There are also days when I think back to the trauma which I had to go through as a kid.

The physical trauma? The emotional trauma of having to keep Gloria's secrets for her.  TO the point where I had to bury all of my shit.  My eating disorders.  My narcissism?? Even though it's not seen as narcissism in Asia.  

Still learning how to deal with all of that in my own space.  And maybe that's why I love being alone.  And speaking to Dad and Mum on the phone but not having them in my space.  They're kept at bay by physical distance.  

Anyway, just random thoughts for a Monday morning.  I think I'm just tired and hungry. 

Gloria

There are days when I think back to who Gloria is without Aaron.  The simple, Adelaide girl who moved to Japan on her own for work.  With no parents, no friends, and no one to even speak English with besides her workmates.  I guess I never think about that part. 

The Gloria who always takes my calls. Who always looks out for me (except when she's looking out for Aaron).  The selfless older sister who puts everyone else before her.  The one who is coming to Hillsong (apparently) because she wants to know if it's a good church.   Funnily enough, she didn't have that issue with CPC.  

I'm thankful for her today.  

Today.

I went to visit Becky today.  I went to look at her vacant room (I cannot believe she sleeps next to the door. On a sofa couch.) It honestly just reminded me of how privileged and spoiled I am.  To think that I berated my parents for buying all of the stuff for me. And asking them why they would buy it for me.  I cannot believe how arrogant I have become.  How little I remember the slums of the Philippines.  And Thailand.  How little I know of poverty. I have been so incredibly blessed by my dad. and my mum.  In a world where I have so much. Where I have been gifted so much.  To have refused it.  Out of pride? Selfishness? Wanting to fit in with my friends who don't have that much?  It's a strange feeling.  To be stuck in the middle, everywhere I go.  Not rich or white enough to hang out with my Pembroke friends.  Not Asian enough for church friends.  Too rich (?) for not for profit people.  Not rich enough for corporate people.  

I remember Lydia.  I was a little bit astounded by her confidence in herself.  In her passion for fashion.  But also her willingness to listen.  And be there.  

The question constantly begs: where do I belong? Where do I fit in? They say a friend to many is a friend to none.  Audrey G said that I have a lot of friends - which is true to an extent.  I know many people, but only shallowly.  I guess it's a very Sydney thing.

I don't think I have any deep relationships with anyone.  And strangely enough, I don't think I ever have.  The deepest relationships I've had are with people from overseas - where I was able to actually be myself with no labels attached - and they are the ones who I've wanted to keep in contact with.  Them and Clifford. 

But even then, I don't even contact much.  And yet I know that we will always be able to pick up where we left off.  I guess I am thankful for those friendships.  

Sometimes I think I am just so used to being alone.  I am so used to it now.  If I worked from home, I could easily just talk to my colleagues, get human interaction from people at Woolworths and come home and just write.  Write and write and write.

If it wasn't for social media, then I would actually have no idea of what's going on in the world.  

Things I've Realised Recently

For some strange reason, I sometimes think I'm still stuck in 2019.  My apartment decor hasn't changed.  My clothes are still the same.  The people I see are still the same sometimes. 

2019 was a door mat year.  I took on way too much to handle.  I had no one defending my own interests.  I put everyone else first and for the first time in my life, I burnt out.  In a ridiculously severe fashion.  

My mind is still recovering.  The pace at which Sydney goes is incredibly fast.  For someone who had just come back from Korea's countryside, it was a thrill, but too much of a thrill.

Things needed to slow down in that time.  

And then they did.  COVID brought everything to a stop.  

People kept living.  People kept making money.  People kept making friends.  Albeit it somewhat virtually.

So now, we live in a virtual cross real world.  Something I am still coming to terms with and honestly struggling to get a grip with.

Perhaps it was my experience where no one was answering my cries for help.  I was so afraid of voicing out my opinion - especially since I had grown up in a conservative society where no one questioned authorities.  Any question was to be perceived as an act of defiance.  

It feels good to get everything out on 'paper'.  Journalling has always been a way of mine to get my thoughts in order.  To get everything out.  Instagram has stopped for now - it's been a really long time actually. 

The constant stress of not finding a job.  The constant stress of whether I'll be able to afford to live in my apartment or if I need to move back home.  The stress of whether I need to find another place to rent out if I do go home.  And where do I go now? Where am I in terms of my life?  

My mother tells me to keep going.  One foot ahead of another, and we shall see where the road leads.

It feels dark sometimes.  And yet I know there is light ahead.  I know there is light in me, trying to get out.  

Perhaps this is what real life anxiety feels like.  The weight of the world on your shoulders.  And yet the hope that everything will turn out alright.