Right now, I'm spending my Christmas Eve at my room just like what I want to (well, what I really want is to finally spend Christmas with my family but nevermind). Anyway, I just want to share my playlist for tonight. I'm not that religious, I know. But Christmas songs are always magical (even though not all songs in my playlist here are Christmas songs). So here they are and merry Christmas!
1) O Holy Night - Celine Dion
2) We Are The Reason - Avalon
3) I Believe in You - Il Divo
4) Baby It's Cold Outside - Idina Menzel, Michael Buble
5) I'll Be Home For Christmas - Michael Buble
6) Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas - Michael Buble (My Alltime Favourite)
7) All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey
8) Last Christmas - Ashley Tisdale
9) Santa Baby - Michael Buble
10) White Christmas - Michael Buble
Now when I should be excited for holidays, like waking up on Christmas morning, or having cake for my birthday, or sitting down for Thanksgiving dinner, I want to cry instead.
I want to stay in bed all day. I don’t want to open presents and celebrate and have fun, because everyone I want to be there is not there.
3 Days until Christmas and I'm not excited at all. I haven't even had any plan on Christmas day. Not because nobody asks me to do anything, but because I can't. I don't think I'm ready enough to do something on Christmas day. Something festive. Or even to just meet people out there.
Last year's Christmas was already depressing, honestly. It was the month when I was so confused whether I should move to Netherlands or stay in Germany. I was wishing that next Christmas -- which means, this year's Christmas -- I would be happy. Or even better, I could finally spend Christmas with my family. Apparently, this year's Christmas is even worse. I can't spend it with my family. No matter how hard I try, my Christmas spirit is slowly fading away.
As I promised, I would try to write about my father. Yet, I feel that no words can ever properly describe him. Ever heard The Script's song 'If You Could See Me Now?' Well, that might explain how I look upon my father. How everything I did -- and do -- was/is for him.
"Because the man wasn't good he was great." Yes, my father was that great. I'm so lucky I had a chance to learn what's the meaning of perseverance, passion, family, hard work, all from him. He taught me that the world isn't always kind. Yet, he always hid his problems from us -- from me and my brother. He asked me to be independent. Yet, I know he would give everything in order for us not to suffer alone.
He gave me books and books to read. He gave me stories to learn. He gave me words and strength. But now he is gone. He is gone forever.
I don't know what he's doing now. I would like to believe that now he is happy in Heaven. I know he must worry about us -- about me and my brother and my mom. About my university as well as my brother's school. He always put education on top of everything. He risked everything in order for us to pursue a higher and better education. Yet I fail him. I know, I know everyone at funeral was saying that my father was really proud of me. Proud of me because I study -- or studied, actually -- in Germany. Yet, deep down inside, I always feel that it was such a fake pride. I haven't graduated. I'm still nobody. I can't even get side job in order to help my mom paying our education (oh why the hell that school and university must be this expensive).
I know my father had a lot of patience. And I know he was really kind and sacred -- that his body had not even begun to smell and get destroyed until four days after his death. I know he died peacefully, and he was smiling forever. I know he is at better place now. That this world is just too cruel for him.
Honestly, I feel like I would be able to write more, if I wrote this in a month after his death. Right now, I have tried too much to run from reality, that it becomes hard for me to explain my feelings.
I wish my father would like to be photographed more. I wish I recorded every single thing that my father ever told me. I wish I could listen to his voice over and over again, reassuring me that things are going to be alright.
But I can't. It is impossible. You say nothing is impossible? Bullshit.
I hate how everything about him slowly fades away. Yes it's true. I try so hard to always remember his words. To always remember the way he said things to me. Though, again, it is impossible. It is so hard because I don't even have any video of us. Only photos. And though people say photographs worth thousand words, no, in this case they don't.
I tried to recover every chat record we had. I tried to sleep, in a hope that I would ever meet him again in my dream. Yet the last time we met in my dream was four months ago. A week or probably two weeks after his death. And he only said two sentences: 'Don't be in a rush. Dad would try to find a way for you.'
