Jcyf94's Blog

I wish I could forget things I need to forget. 

I wish I could remember things I need to remember. 

I wish I could step away from this space between truth and lies. 

I wish I could make myself clear while remaining ambiguous. 

I wish I have not, do not and will not hurt anyone, intentionally or not. 

I wish others have not, do not and will not hurt me, intentionally or not. 

I wish I were not others’ stepping stone. 

I wish I were not others’ easy prey. 

Do not speak what is in your mind. 

Do not write down what is in your mind. 

Do not take others’ attempts to intimidate, humiliate and dehumanize personally even if they are purely personal. 

Do not relinguish your life and your sanity. 

Remember at all time that you are perpetually at war. 

Remember your limits. 

Remember to toughen up. 

Remember what have been done to you and function at the same time. 

You only get one life. There is no second life. Each of your loved ones only get one life either. When people threaten my life and those of my loved ones as not worth living, I get very, very anxious and terrified.

I will not be able to do what I need to and ought to in life because what I am able to do has been slowly taken away from me. I am not pleading for special clemency. I am preparing, dreaming, documenting and hoping all

 at the same time. No one in their thirties should contemplate their life legacy because there is supposed to be something to look upon and hope for. There is no excuse for people like me who have all the privilege with being born in the right family. I do not play Roulette with my life.

And there is today, contemplating about the past 6 and a half year, witnessing deaths, hearing dread, experiencing persecutions, enduring assaults and waking up in fright daily. After almost reflexive terror-numbing ritual, I can not regret because everything that happens is a framework of intelligent design. The dilemmas had already been pre-determined, before I started to even contemplate what I was trying to do. Therefore, I, with everything shattered, still tightly cling, hoping for hope, dreaming about dreams.

I like to be able to speak to my father and mother about what happened during the past six plus years. I like to be able to make people who cared about me, especially my family, to feel like they are not wasting their efforts caring about me, as I know well enough by now what it feels to be disposable, arguing to a radio. I like to be able to lead a full, enriched life, not as someone else’s pawn. I do not care about, in fact, loath fame of any sorts. I yearn to be able to excel on certain discipline, not for vanity, just to feel fulfilled. I long for a day when I will be able to subsist on myself and be able to help others as others have helped me. I dream about periods in the past when I was able to live within the realm of equilibrium, when I was able to balance health, family, work, social life, leisure, financial security, and medication simultaneously.

I think about life without terror, with a tongue that could cry for help under such terror without further terror. I think about love, fear, shame and guilt and how they are engulfed by terror, and the only relief available invites further terror. I then think about life without such terror, and dare not think anymore, because it involves directly to subscitation of my life, as opposed to death.

I am again writing in this blog, knowing that there are the permanent records. Living under constant public surveillance that is syndicated for 4+ years, having all the material and life-sustaining elements I need but deemed as an evil, shameless, malicious sub-human species that ought to die a horrible death by neighbors, strangers, friends, and relatives, I ought to keep the very little remaining privacy I cherished left to myself. However, I fail to mention that I have lived in a virtually solitary confinement with a tongue that could not speak when feared. I dare not accuse anyone of anything anymore, but the psychological torture and direct energy to the head have forced me to grasp tightly onto what keeps me being engulfed by extreme terror.

I have thanked for what has been given to me, and am powerless to hold onto them as time goes by. I have endured fear, rage, anxiety and shame until the inner container had overflown years ago that I needed external aids to cope. I have been wounded by hundreds of cuts psychologically and stolen and withering physically.

This sounds like whining to me. There are reasons I am despised and condemned as if I am Osama Bin Laden, except that I am extremely terrorized, not an extreme terrorist. I am being accused of what I have been accused of because I initially wanted to be normal and not extreme in regard to compulsiveness. Gradually I wanted to be strong so I can prepare for terror in regard to the concrete jungle deep in which we (most of) are the cohabitants. Now, I want to simply lessen the extreme terror coming from various sources and be prepared every morning. Yet, extreme chronic fright indicates a sign of weakness and entitlement, doesn’t it?

