doramachikku

[doramachikku]

cliché but classic trope: when the person who almost died wakes up in a hospital bed, looks around and sees the object of their affection sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to them because they haven’t moved in days.

[doramachikku]

an uphill struggle, but maybe we can enjoy the journey

(Disclaimer: I’ve read the Four Noble Truths in high school in my Asian Literature class, not actually talked to a monk or joined a group.)

The First Noble Truth Buddha taught his followers is that “All existence is dukkha.” Dukkha is simply put, suffering. In short, the first Truth is that we have to accept that all life is suffering. 

The Second Noble Truth tells us that the cause of dukkha, or suffering, is craving or attachment, tanha. There are 3 kind of tanha, but the general sense I get it is that it is the craving/attachment itself that is the problem, that we have to satisfy those cravings to be happy. And then there it is now - the “I”. There is an “I” that needs to be indulged, to be taken care of, to satisfy, and therefore we crave, and with craving comes all the dark impulses inside us that causes harm to ourselves and to others. We are the very source of the unhappiness we wanted to end, of the darkness we wanted to get rid of, of the emptiness we need to fill.

The Third Noble Truth states that to end suffering, we must also end our desires, and this process is known as nirodha. We have to stop feeding the “I” in order to achieve true happiness and contentment. We have to stop referencing everything to our own self; we have to detach ourselves from our own selves.   

The Fourth Noble Truth, Buddha stated, is that to be able to end our craving, and thus end our suffering, is to follow the Noble Eightfold Path - eight principles of practice and discipline that strike a balance between severe indulgence and severe ascetism, and a practical guideline to life. 

Life is a struggle. From birth to death, we are all plagued with suffering, and it would seem as if we were born to struggle and fight for all of our entirely short lives. Everything and everyone would be against us. We experience all sorts of problems in all aspects of our lives, varying from degree and kind. No one is born happy and content, and remain that way for their entire life. 

And I always have mixed feelings to hear people who have decided to stop living, to seemingly give up the fight, for reasons we probably can never understand. I admit to not understanding why people do this. There are people who struggle with all of their might, who endure everything, in order to survive, and there are those who choose to escape. Some would say that the second is a defeatist attitude, that there are many problems with greater magntitude. I would find myself wondering, after hearing stories of people who chose to take their own lives, why did that happen, while there are people in the world who are oppressed by famine, war, violence and poverty, and yet choose to survive? How do you measure which suffering is greater? Should there be even a comparison? 

I’ve listened and saw different points of view. Some would say that to take one’s life is an escape, a rest, and unless you were in that dark place yourself, you can never know. Some would say that people who took their own lives felt that the world would continue to exist even without them. But some would argue that that kind of thinking is dangerously narcissistic and selfish, because one tends to draw the negativity deeply towards the self. Some would say that it would be insulting to those who have lost everything to natural disasters, to accidents, to violent crimes, to wars, to poverty, to famine - the people who one would expect to simply give up - and yet have continued to struggle and live. 

