Pursuing the Cliched - Happiness

Again, just another self-reminder. I used to think, why do people like to think they're depressed, or more like, announce to the world that they are depressed. Is it cool? Does this give you attention? I guess at this point it isn't even about good or bad attention as long as it's just attention. No, I'm not talking about people who were clinically diagnosed as depressed and had to sit through therapy and take medication just to get a good night's sleep. I'm talking about those who announce that they are depressed, and have low self-esteemed, followed by a selfie saying how ugly they are and how crappy they feel that no one loves them because they are depressed while..... posting selfies everyday. As a kid, I couldn't help judging these people. Naturally when people tell me that they are depressed, I'd just roll my eyes unless they were clinically proven because high school was filled with people like this. Some would even self-harm for fun and got their friends to try it with them and when people who were generally concerned show up and try to help, they'd say no, they were just doing it for fun and were mentally fine. I seriously didn't brain.

You could say I was quite the kepoh type. I loved counselling sessions, I love helping people (though recently I've learnt that they way I 'help' people is by putting my right and wrong labels on their behaviour/problems/actions, you name it), which was why I took up counselling. However my dreams of becoming a counsellor went so far as getting a Diploma because I couldn't get into the University I wanted that didn't provide public financial aid, and required great merits to get a scholarship. I never worked well with people and after group assignments started, everything was downhill until I just gave up on the idea and got a job. My note to self was that at least I tried it out.

Out in society, I started out pretty low in the food chain, with less to no motivation and much less the love for life. But in all honesty I wasn't really bothered. But due to unexpected opportunities and a turn of events, I started moving out of my comfort zone. Trying new things, getting used to not knowing shit. Getting used to being inferior but at the same time be humble and confident about myself. My life took a turn in a better direction and I started to like what I see and what I am becoming.

Up until last year... Now a little hint-wise, I'm not very close to my family. I love them, but they are damn fucked up in their own ways. I have always stayed out their path because I am the 'one-who-will-be-married-off-so-no-point-investing-on' type of existence. The whole family, except me, were into the same business, except me (emphasize). Because no matter how good the profit, I'd rather walk another path, than walk the same as them. So I was financially independent, thought still living under the same roof, but I do pay rent. While my sibling pays shit, and he makes 5 times my salary, but I'm not even complaining anymore XD So you'd imagine, I'd be free and quite privileged in a sense. And yes, I was. Life was great, even without a goal, it was still nice. Up until shit hits the ceiling. Our Their monetary problems seem to rise one after the other. And the first solution was to sell off my car. Partially mine when my sibling decided that he was too good for a 1.3 car (installments and downpayment all paid by his parents) and when I took over I was expected to pay for the remaining installments, which I did, because it was my responsibiliy, as told by Queen Bee. So great, this is like paying back for the first half of the car so yea, sell mine, whatever. To be frank, I really didn't mind. As long as now it feels like I'm owing them less, I'm down with it. So I got a new car and started to pay it fully mine from start to finish. I was getting more and more independent.... At least I thought I was.

However, the financial problems didn't stop there. More and more appeared and suddenly people were begging me for help and if I don't I'd be the one in trouble with the loan sharks because they know where we live and I'm easier to catch. Figures. The series of events unfolded into one of us running away to another country, one of us trying to move out since her treasure is no longer in the country and doesn't need the huge ass expensive rented house solely rented for her treasure and one to us having a medical problem and needed surgery, stat. It was like drama. Only I'm not sure why do I have to help pay back for other people's loan with my savings and have my salary criticized as measly and useless by bankrupted family members and quit my job to help them open a new shop and work without salary and live off bread for the sake of their millionaire dreams where they gambled off the poker tables. I was at a very low point of my life where I felt used and very very disappointed. I had no ways of paying the house rent, shop rent (company transferred to my name and so did all commitments because I'm the only one in the family not blacklisted), having the bank call my office to chase for a loan someone else loaned under my name in the name of family and I had to be the one to pay back. Having no say in everything they were doing wrong, but responsible in helping them clean up shit and let them use my name to borrow money from people I don't even know. If I was not mentally scarred growing up with these people, I am now. I hated this line to be honest, I had no fucking interest in this but I still did it. For the sake of family. My insomniac nights became worst, I didn't have an appetite and my weight dropped drastically from a 45 to a 38. To the point that I started crying randomly at work everyday, to barely controllable road rage. If it weren't for my boyfriend keeping me in-check, I wouldn't be eating or have a sense of reality at all. It was too much. I had to give up my life, my financial stability, my name, my time and my future plans all for the people whose problems got out of hand. While I got nothing in return and even worse, responsibilities that were not mine to begin with. You'd say it is for family. Standing on the sidelines, I'd too, say it's for family. But there was a lot more going on with one of them being hospitalized, one having constant emotional breakdowns and one just not growing up and constantly feeling sorry for himself and blaming other people for his downfall instead to taking responsibility.

There were nights when left alone when my partner was away for business, I would suddenly breakdown and have constant thought of suicide. My chest would hurt so much it felt hard to breathe and the only thing keeping me alive was the fear of pain to get to salvation. Yes, I was a coward. I was getting worse, and non of the things I used to enjoy entertained me anymore. I couldn't work without throwing a fit. I couldn't say a proper sentence without yelling and I felt myself getting out of hand. And then, I met a friend. (My 'bestfriends' gave me another hard time in another way, and one even said my problem isn't as serious as I make it sound so I made a point to shut it and just keep it to myself. Until this friend, who tells me that he too has been through a lot. But the most beautiful thing this once stranger could do, was not judge me. So before I did something I would regret, I asked for help. He introduced a person who could help me, and I wish I could have met them earlier.

I guess I just needed recognition. It made my plan to runaway from all this less guilty. Because he told me, that it wasn't my fault. I did not wish for this but why am I still a part of this? It really didn't matter if bystanders called me an ungrateful child. It really doesn't matter if the whole family ends up living under the bridge. I did what I can to help, but they abused it, and took what I was capable of to cover their mistakes instead of learning from them. I did not have to live for them. I did not have to underestimate them. Because with or without me, it would still be hell in there. So it was okay for me to climb out. It was okay for me to go back to the way I was. I can live for myself. I was not wrong. But for once in a very long time, I felt me shoulders relax. That night I slept like a baby, and the next morning I don't feel as exhausted as I was before. I felt calm. I felt my head clear up and was able to look forward to things. Swallowing wasn't difficult anymore, although I still needed to work on taking more than one meal a day. It was just less than a week, but I hadn't had a fit or a negative feeling. All was well. What's more, is that I could start seeing my future. To me, that was what happiness looked like. After years of feeling sorry for myself, feeling worthless, blaming my past, I'm looking at myself now. It was that simple. Happiness was living for yourself, regardless of others. I know the theory. I just didn't understand it. At least now without having a stranger say it to my face.

Now I'm better. I'm going to live for myself, and not give a shit be it family or friends because honestly no matter how much you do, people may not appreciate you because that's what you've been doing all along. Don't let yourself be taken granted for. People like that, we are better off without. So here's to my recovering self, and here's to a step forward in self-awareness :)