Something is Wrong With Me

It takes a quite long time for me to realize there is something wrong with me. I am sick and I need help.

People said that going to shrink will not gonna help you; they will give you anti-depressant in form of sedatives which will make you addicted. And by having Xanax in your purse is like officially stating that you are sick. So no, don’t go to psychiatric.

Plus, Psych is for people with excessive money.

I know from a quite long time that there is something wrong with me- mentally- but i just don’t know what. What went wrong. What I know is, it’s been there all the time and I have never been that brave enough to admit and deal with it.

The symptoms are actually not very obvious; you will not find it crazy thing in a bare of eyes. I am doing very good in so many achievement in life, have many close friends and have no social issue in the crowd. But let’s dig this; this might be my first honest writing in the last three years.

I (might) love my self too much.

I love taking simultaneous selfies and adored how cute I am — but then putting at least five minutes efforts to make it look even better using photo editor— even long way before “selfie” word was invented.

I clearly remember it was on my 7th grade in Junior High that girl the last time existed — that girl who cannot even smile on the camera. I used to have this strange fear to camera; i literally cried when someone took my pics. So there are very minimum amount of my pic with proper smile from my childhood. Puberty and the appearance of camera phone contributed significant change of my behavior toward camera. My first crush was a cool popular kid from school who loved to collect cute girls photos — and i don’t know how, I was one of few girls he found cute in school. So there I was, practicing my self to look good in camera when i handed my first VGA camera cell phone.

And from those moment, i realized that I look good in picture.

A sel-ca, also well known as selfie, one or two things that makes me believe in my self.

I strangely like the way photo angle could make me look great. How Adobe Photoshop could enhance your face feature. Brighten your skin, or blemishing the unwanted dark spots from your ace. And how excited I was when I bought that Lenovo VibeX whose 5MP front camera even when it was not even launched yet. The rising of those photo editor application which can add falsies, great eyebrows and cool lipstick naturally… greatest invention ever after Google.

Social media makes this worse. I have around 900 posts in Instagram and 90% of the content are literally my face and 1 minsmusic cover — which pathetically flooded by endless hashtags, for the sake of meaningless likes bomb from fake accounts and strangers from other side of the earth. Not yet counting my Soundcloud and Youtube channel — i really am blending my identity into virtual world and i am literally digitalize my self. For what?

For that digital “likes” and “love” and “follow” and “subscribe”?

Yes. It is.

I Cannot Cry Anymore

I can count how many times I cried in the past one year and it doesn’t even require two of my hands. Plus it’s already include the-cry-out-moment-due-to-movie-like-Miracle-on-Cell-Number-7.

I broke up with my last ex and i didn’t even shed a single tear — but i knew I was sad. I just could not cry it out. But what happened was I have that anxiety attack in the middle of work — i was literally out of breath until my doctor gave me Xanax for that.

Last month (when I wrote this) I finally cried in the arms of my friend— and seriously it felt so good. Finally all the armor down and I cried after months of disability in showing grief. But still, I did not cry the moment when my ex team mate leaving the company. I even did not cry when someone dumped me after taking me for benefits. I did not cry when my latest potential match were dumped me and getting back with his ex. I did not cry when my co-manager told me I was not good enough to be in the position that I want. I did not cry envy when my best friend’s perfect family act very nice to me and treat me like a family. Either it is me who being all mature, or it is just strange thing since I know — i perfectly realized that all of the above things makes me sad and I lost the control to express it.

I Do Not Dream

I cannot remember the last time I have a dream in my sleep. All I have is only regular daily alarm and feeling exhausted after wake up from sleep every day. My boyfriend keep insist that “People do dream everyday — they just don’t remember it,”.

Maybe it is true, but somehow I miss it so much. The feeling you got when you wake up, cuddling with the pillows and recalling all the dreamy details of your nice dream — you wish it was not just a dream.

I tried some hypnosis for deep sleep, intentionally with purpose to reach that certain point of nice good sleep. It works, anyhow, but still no dream to catch at all.

Maybe this low esteem, sucks

I don’t know what is happening to me at the moment, but seriously, I think I am reaching my lowest point of self esteem.

I grew up reading a teenage girl magazine which has columns and article that consistently remind me to not let anybody make you doubt about yourself; you are you, you are perfect for your imperfection. Prior to this stage, I always believe that I am that great. I knew what I want, I structured my goal plans and I strived for excellence. I had so many things to achieve — and never think it will runs out someday.

But lately I’ve been thinking many things that made me questioned my self. I don’t know when it was all started, but I think that was somewhere on 2015 — after i successfully lost 12kg of my lipids through Mayo diet. I have gained a very huge confidence afterward, my-almost-ideal-body drive me to this kind of obsession towards diet, workout at gym, and rose fearness of carbohydrate. I did not eat rice for almost half of year, but until one point of time, my weight does not come down any longer. I became frustrated and hate my self so much — and started this whole nightmare called bulimia.

Yap I know. That bulimia.

Only two people in the world knows about this — yet now i wrote this in public. I remembered that time when i pick 1st floor office bathroom (just because people not really used it) as the place where i did my b ritual after lunch. I used glasses instead of contact lenses, so people wouldn'’ directly see my red-eye — the result of vomiting the whole lunch into the closet pot. I used to pick ice cream as dessert as it tasted so good in my mouth even when you flows it back from your throat. And yes, as seen on the TV, I was that expert who used only two, or three of my fingers while bow down to let go those greasy fatty liquid slash solid slash disgusting pieces of food.

And after each ritual, I found sort of relief. Those things will not stay.

But turns out, I lost my patience. My weight did not dropped the way I expected it should be. I got frustrated, and then started to do eat binging. I ate everything that I wanted, and maximum one hour from that, I came back to the bathroom, playing my playlist and started my ritual to get rid of this thing.

And I hated my self even more.

This yoyo diet and extra commitment to gym finally killed my belief on the end result. Instead of being healthy, I was obsessed to get skinny body. Which was never happened. And I gave up. I got new boyfriend who loved me the way I was — so I come back to food.

I gained back to the first weight I was before diet when I write this. And my mind set is never be the same eversince.

Well — after all.. Do you think shrink is worth a visit for me?