(a)lone(ly)

In the past 2 years, 3 months and 4 days I have learned a lot about what it means to be alone and what it means to be lonely. Everybody feels loneliness at some point in their life. I did too, way before we packed up and left home. But I never understood the difference. I used to always say that I was feeling lonely when really, I was just alone. 

For the past 2 years, 3 months and 4 days, I've been both. I've been alone and lonely. To me, to be alone is to be physically alone. To be lonely is to feel that big, empty, gaping hole in your soul and not knowing what exactly would fill it. I've been at both. I'm very often still at both. Today is one of those days. 

I wish things like these would just have expiry dates. People would think that it's been such a long time since I've moved that I would have settled down as they'd imagine. But I frequently wonder why they think it's so surprising that I haven't. 

I feel like a stranger in my own world today. 

Aug 5th - Midnight Musings

Song of choice for the night : Chariot by Jacob Lee

Spotify Playlist of choice : Chill-ish

...

Here's my battle of the week(or, battle of the millennium I should say). Have you ever had something that you know is bullshit but believe it anyway? Have you ever did something that you know you shouldn't do, but do it anyway? What about the thing that you know you're way above, but still stoop so low for it anyway? Yes? That's me and overthinking. I feel like my brain believes that I do not deserve a shred of happiness. My overthinking is always trying to ruin a good thing with the bad things. And I'm so done with it. I constantly feel like I'm at war with myself. I'm always trying to realign my thoughts and separating what I know is true and what I know is full of crap. 

I really want to be what my name means. "Zoe" means life. And I feel like I haven't been life in a very long while. I feel like I am constantly fighting for this thing people call happiness. I feel like the one who's stopping me from really being happy is me. And it's infuriating when I can't tell my head to shut it. It's infuriating that I can't have free time because my brain decides that it's happy hour to go on a overthinking marathon. It's so frustrating that I have to constantly tell myself to stop believing the lies that my brain is constantly feeding me. I often feel like I am going to combust and burst into flames because of how much of these thoughts that I cannot take. 

The hardest part lately is that I feel like I'm looking at this happen from a glass window. I used to believe my thoughts. I used to blindly and blatantly accept that my unnecessary thoughts are true.  But now, I feel like I've grown to the point where I can easily call bullshit on my thoughts. The hardest part is seeing myself succumb to them. It's like watching myself fall into a deep dark hole in a glassed box. I see it all happen right before my eyes. I see through the lies, I see through it all. But I also see myself falling deeper and deeper into it. 

I know that it gets harder before it gets easier. And I'm glad that I'm able to differentiate my thoughts between what I know is true and what I know is a bag of lies. I'm thankful that I've grown and gotten to the point where I want to snap out of it, to do something about it. I'm grateful that I am no longer at that point where I let it consume me without a fight. I fight it, I try my damn hardest to not let it get to me. The most heartbreaking thing is that most of the times, it still gets to me. 

I yearn to be strong. I yearn to be full of life, full of light. I want to be known for my smiles and not for my frowns. I want to have a few bad days amongst great days and not good days amongst bad days. I want to not be full of worry. I want to be full of life. I want to be able to live up to my name. I want to be filled with kindness and compassion. I want to be filled with comfort and joy and the peace that surpasses all understanding. I long for the day when I will be able to say that my worries don't trouble me. I long for the days when I don't have to explain why I'm sad, worried or overwhelmed for no reason. I long for the days when I do not have to rant about my overthinking on my blog because it's too stupid of a deal to say it out loud. It sounds stupid when I put it in context. It sounds so foolish when I say it out loud. It sounds ridiculous when I am the reason for my lack of joy. 

I know that to be human is to feel all these emotions. But I want to be the human that feels the great emotions more often than I feel the dark ones. It's tiring. It's emotionally and mentally draining. Not only for me, but also for the ones around me. And I don't want to be that person who walks around with dark cloud hovering over me. It's too much. I can't do this thing called living if I keep getting weighed down by insignificant thoughts. I just don't know what to do with myself. I really don't.

Overthinking.

Have you ever had that moment in time when you realize that the things that you call yours aren't really yours to begin with? I've been having a few of those moments these few days. In someways, it makes me hold on to somethings tighter and in other ways, it makes me worry less about the things that aren't going the way I expected. 

I would call myself a very meticulous person. I also really like it when things go according to plan, I like it when I know things so that I don't worry so much. Obviously, life doesn't work that way. Life is unexpected. Life is spontaneous. Life is full of surprises at every corner, good and bad. Because of that, I find it really hard to "be alive" sometimes. Not in the suicidal way, more of the life-gets-really-tiring-sometimes way. Actually, almost all the time. 

