dmtrtyping

[dmtrtyping]

Saturday, April 15th 2023

It has been a while indeed. Here I am, sitting at the lobby of this apartment that has been home for me for the past three weeks. And yet, it felt nowhere near home. I haven’t been home for almost a month, away from Bali and its blue sky, its sunny days, its laid back and slow pace of life. Twenty one days of not being in the comfort of my own room, not seeing my family, my dog, my friends, and Benny. 

I supposed I was wrong. I expected this to be an easy process. Adapting to living in a big city like Surabaya. I used to be here all the time, back when I was younger and have less knowledge on the world and its inhabitants. Back when I knew nothing about emotions and heartbreaks. Those good old happy days. 

I want to love living here so badly. If I were to continue my studies here one day, just like papa, I should love this place, the way I love Bali. But I just couldn’t. Oh wait, there are tears blocking my view. I am trying to hold in my tears cause as I said, I am writing this at the apartment lobby, and I don’t want people to look at me weirdly. Well, there aren’t really a lot of people here, just me, and this security lady who is waiting for her shift to end. 

So much has happened. And I am not just talking about everything that has happened since I lived in this city. I mean a lot has happened since I last wrote here. I haven’t figured out why though. Was I too busy ? Was it because I couldn’t find the words to best show what is happening ? Was I too preoccupied with trying to survive my last few months of clerkship ? I am not quite sure. 

Looking back, I could see the highest and lowest points of my life in the past twelve months. And if I thought that 2022 hasn’t been kind to me. Boy was I wrong. 2023 hasn’t been treating me better either. Although, I couldn’t look over the fact that I have seen some of the best days of my life. Days of laughter, of happiness, of joy. I have seen how my views on happiness change, how I handle it, how I preserve it, and where to find it. Or better yet, to not seek it at all. 

Because if there is one thing that I have learned in the past year, it is to never seek happiness. Be kind, to ourselves, to those around us. Have faith in life. And happiness shall find you, at the right time, and the right place. 

I wish my brain could slap itself right now. What was I thinking. Being the hypocrite I am. Of course I would type out wisdom while having no mercy for myself. 

Truly, my heart feels heavy. It feels so heavy on my chest that I am scared it will fall through my diaphragm and fall inside my abdominal cavity, lost in between my intestines and their movements. 

My confidence is nowhere to be found. So is my smile, the genuine and light hearted one. I think the light in my eyes has become dull. I could feel my shoulders slumping, more than ever. Tears at the back of my eye, threatening to fall at any moment. Lips dry. Fingers aching to create a mark on my skin, anything to remind me that I am in control of the pain that I am feeling. Anything to forget whatever it is that I am thinking. 

I kept making the same mistakes. Promising to never let myself fall back into the same destructive habit. To heal. To throw away these thoughts of self-sabotage. To never look at those metal sharp edges as if they could solve all of my problems. I was clean, for years in fact. Before this clerkship and the demons inside my head got the best of me. 

I promised that it will be the last time. But not even a year later, this wall I’ve built to lock my demons away crumble down. I thought I’ve built that wall stronger that the previous one. But I forgot to make it flood-proof. And so a huge flood hits and broke it with ease. Washing away every bit of effort I’ve put out. I fell deeper that before. So deep down this well of despair that no oxygen could reach me. My lungs wouldn’t let me breathe. I was so close to giving up. But then, I heard voices, voices of children who never asked to be born in such a cruel world. Who never asked for those who brought them into this world to disappoint them so much. To let them down. I need to save them. But then I realized this meant I have to save myself first.

So I fought my way back, and instead of locking up my demons, this time I buried it. Hoping I won’t have to see them ever again. Wishing I never have to hear their voices again. 

Again, I was wrong. Of course burying these demons wouldn’t be enough. They managed to get to me, several times. Almost getting a hold on my sanity. I could hear their whispers, their taunts, their words of lies. Haunting me in my wake, even more in my sleep. There were times where I felt trapped in my own body, stuck with my own thoughts that I so desperately want to escape. 

This battle against my demons has be going on for such a long time. It would be a lie if I said that it doesn’t tire me out. I am exhausted. I don’t want to fight anymore. I thought that a good life is worth fighting for. But can’t I just live a good life without having to fight for it ?

In the midst of this on-going battle. I am glad I could find comfort in genuinely good souls. Who would lend me their ears. Whose shoulder would catch my tears. Who would show me that I am never truly alone. Bless these kind-hearted souls. I will forever be thankful for their existence. 

Goodness, the tears are about to fall again. I couldn’t help myself. It is hard to point out what exact emotion am I feeling right now. But it sure does involves lots of tears, and occasionally a smile of defeat. Have you ever laughed at something that you find funny, but all of the sudden you find yourself crying for no reason at all ? Or have you cried so much, to the point that you could feel the strings of your heart breaking apart from sadness and hopelessness, but then you let out a laugh ? Because how does life feel like a joke at times ?

Life is a bitch. Time is an asshole. Fate is not always on our side. And Luck just sometimes doesn’t work. I learned it the hard way. Learned how naive I was to put so much hope in life. I was stupid to believe that putting my trust in life and fate, would guarantee me a good one. At times, we have to create our own fate. We choose to create our own luck. To take back the control that life has on our time, or the control that time has on our life.

There is one more thing that I desperately need to work on. To convince myself, my consciousness, my mind, and my heart. That I am never responsible to the emotions of those around me. That it was never my job to pick up the pieces or their broken moods and emotions. Then arrange it back for them. I grew up as a people-pleaser. I believed that I am responsible of the happiness of those around me. That they should feel pleased to see me. I have always believed that if the mistake I made ruined their day, then that is entirely my fault. I learned that I should have a pair of strong shoulders to carry the wait of other people’s emotions. This mindset has let people walk all over me like I am nothing. 

