Honest Confessions and "Finding Myself"

What does "I need to find myself" even mean? It feels like a cope-out.

Whatever. I haven't written in a while again Now, I've decided to restart. I feel like writing into"the void" is therapeutic -- as if someone is actually hearing me. Writing in a journal, paper or electronic, just doesn't feel the same way. Perhaps that's because I feel like I'm merely repeating thoughts in my own head.

I think it's time for me to be honest. I've always been too proud to be honest with a lot of my own feelings. I never wanted to appear weak or desperate.... or not independent... because, of course, I should be able handle basically anything that life throws at me: "Having survived so much physical and emotional trauma on my own, what can't I handle?" Also, by keeping my own needs and feelings in check and within myself, I felt like I can be more helpful to those closest to me in dealing with their issues. I want those closest to me to think that I have the answers, that I can take care of myself. I never wanted people to truly worry about me in their times of trouble. I tried so hard to be doing "the right things" and let them do whatever they felt like they needed to do -- but it seems that my behavior only leads to things working out for everyone else. In the end, I just get screwed.... and no one knows. Everyone thinks that it's so much easier to believe that I'm always ok.

And truth is: I am SO not ok. Perhaps all this type of behavior gets me.... is here.

So, where is here?

I'm alone in a city that I don't like. I'm working. And working. And working. And pretending to be happy living this sham of a life. And occasionally doing very self-destructive things.

How did this happen?

I have no idea. I'll admit that, this time, I have no idea.

A little over a year ago, right now, I felt like I had support, that I'd found someone who cared deeply about me, that everything would work out, that I would be in California. Then in late August, to be cliche, life just jerked the rug out from under me. My then boyfriend.... well, let's insert a back story here....

(He and I started dating at the very beginning of 2008. We'd been through a lot given traumatic events that I experienced, given his incessant bouts of depression/lashing out. We had been long distance for a year at this point... Throughout the relationship, I tried to be patient and supportive. I really believed in him, in us. Because of my own experiences, I wasn't able to ever truly trust people or let anything become emotionally close.... This time, I confronted this. He convinced me that I could trust him with my life.... that he would always be there for me. So, I was the same to him. I told myself that I would do whatever it was that he needed and that I would support him no matter what he did. However, I have to admit, it was a volatile process. When he was happy, I was happy, and we were amazing. When he was depressed as he often was during the last year of our relationship and the first year of business school, I was miserable, and we fought.)

.... So, he Skyped me from Cambodia to let me know that he needed space and "alone time" to find himself. I understood... conceptually. He did promise that he was doing it for himself but also indirectly for us... because I was supposedly "irreplaceable" and that if he were capable of being properly in a relationship... he would see himself with me. Etc. etc. And I believed him.... So many people have said that this was retarded... I'm not unaware. I had seen how he was that last year, and I knew that he needed to sort himself out... As much as it hurt, I also realized that the only way for him to do so was while not with me -- during the relationship, it was too easy to assign blame for any negativity to me and to shift responsibility to me. However, the understanding part didn't mitigate the hurt. Making matters worse, I had already terminated my lease to move to California, where he was and was less than a month from moving. My life was literally in a storage box in Boston. In that one Skype conversation, I became boyfriend-less, homeless, and totally stranded. At that point, I had also just stopped talking to my mother....

Yet, I felt like I needed to hide my reaction. I needed to hide how not ok I was, how I truly did not see it coming, how helpless I felt.... Because then I would be weak... and feel rejected and desperate. And he would worry... and feel badly... and not be able to do what he needed to do.

So, I shutdown... or tried to. Tried to shutdown and make myself feel better by feeling nothing... like I always did. But I couldn't. I wanted to not be awake or aware or conscious. Everything was killing me. So, I did the one thing that I should have learned not to do from my last emotionally invested relationship.... time for another aside....