I am not corrosively corrupt.
I am not debaucherous.
I am not morally bereft.
I am not hedonistic.
I am not a cheater.
I am not a loafer.
I am not a thief.
I am not Satan.
I am petrified.
I am human.
I am sane.

Are you a predator?

At my age, I am supposed to have gotten used to a lifestyle evolving about my profession, and worry about something else instead. It is 14:57. I just woke up. I had an unpleasant dream, not a nightmare, but was constructed on a reality-based foundation. I never got to finish reading Freud about the interpretationof dreams; it was written 100+ years ago.

I never got to finish most of the books I started, just as I never got to finish majority of the dreams I started. Being hindsight 20-20 and having his/her own personal agenda in mine, people would have all sorts of opinion as why they are so. Some say I might have grown up pampered and spoiled, not appreciating the merit of self-discipline while others simply dismissed them as signs of character defects; I should have been used to people’s gossips and laughters behind my back, just I should have been resigned to the fact that I have passed the Golden Age of 35.  It does not take a mind-reader to know what I think of this, especially now that I have stripped naked by disguises.

I do not have the habit of voyeurism, divulging my personal beliefs easily and casually. I do cherish my privacy and value my personal philosophy. As of this moment, after over four years of discovering my privacy had been intruded and dangled infront of passer-bys, I still do not know what to do about such shame. I am not shameful of what I have done in my life. I am shameful that I have been forced to endure the plight that is worse than being forced to walk naked, and can do nothing about it.  I do not know if it is done by blatant design, or careless neglects. The damage is done and I have to force myself to get used to such shame. If I stopped behaving as I had been before I discovered the fact, I would temporarily stop the bleeding, but then I would have to live the rest of my life with the hidden pain without being able to ask for any release. Again, I do not know I would ever get used to it, ever.

To divulge my inner self at this moment is not a choice. A wiser man might have a better solution; I have not met that man.

It is 16:35.

At my age, I am supposed to have gotten used to a lifestyle evolving about my profession, and worry about something else instead. It is 14:57. I just woke up. I had an unpleasant dream, not a nightmare, but was constructed on a reality-based foundation. I never got to finish reading Freud about the interpretationof dreams; it was written 100+ years ago.

I never got to finish most of the books I started, just as I never got to finish majority of the dreams I started. Being hindsight 20-20 and having his/her own personal agenda in mine, people would have all sorts of opinion as why they are so. Some say I might have grown up pampered and spoiled, not appreciating the merit of self-discipline while others simply dismissed them as signs of character defects; I should have been used to people’s gossips and laughters behind my back, just I should have been resigned to the fact that I have passed the Golden Age of 35.  It does not take a mind-reader to know what I think of this, especially now that I have stripped naked by disguises.

I do not have the habit of voyeurism, divulging my personal beliefs easily and casually. I do cherish my privacy and value my personal philosophy. As of this moment, after over four years of discovering my privacy had been intruded and dangled infront of passer-bys, I still do not know what to do about such shame. I am not shameful of what I have done in my life. I am shameful that I have been forced to endure the plight that is worse than being forced to walk naked, and can do nothing about it.  I do not know if it is done by blatant design, or careless neglects. The damage is done and I have to force myself to get used to such shame. If I stopped behaving as I had been before I discovered the fact, I would temporarily stop the bleeding, but then I would have to live the rest of my life with the hidden pain without being able to ask for any release. Again, I do not know I would ever get used to it, ever.

To divulge my inner self at this moment is not a choice. A wiser man might have a better solution; I have not met that man.

It is 16:35.

I feel alone, confused and stranded while under prolonged personal crises and as a result, severe chronic fatigue and stress with frequent panic attack, and the current medical establishment has not been able, and under the current circumstances, willing to treat my current physical and mental anguish, as I have few reasons to trust the ethics of physicians and the intention of the local medical authority, that my life and well-being are their foremost concern and priority, as the medical community is going through systematic change in the nature of the system. I have no choice but to take my recovery into my own hands, having witnessed and experienced the inner workings and reality of the status quo in the field of medicine.