That's it. I'm not really sure with what he meant by these two sentences. I know he didn't choose to leave us. He had no choice. But I can't help to ask myself in the night -- when I can't sleep and things are just too heavy for me; if you love me, why'd you leave me, Dad?
It's been four months for me living in The Hague. Things get better. Yes they do. I feel more welcomed here. I love my courses. I love to finally understand what I learn. I love to finally able to communicate better, and not entirely feel like such an alien. I love that I live in a city where there are more to offer. I love that I do not have to run like a cheetah in order to catch my train (which only came in every one hour). I have lovely friends. My house is comfy enough. I explore things. I eat a lot. I take photos.
And things get better. Yes they do.
But do I feel happy?
Well, deep down inside, I know I can never be that whole again. I am genuinely happy when my friends happy. Yet, if they ask am I happy, I can't. I can't answer. I can't feel anything.
Yes, things get better. But the wound left from losing my father, the broken heart, the sadness, the bitterness, they stay. They do stay. And they become demons that I try to hide and fight every day.
I never thought that day would actually come. I mean, the day before I flew to Germany for the first time, I heard my Pakde (uncle) told me the story how he had to fly back immediately to Jakarta after receiving the news that his mother passed away. I was just wondering what if that happened to me.
And you know, it happened. It really happened.
I was supposed to stay in Germany this summer. I already booked ticket to Rome, Italy. I was just about to go to my exams for two weeks, and then my friends were supposed to come by and having sleepover with me for two days and then I would fly to Rome with another friend and having fun for a week.
But life threw me a lemon. (In fact, life has been throwing me stale lemons this year). My Pakde -- the same Pakde who told me the story-- called me and told me that my dad passed away unexpectedly due to heart attack. My Dad was healthy enough to play tennis, that's what my Pakde told me. But suddenly, he fell down during the game. And just like that, he's gone forever.
What did I feel? I wasn't sure. That's really indescribable. I was angry. I was sad. I was relief -- knowing my Dad would be in a better place then.
Up until now, I'm still not sure what I feel. I'm still sad. I'm lost. I'm not angry anymore, I guess. All I know, his death really changed me and the way I look at the world now. Although, it's been more than a month and it still feels surreal.
I will write about how perfect he was as a dad. I will write about how inspiring he was. But not now. Because for now, all I want to do is just distracting myself. Though I'm masochist enough to put Hurt by Christina Aguilera on repeat. (And really, the lyric describes this situation perfectly).
I was browsing through make-up reviews (yes, I know, I'm starting to make myself looks more presentable and I believe it isn't too late yet), when I somehow stumbled upon this video. I directly hit subscribe button after watching this video, even though actually I'm not a person who easily follows Youtubers no matter how famous they are. Anyway, the question that she asked in this video is simple; 'where were you three years ago?' If you read my blogposts before, it's obvious that I've been so bitter lately. I have the same fear as her: afraid of not doing enough. I constantly blame myself. I constantly think that I'm not becoming a better person. I honestly think that I have not achieved anything especially when I start to compare myself to other people on social media (who mostly only post their polished-version of life). Thus, I really like this video as it's so straightforward. It shows how those beauty/fashion bloggers start from bottom. It shows how they also are insecure, just like us. They're human. Honestly, I think many fashion/beauty bloggers nowadays only want to show their good sides. They kinda form the idea how their lives are so perfect, even though I believe that they did start from the zero too.
So, three years ago, what was I doing?
At first I thought that there would be no significant changes in three years. Three years don't seem that long. But when I really think about it again, I realise that I've changed a lot.
- Three years ago, I was still in high school, living with my parents. I realise I was a spoiled brat. Being raised in a family that is fortunate enough to have maid and driver (well, in Indonesia it's quite common actually), I didn't do my dishes and laundry, I didn't cook, I can't even drive. I thought performing well at school is enough to prove my family that I'm a good kid and deserve some kind of rewards. But, seriously, what kind of thinking is that? Even though I can't say that I'm no longer spoiled, I do try to live more independently now as I'm living by myself.
