things I want to do before I die
If I had to think about the trajectory of my life and where it is headed, all I can think about is the trauma and pain that my life has caused me. I don't want to relish these negative thoughts anymore. I don't want to feel this pain anymore.
I often have these questions fluttering in my head before I hear news about my roommate passing away or find out that my sister is the one who is in critical mental health. I've always thought in my life that everything that happened to me was deserving. Maybe it was because of my low self-esteem, maybe it was because of how much emotion I felt, maybe it was because of my unwillingness to change.
I don't know how to think, or speak, or in fact feel anymore. When my roommate, who wasn't in New York anymore, passed away, I had no feeling whatsoever. All I could think about was: I wonder how he left? Was he at peace? Not things like "OH MY GOD, he's gone!"
This is the first time I had come to terms with my own emotions. Do my sleep-deprived nights help me get over this hump in my life, or has my life been filled with so many humps that I began to normalize my pain? If you still don't understand, I have an analogy. Yes, I did state that it was an analogy. Eat my ass.
Homeless people vs. New York City residents. Dehumanizing? Yes. In whose eyes? The homeless people's. Maybe it is just the structure that society placed on us. Maybe it's what capitalism does to us. It creates the homeless and then leaves us with all its problems. Maybe it's rooted in all the racism and historical structures that are set in place, but let's not digress and continue with the analogy.
Dehumanizing. What does that mean? To me, it means feeling less than human. Something I accepted all my life. Something I wish I didn't have. Something that traps me in my own world.
It's like I'm the kid in a permanent cast, looking outside and seeing everyone else enjoy their livelihoods while I'm stuck with myself. I think what is scarier is the fact that I just accepted the normality of pain so much to the point that it's dehumanizing, and I can't even feel it.
The last time I ever felt something that real and that traumatic was my great-grandmother's death. I loved her and I don't even remember why. How old was I? Like 12 or something. Probably middle school. It happened all so suddenly.
It hurt me the most when my dad was crying. One of the only times I have seen my dad cry. I was also angry at my great-grandmother for not being able to keep her promise. When we had a video chat, she promised me that she would see me again before she passed away. She never did.
I remember I had a clarinet in my hand and I couldn't even look at the clarinet anymore. I hated the clarinet. Maybe that is why I started to give up on the clarinet. The instrument and sound that I loved, but because of its association with my grandmother, I couldn't practice it, no matter how hard I tried.
Music in my life didn't start with the clarinet, but the clarinet had so much of an impact on me. Playing the instrument did make me happy at times, if I could even remember what that feels like anymore.
I also associate the clarinet with my father's face when I played at a judging center. OK, it wasn't necessarily a judging center, but it was a place where all the music students would go to get tested. Sight-reading was my worst aspect of playing the clarinet. It was reading the music on the sheet and playing it with my instrument.
I remember after my solo and sight-reading test, I came out of the test, looked at my dad's disappointed face, and vowed to never touch the clarinet again. Probably cried a couple of times on my way home.
I honestly don't know why I sought his approval constantly. Maybe it was because all my life I felt like a disappointment. I don't hate my dad but that face scares me. The disappointed face. I feel like sometimes I live my life just so I could impress my parents but give up before I try anything because I can't live up to their expectations. Their expectations being something I had fabricated in my head. I don't know why I am so wired this way.
I think it's so funny that I didn't even get to the things I want to do before I die. I feel like we have to review what death is. Some may say it's the last breath you take. Like no shit, of course it's the last breath you take, because when you are dead, you are gone. There is no second chance, there is no seeing that person or yourself anymore, and it happens all the time. If it happens all the time then why are people so scared of it? Why don't we try to figure out what the purpose of life is anyway?
I couldn't answer these things for you. Right now I'm in a state of complacency. I don't like what I do but I don't hate what I do. I honestly don't even give a shit about my job, except my time when I work with the children there. Why haven't I switched jobs yet? Probably because I hate change and I'm scared of it.