I battle with myself a lot. Lately, it's been a battle of shutting my mind off and stopping all unnecessary over thinking. Usually, I let it consume me and suffocate me because all I do is think and keep those thoughts to myself. I'm really trying my best to not let my thoughts consume me all the time. Ironically, the more I try to pray, commit it to God and talk myself out of my unnecessary thoughts, the harder it gets. It doesn't mean that it's not working though, I believe that it's because it is that's why it's getting harder and harder.

I honestly do not know when and how I developed this tendency to worry and think so much. I'd like to say that I was a carefree child who had a really bright and sunny childhood. But now that I think back on it, I realize how much I kept to myself and how much I worried as a kid. That's just daunting. Let's just say that I have been an overthinker for 19 years. Let's just put it that way. I'd say overthinking is my guilty pleasure. It's something that isn't good for me, but yet I do it anyway. I don't know why I do it, but I do it anyway. And it drives me insane. Sometimes it feels like it eats bits and pieces of me from the inside out. It exhausts me emotionally, it drives me insane. It makes me feel things that I don't want to feel: doubt, disappointment, sadness and sometimes even anger. 

Overthinking is also one of those things where I don't talk to people about. It's one of those things that seems HUGE to me and the moment I start putting them in words, I realise exactly how stupid it is. But yet, I constantly feel like I'm David battling Goliath. The great thing is, David did defeat Goliath. The hardest part for me is, I feel like I'm David battling Goliath a few times a day. Overthinking is like a broken record that keeps playing over and over again even though I know that I've been through this and there is absolutely nothing wrong. 

Overthinking things makes me feel so foolish and weak because I'm the one thing that's causing me to feel defeated. It makes me feel like I'm crippled. Like how I have to take time out of my day to just breathe and recollect myself just because my brain decides that it has things to worry about. It's also my battle. Unfortunately, nobody else can win this for me. Nobody can snap their fingers and make it all better. Not even I can snap my fingers and make it all better. I can try my hardest to do my best to make it all better. Not all days are like this anymore. It's been getting better and I feel very thankful that it is. But I guess tonight is just one of those nights where I feel defeated. It's one of those nights where I've let it get to me, yet again. It's one of those nights where I want to be alone to sulk about the things that I shouldn't even be sulking about. It's one of those nights where I feel like my world is crumbling at my feet and I can do nothing but watch. It's one of those nights where I just want to lie down in exhaustion, hoping to find rest, but not being able to get any. It's the night where I let my thoughts consume me so that I can sort them out and tell myself yet again how stupid all this is. 

I let them suffocate me tonight so that when I wake up tomorrow, I get to breathe and the brightness of this summer sun will ensure that my little dark cloud that follows me around everywhere will not be there in the morning. 

I'm my biggest enemy.

Yes, it's been awhile. But I guess I had to write this down after having this thought earlier today. This week has been a roller coaster. Of really really good days mixed in with a little bit of bad. Then today, I realized that I'm my biggest enemy. I'm my biggest bully. But I'm also my biggest victim. Has anyone else realized that? 

Here's what I mean by "I'm my biggest bully". I'm the first to discourage myself. I'm the first to convince myself that things are really bad. I'm the first to say "you're ugly" when I check my appearance before leaving the room. I'm the first to say "you can't do it" when I'm facing an obstacle. I'm always the one to convince myself that I have hit rock bottom. I'm the one to tell me that I'm lonely and I'm worthless. I'm the one who says that I'm not qualified and that I'm not good enough. I'm the one that does not allow myself to enjoy the little things in life. I am the one who convinces myself that I do not deserve happiness. I'm the one who's stealing my own happiness. 

To be extremely honest, I should be the one encouraging myself. I should be the first to say that things aren't bad, they are bearable. Because from the outside looking in, someone would say that I can do it. They'll say that I'm beautiful and they'll tell me that I'm strong enough. They'll say that I'm not lonely and that I'm worthy. They'll say that I'm more than good enough and more than qualified. They'll be the one providing the joy in the little things, and they'll also be the ones who contributes to the happiness that I deny myself. 

It's so weird that someone from the outside looking in has a better view of the bigger picture than I do. I wonder why people do this to themselves. I wonder why we're always the first to drag ourselves down and the last to pull ourselves up. I'd say that I've grown a lot emotionally from where I was two years ago in the Pre-USA Zoe era. Pre-USA Zoe would not have realized this. I know how easy it is to stay down. But it's so tiring. It's so tiring to stay down all the time. And it's an uphill battle every single day. 

