A Disease of Mine

I thought to myself that I was a normal girl. A perfectly normal girl. I thought, I was doing just fine in life. I socialized just fine. I have friends. 'I am happy', or so I thought.

It all started in second half of 2015. When I was struggling with college and different extracurricular activities. It was my second year in college. All of my high school friends were and still busy with their own stuff. I was seriously struggling, it felt really suffocating. But I didn't know how to deal with it. I wanted to talk to someone, I wanted someone to hear me out. But I couldn't bring myself to simply chat my friends. Back in high school, I always shared my stories with my mom. I shared my worries with her and she'd give me advice. It'd calm me down. But in college, I didn't share it. I feel like it's already burdensome for her to send me here, I don't want to make things worse by worrying her. I didn't have the courage to tell my college friends about my problems. I thought, 'they're all also struggling, Han. Possibly more than you do.' So in the end, I swallowed it all up.

To tell you the truth, it was really one of the most depressing and tiring year of mine. I became a performance manager of my extracurricular club. My job is to manage all of the performances that the club is going to do. It's also my job to manage the costume lease. I had to do the laundry after the performance, stack all the costume back in place, do the inventory, personally message all members of the club to join the performance, arrange the practice schedule, do the make up, all of it on my own. It's not that I don't have any staff, they're all busy with their own academic activities and other things. Soon I realized that they kind of let go of this club and it's their sign for me not to disturb them anymore. And so I did. I never asked them to do anything ever again. This lasted for a year, from may 2015 to may 2016.

At the same time, I became a visual designer for Navire. A 12 sks worth course. My job was to design anything related to Navire. It was all fun until deadline strikes. For someone who is inexperienced in the art field this job surely gave me the pressure. I remember that time in November or December 2015, when I had to design Navire's first lookbook and also did the finishing touch for decision making course final assignment. When I say finishing touch, it includes designing the report and also check the assignment all over again from scratch. I did break down in tears several times a day during D-2 submission day for decision making final assignment until I finally submitted it by myself (it's a group assignment). I barely even sleep for 3 days. In second half of 2015 I realized that human could live just by having 3-4 hours of sleep a day constantly.

In 2016, I promised myself to sleep more. To enjoy my life. But then it all shattered, again. I started having major art block. At that time, I hated designing the most. I wanted to throw my laptop away just by thinking about Photoshop, InDesign, and all that stuff. I was seriously mad at myself for not being able to come up with anything, not even the slightest idea of how my designs should be. In the end, I'd cry my heart out. I was so frustrated at my own self. I hated my life. This always happened when I started to design something. But, I did it anyway. All of the asked designed they told me to do, I did it. I finished it just in time. My sister is the living evidence about my break down story. She was visiting me in Bandung when I started crying hysterically because I had to design something. She heard me crying so she checked up on me. She was surprised at the sight, so was I. I regret crying on that day because she told my Mom about it.

I guess, it's a habit of mine to swallow down my frustration and go on with life like I don't have any problem. As long as I remember, I socialized just fine during those hard times. I even laughed with my friends, seniors and juniors. They would never knew, and I would never tell that I am suffering inside.

I guess it's a disease. It's a poisonous disease that I couldn't cure, yet.

Because of that habit I developed, I start to feel lonely. I know that I have friends, but I don't do what friends supposed to do. I don't tell my problems. I don't really share my thoughts. I have no clique or whatsoever in college. I suck at keeping up with my high school and junior high school friends. This blog probably knows me more than my friends do. It's just that... I don't want to annoy them, that's all. And I know they have something more important than me. I hate to be a burden to someone. I prefer to do it all by myself.

Then again I ask myself,

Why is it so hard for you to ask for help? Why is it so hard for you to let down your strong facade?

Why is it so hard for you to act without thinking things through?

Why is it?

Why?

I am not wishing for someone's pity by writing this stuff on this blog. It's just that I treat this blog as my online diary. I wish this blog to grow old with me. I write this with hope that someday I'll overcome this continuous sadness that lingers in my life. So when I read this post and look back at myself, my 2016 depressed self, I'll be thankful.

I wish, I will smile more in my 19th year on earth.
That my life will be surrounded by only happy things.
 I wish to overcome my depressed self,
and find my happiness.
Happy early 19th birthday, Hany!