All the worms in the head

I am extremely restless today.

Not sure if it is because of my foot or my head.

As I type now, I am still nursing a strained arch. It does hurt, but I can still walk. When the pain gets too intense, I limp.

It turned out that my two feet were and are anatomically different, and that difference had resulted in my strained arch. Well, indirectly.

It is a chain reaction.

I remember walking out of the physiotherapist’s room thinking about “Why?” Not that I am a professional dancer or sports player or anything, but because of the disturbances it was creating in my life.

That I can only hobble. That I had to limp. That I can’t do much exercise.

Having said that though, now, I am glad.

Well, at least it wasn’t a broken leg or something. Or a fractured toe bone.

…

My mum was throwing tantrums last night.

I would have imagined that I didn’t cause it—but the fact that she threw the spoon into the sink in my presence and was wracking things in my presence leaves me unconvinced.

And don’t ask me what I did. I didn’t do anything.

The only thing I did was returning home!

I returned home with a heavy heart (if you remember, we hadn’t been talking much since sat when she insisted I am an idiot and I was stupid). Heavy heart because, I really didn’t feel like going home.

But too bad! There was nowhere I could go.

And so, as I whisked to quickly prepare my food (dinner was not ready), I thought about what I said to R.

I had told him that, if it were an exchange—that I trade a prepared dinner with nonsense—then I can take it. There was no reason to move out.

But what if that doesn’t hold anymore?

I found myself toying with the thought again.

My mum didn't even dry the laundry. My dad had to do it.

And I wouldn't do so agitated if my dad were retired. But he isn't.

And while I feel sorry for him (I offered to help him dry the laundry; he was sarcastic to me), there is nothing I can do.

There are many problems I would very much like to solve...but I can't, simply because they are not my businesses.

Never mind if I can analyse the problem. Never mind if I (think I) know where the problem may be.

It is not my business. Or so my parents would like to claim.

For a long time, I hadn't cried. But last night, I did.

I couldn't help not feeling sorry for myself. Shame on me, I know. We should never feel sorry for ourselves. There are always others in a worse plight.

I know that.

But I really cannot help it.

And I cannot help feeling dismayed that my mum is reverting to her nonsense.

And I cannot help feeling disappointed that no matter how much I give in and how hard I try, that the efforts are just fruitless.

And I cannot help thinking that I don't have the power to stop the chain reaction. This whole sequence of events that can be traced from the birth of my parents.

And I cannot help wondering if I can ever get out of this paradigm; if not, when I will succumb to this whole crazy nonsense.

When it will get into my head.

And crash me rotten.

Better things to do..

For a long time, I hadn't attended dance class. And when I finally did--after immense encouragement from my friends and colleagues--I strained my foot.

Rather, more accurately, I sprained my arch.

It is weird that I can sprain my arch just like that. Just after one class. I think it was because the teacher didn't make us wear shoes.

Oh well. Too bad. Too late.

So I had to contend with limping home. It was a good thing R happened to pick me up from class yesterday. Else...alamak.

...

The dance class was surprisingly fun.

It felt different. Maybe because I don't feel so inhibited. Or maybe because I don't even care anymore.

I was talking with my colleague (my favourite colleague: Let's call her P) and she told me I should care less about perfection.

Like that time I played the violin for the archbishop, I should look at all these as a gift, and not as a venue for perfection.

I think she is right. These are all gifts that I should be thankful for. The gift of curiosity. The gift of enthusiasm.

...

My mum has not been talking to me for three days. I think it is three days; I don't know.

It started off from Sat, when she asked me to buy some vegetables and I had returned with something she wasn't quite expecting.

She had scolded me stupid, idiotic, moronic...well, the usual.

I had ignored her--I really cannot be bothered with her nonsense.

As much as she thinks I am stupid, I think she is just plain plain lazy.

Lazy and moronic.

So whatever she calls me, I just bat my eyelids and move on.

That night, interestingly, R asked me if my mum had changed.

How would she change???? I don't know.

She still always like to label people as selfish...when actually she is the one all of us have to give in too, for whatever we do...just to accomodate her.

She still thinks of others as being extremely inconsiderate, when she is the one that switches on the light and radio when people are still asleep.

She labels others as stupid...when she is obviously lazy.

She hadn't changed one bit, and I think it doesn't matter, because I know my ways of 'dealing' with her has changed at least.

R asked if I still wanted to live alone.

I said of course!!!

But it is because I can rationalize things out now that I don't feel so trapped and hence frustrated.

I think of it as...in exchange for all this humiliation and vengeful exchanges, I get a meal.

If I had stayed alone, I would probably be eating at 8pm.

So yeah, fair deal.

And since I am staying here still, I can be the cleaner of the house.

Saves me a sum of money when I get them a maid instead.

So yeah, fair deal.

...

So well, she can go on giving me the cold shoulder. I hadn't done anything wrong. She was the lazy one.

And if she wants to insist I am stupid and whatever and whatever, be my guest.

I have better things to do.

(They say that) I am not focused

As I was reading the entries in my previous blog, I realize I kind of like those entries more.

I think there were more words of wisdom written in there. But of course, because they started on a dark note. It is like starting from the valley. There is a considerable distance towards the top. If one starts from the top, then naturally, there is no more distance.

...

I think my life has been very ordinary, and almost becoming typical.

Not that it is a bad thing. Not at all, in fact.

I mean, it is better to be at ease and in peace with predictable happenings of the day than to be plagued into undesirable circumstances that catch one unawares.

But amidst that ordinariness, I think I am just degrading.

Into laziness and procrastination personified.

...

I didn't get the scholarship.

I didn't even get through to the interview stage! That shows how low my standard is.

And while I'd expected it, I am still feeling disappointed and sad.

I still wonder, what would have happened had I not walked away from Science?

What would have happened had I, when my boss then gave me the offer to work in the Japanese lab, stayed?

I mean, no one will know. No one can know.

Sometimes, I also end up wondering, what would have happened had I learnt ballet instead of piano?

How different would I be? How different would I have become?

No one will know. No one can know.

And so all I have with me is that disappointment.

I can try to console myself with many things: like how I am not that keen on Science actually; I just figured I was more passionate about the brain than I am for any other thing.

Like how PhD will take another three to four years and I would be in my thirties then, realizing that I haven't really led a life.

Like how much harder my parents will need to work in spite of their frail body and bitter bones, should I really get through.

I can say many things--but those, don't take away the feelings of 'lousiness' I feel inside.

R said I am not lousy. I am just not focused.

Am I not focused? I had thought it was the contrary.

R said, had I been more focused, I would have learnt whatever I needed to learn. I would have learnt more about the technique. I would have acquired sufficient skills to gain employment.

R said, had I been more focused, I would have achieved more things.

...and I don't know what to think of it.

Can I ever be focused? I have thought that I am focused.

I don't know...

For now, I only know that I have been struggling with that feeling of the lack of accomplishment since...last week.

I want to see it in a positive light. I want to see it as God not giving me the route because it is something that I wasn't meant to do.

Fine.

Then can someone pls tell me what I am meant to do?