Post Quarter Life Update

The sun was kind enough not to set me on fire, though the humidity was not to my liking. Streets were busy as usual, with bikes not caring much about keeping the traffic in order. I caught myself back in the city that never sleeps, the city that holds many of my giant dreams.

I wish I could find the perfect word to describe my situation. I could feel it at the tip of my tongue but guess my memory was that much of a loser to give up on me so quickly. There was a slight discomfort here and there, yet I found myself quite at ease. Perhaps it was the wedges; I had been practicing wearing high heels and those alike the past weeks. A poor attempt at adulting, really. Thanks to that, though, I realized that my physical balance was just...horrendous. I tripped here and there, and I could feel callouses building up on my heels. Perhaps a few scratches at the end of the day.

This naive girl also learned how to flirt! A milestone, you could say. She always hated the fact that she could not go to anyone for an embrace or romantic affirmations, but now she loves her freedom too much it worries her parents. Her prospects of getting married are there, but will she go past her prime? At least she found herself a so-called friend that would be there to tell her pseudo-romantic phrases like 'love you too'. Guess she still has so much to discover.

So many creatures here thirsty for blood. There will be wars and battles coming up to get that throne. The job requires passionate and ambitious youth, and passionate and ambitious youth they shall receive. Some of my new colleagues have gone through half of the reading materials. I barely even started. Just managed to get my hands on the books--illegally, of course. Your girl can never spend that much money except for food and clothing.

My life's motto right after entering the arena is 'fake it till you make it'. One can present things with minimum knowledge yet strong conviction. Misleading, I get it, but I guess many of us will do so just to survive. Your head should stay above the surface. You cannot drown right from the start.

This has been a childhood dream. I had imagined from an early age that I would be here. I manifested the situation. International forums and negotiations; were all scripted in the head. I have prepared myself to be here, but the fact that it has stayed a scenario makes it hard to grasp in reality. This is happening. My actions are real. It has got to be good!

But then I found myself liking this pace. That I am enough. I stopped feeding my ego and anxiety, until another hurricane decided to come along. Falling in love and getting my heart broken simultaneously got me. Crying over a guy that does not deserve it? That's for supper. Spending the entire day pretending I am not petty? Easy breakfast.

It gave me icks that I tripped easily over pebbles. This is due to the fact that I myself carry a huge rock on the back. As if it has been nothing. It did not bring me down the way these little shit did.

I cannot do this--sabotaging myself. I could feel my energy drained to its core, where else everybody catches up. Who in the world easily forgets to regulate her breathing, comme moi?

---

And it now has been two years since the whole careership sailed, but still, it gets wobbly every time. I now reached the age where people said whose frontal lobe completely develops. I find some revelations and courage to bid farewell to things that have tied me down for a decade, but apparently the direct impact was that I could not stand up well, let alone to walk away so quickly. But I managed to be the bigger person, and tried to reassemble life as it should.

So much homework on the list, despite me ticking a big one off. The shoulders still feel as heavy as they have been all these years. Expectations still build up like dandruff. I hate the fact that I can't scratch my anxiety away. And what is this, really? A ranting post---again?

Life will still fuck me up, I just have to embrace it a little bit better.

26 PLEAAAAAASE BE KIND!

- A.G.

Things I Did Not Say

It was not cowardice that stopped me from conveying things I wanted to say. It was most definitely not pity nor wishful thinking that the person might come back. I am glad that 'it' is gone from my life; would not do anything otherwise.

The sort of thing that kept me stuck was regret. It was a regret that I had not saved myself quicker before the ship sank to the bottom of the ocean. It was a regret that I had let myself suffer from the cold waves of embarrassment.

We were two ambitious people playing a stupid game for a stupid prize; in the end, it was the matter of who was dumber. I am thankful enough that I saw the signs early enough to win, but 'it' scored. A few solid points.

The past weeks, I had been angry. Enraged. My emotions were big enough to kill a person--at least in my mind.

But there I found strength. Pride, that I took the high road. I apologized for my shit instead of lying and covering up the way the other person did. I admit I hurt someone. I forgave, even when the person in question truly did not deserve it.

After a long time pondering and getting the closure I needed, I concluded that I do not care.

But a phone call from this creature, claiming the victory I fucking earned, reawakened hatred and memories of how 'it' had wronged me. Tonight, I decided that this person's existence will be reduced to a single unimportant being, an 'it'.

They said it was not worth trying to win against a pigeon at a chess game. I would let 'it' believe that 'it' won. But then again, 'it' will find a way to read this, so hear me out.

Being the bigger person sucks. It does not reward you anything but content and peace. It was hard, but I refrained from hurting anyone. Yet apparently, there will always be someone that uses your silence to their advantage, plastering up their skeletons in the walls of their straight-up lies.

'It' tells me to forget what is in the past, when 'it' is the one so badly clings onto it. What a joke.

It was not a he said she said kind of thing. It was the truth. There was no point in contesting truth--nor clarifying one. Yet apparently, there will always be someone that attempts to dictate you into seconding their narratives.

'It' said it itself. Truth is truth. I just chose to be quiet. I did not blame its bloodied hands for stabbing me in the back. I simply rose from the dead and walked away. But 'it' repaid me by making me feel like a stupid loser, when in fact 'it' gets the bigger L.

As conflicted and shitty as I am feeling right now, I am comforted by the fact that 'it' will not have it easy. 'It' gave me a torch enough to set up his world on blazing fire. Heck, 'it' itself is easily flammable--a walking problem.

Another fun part is, I do not even need to try and see how 'its' shit all ends. I know how it will go; messy, dark, and plain stupid. Just like how 'it' is.

'It' has made such a great hell for itself and I will laugh watching them all crumble into dust.

A.G.

Cheesy Koreaboo Problem

I often ridicule Korean dramas that depict a couple still being in love despite being separated for years. Who the hell is still in love with a particular person from the past when they are already married to their respective partners?

Guess it is a shame to admit that now I know how that feels. That many times, feelings do not just disappear. They come and go, yes. But will you be able to love someone even when fate makes fun of you by drifting both of you apart? Apparently, you will.

It would be a great thing to rediscover love, really, if it was reciprocal. However, there was another possibility. Loving someone who does not deserve it--the most ironic love there is. 