- In three years, I have travelled to many new places with friends as well as by myself. No, I'm not a traveller and not gonna self proclaim that I'm a traveller. I'm kinda an 'organising' freak in a way that I have to really triple-quadraple check the itinerary before actually go to the airport/ train station. And I do spend days on Google Maps before going to new places. So I guess I'm just a girl who's lucky enough to get a chance to make new memories. And for me, it's actually already much.
- I started to try to say my opinion. I wasn't able to say 'yes' or 'no' to people before. When they asked me whether the dresses match them or not, I would always say yes. When they asked me to go out, I couldn't refuse.
- I started to go to college and then university. Even though it's a bumpy road, it has actually opened so many opportunities.
- And thus, I started to take chances. I tried to work at bookstore. I tried to open business with my friend. I tried to join organisations. I tried to sell stuffs online. I tried to blog and know people from here.
- I started to finally writing my novels until they are done. I don't leave my draft unfinished anymore.
- I started to believe that we actually start from zero. Just like first drafts are shit, first try won't always succeed. What matters is that I start. It's no longer just an idea.
- I started to learn more outside school. Watching tutorials on Youtube, from make-up to how to do amigurumi to how to cook (but I still suck at them).
- I started to appreciate true friends and let go those who say 'sweetheart' to me but actually won't have my back when life gives me lemon.
- I started to pray -- like, really really pray.
Finally, yes, she's right. We sometimes forget how far we have walked already. We forget to believe in ourselves. We forget to believe that in the next three years, we could have accomplished more. This video is just a good way to end this month with good feelings.
“I don’t understand why you’re so determined to dislike me,” Brighton says.
Does she really want to go there? Because I will.
“How do you think people describe you? They say, ‘BrightonWaterford, she’s so…’”
“I don’t know.” She stares at her nails. “I hope they’d say nice.”
“Nice?” I scoff. “Nice is the word you use when you can’t think of a real adjective. It’s what you say when something doesn’t make an impression. Socks are a ‘nice’ gift. That’s the word you want people to use about you?”
“What would people say about you?” she challenges.
It’s a fair question, but it doesn’t have just one answer. My old baseball team would go with quitter; apparently Carly would choose cheater; anyone at C.P. High would say loser; while my mother would say maladjusted. My dad wouldn’t sugarcoat it; he’d called me a traitor, disappointment, and worse before he left.
I offer the words that seem truest: “Cynical? Jaded?”
And all this time I keep trying so people will call me nice. Even though deep down inside, I know I might not be that nice. We are all complex characters after all.
I am deeply aware that my blog seems too dark lately. I'm sorry but I feel talking here by myself (even though of course people will read -- but hey, they are strangers, and sometimes strangers are nicer) is better than keeping it inside until someday it will burst. Anyway, stop talking about it. I want to share some photographs that I took when I was wandering around Cologne last-last-last week. I think it was during the first week of spring when somehow the shine was shining (too) brightly. Here we go.
They say you only miss the sun when it starts to snow. So enjoy the sunshine while it lasts, people!
Everyday I force myself to wake up early. I force myself to catch the bus and going to classes. I force myself to stay at school until (at least) 5 p.m even though I don't have class anymore. Sometimes I stay at school until it almost closes. But I don’t know what I’m fighting for. I don’t know which one is important, which one is not. Building images -- I call my hardwork now is just to build an image that I'm still fighting. Or maybe I'm just killing time. Or killing my mind that will speak too loud when I'm not doing anything.
These days I've seen on social media posting about people comparing the first child of our current president and the children of our ex presidents. I don't want to talk about politic. I just want to outline how people will always find what's wrong from you. That's overwhelming, I have to say. But that's also a relief. Doesn't it mean that we can do whatever we want, because whatever we do, some people will support and some people will still judge?