I feel alone, confused and stranded while under prolonged personal crises and as a result, severe chronic fatigue and stress with frequent panic attack, and the current medical establishment has not been able, and under the current circumstances, willing to treat my current physical and mental anguish, as I have few reasons to trust the ethics of physicians and the intention of the local medical authority, that my life and well-being are their foremost concern and priority, as the medical community is going through systematic change in the nature of the system. I have no choice but to take my recovery into my own hands, having witnessed and experienced the inner workings and reality of the status quo in the field of medicine.

I am sharing my experience so maybe by the slightest chance either others would share their similar experiences and figure out a way to deal with them or through a properly structured system, I would succesfully learn to utilize the internet to succesfully establish a defensive mechanism realistically, so I can find a place online where I can find other people with similar values, experiences, difficulties, and goals to establish something that resembles a community, where what I have to offer would be genuinely useful, helpful and appreciated, as I would feel to others’ share experiences. I do not want to spend excessive amount of time online without a purpose or wasting time sitting and wondering what to do and where to go from here. I like to use internet as  part of solutions to my problems and engine to my growth, not a place to escape from reality and a channel to be exposed the ugly, sadistic and cruel aspects of human existence behind anonimity and the first amendment. I like to believe that with collective efforts, the rapid spread of socially Darwinistic way of living can be effectively countered, as well as the feeling of helplessness, powerlessness, isolatedness and being controlled by fear and paralyzed by despair. I wish to restore my eroding trust and optimism towards the local environment, the  fellow human beings, and the world. I do not expect miracles, saviors or utopia. I have personal stake in this. I have left too many virtual footprints not to continue chasing.

I am sharing my experience so maybe by the slightest chance either others would share their similar experiences and figure out a way to deal with them or through a properly structured system, I would succesfully learn to utilize the internet to succesfully establish a defensive mechanism realistically, so I can find a place online where I can find other people with similar values, experiences, difficulties, and goals to establish something that resembles a community, where what I have to offer would be genuinely useful, helpful and appreciated, as I would feel to others’ share experiences. I do not want to spend excessive amount of time online without a purpose or wasting time sitting and wondering what to do and where to go from here. I like to use internet as  part of solutions to my problems and engine to my growth, not a place to escape from reality and a channel to be exposed the ugly, sadistic and cruel aspects of human existence behind anonimity and the first amendment. I like to believe that with collective efforts, the rapid spread of socially Darwinistic way of living can be effectively countered, as well as the feeling of helplessness, powerlessness, isolatedness and being controlled by fear and paralyzed by despair. I wish to restore my eroding trust and optimism towards the local environment, the  fellow human beings, and the world. I do not expect miracles, saviors or utopia. I have personal stake in this. I have left too many virtual footprints not to continue chasing.

I woke up in a better mental state of mind than most days around 10:00. After blocking some unhelpful and unnecessarily negative thoughts (who the fuck am I to enable myself sleep until 10;00! Why do I need more sleep than others? Am I some royalty who has no responsibility? Look at this room again and…..)

I decide to set up a reward system to help me break out the current state. I scribbled down some ideas before I realize I really do not need many carrots, being able to complete a task itself will reap its own reward that I cherish the most.

If I clean up my room, I will not feel as stuck as I have been and definitely regain myself a sense of control that was lost and necessary. It will be easier to step out of the room and reclaim my ability. Taking showers will make me less self-conscious and healthier. Shaving and getting haircut will make me feel less guilty when I see my parents. All the rewards contain in finishing the chore itself. This goes for most cases for me.

Carrot and stick approach probably work when you want someone to do the he/she does not want to do. I DESPERATELY WANT TO DO WHAT I AM SUPPOSED TO DO! I have not done them and I have tried many ways to propel myself forward to jump start, but keep on failing. I have punished myself to the point that becomes counter-productive.

Back to square one. I definite can do them despite my volatile condition. I just got to keep finding that small change that will change the game. I really wish, if I am being under surveillance, I can get to review the past to see that the key to my stagnation is.