is basically very simple and modest; and it doesn't come without compromises. Once you enjoy the hurdles of life, you'll be completely and genuinely happy.
Half an hour passed and then it was time for me to get off the bus. I checked Google Maps to locate my destination; the coffee shop in Senopati. Turned out it would take me a 15 minutes travel by foot to get there. I could easily order an online taxi, but considering how much money I could save, I decided to just walk. I tried to entertain myself by looking around, enjoying how quiet Sunday mornings could be. It was enjoyable. I wore comfortable clothes and I felt pretty in it, I got to enjoy traveling around Jakarta with such cheap price, and I finally learned my last lesson in that one hour: you could really learn so many lessons when you paid attention to things that happened around you.
I hope you like this post!
-Abigail Gee
Monday, June 18, 2018
The 20-Year-Old Denise
Denise has always been unsure of herself. She never feels like she has found her right footing in anything. She wants so many things, yet she never knows where to start. She has always carefully measured every single thing before making any decisions; but most of the time, the time she takes to consider (and reconsider) is far too much hence there are rarely choices ever made. She misses out so much; she wastes too many opportunities.
She hardly remembers when it all started. Yes, all the harsh things and words the world has made her go through have been there long ago, but she never really recalled when was the first time she admit her defeat over the situations. There are a few single memories of her never really caring about what people say though they did hurt her in some ways, and she wants to know when she started doing so.
Denise opens her old diary, the one she has kept since she was fourteen. There she finds evidence of confident writings, a tasteful kind, rather than gloomy rantings. This diary, though, is accessible to everybody. So she starts comparing what she has written years ago and what she often writes about now. She is surprised to learn how different and how much she has changed, and wondered why that could happen. She had expected herself to be over-achieving by now yet she ends up having nothing in her hands at all.
It has been six years since the first entry in her diary, and now she has turned twenty. Not yet, though; she will officially turn twenty in three days. She has tried to reflect as much as she could, but she hasn't really found meaning or answers to any of these circumstances she's been having. She then starts wondering about the people she has met along the way. There are some she has never been in touch with anymore, there are some who have stayed for so long. She wishes to be able to contact them, but now that she is a coward she no longer feels the urge to reach them. But really, she cherishes them a lot. Every time she tries to recall her memories of those people, she will be all smiles. Denise will laugh on her own and tries to reconstruct the conversations she once had with them.
Not that she thinks that it is unnecessary to find them, though; she just thinks that she can do it later. She cannot figure out what to talk about, anyways. She has lost the taste and the relief when she talks to people about her problems. Her closest people won't listen; she tells them her stories when she is sad and all she gets are these very sentences, "Well, compared to my problem, yours is not that bad." or "Why won't you just be grateful for what you have become or where you are right now?" and many other denials towards her issues. Denise believes that everybody has turned into very selfish people that will never even try to understand her and help her. It may sound extreme, but she really thinks that it is the case; people think too much of themselves.
This doesn't mean that she is an exception, though. But she has tried so hard not to be that kind of person. Though expectant that she will receive the same treatment as the one she gives to people, she tries to listen to people's stories and lend them her shoulders. Unfortunately, this doesn't really give her much positive result; people are still reluctant to listen to her.
There are people who will, though, and she is very grateful for their existence. The only thing that makes it not working is that she has not really trusted them. Not that they are fake, but she just hasn't really felt that close to them. And so she decides not to believe in anyone any longer when it comes to her situations, and just casually befriends anyone while keeping them at an arm length.
She also sees her family differently as well. Denise had always found peace and love in her family. She used to think that her parents were basically the best parents in the world. She used to believe that her brother would stay lovely too. But as she grew up, she realized things she had not before; flaws of her beloved ones. Both of her parents are not saints and her brother can be so annoying and selfish. Even so, she still finds her family as the only home; she can still seek sanctuary here and they are her most trusted people on Earth. She now accepts every single part of her family members and cherishes them with all her heart--or at least what's left of it.
