Friday, April 11, 2008

What I Want From Life (Part I)

When I was young, I wasn't sure of what I really wanted to get out of life. I wasn't even sure of what I wanted to be. Sure, I was pretty good at my studies and it gave me enjoyment. But there wasn't a specific subject that interested me. I was uninterested with the world at large and now looking back, I looked like such a blank slate, directionless and waiting for some divine inspiration to nudge me into the right place of some massive jigsaw puzzle. I didn't believe there was a god per se, but I could always hope that there would be some clear indication of what I was good at doing. I was somewhat envious of my sister who wasn't good at her studies at all but was interested in and does well in art. For her, the path is clear.

In a sense, you could say it boils down to me being good at studying because it left me little room to be pursue specializations. I was too absorbed with being good in the studies game - it was just a single track mind of being the best in school work. It's not a bad thing really, because it keeps your canvas clean for when you really want to paint on it. Studying gives you options. It defers the decision point when you dip your brush into paint and put down the first splash of character. I started fairly late when I was 16. At that point, I felt like a self has truly emerged from my chrysalis. It's when the insipid I-ate-bread-this-morning diary entries became reflections of thoughts that slowly form the basis of my personal philosophy.

Writing was such a joy and it was like I couldn't stop. I wrote many many personal letters from then. They took hours to compose but I truly enjoyed them. It was only in university, after I settle in with Johnny that they stopped. Our relationship filled up my life and ironally left me little time to reflect and record our adventures in that little suburban town. It is only now when my work has receded to being a job that I find my voice again. Dang, it's now 5:30pm and I want to rush off to a shoes warehouse sale. I'll continue this another time....let's hope I don't lose the thread of thought.

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Monday, April 07, 2008

Depressed

I was (or maybe still am) depressive. Thankfully not manic (yet). The stress and disappointment at work drove me to it though perhaps I had the tendency to view things in the worst possible light in the first place. I'm the kind of person who'd imagine that I might get knocked down by a car as I cross a street. If Johnny comes home late without telling me, I'd imagine that maybe there was an accident somewhere and he needs help. I'm horribly morbid and it certainly makes me unhappy when I think about things that way, but deep down I've thought that if I imagine the worse, I couldn't get more disappointed. Of course what this means is that I experience the mental agony and suffering even before the actual event and most of the time needlessly.

I'm just not quite the easygoing happy person I was when I was younger. Maybe I feel like I don't deserve happiness. I remember when A level results were out, I was overjoyed to find that I aced the exam, but the happiness didn't last very long when I witness the disappointment of e*. I felt guilty for being happy. I was even angrier at the perfectionists who would lament loudly about the A- they got for GP and how it would mar their perfect score. How insensitive they were, I thought. I remember the star pupil in every teacher's eye and how dejected she was that she didn't get the perfection she expected and people around her saying "She is so brave/good that she is still going out for celebration lunch with us". It's certainly not the end of the world for her. I was upset for days about the way the world works, that insensitive cads would rise in power because they know how to please those around them. I'm not like them. I want people to take me for who I am, no more, no less. If no one recognizes the goodness in me, does it mean it doesn't exist? But worse still would be to sell myself out for a false notion of success. And so I continue to search for those who would embrace both the good and the bad that comes with me.

But I digress. We were talking about depression. A couple of months back, I suffered from (mild?) depression. The lack of job progression made me morose. I was disappointed. This wasn't what was promised. And I saw many of my peers move on to gain exposure in other departments while I am still stuck with the mindless number crunching and mind-reading games. It wasn't fair. Looking back, I hated the job and company since month 1. At first I thought it would get better but it doesn't. The fundamental decision making mechanism (i.e the leadership) was wrong for me. So I endured, thinking that there is an out to all this soon. But my ark never came. And so I stood awashed in my own plight, moping about how unfair my employers are to me. The depression became so paralyzing that I was unable to be productive for a period of time. I was under a lot of stress and I really just wanted to run away, disappear.

And then I slowly recognize the symptoms for what they are - I am depressed. And I talked about it to darling, I cried, I cursed, I shook my fists. It was catharthic. Slowly, I was becoming my old self. Happier, cynical and with a chip on my shoulder to boot. There's no point torturing myself with unhappy thoughts. I just totally withdrew from the company. In WoW speak, I'm afking work. Basically, if the company's input to me is too low, I'd just have to adjust my output - go home early, work slowly. I'm certainly not going to put in a lot of effort anymore. And while I'm doing that, count down the 15 months more that I need before I say an unregrettable farewell.


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Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Cynicism

I'm a self confessed cynic.

The Oxford English Dictionary apparently defines a cynic as showing "a disposition to disbelieve in the sincerity or goodness of human motives and actions" and a tendency "to express this by sneers and sarcasms"

Cynics are often viewed as pessimists, essentially negative people with a predelication to criticize. For me, it's a view of the world less rose-tinted glasses. I do not believe that there is only evil in the world. I merely recognize that not everyone is good and in fact most people are ignorants, braggers, liars, self-serving etc. I question the motives of people's actions. But despite all the ills I've seen in the human being, I believe that there is some good some where. I mean lookie, I've found it in myself, in my darling and those nearest and dearest to me.

Perhaps it is because of my cynicism that I find myself lamenting that I have few friends. I'm looking for inherent goodness but I haven't found enough of it. I've seen myself shy away in disgust as I discover the ugly side of people. I'm civil enough to them but it's difficult for me to respect or make effort to social with them.

What I don't get is the negativity that people associate with cynics. I'm not critical of people just for the sake of doing so. I just say things as I see it. I want truth, not truthiness. I cannot pretend with innocent wonder that everything is beautiful because it's not. I want to see a pile of garbage for what it is, not create euphemisms and window-dress it and call it art.
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