I have not been blogging for two and a half months now. If you ask me, the reason I will tell you is because I have ran out of things to talk about. However that is a lie. I never run out of things to say, let alone write. The actual reason was because I have stopped believing in my own ability to craft something worth reading. I started this blog with the intention of touching people's lives with words, just as those who did with mine. As university and slight depression got in the way, I began feeling useless and unmotivated to do anything. I would open a new blog post, get ready to type away but find myself stopping three sentences later. Then I gave up. But for the sake of not giving up, I will try to come up with something worthy of your time now.
Recently, I had a brief meltdown regarding my life choices. I burst into tears one night for no reason or for all the reasons even I don't understand. It didn't help that I had Beyonce's old albums playing in the background. But it dawned on me that maybe writing is not meant for me. I mean I have always enjoyed writing as a hobby but it was starting to feel like one of those things that no matter how hard I try, it just was not working out. What used to be enjoyable was stirring unnecessary anxiety and self-doubt within me. I could stare at a blank page for hours and with every sentence I write, I erase. To add fuel to the fire, my social life was going downhill as well. I seemed to have lost all my self-confidence and become increasingly self-conscious too, which is very unlike me. I guess it was due to culture shock and the pessimistic attitude that came along with it. Maybe I was having a hard time adjusting to my new 'normal'. I don't really know. I was just very unhappy with the way my life turned out at that very moment. I tried re-evaluating my purpose in this course and what I was hoping to achieve after this but I found myself with no answer at all. And so like any other emotional teenage girl, I cried and cried. The next morning I woke up to a puffy-eyed figure staring back at me in the mirror and could not recognise her at all. I felt utterly hopeless and like a failure of some sorts.
Given my strict upbringing and personal values, disappointment and failure are both very difficult for me to accept. I guess what made me cry the most was the fact that I have managed to let myself down. When I moved here, I told myself that I had to have a good time, that I cannot waste another minute being unhappy and ungrateful, that I must see this new life as an adventure instead of a burden. I have disappointed myself and that, to me, was one big failure. Maybe I set too high expectations and that is why disappointment hurts but in my defence, I don't see the problem with having expectations. Personally, I would rather cry over disappointment than to sit around all day aimless.
Almost everyday I question myself if this is all worth it, and the thought of me not living my dream life disappoints me greatly which is why I try my best to make sure things go according to plan. I guess my main problem is that I seek to control everything, especially my future. Won't life be a lot easier if we were all given a map that directed us in the right direction? Because I certainly would like to know if I am doing something correctly. But I've learnt that there are some things that I have to let go. I adopted the belief that above all else hard work is the only thing that matters in life. While it may be true to an extent, sometimes luck and hard work go hand-in-hand. You have to be at the right place and the right time for the right things to happen to you, even if it means making the wrong decisions beforehand. Victoria Beckham once said, "Free will leads you to your destiny." As much as I wholeheartedly agree, it does makes me wonder of the possibilities of a different destiny, maybe one that I can control. The obvious answer is to change what you do and walk the path that leads you to the destiny you want. My goals in life are clear, but the problem is that my path is still blurry. One wrong step can take me to an entirely different destination and that is what I'm most afraid of. It was probably the main reason I cried so hard that night. Because I don't want to end up at the wrong destination, because I don't want to live a life I come to hate, and I no longer want to be unhappy every single moment of my life. I want to end up exactly where I pictured myself when I was five and I want to love the job I have and most importantly, be passionate about living it to the fullest.
See, there it is. The need to control everything.
Thankfully, I read a piece of advice recently and it said that it's never too late to start again. Funny how such simple advice can pretty much solve all my problems. Perhaps the majority of us see new beginnings as something of a waste of time. To backtrack and start again? No thank you. To walk on another path with failure lingering at the back of your mind and still keep going? How many of us could actually do that? Starting again means taking a leap of faith, and wandering into unknown territories. The thought of that is scary but then again, anything that is beyond our control will always seem scary. And I guess that is what we are all trying to avoid, starting again. We don't want to see our efforts amount to nothing, but if it does, it's okay to turn over a new leaf and try something else. To do that takes strength and courage. I guess I must have forgotten that along the way and stopped believing in my own hard work.
And even if you're standing on the wrong path, so what? Mistakes can lead you to even better things that you never could have imagined. And if it doesn't, pick yourself up and try again. You can always try again. No one will punish you for trying too many times. In fact, it is when you don't try that you will never forgive yourself for.
With love,
Kimmy x