When you are in such a situation, you often forget that you deserve to be loved as well; or at least your feelings should be appreciated. One can be trapped in a situation for years where they let themselves think that it was just the way. Many could not translate love properly, but they actually cared, right? And everything just snowballed into a huge pile of questions. Many would never really confront the other. We wanted to keep the other close, no matter the circumstances. Funny enough, these people end up suppressing their own feelings.

After all the years, many of us who suffered from a chronic unrequited love would think that we could truly let go one day. We bid our farewell many times and never really wanted to look back after crying for a few days to the point our eyes swelled. But when that particular person came to bid their own one night, asking why we disappeared, we would just let our guards down. Many of us would just pour all of our feelings out, only to receive some simple explanations.

I did not notice at that time, a very important remark from him. A remark that explained it all.

When I asked him for time to process things, he deliberately asked, 

"Oh, so now you're going to treat me the way I have treated you, huh? Being cold and distant?"

The foolish me quickly clarified and apologized. We talked for four hours that night, yet we never really found any resolution. It was another sweeping the dust under the rug. But now that I think of it turned out he was aware of things. He was aware that he was cold. He deliberately did that.

The moment I realized this, I finally was that our conversations were never conversations. They were merely interviews. A one-way update. Me asking, and him answering, mostly at times when I needed someone to talk to. I asked other friends about what they would do if a friend reached out. All of them said that they would at least ask back how the friend was. So it was not me being expectant, after all. It is common sense for friends to put in the effort.

If one could never return our feelings after all these years, yet they stayed, the last thing they could do was to be a good and caring friend. But if they failed to do even that last bit, perhaps it is time for us to ponder and reflect. Are we merely trophies?

I finally let go. I released myself from the leash that has kept me stay still all these years. I yearned for so much affectionate feedback I would never receive from him as he dwelled on his own misfortunes. And receive it I shall. The piled-up disappointment almost turned into resentment. Sadly, that moment never came. As quickly as I had fallen in love, I forgave.

That, apparently, became my greatest power.

Now my Korean drama list never looks better.

A Bit of an Update*

It is probable that no one will read this, but this is the only way to let someone know that I am in pain. I have humiliated myself by telling this to people, only to regret it.

I am aware that what I am about to say is very self-centered. You can even read how many Is that I have written so far. But I can't lie, really. I am selfish and I want to be loved and needed.

With all the adversity and change of plans this year, it was hard to really find my place in life. Knowing that I graduated not having a job, staying as a burden to my parents was the worst I could think of. I was showered with questions "Where do you work now?" "Do you have any career plans?" as if they had expected me to excel. I had too, actually--believing that I could make lemonade with any lemons life threw at me.

But I failed selections, I haven't heard anything from companies and firms I applied to. I truly had no idea how to survive in this environment. Guess this is the consequence of not being a planner, only sticking to one thing in mind.

I was confused and devastated. Still am. I tried to reassure myself that I deserve the break, I could let myself breathe for a while. That many faced similar things in this pandemic. That I might stand a chance. I took up courses and spent my time doing house chores. I got to pray more diligently as well.

But of course, I felt very much defeated. I realized how poor my skillsets were, that they were not selling enough. That I was not enough. No one really needed me as a person. No one found me useful.

I tried really, to redirect my energy and love to people I want to shower them with. This is something I am very good at; caring about other people. I asked them how they were, I spared my time whenever they needed me. It was sincere, really, because in this trying time, staying in touch is my best effort. Whenever they needed my help and I felt I could lend a hand, I would do that. I initiated to do it oftentimes because I knew how busy and overwhelmed they could be. I reassured myself that I still could do something.

In return, I didn't ask for much. I just thought that it would be nice to be appreciated. It would be nice if someone could at least ask how I was. No one has to be there for me all the time, no one has to thank me. Just remind me that I meant something.

Nevertheless, I am trying. I am trying to be alive each day, to stay functional, to stay useful. I promise you I will not stop trying. I might cry myself to sleep, or find it difficult to breathe. But I'll stick around.

I'll try to write something nice later. Perhaps a poem or prose.

Until then.

-A.G.

*perhaps a cry for help.

I Don't Like June

When you google what the best months of the year are, many will include June on the top of their lists. I can see why it appears so.

Junes are times for breaks. Moments where most can finally take a breather and truly enjoy life for a bit. Summer breaks are relatively the longest, I suppose? At least that is how it is where I live.

Don't forget the fact that this Gemini-Cancer season, many notable leaders were born (though they appear to be more on the Gemini sides). Come to think of it, Geminis are indeed cheerful, communicative, and charming. They know how to drive things the way they aspire them to be; and this is not always a negative thing.

But let's just skip the horoscopes and signs and whatnot. We need to talk about June itself. June can be said the checkpoint of a year. June tells you that you're half-way finishing the year. The perfect time for people to really reflect on how they have spent the last six months of the year and decide if they have to restrategize so all the remaining times won't turn to waste.

June is also supposed to be the perfect time to get hitched. Many weddings happen in June. Perhaps it's due to the perfect weather. Or back to the very first argument, it's where people are most vacant from their mundane work.

I used to think that I love June. Would not that be obvious, considering I was a part of the June community?

I share birthdays with these ((awesome)) people, like Lana Del Rey (before she made that controversial ignorant posts), Soekarno (before he turned into a narcissist), Benazir Bhutto (before she got killed), Jokowi (before he got terribly hated on). I mean, what could possibly go wrong with June?

Surprise, surprise. As I am writing this, I am laying on my bed, with the laptop literally on top of my lap (yes, just one lap while the other one established a strong footing). My head and neck hurt from the weird and awful position of the pillow (that I cannot bother to fix), and I have been replaying the same playlist three times now--I am specifically listening to Renee Olstead's version of Through The Fire. I would have to be honest that I believe her version is a lot better than Chaka Khan's. It sounds more intimate to me--wait, nevermind. The song has now changed into SALES' Chinese New Year.

Wait, where was I? Ah, right. Surprise, surprise. I am now writing on how much I loathe this month.

Not sure how it all started, but I remember always feeling rather down and odd on my birthdays. Not all, of course, I remember moments when I got to celebrate with my family. Mom and Dad gave me cool CDs about the story of Muslim prophets (those were good, one of the earlier clay movies back in the days that I recollected). Or the first time (and the only time so far) I got to celebrate it with a boyfriend (who got me my first rose). Or when my crush at the time got me my first bouquet (while being aware that I liked him) along with the troubles we both had caused for the delivery guy.