This will take some time. But I really need to work on it. Because one day, it might cost me my own life. My own sanity. My own happiness. Myself. 

In the meantime, I am counting down the days until I can come back home. A month here is enough, I think. It is enough to satisfy my curiosity on the big city life. I have seen enough skyscrapers, and trains, and people, and the buzz of a busy town. I have met enough new people for now. 

I just need to be home. 

Please.

dmtr.

[dmtrtyping]

Years went by, I thought I would never find another reason to do it. I have been clean, for years. I achieved many milestones during those years. I graduated both high school and college. I dated someone, the broke up with him. I went through a pandemic. All clean, no more scars to hide. No more pain to endure. Until now. 

I have fallen, again. Now deeper than ever. The lowest point I have ever been all my life. I lost myself so much that I was ready to lose my life. I was ready to throw everything away. To give away the life that others dreamed of. To waste this body that I was blessed with. 

This body, it doesn’t deserve this mind and soul of mine. All I ever did was hurt it, inflict pain on it. With rage, with desperation, with bottled up emotions, I carved red lines on my skin. For a moment there, I feel in control of what is happening to me. For a moment there, I let my demons take over. They wanted blood, so I give them blood. They wanted pain, so I give in to the pain. They wanted to see my light die, to watch as my hopes burn into ashes. 

I was not alive, nor was I dead. I simply existed. Meaningless breath. Dull eyes. Heavy steps. Thoughts covered in a haze of uncertainty. I wasn’t hungry. I could not bring myself to sleep. I only wished to sit in the corner of a dark room where everyone would forget about me and move on with their lives. I was walking barefoot, balancing myself on a single thread stretched between two cliffs overlooking a dark abyss. One push and I would have fallen over, ceasing to exist as a person, and only remain as a memory. 

Life does not feel real. While I was moving in slow motion, the world moves on, and time keeps ticking. I look around me, and feel as though I exist in a different moment. Where everyone seemed to be breathing just fine, while I could barely fill my lungs with air. 

I had to shed my tears in silence. In darkness. I had to scream into my hands. My hands, clamped over my mouth, so nothing escapes it. There’s a permanent path down my cheeks, where streams of tears choose to roll down. I found a safe space in the car. Parked on the side of an empty road where no one passes. That was the first time I had heard myself cry out loud. Never would have I thought that I would hear myself sob, cry, scream, and breakdown into unsalvageable pieces. I had finally known how agony sounds. I was used to do it in silence, in fear that someone would see that I am no strong human. That I too, cry, and have breakdowns. Because for my ego, crying means weakness, and weakness is a sin. 

My headspace is filled with fear, with anxiety. I lost the grip I had on reality. I can no longer differentiate my own thoughts and the reality that goes around me. My ears no longer hears the birds outside, how the door creaks open, the gush of wind, the distant noises of traffic. I can only hear the buzz of my thoughts, and the beats of my own heart. 

[dmtrtyping]

“You know, maybe this isn’t for me”, said the person who spent the past four years on a degree in medicine. I find myself saying that line quite a lot lately.

I can’t seem to recognize this version of myself. Where was the overly productive human with handwritten notes and stayed up ‘till three am to study. Willingly, may I add.  And then proceeded to wake up at seven to attend classes. Where did that girl go ? Did she die from exhaustion ? 

I kept on pushing back assignments. I haven’t been giving my best in exams and assignments. I am not the me that I know. The me that I am proud of. I was supposed to be the diligent one, the smart kid, the one who excels in everything. Where is she ? Where is that person when I needed her the most ? Has she grown tired of the world ?

I wish I could say I am ashamed of myself. But that would be an understatement. I despise myself for being in this state. I couldn’t bring myself to gather whatever energy I have left. I wish I know why. I wish I know why it is so hard to fall into the routine that I used to know, that I used to follow with ease. Why couldn’t I learn something new ? Why can’t I remember things ? Why can’t my brain do their job properly ? It’s just not- Nothing makes sense. Nothing. 

I am falling behind. I see others and I wonder how did they do it so easily. How can it make senses to them ? It gets frustrating. This is frustrating. I never struggled academically. Until now. Until I am thrown into this world where I can’t seem to keep up. 

I don’t think I will be a good doctor. I am far from it. Being a doctor seemed like an impossible thing at this rate. Goodness, I could not wrap my head around the fact that I am struggling to adapt, to learn, to meet expectations. 

I stopped being the one with all the answers, stopped asking questions that were results of critical thoughts, stopped wanting to know more, stopped cruising articles upon articles until my curiosity is quenched. I stopped being the smartest person in the room. I couldn’t lift my head with confidence because they are nowhere to be found, my confidence. I guess I lost them somewhere during the past couple of months. 

Clinical placements really is an awakening and a humbling experience for me. One that I really need to keep my head from floating way up between the clouds and the stars. I needed this, I said to myself, to keep my feet on the ground. 

Perhaps this is normal, and I just have to get through this. Everyone struggles every once in a while. I can’t always be at the top, right ? 

Right ?

[dmtrtyping]

I am writing from a whole new year. It is insane to think that I have not been able to write since a new chapter of my life started right after graduation. Right, graduation. I have also come back with a degree, a degree in medicine. That is just one of the things that had changed since the last time I went here and poured whatever it is I couldn’t say out loud. 