Recently I was told by a close friend, more like a close person, not necessarily a friend, someone who I think of as a close something (don't know how to describe it) that I am probably living just to get by. Living just for the sake of living and living by hating change. So complacency and consistency is comfortable to me. I feel like I have known this but I didn't know until she told me.
It's almost like an addiction. You know you have it but in a way you won't admit it because maybe the addiction makes you feel even shittier than what you feel right now. Deny the addiction. Maybe my addiction is to complacency and consistency because I never felt that in my life. Everything always tends to be fucked up or broken or shit. Maybe it's because I saw my parents be complacent with what they have right now. Who knows?
First thing I want to do before I die is to figure out what kind of mental or personality disorder I have. I feel like I am normal but at the same time I feel like I am not normal.
I know that no one in this world is special. To feel special as a way to validate yourself in this world is so sad to me. I often do it from time to time but I know that nothing is going to change if I don't change myself. I know that, but how many times have I actually acted upon it?
Like why do I lower myself so much to the point where I think it's ok for everyone to be over me? Like a doormat or a pushover? Every fucking time I stand there, even if I am supposed to get angry, I stand there like an idiot being shoved over but I end up saying, don't worry or it's okay. Maybe it's not fucking ok.
I have been taught to keep my opinions to myself. I was taught that my opinions don't even matter anyways. I have been told that I was just quiet and boring. FUCK YOU. I am not quiet and boring. I just get mentally drained from all the people watching and people depending on me.
Why can't I just break out of this nightmare and live for myself? Why do I have to care so much about people? Why do I blow up all these frustrations on my loved ones and cause myself deeper pain that makes me borderline psychotic?
When I complain and spiral like this over and over and over and over and over again, I never feel good. I always feel like shit. I feel like people are looking at me as if I had committed a crime, when in fact nobody fucking cares. But I always feel like all eyes are on me.
Why are you so chill Kevin? Why are you so quiet and nice? Because I can't get myself to share my opinion. Because I am so stuck in my past trauma and current trauma that I learned to cope by ignoring everything. Because I feel too much and because that led me to think that feeling emotions is a curse.
It's like the time I was in high school or in college. When I cried for days and cried for help and help never came because I was just crying at the wall. Not actively seeking help. Not actively searching for community. Not letting those that I love know about my problems and issues.
And even when I broke down and shared with them. And even when I found a chance to breathe again. I pushed myself back into that hole. Tried to find different ways to cope and run away instead of facing the problem. Tried to turn to cigs or weed or alcohol or food or exercise or TV binging or crying or starving or melatonin or Xanax or dying or anything but being myself and facing my own fears.
I keep pushing myself to think that it's ok not to be happy now. I will be happier in the future, everything will be better in the future. Maybe I'll still be complacent in the future. Maybe this, maybe that.
Thinking that stressed me so much that I stopped worrying about my physical and mental state and my future in general. I don't think I wish anymore. Last time I wished for something was when I was a young kid and I wanted to be a singer because of my appreciation of music.
Now I don't even want to make music anymore. I did it a lot in college when I was down and in my feelings, but I feel like writing is more important to me than music. Music can only capture so much of what I'm feeling in words.
When I started making music, I made it to deal with my stressors and feelings. To sort out the really grimy feelings and to understand why I was in so much pain. After a while, making music started to become a chore for me.
I made an album for my girlfriend which I poured my heart and soul into. Making those songs gave me joy, something I never experienced in music until I made that album for her. But after a while I stopped making it. When I tried to pick it up again I was always trying to one-up my last album and my last song. I kept making excuses that I didn't have time or I was too tired when the truth was I was tired of it. It took way too much energy to maintain.
Now I just prefer writing. I don't have to hold back and I can be as real as I want. I can just list down anything I want without thinking about things being grammatically correct or things being read in a certain way. It feels more special to me.