Okay, some of them were actually great.

But nevertheless, I remember that one birthday when friends I considered closest didn't show up at all despite Mom's effort to cook two big batches of pasta, just because I had my period and we had to cancel the waterpark birthday celebration. Or when a similar event occurred in my high school time. Or times when I woke up sick after the whole staycation fiasco. Not many birthdays ago, I had to go through depression due to a dysfunctional team for a competition I barely understood (with only one person to hold on to, out of four other people in the team), and ended up losing after all. Many other things that happened in June, though not particularly on my birthday, have left me with a distaste for it.

I am aware that there is this pattern, that I am most bitter in particular months, including--and especially--June. Some of my most intense nights crying happened in June. June usually ends on a sour note for me.

As always, I try to analyze why. This overthinking trait of mine, I guess. I just want to make logic of things that have happened to me. Why do I hate June? Why can't I love and celebrate this moment as I should have?

The only explanation that came up to me was that I have always had too many expectations in June. I have been hopeful that I would have a blast on my birthday, that things I want to achieve--my goals, aspirations, plans--all could be realized by this time of year. I expect people dear to me can be there for me. I expect to do something somewhere the way I want it to for it. And all these expectations arise since I kind of have more time to do so.

I have also considered my lack of gratitude for it. I, perhaps, have wished too much that I ignore all the blessings I have in front of me, within my hands and reach, that may be more than I initially deserved. I overlook good things that have happened to me--my health, a complete set of family, and other socio-economic privileges.

However, I could not deny the pain my own thoughts have brought me over the past few years. Sometimes I don't exactly know what I want and it also frustrates me as much. I have always been scared of losing. Losing people, losing some kind of momentum, and all other good things. I sincerely want to feel happiest, but the series of events that led me to it, combined with my bitter soul have corrupted June in many possible ways.

I don't think this year will bring much difference. I had set many goals to fulfill this year. Big things I never expected to be within my reach. I had carefully planned it all. But then the pandemic took most away, but I prevailed. I tried to look for the silver linings and just moved on with life. I did well so far, at least until May ended.

June came along and I am now faced with hurdles of insecurities and (almost) regrets. I haven't touched my thesis again for two days now, though I plan to finish before my birthday. My mind is occupied by things that are supposed to be complementary, and I fear that Mom's concerns will come true. I have been stressed out of the outcome of my projects--which don't look that good at the moment--where they involve quite substantial people I don't want to lose trust from.

I have been getting back those old stomach cramps I would suffer from every time I stress out. I remember that even teachers in middle school thought I was making my pain up. But I really did have those cramps. Followed along by skin rashes as always. I honestly wish that the next few weeks could just be skipped, or I could have this week-long hibernation at least until my birthday ends.

Hell, I have planned to bake my own cake. I bought the equipment. I wanted to feel happy and content. But I start to doubt that I could even breathe on my birthday. I even wish that it would not be my birthday. I have been crying too tonight, but I am sad.

I just wanted to point out that I am trying to be grateful, to always stay happy, to always count my blessings. I am trying to look past my expectations. I am trying--and that's the bottom line, that's what is important. But for now, at least tonight, I decided that I don't like June. Maybe I'll change my mind--as I am a Gemini with heavy Cancer traits after all. But hey, I don't have to like it tonight.

Now as Renee Olstead's render is back on playing, I have finally come to a full circle. I honestly just wanted to write it to channel all the fidgets I have. It kinda works, actually. My heart rate has slowed down. I can feel the blood rushing back to my feet. I think I'll cry a bit more just to make sure.

I'll try to sleep on my despise of you, June. Don't worry.

Good night, everyone, except for June!

-A.G.

27 Steps of May: An Analysis

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

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

(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

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

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.

Regression?

Hi!

I still can't believe that although years have passed since the first time I ran this blog, I still come and seek sanctuary here, I'd also like to thank readers, whom I may or may not know, for reading the posts. They are kind of hopeless, I must say. All of these are just products of my negative thoughts, rants, and sadness I had no idea where to channel them.

I have been such an open book for years here, letting the whole world know about my problems and situations, which I suppose are not quite mature actions I pulled. But you see, as someone who can't really be genuine about her feelings most of the time, this is the most honest thing I could come up with.

And yes, I'm about to tell you guys virtually on what is happening in my life at the moment.

I have been so disappointed with myself recently. I used to join competitions and was rather popular for my achievements. Underneath all of the things I had earned, I had always been a not-so confident person. I might look or sound arrogant a few years ago, but believe me, I was just one messy thing that needed reassurance that things were going fine. And winning in several competitions, or serving with certain positions actually calmed me down. They made me feel like I could define myself; that I was worth of something.

After attending college, I started being more involved in committees and organizations rather than competitions. I was so into it that all the plans I had made regarding competitions just disappeared. I'd rather go to meetings than to finish a book I had just started reading; I constantly did not finish all the competitions I tried to sign up for; I dedicated most of my time for organizations and committees, increased my mobility level to its peak. I was happy for a while.

Until last year happened.

I was so involved in an organization. I was a staff in a department which served to run advocacy in many social issues. I was happy that I got to be useful for real; but really, I was rather struggling. I suddenly realized that I was faced to more a destined path; people had expected me to run for the head of department the next year, and for student body president afterwards. I was truly aware that this opportunity would shut the others; my dreams and chances of getting into any competitions I had been aiming for, so I decided to turn the position down. I applied for another position in another organization instead, which the timeline would allow me to join several competitions.

But after forgetting all the old ambitions I had, I felt kind of crippled when I returned to the 'battlefield'. I signed up for a competition I once joined when I was in high school. I had always been so passionate about speech competitions. I was a story-teller too, so being expressive in delivering my speech was not that hard.

But for the first time in my life, I was not unsure of myself; I did not believe in words I let out.

And unfortunately, it wasn't just me who didn't. Apparently the judges did not buy my words either. So they did not make me a finalist, and stopped my journey in the semifinals.

I'm sure that some of you would think, 'Why can't she just be grateful for what she did? It was rather great for someone who hadn't competed in years to get to the semifinals.'