The end of the first month of 2022 is nearing. Time seemed very abstract lately. The days just went by with nothing worth remembering or holding on. As I try to not dread the next waking moment, as I try to push myself and convince my heart that life is still worth living after all. I have just been existing. That’s all. 

Although I do have to admit that I have had my fair share of laughs and happy moments. I guess they are worth remembering even though they eventually get buried under the chaos that is unfolding. 

This is the fourth time I have sighed since I started writing this. 

I believe it is evident that I am writing this with uneasiness in my heart and a slumped shoulders. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to smile for. I have always done that. I only came here when I have a hard time processing and accepting the reality that I am living in. Not sure if that is a bad thing or not. But I tend to lose myself in the clouds whenever I am happy and full of joy. When the heart feels comfortable and content.

Many things have taken place. Things I should’ve written about a couple months ago, milestones I should have noted down. I passed my first rotation. I started my second one, Ob-Gyn. I lived on my own for the first time in my life. I have attended three different hospitals in the past two months for my studies. I have met some of the nicest people. I have witnessed countless mothers welcoming their babies, some losing theirs. I have helped a mother deliver her baby a couple of times, let them squeeze my arm when the pain gets unbearable. I have seen fathers cry at the birth of their children. I have seen the types of doctor I hope I won’t become one day. I have cried myself to sleep believing that I will never become an excellent doctor. I have lost my faith, and had others lift me up. Somehow, I have not only gotten older, but a tiny bit more mature since  last time. I have grown to enjoy the wait, to have patience, to let go what is not meant for me. I have lived, I guess. 

There is one week left for me in Ob-Gyn. I only have my final exams left and then it’s on to the next rotation for me. There are definitely mixed feelings in the air. I am unsure on how to feel. Relieved that it’s coming to an end and I can move on to the next one ? Anxious that I am starting a new one which means I have to start from scratch ? I have no idea. 

One thing that I am sure of, that I have learnt from the past couple of months, is that I have to live through it first to judge. I have to create comfort zones in every place I go. That way, I won’t become a bird stuck it its cage forever, thinking the cage is the whole world.

I will come back when these fingers have the urge to write, and the neurons in my brains could fathom organized sentences. Bye!

[dmtrtyping]

Here I am again. I have finally mustered up the courage to write again. My sincerest apologies, for my brain has been focusing on more academic things these past few months. I couldn’t remember when was the last time I had the urge to write. But I do remember I wasn’t feeling my best. As a matter of fact, I was at one of my lowest points. But here I am again, on the opposite of the spectrum. I don’t think I’m currently at my low point, I have been feeling rather happy and content with my life.

Where should I start ? This is hard since I haven’t written for such a long time. It truly feels like catching up with an old friend, having so many things to share but not knowing where to start. Again, I do apologize if certain sentences don’t make any sense, I am writing this while music blasted through my earphones and my brain is trying its best to focus on so many things.

Let’s start with how my last semester of pre-clinical studies went. It was great. I did receive most of my grades already and they looked good. The learning part was nice. It made me feel like I’m actually learning things I could apply in life. I also got to learn new ways of thinking, problem solving, and some life-saving tips. Although, it would have been more fun if we get to study in the newly updated classrooms on campus. Well, that was that. I’m glad it went by nicely.

Now, my research. I remember writing about how much it affected the health of my body and mind. It did thought, it did affect me so much because I was worried all the time if I’m going to be able to pull it off or not. But guess what ? I made it. The research paper was done on time, I did my seminar on it and passed. And now that exact research is about to get published. My very first article, with my name on it, will available online for everyone to read. This feels like a dream. I hope it’s not a dream though, I really hope this is the reality that I get to live in. I have been so happy ever since. This research is something that I fought for. I would be really disappointed in myself if I couldn’t pull this off. But I finally did it, with the help of so many people. I hope they get blessed more and more each day for playing a part and giving me so much help. I could go on for days about this research, but I figured it would not be wise to so. I am just very thankful that I did it, despite all my anxieties. I guess all those tears and sleepless nights are worth it.

It feels like the finish line is near. But then I realized that it is in fact not the finish line. More like a check point. Since I still have one more exam next Monday. And then graduation comes up. And then my clinical rotation studies would start, two years of it. The finish line is definitely not near. 

Sometimes I ask myself, why am I doing all of this ? Why did I immerse myself into a lifetime of studying ? Why did I give away my youth for this ? Will it be worth it ? Will it really make my life more meaningful ? 

Why am I doing all of this ?

Well. That’s a very good question that never fails to leave me deep in my thoughts every single time.

I always say I’m doing this since I have nowhere to go. I have no talent nor hope on sports or arts. I have no interest and passion in law, business, accounting, engineering, or anything for that matter. I just have small bite-sized interests and passion in perhaps a million things. Like writing for example. But I’m nowhere near the word talented in it. Same thing with painting, photography, or even arts and crafts. I’m only good at acting diligent I suppose. I’m good at looking smart. Acting smart is my thing. I could convince people that I am smart. Although I don’t believe the word smart is a good fit for someone whose thoughts gets jumbled on a daily basis. 

Then I would say that I am doing this for the sake of preserving family tradition. Having both the first and second pediatric surgeon in the region as my grandfather and father does present some challenges. Being the first child in the family does not help either. Having the tendency of wanting to please others and meet their expectations is like putting salt of wounds, it only makes it worse. Would I say that I feel pressured ? Yes. Would I admit that I am currently enjoying what I choose ? Yes. So, I guess I am somewhat lucky that what was once a pressure, is now a passion of mine. Or is it ?

The thing is, a very long journey lies ahead of me. A very long and uncertain journey that will surely be filled with more challenges and obstacles, that will without a doubt test my perseverance and will. 

