Self-Pity

There’s really not going to be anything much but hard words of self-pity in this entry. This paragraph suggests that you leave if you’re not the kind who likes to see Rachel pity herself because the rest of the world doesn’t pity her painful predicaments. Okay, so maybe it won’t be that bad. See? I actually have a smiley here!

I hate the feeling that wrenches at my heart when I don’t know what to do about myself or my life anymore. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t know where I’m meant to be heading either. I have no idea who I want to be, what I want to do, or where I want to do it. That, in itself, seems so far off in the distance. Yet it beckons.

I read this entry awhile ago, written by an ex-Nanyang girl who went off to Victoria Junior College in the same year I left for National JC. It basically talked about how afraid she was, because it seems as if nothing was ever concrete anymore. I would give exact quotations, but she closed her blog and I don’t know when that was. I found it terribly easy to relate to everything she said and I realised how afraid I am too.

Stepping into National JC was basically venturing into unfamiliar territory. I didn’t have to do it. I could have stayed on and played with fate and fire. Maybe nothing would have come of it. Maybe not. I envy those who can say confidently that coming over was definitely the right choice for them. As for me, I still spend time wondering what it would have been like if I’d stayed. Would my Math have improved? How about my Physics? What CCA would I have joined (since bowling shut itself down)? Where would I have gone? Would I have enjoyed myself?

So the venturing was all fine. After all, everyone in NJIP would have to take that risk, wouldn’t they? What bugs me is that even now, after walking in and out of the school so many days, I still seem to be trying to figure things out. I don’t seem to have caught hold of a proper foothold, and I’m just slipping and sliding, slipping and sliding around. I’m scared because I cannot ice-skate and the side of the rink is no where to be seen. I’ve been crawling on my knees, sliding on my butt and giving an occasional skate or two. I know I can’t keep crawling like this and I really have to pull myself together and get up.

There’s no one else in the rink though. Have you ever tried getting up after you fell down on ice? Without anything to hold on to? Not exactly the easiest thing to do eh? Especially when one has no experience. I’m afraid because I just keep crawling and I can’t get up. I’m afraid because when I get up and I begin to skate, I think I’m doing well, but I fall again in 2 minutes flat. I’m afraid because I’m caught in my own little ice globe and no one (and I know they may have tried) can save me.

I just take what’s coming, again and again. There are things that I’ve tried for, and failed. Similarly, there are those in which I haven’t. It’s at this point of time where I usually think that I’m getting somewhere, until it all crashes down like those card houses in the wind. I’m afraid because I don’t know how to build.

I look back and see how everyone else seems to have grown. Or maybe it’s just my lack of growth that strikes me the hardest. Aileen, the girl whom I made friends with at a Scrabble Competition in 2003 has since become President of the Student Council in Nanyang Girls’ High School. Kincheng is a Sectional Leader. What am I now? Who am I?