No, it's not great for me.

I had been feeling insecure and so worthless these past few years whenever I saw someone who could run both worlds really well as I was just struggling to find my own definition of myself. No, it's not good enough.

I had always been defined with the titles and awards I won; and not being able to win made me feel even more worthless. I had lost myself. I felt really useless. I felt like I couldn't do anything. I was so mad at myself I could not even shed a tear. Why couldn't I pull it off? What went wrong? How did I make it right?

My post today won't end with me telling you guys my revelations and how I solved the problem, because I still haven't figured out how to feel or overcome the feelings. But I am coping up; still looking for ways to make it up to myself, or at least to believe in myself.

But I did realize that I didn't believe in myself enough, that I couldn't make people believe in me. I recently noticed that I couldn't really talk in public anymore. I used to be this kind of person who would happily offer people help or engage them in small conversations whenever I traveled by myself. But now, I couldn't even say sorry or thank you loudly. They would all come out as a little sigh, unnoticed.

Maybe I should try being confident. Maybe I should listen to myself. Maybe I should be more grateful to what I have and am now.

And I guess I have to seek the answer to all the maybes now.

-Abigail Gee

Being Let Down

All that is left is just sorrow and pain, a never-ending hollow that's insane.

It seems like my soul will never be familiar to the stinging pain of disappointment. I guess I have written so many stories and posts about how I was let down by the people I love(d) the most and I guess it will take many more to come to finally not give a damn about people and not to have expectations.

What kills me all the time is that all these series of being let down were done by people closest to you--or at least people who you thought to be close to you. And if it happens. you are not entitled to be sad about it; you had been warned about the consequences since a long time ago that it would hurt more if your particular beloved hurt you than your enemies did you, yet you agreed to all terms and conditions.

I wish I knew better. I have always kept cursing myself for being so stupid and dumb not to predict these kinds of outcomes from certain people, or at least to be stronger than I truly was when facing them. I wish I was given strength to keep my head held high, walk proudly away from the misery, and just laugh it off. But I could never do that. I have always been so aware of people's feelings. Ironically, I have also been wondering if they are also aware of my feelings too.

After all the episodes of crying and regretting things, I would just repeat the whole thing; all over again! That is how foolish I can be; I have always been so hopeful and optimistic towards human beings. I do understand that I have been expressing all my rants and negativity on this page, but if you also notice, I would always give myself a little bit reassurance that there will always be silver linings in all the sadness coming my way. They did make me feel better afterward, but what I hate about them is that they would not make me learn!

I just realized that my mind and heart had made such a mechanism where I could detect whether I could trust and rely on certain people and they also would give me a hunch if someone would not suit me. But I tended to see the good inside everyone. But then, turned out, it took more than just good to be someone's friend. To be friends with anyone; to know if you could trust them, also took measurement whether or not you could tolerate one's principles. People with different principles would lead to toxic relationships, where both parties constrained themselves with constant battle; of their liking towards the other against each other's values. But that does not necessarily make either of them or both of them evil. They are good; but not good for each other.

Or simply, maybe there is something wrong with me. But I wish it was not the case.

Perhaps I should trust my feelings more. Just to be cautious of what lies ahead. Perhaps I should be braver to put more distance. Just to make sure I won't jump to conclusions.

Or perhaps I should taste the bitterness of the experience, so I could be a lot stronger and slowly becoming numb.

-Abigail Gee

Happy New Year!

Happy new year, everyone!

It's been more than six months since the last time I wrote a post. I have been so busy with college since I was entrusted with something big which kept my eyes off everything else but that. College has been taken away all my time that I did not get the chance to spend some of it with my beloved ones like family, friends, and even myself. Although it was very exhausting and both mentally and physically draining, I am truly grateful for the opportunity.

Anyways, it is a brand new year. Although it's been a long time since the last time I believed that new year meant new me and I was so over the resolution thing, I recently became aware of my worth and values. I realized that I deserve to be surrounded with positive people and minds. I should not spare my time to think about those who don't respect me. I felt rejoiced to finally find and discover myself once more.

As for a new year's gift and an apology from me for not writing for so long, and my decision to become more active in writing (since it has been my passion for such a long time), I'd like to write one or two short stories in coming weeks. I am on my holidays and really, writing is a way to stay productive.

Hope you enjoy some of the writings!

Love,

-Abigail Gee

Antibiotics

Not all friendships are meant to be healthy.

Some of them are just plain bad; toxic. The person you find to be so comfortable with, slowly drowns you, bit by bit. This friend tells you all the sweet words after beating you so hard you cannot feel your limbs. This friend gives you water after feeding you with extremely hot dishes you cannot taste well any longer. This friend stays just to suck your life out of you.

But then there were moments when it was all just perfect; hours-long talks on the phone, deep, meaningful conversations, night drives that took your mind somewhere away. All the things you would want to be parts of your friendships. And all these started when this person literally saved your life without them knowing.

This person gave you hard slaps which turned out to be the only things you could digest well among all the supportive talks you had at that desperate moment; your darkest time in life. This particular friend made you, with your own bare hands, stop hurting yourself mentally and physically. This someone gave you hope that there were still people who truly cared for you. And of course you expected heated arguments. You expected both of you to be just human beings. You knew that there were never any smooth friendships, if they truly were at the first place.

You had it all in your friendship with this particular person. And little did you know, this person became your muse to all your songs, all your poems, your most significant influence to your art.

After a year separating ways with all the evil friends and your perfect friend, you met more people in life and started to figure out its meaning. You felt happier; your happiest state since a long, long time ago. You didn't talk much to each other, and your mind was busy doing all the things you were so passionate about. But then you knew that this person had a quite big part in your life, that without your friend, the puzzle would never ever be complete. So you still talked to this person once in a while, sharing random stories about what had happened in each other's life.

But then you still thought that you were missing something.

You found this person's message to be very offensive. Well, this friend is an ass, after all. You thought that it was okay since you were friends, but it seemed to cut you as deep as all those bullies had done long before. You noticed that your so-called friend barely treated you the way you saw your other friends did to each other. And you started scrolling up, and up, and up, reading all your virtual conversations, word by word. You tried to recall every single thing you both had said, trailing it down to the first time you begged for help. Yes, that afternoon when you suddenly had your typical anxiety, such panic attack that would not let you breathe. That sick thing you had had for so long, suffocating you.