Maybe I would never understand. Maybe I don’t understand because I’ve never been to a dark place. But what is that “dark place”, anyway? Is that the void inside us that feels cold and indifferent, that made us feel that nothing can be done, that we should just give in to the nothingness so we can finally be free? Because if it is, I may have gone to that place many times. Not many people know that I thought of death many times, and I choose not to tell. I have experienced, as a young child, of the terror of bullying for what seemed to be a long time, and let me just say, though I may have seemed to have overcome it, there were times back then when I thought of simply just going away where no one can find me because I was so scared, and simply because my own family would never understand even if I tell them. How many times did I pray for God to take me away because anyway, who would care if I’m gone? Because of different instances of rejection, my insecurity has sunk to deeper levels, and the only way I can survive is to wear a mask of indifference and careless joviality. I always have to remind myself to never, ever, ever cry or break down in front of people because it would further diminish my worth as a person. A sense of breezy bravado and my fear of showing vulnerability were like sharp daggers constantly (and painfully) scratching me every hour and every single day as a reminder to never let the mask down, to never show weakness. I could never share this story to anyone, not even my family, because I know there will be judgment, and it is true! My fear of heights and my fear of deep water, which are manifestations of my fear of a loss of security, were laughed at by my own father recently, and I felt that even my siblings were impatient with me. Others also laughed or were dismissive. I cried in public because of those fears, and yet all I felt was that in the end, nobody understood. Nobody understood, and I was shamed for revealing that weakness. I was compared to other people, and those comparisons made me feel even more insignificant and worthless, and I felt even lesser of a person than I am. I could now drown in my own insecurities. So yes, maybe I have been into that dark place. Writing about those fears right now made me remember the shame and disappointment in myself, and I feel like I’m tying even more concrete bricks to my legs and further drowning in my fears, and that even that mask of uncaring and pretend strength and self-delusional pride was not even enough anymore to keep me afloat. The rejections I’ve received, and the many failures I experienced, and the verbal attacks which made me feel stupider and weaker, kept making things even more heavier. There’s also the insecurity about my physical appearance, which has also become a subject of insult and careless banter, even my own family does it to me. That’s why I always thought that maybe if I disappear one day, no one will come looking for me. So yes, maybe I have been to that dark place.

And I understand how life is a struggle. I understand when people say that they want to give up because they fail every time, because hey, they’re not the only ones. I understand that sense of relief that maybe if I go over and give in to that void, everything will end and I will be free.

But what brings me back to my senses, so to speak, despite those haunting thoughts and despite that want and desire to go to that “nothingness”, is strangely enough, my enemies who are also my friends - my own insecurity and the fear of vulnerability. “If I kill myself, what would people think about me?” “Would my family think worse of me than before?” “Would I get pity and sympathy?” “Would people understand?” And my own insecurity tells me that nothing will change, that I would be judged even by own family, that I would - wait for it - be seen as “weak”. And those fears, and the fear of not knowing what happens when you die, and the fear of inconveniencing others, all pull me back.

And then I remember that when I was bullied as a kid, I never told anyone, and I still went to school, facing my tormentors, and the shame of exposure to everyone, day after day after day, until I reached high school, when my tormentors were also my classmates, and until I reached college. I remember when, after I failed three major subjects in my first semester as a first year college student (a huge blow to my perceived pride) and deciding not to go home and maybe run into moving traffic, my mother ordered me to go home immediately and I obeyed her in shame. I remember reaching fifth year and not being able to graduate on time with my peers because of our stupid thesis. I remember crying in the bathroom during my first call as a technical support representative (my first job). I remember the constant haranguing of my students as I valiantly tried to teach them a foreign language. I remember how I was faulted for asking what I should have already known, and for not asking what I do not know (which they expect me to know already). I remember people being impatient and judgmental of my slow learning curve or of how I was not as smart as they expect me to be. I remember being kicked out of a prestigious law school, after taking the entrance exams twice, simply because of one subject. I remembered the humiliation of entering a somewhat dismissively second-rate law school, and how I still even fail subjects there. I remember how I was accused of “nepotism”, of getting a job everyone else wanted, of the resentment of why a stranger like me was chosen, when in fact that job was one of the most painful experiences of my adult life, and that I was offered that job (I didn’t ask for it, nor even the things that happened). I remembered the burning shame and humiliation, the resentment towards others, the crippling fear of disappointing others, and the pain of always being rejected for someone better. I remember those things, and I realized that I have endured so much and got this far for me to give in and give up. I remember the untimely death of a little girl who was sweet and smart, with whom I was distant when she was still alive, and the last thing I remember before she died was that I always, always got mad at her, and the guilt has been eating bits of my heart, that I wished I would never again experience that kind of loss which left a huge, irreparable hole in my heart, and therefore, I wish I would never have a child of my own who I fear I would lose someday in the most painful way possible.  

(The kid that was bullied? Well, she’s already a adult with a boyfriend who, despite her still believing that he might find someone better (it’s the insecurity again at work), sincerely tells her he loves her and that he understands, because he too knew the pain of being bullied and being rejected.) 