Even though what she thinks right now is rather sounding negative, she does not really mean it to be like that. She just has come to her senses, to be able to see reality better, to understand that she is often in a her own utopia and she has denies the truth served in front of her. She wants to be a lot mature, she wants to stand on her own feet. Denise no longer wants to be defined by someone else, but she really hasn't found it. But at least she knows that first drills. She is hopeful that this will remain this way, that she will stand strong against all the winds and lemons thrown at her, that she will find a way to love herself enough that she no longer needs to seek warmth and light from others. She wishes to be able to glow instead, and gives light and comfort to other people.
Denise closes her diary once again and smiles in relief. She looks at the window where she is served green and yellowish meadows, where the winds take her to another realm. She closes her eyes and she repels prayers for happiness, starting in her twenty.
She hardly remembers when it all started. Yes, all the harsh things and words the world has made her go through have been there long ago, but she never really recalled when was the first time she admit her defeat over the situations. There are a few single memories of her never really caring about what people say though they did hurt her in some ways, and she wants to know when she started doing so.
Denise opens her old diary, the one she has kept since she was fourteen. There she finds evidence of confident writings, a tasteful kind, rather than gloomy rantings. This diary, though, is accessible to everybody. So she starts comparing what she has written years ago and what she often writes about now. She is surprised to learn how different and how much she has changed, and wondered why that could happen. She had expected herself to be over-achieving by now yet she ends up having nothing in her hands at all.
It has been six years since the first entry in her diary, and now she has turned twenty. Not yet, though; she will officially turn twenty in three days. She has tried to reflect as much as she could, but she hasn't really found meaning or answers to any of these circumstances she's been having. She then starts wondering about the people she has met along the way. There are some she has never been in touch with anymore, there are some who have stayed for so long. She wishes to be able to contact them, but now that she is a coward she no longer feels the urge to reach them. But really, she cherishes them a lot. Every time she tries to recall her memories of those people, she will be all smiles. Denise will laugh on her own and tries to reconstruct the conversations she once had with them.
Not that she thinks that it is unnecessary to find them, though; she just thinks that she can do it later. She cannot figure out what to talk about, anyways. She has lost the taste and the relief when she talks to people about her problems. Her closest people won't listen; she tells them her stories when she is sad and all she gets are these very sentences, "Well, compared to my problem, yours is not that bad." or "Why won't you just be grateful for what you have become or where you are right now?" and many other denials towards her issues. Denise believes that everybody has turned into very selfish people that will never even try to understand her and help her. It may sound extreme, but she really thinks that it is the case; people think too much of themselves.
This doesn't mean that she is an exception, though. But she has tried so hard not to be that kind of person. Though expectant that she will receive the same treatment as the one she gives to people, she tries to listen to people's stories and lend them her shoulders. Unfortunately, this doesn't really give her much positive result; people are still reluctant to listen to her.
There are people who will, though, and she is very grateful for their existence. The only thing that makes it not working is that she has not really trusted them. Not that they are fake, but she just hasn't really felt that close to them. And so she decides not to believe in anyone any longer when it comes to her situations, and just casually befriends anyone while keeping them at an arm length.
She also sees her family differently as well. Denise had always found peace and love in her family. She used to think that her parents were basically the best parents in the world. She used to believe that her brother would stay lovely too. But as she grew up, she realized things she had not before; flaws of her beloved ones. Both of her parents are not saints and her brother can be so annoying and selfish. Even so, she still finds her family as the only home; she can still seek sanctuary here and they are her most trusted people on Earth. She now accepts every single part of her family members and cherishes them with all her heart--or at least what's left of it.
Even though what she thinks right now is rather sounding negative, she does not really mean it to be like that. She just has come to her senses, to be able to see reality better, to understand that she is often in a her own utopia and she has denies the truth served in front of her. She wants to be a lot mature, she wants to stand on her own feet. Denise no longer wants to be defined by someone else, but she really hasn't found it. But at least she knows that first drills. She is hopeful that this will remain this way, that she will stand strong against all the winds and lemons thrown at her, that she will find a way to love herself enough that she no longer needs to seek warmth and light from others. She wishes to be able to glow instead, and gives light and comfort to other people.
Denise closes her diary once again and smiles in relief. She looks at the window where she is served green and yellowish meadows, where the winds take her to another realm. She closes her eyes and she repels prayers for happiness, starting in her twenty.
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