Lately, I have been focusing more in the now, rather than in the ifs and whatever it is the future holds for me. It has been very calming. I get to stray away from my anxieties for a while. I hope I get to be in peace with my thoughts for a long time. The peace is beginning to feel comfortable. 

Oh-

How can I forget the most important thing ever.

I turned 21.

Like legal age 21.

I could legally purchase alcohol now. Although that’s not the whole point of it. There’s a lot of things that comes with turning 21. Like the quarter-life crisis waiting in the corner. Or the fact that I should start acting like an actual adult. Or the fact that my mother was the exact same age as I am, when she gave birth to me twenty one years ago. Which is insane. She is one strong woman for giving birth at my age. I could only shudder at the thought of raising a child right now. She is truly a warrior. 

The thing is, I don’t feel like I am 21 ?? I feel like I am still in my teens, just with a different view of life and a heck load of lessons learned. This is indeed very confusing. Having to constantly remind myself to think and act like my age. Yikes, why did I have to wish that I grew up faster back when I was a kid ? There’s nothing nice about growing up and getting older. Only more stress and responsibilities and the cruel world that is reality.

Also. 

It’s August already.

It’s the flipping 8th month of 2021 already.

Nothing makes sense. 

Not time.

Not the world.

Not reality.

Perhaps I should just fall asleep right now and exist in my dreams. Where time stands still and there’s nothing to worry about. 

Actually that’s a very terrible attempt in ending this very weird and seemingly rushed writing. I promise I will get to my senses and write actual readable things soon. (sorry in advance if I end up making promises I can’t keep)

Hopefully the writing and literature Gods and Goddesses would bless me with the ability to write readable sentences that actually makes sense. Until then, this is the last update of what’s currently going on.

Also this is a ridiculous procrastinating act so I don’t have to study for my exam that is coming up in a week.

Ciao. Au revoir. Bye.

[dmtrtyping]

conversations i wish i could’ve had.

things i wish i could’ve said.

courage i wish i had.

[dmtrtyping]

we are living inside a battleground, made to look like friendly match.

every soul fighting to survive, while greeting each other as friends.

behind that promise to trust each other, lies betrayals and secrets.

what a hypocritical world.

what a harsh reality indeed.

[dmtrtyping]

it has been a while indeed. i can’t believe i did not come here for the whole first month of 2021. it is reasonable however, since january has been a fairly packed month. i finished my last module for the semester, went through osce a couple days ago, and started my research already. 

throughout the past month, there were times where i really wanted to write, to let out everything through words and sentences. but i couldn’t bring myself to do so. i always thought, it doesn’t matter, there are more important things to do, my words can wait. 

i had many thoughts, a result of contemplations, some had deep meanings. but i couldn’t bring myself to write them down, and i lost them somewhere in my memory. 

even now, i felt as if i have lost my sense of vocabulary. the sentences i write just doesn’t seem appealing, it feels dull. dull like how i have been feeling.  

perhaps it’s the fear, looming at the back of my head. the anxiety eating away any hope i currently have left. my chest feels heavy, and yet i’m not gasping for air. my head feels full, and yet i am not thinking about anything. 

osce had passed, and i thought the uneasiness i felt would go away, but it doesn’t. one fear simply replaces the other one, as my thoughts moves from one fear to another, and so the cycle goes. 

but it is me who is at fault here. i brought this to myself. i could’ve just not care, but of course i choose to care. and caring makes me scared, scared of uncertainty. i am scared if anything goes wrong, if things would not go as i had hoped for. 

this research. it’s eating me alive these days. i could barely sleep. i feel guilty when i’m not worrying about it. i am scared that i couldn’t finish it. i am scared i couldn’t find enough cases. i met so much people, talked to them, spent hours at the hospital where i could possibly get the virus. i spent so much of my savings on this. i had to ask others to drive me to the hospital and it’s so far away, i am becoming a burden. i am scared that all of this effort is going to waste if the result isn’t what i expected it to be. 

why did i have to be so hard headed ? why did i aim for the stars ? why did i overestimate myself ? it’s only day two of my research, there’s weeks to go and possibly six more hospitals to attend. it’s so much work, but i made a promise to myself that i am going to finish it no matter what. it’s only two days and i feel like quitting.

dad is going to say i’m putting way too much effort on this. he is going to be mad. because according to him, i could’ve just done it the easy way. i am scared that he’s going to be mad and disappointed at me. 

oh there it goes, the pent up emotions are finally out. the weeks worth of tears are flowing down like floods after a heavy rain. 

everything that i am doing, i am doing it to make them proud of me. but what if it becomes the reason they’re disappointed of me ?

i am a fraud. i am not as smart as they think i am. i am not as talented. i am not whoever they think i am. 

i feel drained. i met with so many people. every single one of them has been nice, and helpful, and i couldn’t be more thankful for their kindness. but i feel empty, i lost all the energy i had in me. i met with way too many people, way more than i can handle. 

i kept telling myself to hold on, just for a bit longer. i have to be stronger, and comfort isn’t going to make me stronger. i have to keep pushing my boundaries, no matter how small the progress is, i have to keep doing it. persistence is key, and i will be working on it. i will not break under this pressure. i must not. i have to endure it because there will harder ones coming, and i am not going to break under those as well. i am going to see the bright side of things, and i am always going to remind myself how blessed i am. and if people with less can aim for so much higher, then what is my excuse ?

