I don’t know where to start as this is just a very random blog, just an attempt of trying to understand my true self.
If I have to genuinely be honest with myself, I gotta admit that I always blow hot and cold about things. I get excited easily and get bored easily. I pick things up quickly but I give them up instantaneously as well. In one day, I could possibly go through roughly 100 emotional expressions from absolutely happy to awfully desperate. I change my mind more regular than I change my clothes. I change my own opinions of different concepts and accept them quite quickly as well (just the other fancy way of saying that I “judge a book by its cover”). Sum up, I am just an awful person! (No! No! I am not!)
I really am unaware of myself: I do not know what I am really like, I do not know what my passion is, I have zero clue about how my future would be, I do not know what I love/hate, I don’t even know what my favorite food is, if some one asks me that kind of question, I’m kind of like “I…don’t…know..?!?”. So basically I’d answer their question with a question back.
But there is one thing I do know about me is that I’d never fully trusted someone in my life as I always felt so insecure and imagine things that are not even happening (how sad is that). Alright – let’s just get back to some stories when I was a kid. I believe that the past has nothing to do with your future (as people always say) but it might somehow – in different ways – affect your psychology in the way of informing your manner. After I was born 28 days, dad went to Europe to work with the hope of bringing a better future for us. During the time he’d gone, I was a kid who got sick all the time and would cry for hours because of all the pain inside me – so to let me eat/drink, people (I used the word “people” simply because I got looked after by mom, neighbors, grandmas, aunty, aunty’s friends and of friends – the whole “circle of that community friends” hah) tried to scare me by saying thing like “if you don’t eat/drink this, a monster will come and take you away and eat you blah blah”. Trust me, I got so afraid of that! I really did. And I did build up an imaginary guy inside my mind, who would scare the shit out of me everytime they mentioned the word “monster”.
Dad came home every year, (I believe? I can’t recall the exact timing) but ironically …I always avoided him and refused to call him dad ’cause I did not know who he was and why he was in my house (not like I thought he was one of those “monsters”, I was just really scared of him). But I can still remember every single thing that I had done whenever he was around me. I could yell, scream and cry if he ever tried to touch or hug me. Every time he’s home, mom had to take me to aunt’s or grandma’s houses otherwise things would just get worse. I remember there was a night when I fell asleep and got woke up because I felt like someone’s arm around me, I opened my eyes and saw him right next to my face. I did scream the lung out of me and did not stop until mom had to grab me and brought me to grandma’s house in the middle of that night (whilst typing this, I feel like thing just happened yesterday clearly). And I only got home when dad went back to Europe…
6 years later, he returned to Viet and we moved to another city building a new life there, it was also the time when I started calling him dad. Every time when we came to visit our hometown, people always tried to tease me about how cruel I was with my dad before. I got quite fed up with that, just because I did not want them to remind me of it and did not see what so funny about it to joke about (more likely I did not want to think of myself as a freaking stubborn daughter). It went on and on for few years and stopped. No one ever talked about it anymore (they forgot perhaps?), and I didn’t even remember about that.
But when I was in secondary school, I read a local novel, and that piece of art made me cried my eyes out for hours. It was about a little girl who had to live with her grandma during Vietnam War as her mom died when she was an infant and her dad was in the army. He took some time off before the war begins again, coming back home to see his daughter but the girl refused to see him as she was unsure of who he was. All of the dad’s emotions amazingly described – from his sadness for not being called dad to the anger for not be there when she needed him – fully uncovered under the author’s words was like tighten up my heart and got me so breathless. And I could feel my tears all over my face, I had never thought about how he’d feel before. I had never put myself in his shoes to know how painful it was when his own flesh did not even want to accept him in her life. The novel continued with her grandma spent the whole night telling her about how his life in the army was, and how hard it was for him to get out of there to come back home to see her. She listened to all of that carefully but did not say any word, and left her grandma’s house on that night. The day before her dad needed to go back to the solitary, she was waiting for him outside, gave him a kiss and made him promise to come back with her after the war over. She also gave him a comb, which she spent the whole night to get it done. I cannot remember the ending but I think it was quite sad.
I thought about it a lot, I hate myself for not really being able to open up with my dad. I don’t talk to him much still, I don’t know whether it is my nature or what, but it often gets me quite upset every time I think about it. I try to start a conversation with him sometimes, but I also often end up fighting with him instead. So whenever I talk to him, my mom should be around being the middle man – makes sure nothing would happen lol. It is not as bad as how it sounds like, we are cool with each other, we are just really different and I just can’t accept that (I’m stubborn, I know that but sorry can’t help it). I’m the type of person if you tell me to do A, I would probably do B. So yea…
And during high school, there were things that happened to me as well, which made me had absolutely no trust on anyone else ( I didn’t even trust myself sometimes). And I kept carrying it on and on and on for too long, till I felt really exhausted and I got to let it out (but I did not). I was confused, I was angry, I was sad, I chose to refuse the truth, I did not want to accept the way I was. I started to read a lot of books and find the way out through music.
I did not know what made me choose to go oversea for my studying (of course, it was my parents’ influence but I did feel like there was nothing holding me back there anyway, so I just packed my stuff and left, simple like that). I would write a hundred pages of how this event has affected who I have been till now, but obviously not today.
Yeah, so back on track! Sometimes I wish I could read peoples’ minds just to know what they think and who they are – (as I’m unable to do that with myself) – whether or not I can put my trust on them. It takes me so long to trust somebody, but how insane that is when it could take only a few minutes to ruin all of that? If someone promises me something that they would do, but turns out they do not, Imma start questioning myself if I should really trust the ones who can’t even keep their promises? I get so confused why people need to make promises when they don’t even do it? Why do they need to say things which they don’t really mean it? But then there are times when I think that’s not their faults at all, the problem is that we choose to whether believe in it or not. If we didn’t put too much trust/hope on them, we wouldn’t hurt too much would we? So in the end, whose fault is that? The one who makes promise or the one who chooses to believe in it? (Crap! What am I even saying again?)
But yeah, right! I wish I could understand myself, who I want to be and what I want to do. I do not have answers for that yet (and I’m sure not any time soon either!) but I’m grateful for how far I’ve been, of course it is not where I want to be yet but at least it is not where I used to be (like I do know me but I do not know me kinda thing).