It's heartbreaking how much I bully myself every single day. But this is not me. The loneliness, the depressed and the pessimistic mindset are things that has stuck to me as I grew up. The sad, heavy hearted, confused, conflicted person is not who I am, it's really just the things/habits that I have accumulated along the way. I feel like I need to start prying them off me. I'm too busy suffocating myself with my thoughts to the point where I can't breathe.

I don't know why people do this to themselves. I don't know why I do this to myself. It's exhausting. 

Life Update

A friend of mine reminded me of this place a few nights ago and I realized that I haven't been writing for a very long time now. I stopped writing because I just didn't want to keep being so negative all the time. But honestly, I feel like 21 year old me will appreciate how far she's gone from the current 18 year old me. 

Honestly, it's been 2 years and 11 days since we've moved here. While I feel like I'm in a better place than I was on the day I moved here and the days after that of loneliness and emptiness, I won't say that I'm in the best place of my life either. I'm not okay. I'm constantly not okay because everybody is moving on and everyone that I once knew is somebody different now. I too, am different. I'm afraid of change. I'm afraid of growing up and I'm afraid of saying it out loud because it's going to mean that I'm acknowledging them. 

I'm upset that I'm constantly needing people more than they'll need me. I'm so frustrated because this whole move is not what people said it would be. I'm devastated that while I anticipated everything that accompanied me with this trip, I did not anticipate the loneliness that would come with it. Honestly, I did not see it coming. Like an idiot, I did not expect it, I did not prepare for it and it came hitting me like a big yellow school bus. I'm not one to have a lot of friends but even then, I did not expect the ones that I had to fall apart. I did not expect the people who held my world together be the people who only watched and spoke from far away as my world slowly crumbled at my feet. And the hardest part is that it's not their fault. 

The hardest part of any situation is when there's nobody to blame. I'm constantly breaking apart on the inside and lying because I don't know what to do about it. People say that time fixes things. You don't heal from it, time doesn't help. I'd say time makes it worse. Time is just a record of exactly how long it's been since I got yanked out of home. Time just keeps an accurate number of how many days and nights I've spent yearning for a "better life" that everybody claimed that I would get. Time doesn't heal. Time doesn't make it better. Time makes it worse. Time makes it unbearable. Time makes it real. 

It's been two years. It's been two years since I've been utterly lonely. It's been two years since everybody has moved on but me. It's been two excruciatingly painful years because it's not what everyone assured me that it would be. This is not an adventure. This is excruciating pain. This is a big huge gaping wound that's still expanding its perimeters to make sure that one day, all that's left is a shell of the person that I used to be. I can't do this. 

So if you ask me how my 2 years has been here in the US, I'd say that I wouldn't wish loneliness on anybody. There are good days and there are bad days. While some days feel better than others, there's still an underlying shadow that follows me around reminding me of my circumstances. Loneliness is not enough of a big thing to warrant a complain because I can still function like a normal human being. I'm also afraid to feel happy sometimes because it feels like it's going to be yanked away again and I can't bear this kind of emptiness again. 

To You, You, You and You Too.

Dear you,

I don't know why I'm upset, but I guess it's best to be truthful. I have not been in the best place lately. In fact, I feel like I've been one of the worst possible versions of myself, masked with what seems to be normal. It upsets me that because of the distance and because I hardly have any friends here that I do not have anyone around. Nobody physically around. Yet, emotionally, it doesn't seem like anybody's around either. It upsets me every time I get issued an assignment that I need a helping hand with, I have nobody I really trust enough around to help. It demotivates me when I realize that I do not belong anywhere. Home isn't home anymore and right now, where I am makes me feel a stranger in my own skin. 

I find it so ironic how right now I have so much freedom. I'm independent enough to drive, I can easily go out. But freedom is nothing if you have nobody to share it with. Happiness is nothing if you have no one to share it with. And that's where I'm at. Where the only friends I have exist over a 5 inch screen. And yet, I don't know what goes on in their lives. I go to sleep when they wake up and they go to sleep when I wake up. I know it sounds like I'm moaning about life. Indeed I am. Moving to the US has taught me one thing more than others. Living in the US has taught me how to fake myself. Fake it till you make it. People see what they want to see. People hear what they want to hear. 