(In high school, after certain traumatic experiences, I was emotionally a mess. The only time that I was a truly out-of-control mess. I was immensely depressed, couldn't help myself at all, and felt entirely worthless and insecure. During that time, I met someone who tried so hard to reach me emotionally. He help me through that very dark time; so, even though it was only 4-5 months long, that relationship.... saved me. I've never admitted this except to my closes friends: I truly owe him my life and who I am now. Without him, I don't know how I would have made it through that time, and, for that, I will always be grateful and here for him if he ever needed anything.... Anyway, subsequently, certain unfortunate events occurred, which left us with a grave misunderstanding. He was hurt but would never admit it..... and I was lost and confused and couldn't emotionally shutdown again... Exactly, how I felt this last August. Of course, in that state, I messed up. I jumped into another relationship that was entirely neither right nor healthy -- which also ended up screwing me in the end in the worst ways possible in college. Consequently, my high school ex and I didn't speak for years... If I hurt him, he never admitted it. We off and on made weak efforts to sort things out over the course of 7 years... For those 7 years, I never truly apologized or tried to really admit what I wanted and how I felt. By the time I realized, it just wasn't it was anymore... And nothing could be fixed. Now, we barely talk. Maybe it still would have end up as nothing if I had been honest and not afraid, but, at least, I would've tried.)

... The lesson I learned then was to not let my own confusion, self-destructiveness, and desperate attempts to regain control take over and lead me into the really stupid decision of immediately jumping into a not-thought-through relationship.... in an attempt to destroy whatever was left... to force myself to reset.... to pretend to move on and facilitate feigning a state of okay-ness.

Of course, this was exactly what I then proceeded to do last August.

I had nowhere to go, and one of my guy friends was available. He appeared nice/sweet, etc., then and really wanted me. And I did exactly what I should have known not to do: I jumped into a not-thought-through relationship. More than that, I submerged entirely myself in a not-thought-through relationship: I drowned out all the pain and hurt and real feelings that I had.... with feelings that I tried to convince myself were real. I dove in so deep in order to not feel myself: we moved in together immediately. Needless to say, that did not end up healthily -- physically fights, concussions, emotional abuse, etc. In the end, to literally save myself, I moved out by February.

So, I am here. In the exact place I was. Without knowing it, I have been repeating the pattern. I tried to let this last ex believe that I was ok, that I saw it coming, that I wasn't hurt. In the end, given how I feel now, it's obvious that none of that was true. However, in that process, I messed up. I wasn't there for him (I was made to cut off all ties with him), and I hurt him... even though he won't ever admit it just like my high school ex. I ran away instead of behaving authentically.... even though I've insisting on acting honestly... forced myself to act honestly during all this time after my high school ex. The one time it matters... I didn't. Again.

I heard through the grapevines of facebook that he's now seeing someone. The truth is: I just can't deal. I know I did something orders of magnitude more severe.... but I didn't leave to "need alone time to find myself." I believed that he would do what he needed to do and come back for me, like he said he would. I should have admitted my pain. I should have waited like I wanted to. I should have acted authentically... like the hurt, abandoned person I was and not worried about my pride or image or whatever.

I walked down the street to work this morning, and I felt like a zombie. Right now, I really wish that I had an "Undo" button. Or a "Generate Valium Prescription" button. Or a "Put Oneself in a Coma" button.

So, I've decided to just admit everything. Fuck if it makes me look stupid or desperate. Maybe this is the only time.... I should get it out while I can. It has been long, long overdue.

Horror Movie Viewing Experience

So, let me begin by saying that I have spent many hours (likely way too many hours) watching all types of horror movies. There are so many categories from basic slashers to gore porn to mood horror to snuff-like monstrosities. We can watch them at home on a small screen by ourselves in the dark or in theaters in a crowd of anxious victims. Which is better?

I was thinking about this question while watching The Crazies last Friday (which I must say was surprisingly well done... though, of course, the bar has been greatly lowered these days). There were many a moments when being in the theaters with others amplified the experience... in a good way. As the suspense builds, you can hear the popcorn crunching slowing and the people straining to anticipate the moment of shock. When the axe falls, everyone screams and then giggles, and the experience is complete. Similarly, as a hero finally stands up and takes action, someone cheers, someone claps, and the audience’s resonance makes the experience.

Yet, I am immediately reminded of when I watched Paranormal Activity in theaters. I still wish that I hadn’t…. watched it in a theater that is. I thought that the movie was a rarity of the genre these days and would have loved to experience it properly. Alas, that was not to be. In the theater, the girls giggling next to me during the moments of unbearable tension, the couple making irrelevant and stupid comments behind me whenever they were confuse (which was often), and the audience generally lacking in focus and cohesion ruined all the great parts of the movie: the subtle build up, the phenomena that are meant to remain unexplained, and the gentle hand which nudges but does not whip the crowd into action.