Every time I get to see that void again, inside my mind, I remember the pain and fear, and that someone really sees me and understands, and I step away, if only for that person who tells me that he loves me, and for the future that we are building together. Every time I come across to stepping over, I remember that I have gotten so far already, and that it’s annoying and tiring to give up. Every time I stumble and fall in the dark, I get up and then there’s light and the road is once again visible. Every time I want to be narcissistic and selfish and take my own life, I see in my own mind a little girl, and I find myself thinking of what might have been if she was still alive (she’s already a young lady, still smart and sweet, and she would have adored her little baby sister who’s a brat, and I would spoil her with eating out and shopping and even traveling, and I see myself teaching her more Japanese words than she learned before, until she’s fluent, and I see her with us during Christmas and huge family events).  

I have to admit that I have a bad time empathizing with people who have regular thoughts of gloom and ending their own lives. I am terrible at showing affection and being tactile. I often make jokes and flighty comments to distract instead of being sympathetic and comforting, and except romantic physicality, I am very much uncomfortable with embracing or even touching other people. I come across as very aggressive and controlling, and even preachy. I sometimes am self-absorbed. But this is how I cope. I easily break down, and I fear that if I break down, everyone will judge my incompetence, and I have to continue building and rebuilding a spine and stomach and heart of steel, and to learn how to be deaf and hard and uncaring in the weakest of moments. I have to constantly remind myself that I still have things I want to do, like travel and see the world, maybe have kids, have my own house and car, and be financially independent and secure. I want to see the peaceful, natural end of a well-lived life, because a well-lived life is the greatest revenge. I admire the poorest of the poor because they struggle so hard to exist, not only for themselves and for their families. I admire people who have lost everything, and yet still wants to live. I honestly pity those who take their own lives, and at the same time, shake them and yell at them for giving up when they have all the opportunities to seek help, when they have people who can listen to them, and when they have the luxury to dive into that void and think that the world can still go on without them, when other people are struggling with everything they have just to survive every single day and to ensure that the people they love survive as well.

And then, I realize that love, and its manifestations, must always be outwards. One should never hoard affection until it transforms to something darker and painful because you selfishly kept them locked up inside. To be able to never step into the void, we have to stop looking inwards and start looking at outwards, and to step into the shoes of other people. As the Third Noble Truth states, we have to stop giving in to our own desires and stop the tendency to divide everything as “I”/”myself” and “the rest of the world”. And the Noble Eightfold Path, which teaches us how to live life and keep things in balance so that we can never suffer either from too much indulgence or too much detachment (which are both unhelpful), and because we keep the balance, we can avoid thinking of ourselves too much, and learn to think of other people as well. And this is how we share positive energy and happiness, and divide the burdens of sadness and negativity.

We then need to stop thinking of two things: 1) that the world revolves around us, and/or 2) that the world can continue even without us. I have to agree with the belief that both of these ideas are narcissistic, egoistic and greedy. Both show the opposite sides of putting ourselves above everything and everyone else, to the point that we sometimes magnify too much our own sadness and suffering that we forget everyone else is in the same struggle as we are. We need to stop referencing “I” and instead reference “we”. We have to realize that we are not the center of the world, nor are we detached from it, but we are part of the world, and who we are and what we do impacts another person. This is why we must be considerate of others and be responsible for others. I know this may sound already preachy, but we actually affect other people. We are a part of this huge ecosystem, and strangely enough, we are not dispensable that we do not make an impact in another person’s life, nor are we indispensable that the world stops revolving if we cease to exist. The balance between taking care of our own self and finding our own happiness and taking care of others and helping them find their happiness must always, always be maintained.

And maybe, this is how we survive, avoid giving in to the void, and maybe find true happiness - by accepting that life is one great struggle because of our inability to see beyond ourselves, and we need to see beyond ourselves to continue to fight, and to walk with other people and share the burdens and the blessings.