The volcanic rumble

I’ve been done with everything since the start of this semester - and I don’t know what I’m relying on to survive the remaining weeks. Neither have I taken any energy drinks nor have I taken anything I shouldn't. Maybe it’s just me burying deep into an emergency tank that I never knew I had. Maybe once that has been depleted, I’ll let everything go and hide myself from the world. Take an x number of weeks off social media and hibernate in a place where no one can find me. Just as and when I thought that the most stressful time was over, little did I know that the second part of it would knock on my door. But it’s fine. I foresaw that I’d be dead from the academic stress in the final semester. I just have to endure a couple more weeks and there would be one less thing for me to lose sleep over.

"What did you just say?"

I initially thought that when I’m as busy as a bee with the assignments and volunteering activities, it’d take my mind off those things. The opposite occurred; most nights are spent thinking about how much I dislike humanity and people’s ever-changing masks to suit their circumstances. Nobody would truthfully help others, that’s something I’ve noticed lately. It’s a dog-eat-dog world where the strongest and sneakiest would emerge as the sole survivor. I know it sounds harsh, but let’s face it. Most things in life come at a price - and it’s up to an individual to decide if it is worth the sacrifice.

Another thing that has stood out was my irritability. I’ve always been on the extreme side and suffered from intense mood swings since college, but it’s getting really bad nowadays. A friend decided to throw me under the bus with a fictional situation a couple of days ago, which usually doesn’t affect me whatsoever because it doesn’t carry any weight. I know it was said in jest, but I couldn’t help but be annoyed over it. My sister knows that whenever I answer with a slow, emphasized ‘what did you just say?’,  I’m expressing my displeasure … or about to lose my cool, depending on the context of the conversation. Maybe it was extremely subtle to the point where he didn’t notice that my blood boiled, but there was an edge to my voice after I sought clarification from the tutor on a certain topic. My friend playfully whinged that my action stopped him and my sister from leaving. I don’t know if he meant it or not, but I replied that the two of them were more than welcome to have waited for me in the hallway instead. It sounded alright in my mind, but it came out sassier than I wanted. If something as petty as that almost made me lose my temper in front of everyone, it’s absolutely certain that I’m more irritable now - especially when someone makes a monkey out of me at my expense.

It’s ironic that I crave for the stress but crash under the weight of it. I never expected that I’ll bite off more than I could chew. This is best illustrated by one of the recent oral presentations that I did for the course. Unlike the ones that I have done throughout my studies, this was slightly different because it involved the collaboration of an entire class. Not all of us were comfortable with the idea because of the possibility of personality clashes - yet it had to be done. It was compulsory anyway. I absolutely have no idea why I volunteered myself to be one of the presenters (even though I no longer have the confidence to speak in front of my peers, no matter how much time I’ve had to prepare for it). Having the paper rest on my thigh was uncomfortable because I had to shoot glances at it and ensure that I wasn’t lost, but my hand shook as bad as an aftershock when I held the paper.

I’m easily exhausted nowadays; if it’s not physical, it’s mental. It’s sometimes both - and that’s when it gets too much for me to cope. My immune system must’ve taken a beating from all of the stress and suppressed emotions that it has decided to fight back in ways i don’t appreciate.

"Life abroad isn’t as glorious as everyone makes it out to be."

I had a Skype session with a childhood friend ages ago - or rather some time during the spring break after years of not maintaining frequent contact with each other. We’ve only kept tabs via Instagram. At one moment in time, we were both international students albeit in two different countries, so we understood each other’s pain and angst about it. The above quote was actually shared by her - she concurs that although the grass is greener on the other side, it’s only the lucky ones who experience the positive aspects of it.

She found it hard to believe that after spending many years abroad, I’ve made the conscious decision to come home. Yet, in exchange, I’m throwing big dreams of mine into the sea and a shattered viewpoint on life and people. Most of us who have gone overseas for our tertiary education have unwillingly returned either because of family commitments or work-related commitments. It’s not that I’m exhausted from being a vagabond. It’s because I need a familiar place, a place where I can lay all of my cards down in peace and lick my wounds. Mr. YY mentioned before that I’ll be as bright as the sun once I’m abroad, but all that has surrounded me in the comforting arm of darkness. The line that divides light from dark has blurred now. Without the self-control, those feelings would leak onto my face and incur further questions from those around me. I understand their concern, but I don’t know whether it is done of a genuine or a fake concern. The world is like a shark pond; you don’t know who you are dealing with. I wouldn’t reach out to people for help yet when they ask if I’m coping, I’ll lie through my teeth that life is peachy (even though I want a hug or a shoulder to cry on). My struggles are for me to bear alone and I won’t burden anyone.

“Don’t call me heartless when you made me this way.”

I know people are waiting to catch up with me yet my heart has turned cold towards them, especially after everything that has happened. I’m finding it ironic that those who chose to ignore you when you need them most would be the ones who would be running towards you with open arms. But at least once I’m done, I’m done. I can close the chapter on my bittersweet four year journey. To say that I want to turn the time back would mean not meeting that handful of friends. I just wish that it wasn’t at the expense of my optimism and confidence.

As this is written by my zombified version at 2 am, there may be parts where it won't make sense, but I hope it has enough content to alleviate any form of confusion.