[dmtrtyping]

here i am again. tomorrow is officially the last day of 2020. this grueling year is finally coming to an end. does it mean that we’ll start the new year with a fresh start ? i hope so. although i have to be completely honest, it hasn’t really settled in me yet that 2021 basically starts this friday. 

i’m somewhat floating in this space where time and reality does not exist. some part of me believes that it’s because i am overwhelmed with the year coming to an end and yet there are so many things i haven’t done or finished. it’s also probably because of the amount of school work i have these days and the fact that i have literal classes on a saturday, on the 2nd of january ??? baffling i know. 

but well, this is the literal implication of life goes on. there are classes i have to attend, assignments to submit, the pandemic is showing no signs of stopping anytime soon, and people are still careless and stupid enough to hangout without masks, you know, the usual thing. nothing out of the ordinary for this new year moment.

now before i get in too deep into my rants about how much thing i have to do while i’m here basically finding excuses to procrastinate and avoid doing the actual work that i needed to do- what was it that i wanted to talk about ?

ah, yes.

something about the past 12 months and my wishes for the upcoming ones. 

2020 has been tough. we all know that, we all felt it. we had so many losses, from friends, to families, to loved ones. some might even lose their jobs from the worsening economics. some their houses, their belongings, and some probably lost their passion or positivity.  

i’m not going to sugarcoat things and say that at least there are things that we could be thankful for. because for some, there’s just nothing to be thankful or grateful for. and it’s okay to feel that way. it’s okay to feel sadness, anger and to give up on certain things that you need to let go. 

we know that every decision comes with consequences, every action comes with an aftermath. if you want to keep dwelling in what you loss, knowing what it’s going to do to you in the future, go on, it is your life. but if you want to make a change, if you want to rise up and you might need some help, don’t hesitate to ask the people you trust. 

life is about making choices. it doesn’t necessarily have to be right, because even the wrong choices are great for a learning process. make a choice, and face the consequences. know that it is not failure until you give up, otherwise it’s just a learning process. 

so with those battle scars from 2020, the ones that tore you down, and broke you apart, the ones that made you a stronger person, start your 2021 with confidence and passion. the year might broke you, but you pulled yourself out of it, and you are now stronger and better than that person you were at the beginning of 2020. 

the year truly gave me a lot of things to think about when the nights couldn’t lull me to sleep. things i’ve achieved, goals i’ve yet to achieve, things i’ve lost, memories worth holding onto, and lessons i’ve learned. from the rivers staining my pillow, to the series of laughter hurting my facial muscles. from the infinite happiness found in simple things, to the process of becoming a better human being. 

of course as a human being, i too make mistakes. i hoped i had apologized and fixed all of them, so i won’t have to take this year’s mistakes into the new year. to everyone i had offended, to anyone i had hurt, please accept my apology for hurting or offending you. i will make sure to learn my lessons and not make the same mistakes twice. 

and a short message to myself before stepping into the new year, please be strong. the year has a lot in store for you. so many significant events will take place. so many challenges awaits to be conquered. so much room for you to grow wiser. please believe in yourself, be strong, and never back down because each day you are one step closer towards your dreams. every small step is a progress, never be discouraged. you can do this, six year old you is proud that you’ve hold on so far. 

still, i would like to express my gratitude that i still get to be healthy, that my family is doing well, that they are safe and healthy. and even if we’re currently seeing our worst days, we are lucky for still getting by. i couldn’t really ask for anything else in regards to the current situation we’re in.

and of course to all the healthcare workers and everyone who has dedicated their time and effort, saving lives during the pandemic. to all the fallen angels, sacrificing not only their time but also their lives for the safety and well-being of others. you are a hero, the greatest one the world has ever seen, and we would never be able to thank you enough for what you've done.

dear 2020 whom we have a love-hate relationship with, 

thank you for the lessons and memories, i hate you for being such a mean year to us all, please become a history that will never repeats itself ever again.

dear 2021 whom we are hopeful for and yet scared of,

please treat us well, because we all desperately need a break from the year-long joke that is the year 2020. although if you turn out like how 2020 did, we would definitely be disappointed but not surprised. like i said, we are hopeful, but at the same time we are tired of hoping because we don’t know what to expect anymore.

sincerely, 

someone who has a shit ton of things to do, but decided that for sentimentality sake, writing this is a priority. 

dmtr.

[dmtrtyping]

as i grew up, i learned that the world isn’t made up of white and black.

it’s made up of various shades of greys.

some a little lighter, some a little darker than others.

some had more good in them, some had more bad.

everyone and everything is both good and bad.

[dmtrtyping]

it’s supposed to be december in three days. really this year seemed like the longest year, but also the shortest one. everything just comes and go. and unknowingly, it’s the end of the year already. 

i had a horrible day. i don’t know but i just felt bad, and tired, and stupid, and unlucky. i just- it’s horrible.

my laptop keeps glitching, my hands kept slipping while trying to type. i’m neither sleepy nor awake. i’m just floating i guess. i hate it. even now i don’t know why i kept typing when i just feel dead inside. i wanna sleep and not wake up. but i also have a stack of things to do. 

it’s like i couldn’t breathe. i think i just need to sleep. this is probably the effects of sleep deprivation hitting me. i’ll end this very quick and horrible attempt in writing for now. i desperately need my sanity back. and perhaps my motoric control as well. that’d be nice.

