(Firstly, i want to say sorry if you are waiting for this moment... actually, I was too stressed to write. I have plenty of work to do, and this is what i could write. In 2011, Everything Is A Reason part 2 will be published, if God is willing. Everything Is A Reason is actually a real story, and I will write it during my free time or hen assignments have been accomplished. I hope that this story will not be used for personal matters or been copyrighted by others, because what you do reflects who you are. Thank you.)
It was my kindergarten year. TV programmes are boring for bad graphics. But still, P.Ramlee’s movies are the top choices. Tell me, what old comedies are not interesting? Besides old-and-white projection, their talent is unforgettable.
That’s not the story.
It was all began when I was 4.
First incident: somewhere when Power Rangers became famous.
The 5 Power Rangers made me crazy those days. They influenced me with their heroic actions: destroying, fighting, being rude, etc. I wondered to become a black Power Ranger, with excellent superpower, strong and muscular body, and high-tech weapons.
Sometimes, I dreamt about the Power Rangers.
Maybe, it was the reason of my swollen head. One day, my cousins and I was playing outside. We jumped around on that sunny day. Well, children are unstoppable.
Then, I followed them. Suddenly, I fell down. I landed on my head. It hurts a lot. My head was swollen, my legs sprained, and I cried a lot.
It left an undisappearable mark in my head.
Second incident: around a month before I have a sister.
My mother was very sick then. I worried, and I wanted to follow her to the hospital. Went in hurry, my aunt refused to bring me along. Worse, I have to be with my dad. Sadly too, my father have to stop working that day, he have to take care of my mum.
It was the second wave of the Great Depression in Malaysia.
My hunger came. I wanted to eat something.
I opened the fridge, famished. Suddenly, that whole plate of sliced papaya fell onto my small feet. Ouch… I thought I will be scolded by my dad. So I ran to another aunt beside. I cried, a lot, to relieve that intensing pain.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Why should I feel stressed? It is enough for me: unfinished assignments, unfinished worksheets for my activities for the Academic Bureau of SRC, pending works, being scolded in class, heartbreak, argument with my roommate, argument with my family, less time to chill out…
It was a bad Friday.
It was a crap. Totally crap. I was totally down the whole day. Thought to commit suicide again, I tried to fight the ‘demon’ in me. I don’t know what happened to me…. all things are going bad right now. I tried to manage them, and I was badly trapped in the net. At least, I tried.
Thinking back of my PSPM result, I was totally terrified. Nobody knows. 3.47 are considerably very good for most of the students, but not me. I’m actually, seriously, jealous with all 207 4.00 achievers.
It haunts me a lot. I was nearly gone crazy of that. I HATE myself right now.
Let me tell you what actually happened to me.
I think that I was nearly crazy. Too much pressure is exerted on my mind. I experience hypertension, I experience stress, I experience anxiety, and I may experience depression… ouch!
2010 is the toughest year in my life. I’ve been in the National Service, I’ve been interviewed for a scholarship, and I’ve been given a lot of things in the college…
And yet, 2010 taught me to be a strong person. I’ve survived the stress, the hypertension, the depression, the sadness, the heartbreak…
But still, mishaps come and go. I still managed to overcome them, or at least just to get rid of those bad feelings. I took a jog, I talked to my friends, I do Facebook, I went out alone, I studied physics, I do chemistry, I do math, I do pray… I am willing to do almost anything just to get rid of all those feelings.
Yet, life is still enough for me to withstand. I was really near to suicide almost 130 times.
That’s when advices are totally useless. The only thing I need is comfort. Nobody wants to comfort me. Some silly reasons: “You are 18! You are a man, guy! You should know how to manage your emotions!”
Tuesday, December 22 2010
I couldn’t give my fullest attention in class. Ah, it seemed ridiculous in class. Lectures, tutorials, assignments… I repeated this for times in this story. I mentioned about it hundreds of times. Maybe it is not the main cause of my long-lasting bad feeling.
But yet, if education is not a good thing, why it is made compulsory?
Many lecturers are actually taught us the theory but we didn’t see the value within it. A good lecturer should educate, motivate and help their students. A good student, anyhow, should learn, understand, and respect their respective teachers or lecturers (I prefer them to be referred as teachers).
And there’s no doubt in this matter. It will seem great if the students can give the best in learning if they couldn’t perform well in exams. And most of the teachers and students didn’t see the point.
What actually happened to me?
Let’s back to my story. It was WH’s birthday. Surprisingly, I didn’t see her, in every inch of the college I walked. Weird to think about and she seemed to forget her own birthday, and she said, “I’m busy right now!” What a hardworking girl! WH is one of the closest members of the SRC to me.
She has a sense of care towards all of her friends and buddies, including me. I feel very grateful for being in the SRC for it has kind members, and WH is my vice-Exco.
I gave her 2 big pieces of choc, and a nice card. It’s not actually a birthday card, it’s a friendship card. I gave it special for her, and for it was also my friend Ali’s birthday, I gave him the same objects I gave WH, but differ in style. Both cards are filled with my feelings.
These are what I wrote in WH’s card (or rather, have a close meaning)
“Dear friend, honestly, you are one of the closest friends I ever had. Since I befriend you, many things have changed, and you helped me a lot to change myself. But as time goes by, and our studies are getting to the end, I feel that we won’t meet again… (How sad the tone is…Hahaha). Maybe because I’m depressed and almost committing suicide, most of my friends get away from me. Luckily, I’ve you. You are one of the most caring friends I ever have. And for that, thank you for the friendship we cherished from the first day I know you. Lastly, good luck in your life, and see you in the future.
P/s: When are you going to have lunch with me?”
These are what I wrote in Ali’s card.
“Dear Ali, even though I don’t like you for some reasons, I like you for one reason: you like to share your thoughts with me. Maybe one day you will be in the same family with me, and you wanted to buy Liverpool, so, good luck in your future.
P/s: If you going to buy Liverpool, can you buy Manchester United altogether? Later I’ll pay you back.”
Ali, as far as I remembered, is a very good guy. He never showed his burden when he was almost penniless. I was once, almost penniless, and my wallet and my bank account was empty. What are left in my locker were 1 kg of spaghetti, 3 cans of Campbell’s spaghetti gravy and one jar of Leggo’s Napolitano spaghetti sauce. Luckily I had a Coleman insulated box, so I could carry my lunch everywhere.
I remembered the moment when Ali is looking for food in the SRC’s ‘office’. Around August, during Ramadan, we have plenty of food inside. Just say it: biscuits, sweets, noodles, onions, garlic, and even chips- and I could say that the SRC was never starving, until sometime in September.
I brought the spaghetti into the office. There was starving, famishing Ali.
“Do you have anything to munch?”
I had half a kilogram of cooked spaghetti and an opened can of Campbell’s Mushroom spaghetti sauce. I shared to him. I know how starving he is when he had the spaghetti. Actually, we were both starving.
Lately, he said to me he wants to be a businessman. “Of what?” I said.
“I wanted to be a rich man. I wanted to buy Liverpool, just because I like Liverpool,” he said.