It all seemed wrong. It all seemed too artificial. Had this person really done it all for you? Or you, as someone who is so expectant, had created these scenarios where he thought of you as a dear friend too rather than a patient needs to be taken care of?

Today, I came to a realization that no, it was not entirely artificial. Yes, I had so many expectations, and I had hoped that my friend could meet them. But no, I accepted this dear person for who they are, and I tried to be fluid; adaptive to this person's situations. This person did try to do the same. But in the end, we both failed to do it at all times. We were right for each other at one point, but contradicted at another.

I figured this whole friendship out. This friendship is very like antibiotics.

You see, antibiotics are kinds of medicine, designed for sickness. But you can't consume antibiotics on a daily basis. They are kinds of medicine you only take as the last resort. They are initially toxic to your body, as they are basically inhibited bacteria that causes the diseases you are currently having. The consumption of this particular drug is very strict, It has to be taken with discipline. You can't stop drinking it after the whole prescripted amount has been taken.

That is the perfect analogy for my friendship with this person. We are good for each other, to comfort each other when we are in pain. But we cannot share the same happiness. When we try to, we will end up ripping it apart, injecting it with such negative thoughts. We have made each other better over our tragedies, but we have also been toxic to each other frequently.

I realized that this is not exactly the friendship I had pictured to have, but it is not entirely bad. It is okay, to have such friends. But I don't think that it is meant to be a kind of friendship where you talk to each other everyday, share all your random thoughts, or send gifts to each other. It is a friendship where you came to talk, and to cry, and to mend all the pains together.

My friends told me to step away; to give up. I had been intoxicated with the thought that this person was my hero, they said. But that was actually true. This person did save me, in his own ways. I do need, at certain times, his different perspectives to truly value something. We both uphold a role as antibiotics to each other; only needed when you had no where else to go.

I just learned that I have to let go of this friend's hand, touching it only for just a high-five in certain occasions. I have to learn not to hug so tight, exchanging the hugs with some pats on the back. I have to quickly realize that maybe, this person will not be there for wishing me on all my birthdays, but this person will surely wish me all the best at my wedding.

Basically, I wrote this to tell you not to ditch a sinking ship just like that. You would have to see the surface, how big the hole is, to finally decide what's best to be done. Think about all the good things you have done with your particular friend, before making a choice you truly deserve. Not all bad people are not worth of being friends with, nor all people can meet your hopes and expectations. And by this, I would have to suggest you not to expect from people so much, or you will end up getting hurt even more.

So my friend, if you're ever reading this, I would have to say that I still value this friendship. I care for you more than you know, yet I really don't know what you expect of me. But do know, that there should be love and respect as well in a friendship, despite all the nasty jokes we shall share. I still am looking forward for more meetings over Starbucks whenever you're home in the coming future, and I hope you are too.

Love,

-Abigail Gee

Reflection

Imagine this.

You are a girl with ambitions and dreams and hopes. You have always imagined yourself standing with pride behind a podium, delivering a speech regarding women empowerment. You have dreamed to be someone people can count on, trust, and believe in. You have wanted yourself to achieve all the good things in life, as a reward of your hard work. You have set plans on where you want to continue studying, working, and eventually reaching all your life goals. You have always been persistent in getting your dreams, making them come true, because you know that your loved ones have faith in you, yet you never truly realized that these people never expected anything from you but to be a kind and loving human being in the future.

You have tried to please your parents and become someone your brother can look up to. You have tried to be this student the teachers will always remember. You have achieved so many things in life. You have become a familiar face to everyone, and yet, you have never felt like you're good enough.

But then you somehow become very ambitious. You slowly become arrogant and bossy, trying to justify all of your actions. You disagree with all decisions others make and instead force them to see from your perspective. You are just one uptight bitch.

Then they start to hate you. They talk about you behind your back, they make fun of you, and they cooperate to bring you down. As you have no idea about it, you just keep thinking that life seems to shower you with all the luck in the world.

But then they show it. They ridicule you in public, they confront you with mocks and they call you names. The whole class hates you, they throw rubbish at you, they make you do everything. You are powerless. You have no friends left to defend you. You do have friends who live far away from you, but they can't be there for you everyday and help you to get through the day. You only find comfort at home and your books, where no one judges you and they forgive.

Then you try to be friends with those who care less about your problems. You start hanging out with them. You take them to your house, showering them with treats and delights. They like having you. Then you let your guard down, and you start forgetting about all your pains. You think you finally found people who can take you for who you are.

But then, when it comes to your special day, they refuse to come because you don't pamper them enough. They think it is such a waste to go to your house to celebrate the happiest day for you because you cannot fulfill that water park visit you've promised them because you suddenly have your period.

Then you think that everything is a lie. You start finding shelter elsewhere, but no one seems to bother trying to be nice to you. You feel completely alone. You sometimes hang out with other people from other classes, but it seems like they have their own gangs as well. You end up skipping classes, doing badly in the class, and cry when no one sees you.

You start hurting yourself, both mentally and physically. Scissors and cutters are your favorite things, and you love seeing yourself bleeding. You'd rather cut your arms and wrists, than to feel the pain you have in the chest. You then spend most of your time to think and decide that you'll just kneel down to every one of them.

You start to believe that if you do something good, it will go back to you. You start to think that people will like you if you please them. So you make the best of yourself and basically offer yourself to them, expecting that they will do the same to you. You look weak, you look hopeless, you look miserably desperate. You get your friends, but then you feel incomplete and unhappy.

And you make friends in the middle of your desperation with some kind acquaintances. They sincerely want to help you, but then you mistake them as not just your saviors, but your best friends. You declare your friendships quickly and you are very excited about having them around for quite some time.

But turns out they don't think the same of you. They find you annoying. They want to be friends with you, for free food or other privileges they may not have if they're not friends with you. You give them everything. Anything they ask, everything you own. You want them to be pleased, and so they will treat you like you're one of them.

And your birthday comes along. You have promised them that you will take them to the best waterpark in town, alongside with the food treats. You will make them so happy and you remind them about presents and gifts you're expecting. But then you see red stains on your pants; you're having your period. You can't go to the waterpark and you promise them good food instead.