[dmtrtyping]

yesterday, mom showed me so many old pictures of our family. the pics from when i was a child, dad’s pics when he’s still young and much thinner that he is now, grandpa’s pics when he’s still here. then i thought. if only both of my grandpas, and my paternal grandma are still here right now, will they be proud of me ?. 

i lost my maternal grandpa first, i was in middle school. he passed away after a long battle with diabetes, parkinson’s disease and other complications. he passed away just a few days before i have to leave for a student exchange in singapore. i was young back then, so the pain was manageable. but seeing the pain my mother felt, it hurts. i cried the day i had to miss his funeral because i wasn’t at home.

and then i went home from my student exchange. i landed at midnight, and went straight to the hospital to visit my paternal grandma who’s been at the icu for weeks. yes, both my paternal grandmother and maternal grandfather were admitted to the hospital at almost the same time. it was a tough time for our family.

not even two days after i last visited her, she passed away too. and that was probably less than two weeks after my maternal grandpa passed away. this time, seeing dad’s tears hurts so much. dad was never the type to cry easily. he always has this strong facade on. but when it comes to the mother he loved so dearly, the mother who pushed him to pursue the career that he has right now, he discarded that strong facade for once.

a couple years later, i lost a great aunt. she is grandpa’s sister, and she’s not married so she lives with us. i spend a lot of time with her especially during holidays and traditional ceremonies. she taught me a lot about making certain offerings to the gods, and to our ancestors, she’s used to be the one to organize my balinese birthdays. 

the day she passed away will forever be in my head. i was at the hospital by myself. because i was supposed to pray at the hospital’s temple, and then pay her my usual evening visit. but then i got a call from dad when i was at the parking lot. he told me that he’s in the middle of a surgery, and he got a call that her condition is declining. i remember just not caring if i looked crazy as i ran from the parking lot at the front all the way to the intensive care unit at the back. 

i was too late. when i arrived there, the nurse told me that she had passed away just now. i couldn’t talk to her one last time. if only i had ran a bit faster, maybe i could be there so she wouldn’t have to be alone when she passed away. but maybe it was for my sake, for it could have hurt me way more than it did. 

i’ve always had a dream that i wanted my grandparents to see me graduate college, or high school at least. i really want them to be proud of me. 

when my paternal grandpa is still around, i had hoped that he’d live long enough to see his granddaughter become a doctor, just like his son did. he’s always at home, and he’s so healthy at the time that i was confident he’s be around for a long time.

but then 2019 happened, and i lost him. but he didn’t go without a fight. he spent two long periods at the hospital. in and out of the intensive care unit. i was supposed to fly to jakarta that time, and watch shawn mendes perform. i remember fighting to get the tickets since march, but then october rolled around and grandpa isn’t showing any signs of improvement. so i let that chance go. grandpa means more than a concert that i could probably attend in the future. it just didn’t feel right for me to have fun, when grandpa isn’t even awake at the hospital.

even if it was short, i cherished all the years i get to know my grandparents. although i wished younger me would’ve been more thankful for them. now i could wonder what i’d be like, having discussions with grandpa about my studies in uni, listening to the repeated stories of their days when they were young, hear their laughs and see their awkward poses when we take family pictures.  

my dearest pekak, kokoh, dadong, kak raden,

the world is in chaos right now,

but i hope you’re having a great time up there. 

talking to each other about your golden days, 

over a cup of tea or coffee, 

while looking over me,

over us.

[dmtrtyping]

you’d thought that she’d be satisfied and happy with how she is and how perfect her life seems to be. but the thing is, the sole reason to why she seemed like the daughter every parents want and the type of person you want to be, is because she’s not easily satisfied with herself. it’s because anxiety looms at the back of her mind, chasing her, so she’d run faster, become better, strive for nothing but the best.

she wakes up in her neatly organized room. every shelve organized a certain way, every box filled with things arranged by categories and labelled. then she immediately makes her bed, and opened the curtains slightly to let some light in. she takes her phone, and her water bottle. not to forget her clothes for the day. then she either eats breakfast or take a shower. or if her throat feels dry, she’d have a cup of steaming hot water, her favorite.

sometimes she’d rush to make it for her classes on time, buttoning up her shirt with one hand while the other opens up her laptop. when classes starts, she’d sit quietly in front of her desk. the only movement would be her eyebrows, furrowed when the internet connection went slow, or when the lectures didn’t make any sense to her.

if there’s a break, she’d come downstairs to eat something or grab a snack. or to fill up her water bottle, so she’d reach her daily water goals. she drinks mainly water, nothing else. probably milk, but that’s it. no tea, no coffee, no soda, no sugary drinks, not even boba. as she said once, she prefers to get her sugar from actual food, not drinks.

she writes down everything she eats, and at what time she eats. she hasn’t figured out what she’s gonna use out of it, but she writes them anyways. it’s nice to know how much she ate in a day. and to keep track of when was the last time she ate noodles. which she strictly limits to one portion of noodles each month, and they’re not even instant noodles. she has forgotten when was the last time she ate those. 

everyone will probably think she’s weird, but she doesn’t really like the taste of instant noodles anymore. she thinks there’s far more delicious meals than it. and eating instant noodles makes her dizzy and nauseous. 

but she still eats snacks. lots of them. she loves snacking between meals. she probably loves snack more than the actual meal. everything from biscuits, to chips, to cakes, and fruits. she always makes sure she eats at least one portion of veggies or fruits each day. and she’d drink that yogurt drink when she feels heavy. oh and vitamins, she regularly drinks vitamin c infused water. 

in short, she eats a lot. she loves food. and she tries to eat healthily.

she’s been trying to lose some weight and gain muscles for some time now. so far, she’s too afraid to look at the scale. she prefers to eat well and be happy. as long as her pants still fits, then there’s no problem. which is why she exercises regularly too, at least twice a week, around 40 minutes on the treadmill or one hour of basketball. she likes to say that she exercises so that she could still eat the things she love. but also, exercising makes her happy afterwards, that surge of serotonin is what she craved for. and the way exercising also helps her fall asleep.

