Notes from October
I had every intention of catching up with the notes from months; in fact, i kept a few scattered thoughts from August in my notes app, but I was too busy to post, too forgetful, too sad, and then my father almost died twice. So, they never made it out past the draft stage. Then September came and disappeared in a blur, and here we are—October already in full swing, and I’m left wondering how we got here so fast.
I.
Now that it is October, I can comfortably say that this summer flattened me out. In the early days of August, all I did was work, sleep on and off, just to feel something aching to rest. I had also removed all social media apps from my phone (except Twitter) and turned off all of WhatsApp notifications. Just thinking of all the notifications waiting for me made me feel miserable. I just wanted to be, not a sister, not a friend, and not somebody who needs to act a certain way for others around me to be happy. I would often times lay on my side or my back, staring at the farthest corner of my room, feeling worse and worse. I would often think that I should at least get up, stretch a bit, and read a book. But I didn't. I felt completely disgusted with myself.
II.
Back in 2020, I spent most of lockdown forcibly confronting all my childhood trauma. It was quite difficult to accept that my mother was both complicit in my abuse as well as a victim of my father's. From there on, I promised myself I would do my very best, trying not to be like her.
Well—cue a dramatic pause—I spent so much time trying not to be like my mother that I completely didn't see myself becoming my father. I felt so blindsided and disappointed. It's horrible. Part of me felt like I had lost control over my own narrative; after all, here I'm, frustratingly mirroring his rage like a perfect mirror. I'm still trying to reconcile my feelings with my parents and myself.
III.
On a Monday of late, awfully humid August, my father fell unexpectedly sick and had to be rushed to the ER. Everyone on call kept telling me how he is fine and not to worry, but I had to see him for myself to believe it.
When the moment of truth came, I found my father sat at his bedside, folded into himself, strangly docile, resigned, and small. It's been a week (at the time of writing this) after the visit, and I still can't find the right word to describe how strangly jarring it felt to find the man who always looked strong, even in the days of the passing of his father, look like that (it's wilted, I realized as I got to writing).
PS: He is doing well now!
IV.
After my talk with my mother about the whole deal of not having kids and not caring about marriage, She started showing me every short about kids she ever came across. I don't know how many "that's cute" in a monotone voice I have left in me before I completely lose it.
On the subject of losing it. Every single time I have to think about what to cook for dinner or "what do you want for dinner," it brings me closer to the edge. I'm so close to asking ChatGPT to create a weekly menu for me.
V.
VI.
Things i have been watching/reading/liking:
• Finished watching Neon Genesis Evangelion and The End of Evangelion. And I’m planning to write about that soon.
• Currently watching Gintama, a parody, historical sci-fi action anime. Absolutely obsessed with Kintoki (the main character), who started a business for doing odd jobs after being a samurai was banned.
• Re-read Flowers for Algernon. Still makes me feel sad.
Little spoiler ahead.
One thing that always stuck out to me was that Charlie was never able to relate to any person throughout the entire story. Before the procedure, he’s mentally challenged. And after it, he's slowly ascending to the point where he eventually became on a much higher level than the men who made him a genius.
His aggression and anger also stuck with me. It's well written and very accurate, as well as his reasons for the aggression, specifically during his descent.
See you next time,
f <3