…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.
I AM screaming.
Screaming in my head. I want to yell. I want to shout out loud. I want to kick some ass and box some nose. But I can’t.
I’M SUPPOSED TO BE A GIRL. I’m born one. Just sometimes quite unlucky enough to have a naturally higher testosterone levels than most girls.
You can tell by the length proportion of my fingers. They’re long, lean, and my index and ring fingers are relatively similar in length compared to most women I have observed in real life. “The links with sports are the strongest I’ve found,” explains British psychologist John Manning to USA Today. “They’re particularly strong with endurance running.”
No wonder I’m physically more resilient than most women I know. But that’s not my point here.
To the world, I am just one tiny little dot. And I’m still shutting up and listening.
BUT, I DO WRITE. I hope to write down other things besides my anger. These emotions in my head I know I cannot control. There are so many things beyond your locus of control in life, but there are just some things that makes you more emotionally vulnerable.
Why does everybody keep telling what not to do? What not to do? What not to do? What NOT to do?
As a matter of fact, I almost wrote a sentence from the last paragraph as “I hope NOT to write down …” Here’s my problem: Even though I’m physically resilient, my emotions run wild and free whenever I run, I am less emotionally resilient. For the solution, I keep this diary of mine as another way to move on from my negative feelings, because it’s just a bad idea to dwell on negative feelings, and I don’t feel comfortable either. Really.
Although I know that the world loves to scream at you back that you’re not supposed to do this, or you’re not supposed to be that, or you’re not this or you’re not that. You’re a nobody.
But I guess that’s just a test of what real endurance means.
As a fellow practitioner of positive psychology, Martin Seligman reinforced me to think about the positive things out of every situation, then reinforce the positive people who have made the situation happen. Sure, Reed is now my boyfriend, although for some reason, Sean keeps coming back into the picture. But instead of thinking about the love of my life, or the life that depends upon someone else, I’d like to think that everything I do is ultimately a self-fulfilling prophecy, because I believe in it.
I BELIEVE IN CREATING A LIFE enriched by my active voice, my valuable voice. I guess it’s the sum of money I actively value-add through the act of writing, while I’m thinking about killing myself.
SHOULD I KILL MYSELF NOW, OR SHOULD I DO IT LATER?
Should I actively kill myself, or should I let it bow down to me with a passive voice? I guess that’s the closest way I can get in order to think positively right now.
In every bad feelings I emote just because somebody tells me what to NOT to do, after being the youngest one in every situation and not just in my own family, I am aware that I’ve been taken preventive care, because the world is indeed full of shit. Yes, I’m aware of that. My whole life I’ve been told what NOT to do. NOT to move, NOT to get into an art school, NOT to date anybody, NOT to do things until you understand. Ironically, it’s by DOING SOMETHING that you come to understand. You have to be young and stupid to be old and wise.
JUST A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGO, I’ve just learned how to drive a car properly. Now not afraid to drive alone, even at night.
Yesterday, however, due how much fragile these bottled up feelings are, which is the case for most women, I was driving at a high speed with my brother by my side. He disappointed me yet again, this is not the first time. My blood was pumping high when he didn’t show some responsibility in alarming situations. When he disappointed me for how he reacted when he found out I have a boyfriend, I think it was just me trying to expect something that I know I won’t get. But yesterday, he overtook his emotions and throw it against me, saying that he just didn’t feel like going. Just didn’t feel like it. Just did NOT feel like it.
Last night, I drove at the highest speed and rammed the car on its highest. I exhausted the car’s fumes as if I’m releasing my rage while keeping my mouth shut. The traffic was unbearable but the motorcycles and cars taking over me and all did NOT matter. What matters is the question of my emotional resilience: How can I get over feeling this bad?
So I just go along and take risky turns from left to right but still going really fast. I have to be on time and that’s the most important thing. What matters is not taking somebody else’s life.
Including the person sitting right beside me.
NO MATTER HOW MUCH ANGER I FEEL because of certain people, or certain situations, I know I hold the responsibility for their lives to a certain degree, no matter how big or small. Saying things to people you are related to physically or emotionally, negative things like “I want to kill myself” or “I wish I was never born” is completely unhealthy. The Bible also said that it’s not right to kill. I figured, not even yourself.
Sometimes it’s a pain, really, to deal with shit. My momma even told me: “You see all the motorcycles on the street? The angkot? The public bus? They can prevent you from moving forward anytime they want, however they want, so just let them go. Once you’ve lost sight of them, you’ll move forward even better. If not, always find a way out.
True, they always say when there’s a will, there’s a way.
“Just think of them as shit. Ignore them and they’ll pass you by.”
I was awe-strucked. She never really said the word ‘shit’ before in my entire life, not at least in front of me. After nagging me things I should NOT do my entire life, she learned that the right way to teach me is to encourage me, not to prevent me, and that shows care.
She has really changed over the years. She deals with her feelings so well. And I know I must too.
And my will is to die, honorably.
My pen is a torchlight. I am invisible.
My soul is no-thing. Yet, of me the fire inside burns forever.
And before my soul is buried under the deathbed I shall do whatever it takes to withstand the tests of time and thrust through the linear successions we are all innately capable of moving called LIFE. That was my oath to death.
AFTER WRITING THIS ENTRY, I finally realized the problem: I learn better through reinforcement rather than punishment, or anything closer to punishment. When my mother seated beside me while I was driving, I always feel strong. She privately prayed for my safety in the temple, but in front of me, she has my best interest at heart.
“You have to keep pushing yourself so that you have no fear. Take control of the car. You control the car. It leads you to where you want to be. There is no right or wrong way to drive, but you have to drive safely because you are dealing with life and death.”
Instead of a constant negative reinforcement whispering behind my back, I do better at occasional positive reinforcements about my strength.
So I guess that’s why I get so angry. And after some thinking, I’m now calmer. Thus the saying writing is thinking.
Phew. (Note: Emotional resilience is not a trait. It’s a process. It’s a way people cope with life’s most annoying obstacles).
SALUNA is signing off.
Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries