news

bad news? good news? i dont even know how to deal with this.. and as usual, i am alone facing this.. and as usual, by choice…

~sam~

hello world… this is samantha…

“Take care of yourself sam! Take care of yourself please!”

 

That’s what I hear almost on a daily basis coming out from different people’s mouth.

 

Sometimes it really makes me wonder, am I really not taking care of myself enough? What have I been doing with all my time? What am I doing exactly? Going to the doctors scare me more then anything else.

 

Running away from almost everything and everyone, putting on a front and being the clown and joy of where ever I go. Dreading when I wake up each day, dreading to go out to meet friends, dreading to go to church, dreading to go to school, dreading to go for rehearsals, dreading to even go out for coffee.

 

Feeling so tired and drained ALL THE TIME. Especially after the end of each day. After all the clowning and entertaining. All the laughter and making sure everyone is all right.

 

I have an intense fear of clowns.  Not only cos they look freaky and scary, but also due to the fact that I feel very like a clown. So similar that it frightens me. Uncanny resemblance.

 

I dragged my body to church today, alone, tired, faithless, and soulless. Holding back tears during worship, as I raised my hands to the heavens, I saw a vision.

 

A small thin girl, with long black hair, sprawled in the corner of a dark room. With huge saucer eyes filled with hurt, sadness, pain, anger and confusion, reaching out with her trembling stick thin hands. Reaching with hands above her head. Barely able to crawl and teeth clenched, she looked at me with her piercing eyes.

 

A split second vision. I was knocked back. Knocked the breath out of me. Then I realized. That little girl was me. That was Samantha. The girl I always am and the girl I never showed. The girl I always ran away from.

 

Desperation. Lost count of the number of time my brain screamed for help throughout service today. Help…

 

~samantha~

 

How could Danielle be so perfect and Samantha be so messed up?

tired

so so tired…. =(

too short

life is too short to be upset all the time. i still ave many things undone…

~samantha~

What would you do?

I remember a few years ago, a close friend of my asked me this question.

“Sam, what are the things you will do if you know you have only X amount of time to live?”

my reply was,

“Depending on how long X is. If it is like more then 5 years, I will go backpacking the world. If between one to 4 years, I will try to complete everything I have always wanted to do. Less then half a year, I will love like I have never loved and live like I have never lived. Anything less then that, I wish to spend it just being with people I love.”

X… how longs is X gonna be this time?

Love like I have never loved! I guess I have done that already. Although it was not mutual, at least I know I do have that capacity to love that much. And by any chance I get through this, I know I can go much further then I thought.

Now it even hurts to laugh. It even hurts to shout. And it feels like I am breathing underwater if I walk just a little faster.

Never ever felt so alone when I drove home today. Damage done again. To him and more to myself. Trying to blink away tears, the temptation to just crash HARD and end it all in one big collision is so huge. Maybe it will be better then the possible slow death I will know about tomorrow.

The only time I really needed someone to be there, I came home to an empty house. Maybe it’s a good thing. Enough time for me to think. Enough time for me mourn and indulge myself in self-pity for once. And maybe for once, cry for myself.

~samantha~

growing up…

Growing up is a scary thing.

No this is not an entry stating what I wanna be when I grow up that kinda grow up.

I wanted to be a teacher or an educator when I was a kid and now I am one. So that’s out of the way. And I am on the way working towards being a full time volunteer once I get enough money and support. So that’s goals and dreams for you.

Growing up as in becoming an adult. Day by day I feel the pressure of expectations and responsibilities growing.

Responsibility is a scary word. As you grow older, the word weight heavier and heavier on your shoulders day-by-day. Once you start working and start behaving like an adult, life starts to sink. And now I am a student and an educator at the same time, it makes everything more complicated doesn’t it? And getting paid as a student just makes it all worst.

Went back to SIM to try printing my notes for lecture yesterday but was unable to. Was walking up the all so familiar stairs when I suddenly miss uni life. Life was so much simpler. So much more carefree.

And now, this is just so confusing being both an educator and student at the same time. Different from when I was a full time recruiter. This is like double identity. Responsibility as a student, an adult and as an educator. The double identity I am constantly living.

The stress of switching between a student and an educator, feeling the stress of the inability to do both well. But this is a self-made choice ever since I signed on the dotted line months ago.

Choices. We all make choices on a daily basis. Small choices like what to eat to bigger choices like life partner, career and stuff. And there are always 2 outcomes. For the good or for the bad. And after that, the choice of being reactive or proactive to the outcome. As well as the responsibility to be an adult and face the outcome whatever it might be.

Many things have happened this year and I have never made so many choices before in my life. And it takes a lot of courage, energy and strength to tell yourself that you must not regret any decision you made. Things I choose to bottle up, things I choose to share, things I choose to ignore, and things I choose to give up.

Too many people had been going in and out of my life. And only a few stayed. Never lost so many friends before. Just when I thought losing NRA was bad, I have lost no less then 100 friends this year alone. Choices. Of cos I gained many many more. But I feel like I am reducing my social circles rapidly. By choice again.

The identity crisis that comes with growing up. With adulthood. With being who you truly are. With dealing with expectations. With dealing with multiple identity. Dealing with emotions as well as people that walk in and out of your life.

Part of growing up also means having added responsibilities. Like paying for things in life. Gone are the days where you can just tell mom and dad that “hey.. I ran out of cash.. can I borrow some from you?” now is more of “here is the allowance for you, and this is for gramp and grandma.. and bills” and of cos all the “I pay for you laaa” when I go out with mom..

And who can forget my flashy car that scares many guys off? Petrol bills, parking fees, maintenance fees, carwash money and of cos, ERP.. gone are the days where you just pass mom the cash card that is maxed out. Gone are the days where you text mummy to help you get coupons. Responsibilities. Even though mom and dad offered to pay, I cant really allow that to happen. Self-expectations, aka, ego.

I was never born rich. I work part time while in poly and uni for my allowance as well as classes fee. This is something that many people don’t know and don’t believe. Which is why I always seem to have a lot of money to spend. Nahh.. not true. My parents never pampered me with anything apart from the last one-year or so. I grew up from a strict family where apart from food, everything else you have to think twice before spending. Hence, the money they gave me since primary school has always been enough for food only. Anything extra, I will have to figure out myself.

Dance classes, art classes, music classes, relationship.. everything.. everything cost money and everything is expensive. Especially relationship. Relationship is a very expensive event. And sometimes it feels as if I have made a very bad investment sometimes.

And part of growing up also means giving up dreams. Dreams that you told yourself you would die for just a few years back. I told myself I will die for dance, and I still remember the time I wanted to throw everything down in spore just to go to HongKong to be a full time dancer. Of cos who can forget the injuries that was sustained in order to make that into reality. And the final injury that killed dance forever… ballet, hip hop, jazz, contemp. All gone….

And of cos… fairy tales that have happily ever afters.. the dreams of finding a prince and living happy ever after. Of finding the one true love. The one for you. Or the rich guy that will come and sweep you off your feet riding a white spotless horse. Nahh.. did not happen. And princes are scary when they come in their SLK. I was driving today and I froze when a dark gray SLK drove beside me matching me speed. WAH KIAO!!! Scare me!

And of cos have the mentality before that as long as there is love, money is not needed. Haha. No longer… I guess I had enough of taking care of someone else, and I badly needed to be taken care of. To be the little girl. To be protected. To be cared for.

Causes and effects of everything. Choices and life.

Was watching house yesterday. Then heard this sentence. “It is the screw up that makes us interesting”. How true is that? But it is also the screw up that leads to hurt for people around us.

Was watching scrubs yesterday and heard something that that applies a lot to me.

“Life is hard enough. And there is no way in hell you are gonna survive in a dump like this unless you find a way to let your emotions out. Fact.”

Emotions. Letting out of emotions. That’s something very hard for me to do after being so strong for so long. Too strong for too long… the inability to express my emotions are killing me slowly. as I break down, I feel I am losing myself bit by bit by bit…

~samantha~

what do you go home to?

the 2 things i am afraid to come home to.

one, a dark gray SLK parked at the base of my block, and two, opening the door to an empty house.

and i bump into both today…. why me?

~samantha~

i am sorry…

One day living as Danielle

Danielle is a perfect little girl who has everything she ever wanted. At least on the surface that’s what she seems. Everyone dreams of being like her. Everyone who sees the facade she carefully puts up.

Sitting on the floor at the back of the lecture hall hiding from the lecturer, Danielle is just trying to do her essay that everyone seem to be finishing or already printed.

She is so tired, as the lecture drags on and the lecturer making silly and lame remarks. Missed her breakfast again, she feels her antibiotics biting into her stomach as gastric juices swishes around.

With her mac on her lap and earphones plug listening to k-love, she smiles away with her wary smile and tired eyes. But for some reason, her smile never reaches her eyes. Just stuck somewhere between her mouth and her nose.

All Danielle wanna do is to go home to her keyboard and guitar as well as her bed. Nose running which is a blessing for her as something around her stinks for some reason. The lack of sleep and the lack of food are getting to her again as spots started to form when she closes her eyes.

She needs the beach badly. She needs the sun, sand, sea and of cos beer. The playing dead on deck chairs and watching kids and dogs running around.

Counting down to the time lecture ends. 5 more hours. Then off to car wash, and starbucks to TRY to complete her assignment. And back home to the empty house while she crawls into bed.

That’s the life of perfect Danielle.

~samantha~

Empty shell..

Been wondering about many things. Suddenly envy those with perfect lives. Good looking, super well to do, supportive parents, great spiritual life, great relationship and love life, well loved by friends, talented and able to use their talents for the kingdom of God.

Looking at them then looking back at my life, all I can do is scoff at this empty girl with nothing more then a shell. Too tall big and ugly for any decent guys to like, fucked up spiritual life, supportive parents with “only if…”s, live in a normal HDB driving a normal car having a underpaid job, friends section is totally gray, non existing talents and not able to get into any gig, band or worship team, totally useless in the kingdom of God apart from dragging others into hell with me.

Wow! People like me should not even exist! A freak accident of God. Like you can totally imagine God up high in the heavens at the table with fluffy clouds around him, playing with a piece of clay and thinking “if I let a freak get into earth with all those wonderful creations I have made. Will this freak survive? And how many will she drag to hell with? Lets try! Let her be called Samantha lee. Beware my lovely creatures, as I unleash mini hell amidst you!!” (Cue for lighting flashes and thunder boom)

I have always thought my life as a joke. And the last 2 weeks confirmed it. My life IS a joke. Even I myself cant bear looking at myself for more then 2 seconds.

Junk..
Trash..
Rubbish…
Freak…
Hogwash…
Accident…

You name it I have it…

Juggling the many faces I have every single day. The “nothing can get me down” attitude. Letting everyone hurt me and pretending like it meant nothing to me. Crying myself to sleep every night and laughing hard in the morning during class to cover the swollen eyes.

Waiting for rescue that I know will never come. For the hero that was too busy saving someone else. For the one true love that is just a fragment of my vivid imagination. For the God, who send his only sun to die for everyone else, but me.

The only indication that I am alive is popping all the pills that I know will kill me eventually in the long run. As well as the deep red blood that run down the length of my arm slowly like melted wax. And the new addition, the deep purple blue black I have on my leg, the size of my fist. I wished it was my head that hit the corner of the concrete instead. But for some reason, I will still live since my life is a joke to be shared and entertainment for all the perfect beings in this world.

I lost count of the failed attempts at taking my own life. Just this month I have already lost count. Maybe immortality is the only gift I have.

The immense pressure I felt today as I walked into church today. Looking down trying not to spot any familiar faces. And after the service, I ran out of church. Literally ran. Too painful. Too alone. Too pure. Too good for the likes of me.

I have given up on love. All kinds of love. More of I don’t believe the existence of love anymore. At least I know it is something that will not be for me. Something that everyone else gets by default no matter how good or bad they are. I am too tired from fighting. I just wanna sink all the way to the bottom. To be the fake happy me. But I will never smile from the inside ever again.. but maybe for one last time, I will.. one last time…

~samantha~

mmm….

bad habits die hard…

but some habits are just too dangerous..

but the bottom line is, if it makes you feel better? who cares? even if it hurts a little…

but on the bright side, thats an indication that you are still alive. still breathing. although sometimes, thats the last thing you wanna feel… sometime like now… =]

~samantha~

no one understands…. trust me.. i asked..