I think it's pretty clear that we all have different priorities in life. We pursue different things. Some people want to study and get degree as much as they can. Some people want to build businesses. Some people work for money. Some people work for love. Whatever.
But I think it's hard for people to fully accept it. If my friend wants to study until he/she can get doctoral degree, some people will still think that all he/she can do is just studying. He/she is unable to work, nor to build a family. On the other side, if he/she doesn't want to go to university, some people will think that he/she is less educated. Regardless how much he/she have actually achieved.
Woah.
Here, I post my story about I want to move to another university as I've failed. If you don't read it from the beginning, you will assume that I'm that weak. Or maybe you won't think anything, because this is pretty normal, because I can do whatever I want and nobody actually cares. I don't know.
All I know, these days I'm being so hard to myself. I always think about the 'what ifs'. Maybe because I'm also aware that people will likely to point out the mistakes that I've done. Maybe because that's our nature, never feel satisfied and end up beating ourselves up.
If only saying 'whatever' to it was that easy. If only I could always remember 'the key to failure is trying to please everybody'. Maybe there wouldn't be any anxiety attack in 2 a.m -- the time when your brain could only be your biggest enemy.
I was about to post this on last mother's day, which was last last month, I guess? I don't know. I was about to write on Instagram along with posting her photo, but then I realise that it has no point since my mom doesn't have Instagram. Anyway, I'm not a girl who is comfortable enough to show my affection. That includes showing my affection to my parents. I don't know what is wrong with me (or maybe it's not something wrong), as I actually grew up in a loving family. And anyway, I think I should just stop rambling because I start forgetting what I was about to say.
So, I forget most of what my mom has said to me. Yes, of course, don't take it personally. Nobody really remembers every word that someone has said to him/her, right? But I somehow always remember that my mom once said to me, that I should not want to be like her. You know what? That's crazy. My mom has been my role model. But then she told me that I should want to be a better person. Don't be 'just like her'.
I always see my mom as a superwoman. She handles everything. She manages to have her own business, while still drives me and my brother to school, cooks (most of the time), sews my ripped skirt, helps with our homeworks, and manages her social life (that includes being a choir member and being active at church). The most important thing is that I still feel loved. Of course, I just realised this when I've left home and being far away from her.
Additionally, I also follow some bloggers who happen to be young moms. And I start to realise that it's hella crazy to balance everything like that. Mother always wants the best for her children. But then, we tend to close our eyes and we tend to get mad when our moms do mistakes or silly things. We forget that moms --as well as dads-- are just humans. We forget that they actually have no idea at first how to raise a child, especially if you are the firstborn like me. Hence, I would like to say that my mother already sets a perfect example for me. Why should not she be confident enough about it?
I still want to use my mom as my role model. I still want to be a superwoman one day. I want to balance everything and most importantly, I want to make my family feel loved. It's awesome. My mom is awesome even though she is not a CEO in a large multinational company, nor a doctor in a big hospital, nor a famous singer. And if one day she happens to read this, hello Mom, you should have known that I love you.
I always thought that my first heartbreak was the day when the boy whom I had a crush on for about three years long suddenly date another girl. That day I remember I felt nothing. Numb, maybe. And I mistakenly thought it as my first heartbreak.
Because, no, it wasn't.
My first heartbreak was the day when I had to let go my dream to go to my dream college because I had no courage at all to tell my father I wanted to go to that college. The reason was simple, actually. I knew my family did not have enough money to send me to that college. I knew to get scholarship for undergraduate students was insanely difficult.
My mistake was, I never even told them the truth. I'd always surrendered, telling them that it's okay to go to Germany instead. Or, no, I was rebellious. But not in a good way. Because I know I was shouting at my father right on his birthday's celebration (yes, I always remember that day). I told him he did not understand me at all because he kept asking me to go to Germany, while actually, I was trying to say that I wanted to at least try to get scholarship first, so that I could go to another university in another country. I failed without even trying, you know?