Your mom has been cooking since dawn for your friends, hoping that they will celebrate your birthday at your house. You've prepared everything from meals and beverages, to decorations. You still want to make them delighted with your party.

But then you receive mails that they all decided not to come, as you break your promise on taking them to waterpark. All you can do is just stand there and you don't dare to tell your mom about your friends. You end up crying on your own, in your room, sobbing while hoping that your mom will not find out about the tears.

With your swollen eyes then you come to your mom and tell her the bad news. Her face looks sad and all she does is be silent. She says nothing as she does not know what to say to you, how to comfort you, and how to tell you that it is okay when everything isn't.

And soon you choose to move to another city and be happy for a whole year, because everyone is so welcoming. The environment is so diverse that you feel like you belong there, since everyone is accepted.

But then high school comes and you choose to attend a school far away from home, being isolated from the outer world. You get to know three hundred new people introduced to you as your new friends. And they all start to make peer groups, and you're left behind, just like the all days.

Your anxiety comes around again, as if visiting an old friend. It stays there for two years, and you have nothing else to say and to lose. You live in pains you cannot share with your family, or simply no one. You are completely alone.

You win championships, but then people resent you for it. People think that you are not cool, you don't look nice, you are not pretty, you're unworthy of everything. So you start to look for your old friends; scissors and cutters.

Then you suffer from panic attacks, severe ones. You start to doubt yourself and the same pattern of cycle happens again and makes you feel a lot more miserable.

Until a gentle hand offers you a help to get out of the darkness.

And then you get to survive life and high school.

With some dramas, of course. But life seems to be all better.

And college days come and you happily embrace them. You know that things will be alright. You will be fine, as long as you keep the closest ones to the heart. You start to know people and be friends with them. You dare yourself to join organizations and drown yourself in hectic schedule. You make yourself brave enough to be happy and to be carefree for a little while.

And now, you get to see the sky so bright and blue, while whispering your favorite mantra,

"Life is not so bad after all."

Would you finally find genuine happiness within?

-Abigail Gee

Can Love Multiply?

Sometimes I wonder how people define love. Love, for me, is an abstract matter that portrays different meanings for each individual. The way I interpret my feelings, for me, is far away from how I think love is like. Love is something a lot more fundamental than just being attracted and mentally attached to oneself or someone else. I believe love also means being fully responsible for the ideas, implications, and problems that may follow the affection, and completely accepting flaws and mistakes of oneself or someone else.

And you may fall in love with more than one person at the same time.

But when you are emotionally and officially attached to someone, it is the feeling of loving someone else other than your significant other a form of infidelity? I don't think so.

I think there will always be a moment when one is currently with another, can give the same amount of affection to a third person (and/or more) as love is limitless. Love is just, infinite.

I don't know if I believe this, but I think we all are capable of loving more than just one person and love each one of them as equal. I don't think love has limited seats for certain people only; love comes in different forms.

That is the truth; falling in love is inevitable, even when it happens to more than one person.

But what differentiates infidelities with love multiplication is your response. When it comes to a relationship you are committed too, it is no longer about how you maintain the same feeling to that same person or how you brush off the feelings you have for someone else. It is now about how you are going to respond to it, as well as the strength of your commitment. It is about respect for your other half. It is inevitable to love, but it is perfectly preventable for us to cheat on your significant other.

---

I am sorry, this is just a short piece of mind. I'll bring you longer posts next time!

Love,

-Abigail Gee

[Bahasa] Bukan Keistimewaan

Ketika saya bertemu dengan beberapa teman lama di sebuah pusat perbelanjaan, saya terdiam. Mereka dengan gestur anggunnya mulai berkisah tentang liburan masing-masing. Berbeda dengan saya yang datang dari keluarga kelas menengah, mereka lahir di lingkungan yang berkelebihan. Satu baru saja kembali dari tur keliling Eropa, yang lain dari negeri kangguru. Saya hanya duduk dan diam mendengarkan, sementara mereka berdebat mengenai perbedaan harga sebuah tas Chanel di kedua negara. Tak satupun dari mereka yang menggaet saya untuk masuk dalam percakapan. Saya seakan menyatu dengan tembok yang melatar belakangi meja kami. Seharusnya saya tidak seperti itu. Seharusnya, saya sadar bahwa berbicara merupakan hak asasi saya, bukan keistimewaan.

Di hari yang lain, saya mengalami sakit demam yang berkepanjangan. Keadaan itu memaksa saya untuk pergi ke rumah sakit untuk tes darah. Saya pun duduk di sebuah bangku panjang di ruang tunggu, menanti nama saya dipanggil oleh salah satu perawat. Setelah berurusan dengan dokter dan menerima resep obat, saya beranjak menuju kasir untuk menebus obat dan biaya periksa.  Seseorang di depan saya, dengan kartu asuransi yang ternama, dibebaskan dari biaya periksa dan hanya perlu membayar obat. Giliran saya pun tiba. Saya menyerahkan kartu BPJS saya. Tetapi, kasir tersebut dengan tersenyum kecil memberitahu saya 'dengan menyesal' bahwa BPJS tidak diterima di rumah sakit tersebut. Orang yang membayar sebelum saya itupun, yang masih menunggu obatnya datang, memberikan saya pandangan iba. Saya pun menunduk malu dan dengan segera mengeluarkan uang tunai. Saya seharusnya tidak seperti itu. Saya seharusnya sadar, bahwa kesehatan dan perlakuan sopan itu adalah hak asasi saya, bukan keistimewaan.

Di hari yang lain lagi, saya berjalan melewati  sebuah sekolah negeri terkemuka di belahan kota Jakarta. Anak-anak dengan seragam putih merahnya berjalan menyeruak dari gerbang besarnya. Tiba-tiba pandangan saya terpaku pada segerombolan anak ingusan yang mengitari seorang temannya dengan perawakan kecil dan lemah. Mereka memojokkannya dengan wajah penuh keangkuhan. Jagoan kecil, ceritanya. Saya pun dengan rasa penasaran mendekati gerombolan tersebut dan mendengar kata-kata yang terlontar dari mulut salah seorang anak, "Heh. Duitnya mana? Jangan lupa sekalian bunganya, loh!" Saya pun naik pitam dan mulai membentak sekumpulan anak itu, "Kalian ngapain? Kenapa malakin temen sendiri?! Sekarang semua pulang. Bubar!" Mereka dengan ketakutan berlari ke arah yang berbeda, membubarkan geng kecil tersebut. Saya tahu mereka tidak seharusnya seperti itu. Rasa aman itu hak dari anak kecil itu, bukan keistimewaan.