because god knows how little sleep she gets. she grows up having afternoon naps and a fixed sleeping schedule. she used to go to bed at 8 sharp. then it became 9 pm, then at 10 pm, and soon she finds herself wide awake at midnight, and even at 2 am. with the workload of college from home these days, it’s not hard to find her still on her desk even at 1 am, and fighting to stay awake at 4 am, just 3 hours before she has to wake up and start a new day all over again.

the thing is, if people knew about this, they’d be surprised. her 24 hours seemed longer than anyone else. they way she crams everything and does everything with a fixed duration, creating deadlines for herself, checking off her to do lists. 

she has time to prepare for a new module’s learning materials in less than 48 hours. which is the equivalent of like 4 weeks of classes. she has time to review lectures and write pages worth of handwritten notes, she submits her assignments on time, does side work as the class’ secretary. sometimes she still handles work and attend meetings as head of division from the student’s house of representatives. all while fighting to stay at the top of her class, although she has her bad days too.

on top of that, she writes, she’s in the fandom world. she actively uses twitter and tumblr and instagram. she watches videos on youtube. oh and she makes sure to complete her 200x sit up challenge every 4 days. which she uses to also catch up on some dramas or tv shows. or collect voting tickets for her favorite groups. 

the one thing she’s probably not good at is maintaining a close friendship. she has friends, lots of them. but not the extent where she’s so close that she could easily open up with people. and relationships. she couldn’t maintain that too. no matter how much she tried to. she just couldn’t. 

maybe it’s just because she has no time for that. 

maybe it’s just her not wanting to make time for it. 

maybe she just prefers the company of herself,  

and the late nights,

and the silence.

[dmtrtyping]

today is friday, november 30th. this morning, i had gotten what i wanted to say was closure. i had written a period on our story. it no longer ends with a comma, or a semicolon, or even a question mark. i no longer need to write about it, or spend my days thinking what will happen next.

that was it. the end.

some moments, the tears wouldn’t stop. they flow like rivers, draining everything inside. but even rivers dry out. and once it’s empty, nothing will flow. all that’s left are empty spaces, used to be filled with water and life. 

maybe one day those rivers will be filled with water again. maybe if i let it. 

i wrote the short piece above thinking that i had the strength to continue writing it. but i didn’t. i left in in my drafts, because i had a life to live, and i had to go on no matter what.

and i did. 

left everything behind, and went on with my days. 

it was easier than i thought it would be-

-who am i kidding. 

i knew it’s going to be easy.

i knew all along that it’s going to hurt him a thousand times more than it could ever hurt me. 

at the same time, i decided to stop using my personal social accounts. my instagram, my twitter account. but not my other accounts of course, that’s a separate part of my life.

i thought it would be challenging, to not know what my friends are up to. to not look at other people’s lives. but i was wrong. at first it did felt weird, but i quickly got used to it. not caring about others. not thinking of what to post. it also meant i don’t have to address what happened to anyone. because i assumed nobody else knew.

the one thing that i didn;t expect would happen, was how hard it is to not think of him. i had to stop myself from sending him a message about how my day went, and i had to remind myself that we’re over. because i was so used to telling him about my days, when i’m mad, or happy, or sad. i had to stop myself from wondering what he’s doing, if he’s okay with the decision that i’m making, if he’s eating or sleeping as well as i am. 

maybe it’s easier because i am turning a blind eye on him. because i couldn’t see how badly this is hurting him. maybe it’s so easy because i don’t know if he’s crying, if he’s having trouble sleeping, if he couldn’t eat. maybe that’s why it’s easier for me to get over with.

it’s amusing how i worried over him these days, probably more than when we used to date. of course i’m worried, my decision could possibly  push him to not care about his life anymore. and i don’t want that to happen. 

but then i started to think. who am i have such a big impact on his life ? he’ll get over it soon. he’ll do well. he has more things to worry about, bigger things, so much more important matters to handle. maybe he’s fine, maybe he’s finishing up that research so he can graduate earlier. maybe he’s reconsidering that masters offer in australia. maybe he’s spending his time venting out with his playstation games, or on the field playing soccer. maybe he went out with his friends for coffee, maybe he told them everything over the phone.

i just wished that we met that day. that day i returned all the precious things he gave me. all the things i don’t deserve. if only we had seen each other and say it face to face. if only i could see the pain in his eyes, and see how much damage i have inflicted upon him. 

it might over. but i still happened. for a significant part of my life in fact. so i hope he knows how huge that is. how much he plays an important role in my life so far. how much i loved him. how many memories we shared. how much i’ve shared with him. i hope he knows that i believe i will ever open up my heart the way i did. because i learned how much it could hurt.

i hope he knows how thankful i am for him. for everything he’s given. because without him, i don’t think i’ll be the same person i am now. i hope he knows that. because i haven’t thanked him enough.

it has been a little over a week since it happened. i guess i am back to my usual self at home. no one probably knows what happened other than my mom. not sure about my friends too. they probably know but chose to not ask me about it. 

i’ll probably reactivate my instagram account after this, just to archive everything. then i’ll probably deactivate it again. because frankly, i quite enjoy turning a blind eye on everything. so i won’t get hurt. even if it meant being the villain.