Well, that was my heartbreak. And heartbreak is not always about boys, I think.
It actually still hurts until now. I cannot trust myself to dream again. I cannot even let it go. I keep thinking about the 'what ifs'. What if I had enough courage to appropriately ask my father. What if I tried harder enough so that my IB score could reach 44 (too impossible, I know) and I could get the scholarship.
It feels like i've lost everything.
And now, you know, I have a second chance to make my dream comes true. Well, not the exact dream that I had three years ago actually. But it's my dream, now.
Yet, I cannot trust myself that this is going to work. I'm afraid. It's when you have your heart broken and somebody shows up saying that he can fix you but you cannot trust it easily. You keep asking yourself what if this person is going to break your heart again.
And yes, it is me, myself, now.
I am afraid that I have to let go my dream for one more time.
To let my heart got broken one more time.
This post is decided for this video, which successfully made me in tears right after i just woke up today.
I never realized how much my parents have sacrificed for me until I live alone here, far away from my parents.
You know when you're just a teenager, you always think that your parents always try to bring you down, right? Hell, now I really feel sorry about every fight that we've been into (even though maybe it's not that much). And most of the times, this just makes me think, how can I pay it back? Being successful is not that easy. I just want they know that even though I don't seem studying hard, struggling, or striving for something now. I always do.
Well, I've a lot to tell. And yes, I've temporarily closed this blog since I need to deal with too many things right now. As what you've read from the previous post, you might know that I've failed to do a 'Praktikum'. When I wrote that post, I actually did not think that this could lead to a very big problem to me. Well, it has caused such a domino effect. I totally thought that failing one 'Praktikum' could only lead to me having momentary break, which for your information, I was really craving for that. But then, no. I would not be allowed to take part in another 'Praktikum' as well as written exams. And as what i've said before, this would extent my study to one year longer.
It's normal, isn't it?
No, not really. Not if you start asking yourself what if you fail again next year. Remember that up until now, I actually have no idea at all about what I've already studied. (Yes, the perks of studying in German language). I barely understand the material. I just memorised everything for the sake of passing exams. I did not study to understand. And to be honest, I hate it.
My parents were the first who start asking me, do I want to move to another university? If you've already followed my blog since the beginning, you will instantly know the answer. Yes, I do. I've always, always wanted to not going to Germany for university. I've sacrificed so many things to go to Germany for god's sake. And now they offer me the chance to go for what I've wanted/ did want. Why I wrote 'did'? Because really, I start asking myself is that really what I want? To not continue studying in Germany? Do I still want it? I'm already in the middle of this fight. Many also say that you need to finish what you've started. I've also already build my comfort zone here, with the lady who I consider as my own mother, with my close friends, and so on.
But again, I barely understand the material that I've studied so far. I somehow feel like I have no purpose with my study here.
And hence, I'm torn between two. Staying here or moving.
Well, I might not explain this very clear here. Because, believe me, what is in my head right now is just a mess. I couldn't concentrate. I was in the phase where I just wanted to stay under my blanket the whole day. Depression? I don't know. All I know, is this is just worse than before. I spent day by day with no orientation. I spent my christmas and new year holiday just like another day. I cancelled my plan to go to Disneyland or Italy. I distant myself from everyone, even my boyfriend.
For now, I have processed my applications to transfer to two universities while still managing to keep up with lessons in my current university (with very little motivation). By transfer, hopefully I don't have to start from the beginning. But still, I have to take care every thing by myself. And I have to start making friends again. And I don't know if I'm just introvert or actually having social anxiety, but it's just getting difficult for me to instantly feel comfortable in a new environment. It takes around one year for me to build another comfort zone.
Hey, nothing good comes from comfort zone, right?
Yeah, I don't know, I really hope things are getting better soon. It's 2015 already. And 2014, for me, started with great motivation and ended up with almost zero.
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