Dari kisah yang saya alami itu pun saya tersadar, bahwa hal-hal kecil yang kita anggap tidak penting; barang sebuah rasa aman maupun rasa dihargai, adalah hak asasi tiap-tiap manusia, bukanlah sebuah keistimewaan. Mereka tidak didapatkan hanya bila kita telah mendapatkan sebuah status sosial tertentu. Terkadang, kita lupa bahwa manusia, memiliki hak-hak dasar yang sama, yang didapatkan sejak keluar dari rahim ibu. Terkadang, kita lupa bahwa terdapat hak asasi orang lain yang harus dipenuhi dan kita hargai. Kita bahkan terkadang lupa bahwa kita sendiri memiliki hak tersebut.

Dan dari kisah anak yang ditindas oleh teman-temannya, saya menemukan satu pelajaran. Apabila saya tidak datang di waktu yang tepat, anak tersebut mungkin akan kehilangan uangnya untuk pulang naik angkutan umum. Sama dengan hak asasi pada umumnya. Apabila kita tidak menyadari adanya hak asasi orang-orang lain yang dilanggar oleh sebuah sistem maupun pihak tertentu, tidak akan ada sebuah gerakan nyata untuk membela mereka yang lemah dan tidak memiliki daya untuk menyuarakan nuraninya. Dan bila kesadaran itu sepenuhnya lenyap dari muka bumi, dimana tiap individu tak lagi mementingkan hak orang lain sedikitpun, maka tidak akan lagi tercipta konsep kemanusiaan.

Sehingga, dapat disimpulkan bahwa terdapat tiga hal yang harus kita sadari. Pertama, sadarilah bahwa hak asasi adalah hal yang harus dan sepantasnya kita terima, bukan keistimewaan. Kedua, sadarilah bahwa hak asasi itu juga dimiliki orang lain, bukan keistimewaan kita sendiri. Ketiga, sadarilah bahwa menyadari bahwa hak asasi bukanlah keistimewaan, adalah alasan mengapa kemanusiaan tetap eksis sampai saat ini.

"I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples." -Mother Teresa

-Abigail Gee

[Bahasa] Berkenalan dengan Pengabdian

Aku duduk di pojok auditorium, memerangi rasa kantuk yang menjadi-jadi. Aku sudah tidak tidur selama dua hari dan semangatku mengikuti kegiatan PSAF sudah menguap bersama tenagaku. Tiba-tiba sebuah panji merah berukuran besar melambai seakan memberi salam kepada segenap mahasiswa baru. Samar-samar kudengar sambutan yang diucapkan oleh senior satu persatu. Lalu microphone digilir kepada seorang perempuan dengan rok merah menyala dan rambut pendeknya yang disisir rapi, dan aku pun mulai menaruh minat pada apa yang disampaikannya. Ia menyerukan salam mahasiswa dengan kencang, dan kata-katanya tersusun begitu indah. Sejak saat itulah, aku mulai jatuh hati pada konsep pengabdian.

Pada tanggal 29 Agustus, aku menerjang keramaian mahasiswa baru yang hendak mendatangi stand Barikara. Aku pun dengan mantap mengisi formulir pendaftaran Barikara. Hingga tiba hari Mekar, aku pun dengan penuh harap berjalan menuju Balai Sidang mengenakan jaket kuningku. Disana aku melihat sosok-sosok yang kemudian aku segani, dan mereka menyambutku—kami—dengan hangat. Aku menikmati setiap presentasi yang diberikan, hingga saatnya kami diminta untuk mendaftar ulang. Setelah selesai mengisi formulir tersebut, seorang abang berkacamata—yang nantinya kukenal sebagai Bang Emir—meminta izin untuk mengambil fotoku. Awalnya aku bingung, namun akhirnya kusadari bahwa Mekar itu sendiri adalah penyisihan awal. Seleksi sudah dimulai.

Suatu siang, kami dikumpulkan di Selasar Auditorium. Kami diberikan pengarahan mengenai tanggal-tanggal penting dan pembagian kelompok. Semua tugas kami selesaikan satu per satu; menulis esai sesuai batas waktu yang diberikan, menyusun proposal diskusi publik, melakukan research dan membahasnya, serta membuat presentasi seapik mungkin. Kami juga menghadiri dua kelas SKIP yang diadakan oleh panitia. Kelas pertama memberikan sebuah introduksi kepada nilai-nilai yang diusung baik Barikara maupun SKIP, serta contoh pergerakan konkrit yang telah dilakukan oleh senior maupun alumni-alumni FHUI sebelumnya. Kami juga diminta untuk menuangkan pemikiran kami dalam sebuah surat, yang berisi harapan kami akan bangsa dan negara ini di masa depan. Sebuah kelas yang begitu edukatif dan semakin menggelorakan keinginan kami untuk turut mengabdi. Sayangnya, aku tidak dapat mengikuti kelas SKIP kedua karena adikku yang baru saja menyelesaikan masa basisnya sehingga aku harus menghadiri upacaranya di Bandung.

Di tengah-tengah perjuangan itu, dua dari kami gugur dan berpamitan. Tapi lima dari kami terus bertahan, menjadi salah satu kelompok yang ‘paling’ lengkap. Hingga akhirnya, kami dengan berdebar menanti pengumuman dari senior akan lolosnya kami ke tahap seleksi selanjutnya. Kami pun lolos ke tahap wawancara terakhir. Rasanya, jujur, seperti dikeroyok. Kami dihujani banyak pertanyaan oleh senior, dan terkadang kami ragu dalam menjawab atau berharap kami bias menjawab dengan lebih baik. Aku pun berbagi pengalaman wawancaraku dengan teman-teman sekelompok. Kami saling menyemangati dan optimis bahwa kami berlima bisa masuk ke tahap terakhir, yaitu live-in.