[dmtrtyping]

it’ll be november in three/ four days. it’s surreal to think that we’re entering the second last month of the year. but i feel like the pandemic is going to follow us through the new years. from the way we’re handling it so poorly, 2020 will not see the end of it.

there is one thing i had wanted to do since the beginning of the year. to let go. to stop hurting him. it’s unfair. for him to give everything, when i couldn’t reciprocate it. i am being selfish. keeping him for myself, when i couldn’t even love him anymore. 

but letting him go meant hurting him. it meant destroying our trust. and everything we’ve built. it meant putting scars on him. i don’t want to hurt him. i really don’t. i care for him, after all he’s done to me, he deserves all the happiness in the world. 

goodness i am so lucky. to have him. to have someone like him love me. and i am the world’s biggest idiot for taking it for granted. when anyone would want to have what we had. 

maybe it’s me. no. it is me. it’s the fear of commitment. it’s the fear of the future. it’s the fear of having to share my life. it’s the fear of being apart of someone else’s life. 

i am a child. all of those things scared me, when they shouldn’t.

i don’t want to end the year knowing that i am hurting him. by not giving him what he deserves. i want to give him the freedom. i want him to find someone who could love him as much as he loves them. 

i want to end us. 

but i know it’s going to hurt. i’ve known him for a huge part of my life. i can already see him. refusing to do anything. losing his passion in everything. hurting deeply. 

i don’t want to hurt him. hurting him meant hurting his mother. it meant hurting his family. it will affect the lives of so many people, not just the two of us. 

i don’t want this to ruin his life. but i am scared that it will. i want him to be happy. to keep running for his dreams. to make his family proud. i don’t want be the reason all of that not happening. 

it’s funny how stupid this is. this decision of mine. me. i am stupid. others ended their relationship for more concrete reasons. family, religion, trust, money, a third person, distance, career, anything. i wish i had one of those reasons. 

i care for you. 

but i can’t stay.

[dmtrtyping]

i am writing this after the first day of psychiatry is done. neurology had passed, i did my exams this monday. my scores are a bit meh, but i’m hoping for the best. and i did my best, i think.

i’ve gotten the chance to briefly read my psychiatry textbook. safe to say they are pretty interesting and eye opening. it fascinates me how our brain’s physiology affects our psychological being. and how we haven’t cracked the source for most disorders. i am pretty excited to learn about the way our minds work, how they affect our lives and how some people are living without having control on what they do or think. this is all so interesting.

anyways, i don’t know why i came here again when i should be sleeping, or better yet, studying. i think i just needed a safe space to vent everything out. i’ve been having horrible migraines for the past couple of days. the right half of my head and face has been putting me through torture. i have to take analgesics for it. thank goodness the medicine works.

there’s just something about life these days. something is lingering in the air. my anxiety is resurfacing. not like it ever goes away. but i just feel restless. it gets harder for me to fall asleep. it could be because i haven’t been taking care of myself that well. the evidence can be seen in my eating and exercising schedules. and how bad my skin feels. 

i should get my shit together. there’s less than 90 days left of 2020. and although it has been a horrible year for everyone. i really want to make the most out of it. i kept saying this, i know. i kept saying that i’ll put in more effort and self control in keeping a healthier lifestyle, both physically and mentally.

that’s another thing. self control. the way i see my days are two things. pushing myself way past my limits, or giving myself way to many rewards. i either go on a productivity streak and dismiss all efforts to care about my well being, or i will pity myself too much by slouching off. and then feeling guilty afterwards.

am i happy ?

i have my moments.

would i be happy too if i take better care of myself ?

yes. absolutely.

what’s stopping me from doing so ?

i have no idea. self control ? comfort ? i really have no idea.

maybe i am going through one of my cycles, one of my low points. maybe. i just don’t feel accomplished. i have nothing to be excited about. there are things i should be excited about but they just don’t give that much of a lift on my mood and feelings.

i should read more of that psychiatric textbook and see if i can self-diagnose myself like i always do.

which in other words,

my break time is over and i need to actually get shi- wait no, things done. i need to get things done. not shit, that’s enough swearing for today.

dmtr.

[dmtrtyping]

the first week of neurology is done. what i meant by a week is literally a week, from monday until sunday, every single day filled with classes. this also marks my last pre-clinical year, the fourth year. the year i had always wondered about, seeing how interesting the module topics are.

i had hoped that i could start my fourth year by actually studying on campus. meeting my friends, stressing about parking spaces in the morning, wearing anything other than pajamas and actually going to lecture halls to cram hours of lectures. i miss going to the library during my free time, sitting alone in the tiny cubicle, headphones in, forest app running. i just miss my life before all of this happened. i’m sure everyone does.

goodness, i would never have imagined that i would have to study medicine from home. that i have to learn how to save lives, from a laptop screen. this is insane. and not something i could comprehend. none of us really had any idea what’s going on most of the time.

i just-

this is hard.

i needed to say it.

this is hard as hell.

even for me.

who- loves studying, i guess (?)

i mean, i love learning, and maybe i could tolerate studying (but mainly because i have no other choice). it has been really easy for me to not sleep past midnight, sitting on my chair until my back hurts and my eyes started to get all watery and blurry, and even until my ears began to ring. it has been super easy to do that, i don’t even know why. 

maybe it’s the new beginnings syndrome, the surge of energy and productivity, the eagerness of the start of the semester. maybe this is that high tension phase before the ever-so-scare burnout phase. which hopefully does not happen this semester. i hope not, no more burnouts, please, i don’t know who i’m begging to, but no more burnouts. i want- no, i need to keep a consistent level of productivity this semester. 

i have so much on my plate already. or maybe it’s just all in my head. maybe everything is actually simple, but my mind is clouded by an overflow of anxiety. i just want this all to be over, but at the same time i don’t even know what i really want. 

wait.

sorry.

gotta go. 

i have a stack of to do lists to actually do.

maybe, i’ll come back later.

no promises though.

dmtr.