I’ve just returned home from a wonderful dinner with a bunch of my ex-classmates from my polytechnic days. We had dinner at Tony Roma’s, which by the way, serves up amazingly delicious food in really gigantic portions. We caught up with each other over dinner. Talked about school, work, friends, relationships, and quite nearly everything under the sun.
In all that laughter, I wasn’t really happy. One thing great and also not so great about me is my ability to hide emotions. Yep, I have mastered the art of hiding every bit of what I’m feeling, hence all the smiles and laughter evident during this evening’s get-together.
I wouldn’t exactly say I’ve mastered it; it’s more of an innate thing for me. I’ve been concealing unhappiness and depressing thoughts since I was 3 or 4, which happens to be the age most normal people start being aware of what really goes on in their hearts and in their heads.
I’ve been harbouring dampening and downright oppressing monsters in my head lately. From personal life experiences, I can almost pinpoint the roots of my incessant fluctuating insecurities.
I don’t want history to repeat itself, yet something deep within me is so certain it will. It happened between my mum and dad, what are the possibilities of them reoccurring between me and the one I love? High.
I may have been at a very tender age when I witnessed all that was going on in my family. But it doesn’t mean I never understood what was going on nor absorbed bits of information here and there. In fact, I did. And it wasn’t just bits – it was everything.
As a big girl now, I find it hard to put aside all those memories and just live like they never once mattered. I have an extremely low self-esteem, which is an absolute turn-off for my boyfriend, as he has mentioned. I also have the most out-of-this-world fear that if I don’t look ‘perfect’ (and I know I don’t), my boyfriend’s going to leave me. At the snap of the fingers and he’ll be gone to someone way better than me in every other way.
Now, what’s wrong with that scenario? Everything. Reality, as hard as it is for me to accept, is that there is bound to be a better and a best to practically every single object, person, living or non-living thing. Ouch! The truth does hurt.
So what does that mean for me? A life filled with constant fear, worry and insecurity – that’s what it is.
And that’s just what I’ve been drowned in for the past week. Not only the pressure from school and my freelancing, but also the sense that I may be losing that special something that was once attractive.
This is right where the memories of my parents’ marriage comes in. If you’re no longer attractive, you’re no longer wanted. Says a hell lot about why I pay so much attention to how I look, doesn’t it? Sadly for me, I feel like I’ve reached the stage of having lost it all.
Whenever I get snapped at or even a slight cold shoulder from him, it’ll all boil back down to that. Where do I draw the line between disillusionment and reality when all that I perceive, whether real or not, have always been reality to me?