Pada malam suatu hari Kamis, satu persatu dari kami mendapatkan pesan pribadi dari senior. Aku dengan gundah menanti pesanku, berharap bahwa pesan itu akan memberikan kabar baik. Hingga pukul setengah sepuluh malam, Mbak Githa menyampaikan sebuah kabar gembira yang membuat air mataku merebak. Katanya, besok aku akan ke Ciracas.

Dengan sebuah ransel dan sepasang sandal jepit, aku bergabung dengan teman-teman yang lainnya di kampus pada malam hari Jumat. Kami diantar ke desa binaan itu, yang pernah kukunjungi sekali sebelumnya, dengan menumpang angkutan umum. Dan sesampainya disana, hatiku sesak oleh haru melihat puluhan wajah sumringah yang menyambut kami; wajah mamah-mamah baru kami. Kami diminta untuk menyampaikan salam kami dan dipanggil satu persatu untuk bertemu dengan ibu asuh kami. Saat itulah aku diperkenalkan kepada ibu baruku, Mamah Dewi. Mamah Dewi dengan segera menganggapku seperti anaknya sendiri. Beliau hidup sebatang kara, sehingga beliau sangat senang dengan kehadiranku walau seorang diri karena Yola yang sedang sakit. Aku belajar banyak dari kehidupan Mamah Dewi, iba akan kondisi hidupnya yang tidak seberuntung aku, dan merasa malu karena tidak pernah bersyukur, apalagi melakukan suatu hal yang berarti bagi orang-orang seperti Mamah Dewi.

Pada malam hari kedua, kami dikumpulkan di Matalangi untuk melakukan sebuah pentas kecil-kecilan di hadapan senior. Setelah itu, kami diminta untuk menutup mata dengan jaket kami. Satu per satu dari kami dituntun oleh senior, ke sebuah tempat lapang berumput. Aku merasakan hawa panas di kulitku, segera menyadari bahwa ada api unggun yang cukup besar di hadapanku. Tiba-tiba terdengar seruan Abang Mba, yang menyampaikan pesan-pesan pengabdian yang semakin membesarkan semangatku dalam mengabdi seperti halnya kobaran api di depanku. Rasa pegal dan gatal yang kurasakan di tungkai kakiku semakin lama semakin samar dan sirna bersama dengan keraguanku untuk bergabung dalam pergerakan ini. Tiba-tiba lantunan lagu nasional yang mengiringi pesan-pesan senior menyatu dalam senyapnya malam. Kami diminta untuk mengangkat tangan kanan kami dan meletakkan tangan yang lain diatas dada. Tiba-tiba aku merasakan tangan Mba Veve menyelipkan sesuatu di kedua tanganku. Sebuah surat dan sebuah emblem. Genggamanku semakin kuat, hingga air mataku mengalir deras penuh rasa haru dan syukur

Di hari terakhir, kami mengajar anak-anak Desa Kebun Sayur Ciracas, makan bersama di Matalangi, dan berpamitan dengan keluarga asuh kami. Tangisku meledak karena tidak hanya pengalaman live in, tetapi seluruh rangkaian SKIP ini telah memberikan banyak pengalaman dan kesan yang membekas di hati. Dan tiap kali aku merasa jenuh, aku selalu mengingatkan diriku akan sebuah perjuangan, cerita berkesan, dan tujuan mulia yang ingin aku capai. Itulah kisah bagaimana aku berkenalan dengan pengabdian, dan menjadi satu dengannya.

-Abigail Gee

Looking Back For A While

As I wrote this, I was listening to a song I made with my friends for my batch, Platinum.

It was a hymn dedicated to our graduation. I wrote the lyrics in the middle of the night, with absolutely no idea where the inspiration came from. Alif helped me with the diction, making it sound perfect. Rofif arranged the melody, with some help from me. It took us three days to record it and a week to edit it. We wanted it to sound perfect. Aldo came up with the idea of making a music video, making us the first batch to make a music video.

I wanted to share this with you since I thought it didn't sound that bad. IT was a symbol of all the struggles, tears, and laughter us as the 24th batch had gone through these past three years.

Here, enjoy it!

-Abigail Gee

Goodbyes

I can't believe it's been three years. I have just finished my studies at SMA Taruna Nusantara and I am officially saying goodbye to senior high school life! I admit I had some of the most memorable moments these three years that I would never trade for anything else in the world.

I still remember the times when I said goodbye to seniors who were leaving the campus to pursue their future careers and studies, and I can't believe my passing out was a few months already.

I, thankfully, have been accepted in my dream university and I am very excited in the process of being a college freshman; the perks of looking for a room to rent, the clothes, the new friends, the new subjects, the new books, and everything. I am on my way to live completely and literally on my own.

My friends are, too, reaching out their dreams. Some of them have been accepted in universities, some of them will attend academies, and so on.

Well, I was hoping to still be in touch with them. I mean, I would never forget good things good friends had done for me. They have been my biggest strength to carry on and finish this whole journey. I am truly grateful for being blessed with such amazing companies and also great opportunities to explore myself even more.

Looking back to the past three years, I realized that I have changed at certain points. I learned that all my ups and downs, dramas, and mistakes have shaped me up to the person I am now. I regret some of my actions and decisions and I would love to at least redeem them if not change them, but then again I would not trade any of those times for the world.

By leaving the campus, I left all my trust and legacy to my juniors. I have been blessed with so many kind juniors that I now dearly call my sisters and brothers. They have been supporting me and very respectful although I really don't deserve them as my company. They deserve a better sister and exemplar, yet they stayed till the end with me.

And by leaving the campus, I left my heart as well. I admit that some good and sincere feelings have grown on that land, those I will cherish my whole life as a nice memory inside. I have found great people I then admired and adored by hearts. I also learned that with all my flaws and imperfections, I have still been blessed with people who love me despite who I am.

But then again, by leaving the campus, I have to say goodbye to some of my friends as well. I knew that by leaving TN, that would mean communication being less intense, meet-ups being less frequent, and they would lead to drifting apart. And the bitter part of it is that I am afraid that will happen soon enough. I am talking to my school friends a lot less. But I wish it wouldn't mean we're not friends anymore.

And now, some of my friends are leaving for the academies and I wish them all the best. I really do hope that one day when we all meet again, we all will be successful in our own ways and terms, we will cheer on blessings life has given us and we all will smile together on top!

Thank you for every second worth living these past three years. I love you, Tarnus. I love you even more, PLATINUM!