So, which is it? I think the answer obviously lies in the category of horror. An action-filled horror which aims to elicit direct reactions in the crowd ought to be seen in theaters. Frankly, these are often the entertaining but bad horror and typically fall into the categories of gore porn, slashers, zombie movies, American supernatural horror, etc.; so, examples are Hostel, Saw, Land of the Dead, Scream, etc.

On the other hand, horrors which are more subtle and driven by developing an ambience of unease or are concerned with particularly disturbing content are probably better on your own screen watched in a dark room by yourself. In a crowded theater, someone with a low threshold for unease is likely going to release the tension for everyone by giggling or commenting, and, once the mood is ruined, the movie has no chance. Now, do you really want to waste a perfectly well made horror like that? Most Asian horror movies fall in this category. Examples are Ringu (not The Ring 2, American version… that one was hilarious in theaters and fall in the former categories), Suicide Club, The Tale of Two Sisters, etc.

Finally, there are movies for which where you watch them doesn’t matter because they are good either way; they are dependent neither on audience resonance nor on intense unease. I would consider movies like 28 Days Later, Dawn of the Dead, Thirst, etc., to fall in this category.

Life - Restart

Wow, I just realized that it's been more than a little while since I last wrote. To update everyone, I have officially received my Ph.D in engineering! The many months of hectic toiling and the subsequent, much needed recovery resulted in the long hiatus.

However, excitingly, I will be returning to once again commit to blogging regularly... Tentatively, I will be writing one entry every Sunday for my own (and, hopefully, others') amusement.

Emotional Gold Digging

It's been such a long time! I'm so sorry to those of you who've nagged me about writing. I've had a few... complicated... months. With everything now more or less back on track, I'm making the resolution to post an entry every week, preferably on Wednesdays.

I think blogging about the details of one's personal life is pedestrian and presumptuous. More often than not, such writing spirals out of control to become merely venting. Who really wants to read about other people's frustrations? So, with regard to the last few months, I'll merely divulge the following: I underwent a serious situation that was both alarming and disappointing; the situation was serious enough that my personal safety was at stake and that the legal system needed to be involved. Everything is fine now, but the experience has definitely left me with more clarity. Some might call it cynicism, but such clarity is refreshing.

Now, enough about me. Let's talk about... pride and relationships. In America, we're usually taught to have pride in ourselves, to respect our desires, to just do what we want. In a society so focused on the individual, often, people forget that not everything is about toughing it out and winning. This is especially true with us, "independent modern females," who have been raised to be stubborn and competitive, scorning insecurities, indecisiveness, and "feelings." Such traits are excellent for work and for school... but not so much for relationships. As my mother (who's always right :P) says, "If you always act like you can handle everything, no one will want to be careful with you." When we always seem to be in control, over time, even sensitive guys will act more and more inconsiderate, not because they care less and less, but because they adapt to our ability to "be ok." Because of this, when events have escalated to a point such that we do react, their reaction is merely a self-righteous exclamation of "why are you acting so out of character?" Worse, our independence can be misconstrued as lack of concern: our self-righteous stubbornness makes others feel as if they are not as important to us as our pride. To put it outrageously: we put up with frigid power suits at work (if they're competent), but who wants one in bed (even if he/she is competent)?

I'll be the first to admit that I'm totally guilty. Because of the field in which I work, because of my upbringing, because of my previous relationships, because of a whole batch of excuses, I want to be so self-sufficient such that others won't worry about me. Over time, this kind of sentiment has become an avoidance of emotions such as pain, love, and guilt. Months ago, I would've said that I shouldn't have to change and that, if someone loves me, then they must realize how I actually feel, why I act the way that I do. Such belief is immature and selfish. Why should the other person have such unwavering faith and take such risks? If the reasoning is that we've been more misunderstood, hurt, burdened, etc., then we are no better than gold diggers; we are just "emotional gold diggers." Remember (like I often have to), relationships should be about giving and compromising, not about taking and winning. ;)

Snow Fall and Valentine's Day

I'm sure that you all expect me to compose some sarcastically witty rant regarding the looming Valentine's Day, such as how it's a holiday for companies to prey upon naive romantics or how sappy lovebirds are merely in a constant state of self-delusion. Well, sorry to disappoint. This is _not_ one of those. :P