People back home is so adamant that moving to the US and living here is a dream. To them, they believe that a change of scenery somehow turns my life into a fairy tale. They tell me, "how bad can it be?" Well let me tell you, I am miserable. I am. If moving to the US is such a dream then tell me why I feel so empty. Tell me why I feel like I have nobody. Tell me why I can't make friends. Tell me why I feel like I don't belong and tell me why I have to tell the people who asks how I am without really wanting to know how I am doing that I am fine. Tell me why I feel lonely. Tell me why I feel like a stranger in my own skin. Tell me why I'm not getting more of what life has to offer. Tell me why. 

Moving to the US has made me such a bitter person. It's been almost 2 years and I've never felt so lonely in my life. I'm in a far worst place than I can care to admit. I'm so upset and frustrated that my pride and ego refuses to moan to an actual person and let them know exactly how I feel. At the same time, there will be no right words to say. What can a person do through a 5 inch screen? What if all you need is silence and a hug? Can they do that through a 5 inch screen? They can't. 

It's been 2 years of this loneliness. 2 years of isolation. 2 years of feeling miserable. 

Beauty

The word beauty can be defined differently by different people. There will be contrasting opinions regarding beauty, but I think that beauty that comes from within will hardly ever be subjective. While a person may be stunning on the outside, if that beauty does not mirror what is on the inside, I don't believe that a person can ever be beautiful. To be beautiful is to be a person with a beautiful heart. While I know that we are all not perfect and neither am I, I have made it one of the things that I want to work on this year. 

I understand that it easier to cake on some makeup and have people deem you as "beautiful" according to the majority's definition of beauty. But at the same time, I honestly feel that is it much more important to work on beauty as a person. What I mean by that is instead of being pretty, be pretty kind or pretty confident. The list doesn't even stop there. You can be a beautiful person by being gracious and thankful and well spoken. It is also considered beauty to know your self worth and to appreciate yourself for exactly who you are. 

I feel like despite the fact that they say first impressions matter, it definitely does not mean that the people you meet will remain permanent. It means that even if someone starts a conversation with you only because of your looks, it doesn't mean that they'll stick around after they've heard you utter your first sentence. It doesn't mean that they'll stick around after they've seen you mistreat someone. You'll know a person better when you see how they treat others. Juxtaposing to that, I am not implying that every person in the world who is beautiful on the outside is a horrible person. It's just that our culture today exaggerates on beauty on the outside instead of beauty on the inside. Why not strive for both?

To strive for beauty on the inside is very crucial and I believe that while it doesn't score a lot of points on the outward beauty scale because it will never be enough, I feel like to be a beautiful person is timely, classy and sexy in a certain way. The best part of getting to know someone to me, is seeing how they carry themselves and how they treat others. Striving for beautiful qualities that makes up a beautiful person has really challenged me in knowing my self worth. It is really easy to give in to attention when it comes to physical beauty. It's really really easy to stoop so low and act really shallow so that you get the attention that you crave. However, that will never satisfy.

Attention will never be enough when you are given attention because of the wrong things. But when you know that people genuinely appreciate you for your personality and your worth, it gives a different satisfaction to you. Just imagine this : would you be more satisfied if a person said that you looked beautiful or that you are a beautiful person? Would you be more flattered if someone said that your makeup looked good or if you are kindhearted and confident?

I'm striving to be a beautiful person from the inside out and I believe that people of this day and age should be reminded that beauty does not only reflect on the outside but it shines through from the inside. I'd like to be a person that is kindhearted and confident, well spoken and knows her self worth. I want to be classy, sexy and sophisticated because I am a beautiful person from the inside out. I want to be comfortable in my own skin and that's who I will strive to be. 

Love, 

Zoe 

Not Good Enough?

Hello, everyone. It's 2016 and I'm glad to say that I finally got my driving license. So I've been learning to drive on and off for about 6 months since June of 2015. My dad's been teaching me on the weekends that he's not busy and it's been a pretty slow process, but nevertheless I made it. So I scheduled my test about three weeks ago and the only available test date was for the 19th of this month. It was funny because I woke up on Tuesday morning and it was hailing with rain. It was pretty much reported on the news as a thunderstorm. 

Anyways, I did the test and passed on the borderline. Somehow, I should feel satisfied, but I don't. I haven't exactly told anyone how I felt about it except for the fact that I passed it. I actually do feel very disappointed because I thought I could do better. I've been trying to justify myself by saying that passing on a first attempt is pretty spectacular. But it hasn't really been working. It messes with my head and makes me second guess my driving. Maybe it's just me. But yes, 4AM musings should come to a stop before I emo any further. 

Zoe.