First, an aside: Listening to peppy dance pop on my iPod, I walked around Cambridge this past weekend in the midst of subzero wind chill and the random snow "dumpings," as I like to call it. (Imagine someone in the sky sporadically emptying huge trash barrels of snow. That's how it snowed this weekend.) I realized why I decided to stay in Cambridge. Strange, I know. So, the truth: As a tiny girl (in poofy dresses.... Don't Ask.) growing up in Taiwan, I loved Hans Christian Anderson fairy tales; I always tried to imagine how brick roads and buildings would look when covered in snow. When we relocated back to the US, we moved to the suburbs of Cleveland, nested in the middle of the snow belt. Snow was more than abundant. Too abundant, perhaps. All the cookie cutter houses seemed to be almost collapsing under the weight of the packed snow. That kind of snow was neither pleasant nor serene. Cambridge, however, have these perfect snow dustings and these perfect little brick houses and roads against this perfect lavender night. Such quaint storybook scenes make me embarrassingly satisfied.

So, anyway, during my walk, I noticed a lot of undergrads doing the usual pseudo-last-minute gift shopping. When the thought of "Aw, they're so cute. They still believe in the value of these grandiose romantic gestures." (in Chinese, of course) flitted through my head, I felt incredibly jaded. However, it's not true that I believe Valentine's Day to be retarded and useless. To say so would not only be lying and condescending but would also suggest that I'm bitter, which I'm not. While it is true that I'm basically only familiar with horrifying Valentine's Day "experiences" which has led to my associating the day with trauma or pending doom, I do think that Valentine's Day is good for modern people. Being so over-committed and ambitious, we're constantly checking e-mail, juggling schedules, scrambling at work, rushing to places, etc. This "holiday" reminds us to make time to show people for whom we care that we do care. Not with chocolates and flowers and reservations and cliche gestures, but simply via a intimate look and a couple of sincere words.

The "H-Bomb" for Girls

I've always wondered why Americans consider intelligence, especially in women, to be as much a turn-off as leprosy. It's a common joke among friends that, for guys, dropping the H-bomb (i.e. admitting Hah-vahd affiliation) will almost always change a girl's attitude from utter disinterest to excessive fawning. Unless of course she has her own H-bomb to drop. On the other hand, for girls, dropping the H-bomb usually serves as the perfect repellent for the "god's gift to women" who just won't take the not-so-subtle hints. Seriously.

We all know the stereotype that smart girls are (a) crazy, (b) frigid, (c) unattractive, or (d) any combination of the above. To some extent, all of those descriptions are true. We do have the tendency to be too focused on work and too demanding of success that we just can't let a relationship not work, view our ambitions to be more important than relationships, or obsess about maintaining a professionally respectable image. However, to be frank, it's not as if other girls don't have issues of greater concern. So, why the aversion?

The issue comes down to intelligence. As of late, a greater number of women are attending college as well as graduate schools, entering previously heavily male-dominated fields, and becoming the focus of social spotlights. There are now women who, because of their competence, are confident and unafraid to challenge those around them, male or female. Society has yet to truly adapt to this phenomenon. On the surface, all educated men will claim to view women as equals. In relationships, however, most guys still prefer to be in control, to be the one "wearing the pants." When their girlfriends are more successful, frustration (whether conscious or otherwise) often festers and leads to the guys’ behaving in conventionally asshole-like manners to assert their masculinity. From personal observation, this can start with cheating (often with much less intelligent girls) and escalate to sociopathic emotional torment and even physical abuse. The goal is to chip away at a girl's confidence until she questions her own self-worth, until she becomes manageably submissive. Now, after such experiences, why wouldn't a girl be paranoid, jaded, emotionally guarded, and starving for affection? Can you blame her for her “craziness” or “frigidity”?

I think the most important lesson for girls here is that we should be aware of guys' sensitivities, whether they admit to such vulnerabilities or not. I am most definitely not suggesting that we hide our abilities or pretend to be less than we are, but we should perhaps be more aware of when we may be unconsciously "flaunting" our successes. Men have fragile egos.

At the same time, guys, your girlfriend's being more "competent" doesn't mean that you're less of a man. In fact, being able to be proud of her would only demonstrate your security and confidence, which only serves to establish you as more of a man and to increase your hotness factor. Also, you know, if we are committed to you, then you're clearly the best in our eyes, and, since we’re brilliant, we obviously know what we’re talking about. :P