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rark-journey · 3 years
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Realistic Approach to Discovery
Throughout my life I've been living at a fast pace I thought I set up for myself. Pushing myself to keep working, to reach the next best thing. I've only recently learned to praise myself along the way. It certainly is a major character development, but the thing about always looking up to a bigger goal and higher mountain peak is that I tend to lose sight of -as Miley Cyrus once said- The Climb.
That gnawing occupational disease of always yearning for something greater, is just a branch of  deeper rooted fear of measuring life's worth only based on outcomes.
In the midst of a busy week, I went to talk to a friend. Formally, it would be called a therapy session, but circumstances were too casual and laid back. It was more like a master Oogway and Po moment. Even as I waited for the session to start, I was busy and lost in my own head planning for the next project. Not a bad thing, I love planning ahead and being organized to an extent just to get a clear idea of what I want out of that experience.
I think it was a good development for me to reach out the second I realized I was stuck in an old cycle of obsession. I thought it was ambition, that I used to hate so much because I was only thinking in dicothomy -a pathogmonic sign of unresolved trauma by the way- The more I listen to my friend's experiences, the more I get to thinking. Yeah, this is not about ambition or lack thereof. To this day I haven't determined how much thought I'd like to put into ambition and goals honestly. For now, that part doesn't cause concern nor discomfort in my life.
Then, what is this obsession? It didn't hit me until I was on my way home after the session.
I never thought I'd be a person who cares about praises or acknowledgement from others. I thought I've always known how to do that for myself. But that's exactly it. I was conditioned to only praise myself when I achieve something. I didn't know how to appreciate my own efforts, which is funny because I'm always ay the front line of appreciating others throughout their own processes. I just never realized I don't do it for myself.
I've read Camus's Sisyphus plenty of times before and I still missed the point of why we must imagine Sisyphus happy.
Naturally, knowing this 'failure' I became hard on myself and tried to re-read the essay. However, I quickly got very distressed because I have a deadline to catch up with and I just couldn't make time to read. I meditated, sort my thoughts out, and finish my daily target. Later that night, or more like dawn where everything is quiet and the sky is so dark much like my thoughts. I did what needed to be done and console myself, I ask myself the question
How do you really feel about how far you've come?
I didn't like my answer that night, so I told myself, you would rather chew sand than criticize your friend whose going through a lot like yourself right now, but you have no hesitation in putting yourself down. How does that make you feel?
Not the best way to end a night, because I had a weird weird dream afterwards.
However the next day I felt lighter after recognizing which part of myself I have to work on. Then I had to do overtime for the rest of the week so I couldn't really get myself into that headspace of total reflection, or else I would've just knock myself down to the ground from the lack of sleep. Another thing I have to learn to do.
Wasn't until my team and I finally finished the work that I suddenly got the discovery. This part of myself, that's very critical is kind of like my own personal prosecutor and I haven't accepted her as part of me. That's why it's hard, that's why I keep on battling myself.
Self reflection and wanting to do better is an omen of a mature ego. However, my self image is still going through puberty. Naturally, they would always fight and that will continously cause an identity crisis within me. It makes perfect sense for a human to always want to do better and grow from their experiences, but it's unfortunate that sometimes we're not the kindest to ourselves. Sometimes, you're not used to the gentle treatment that should've came along with criticism.
I didn't want to dwell too much on where this trait came from, which part of my past that I identify with that I still have trouble with integrating to this day. I got a rough idea of why and how and even when, but I don't want to refine the past, since you can't really do much for what's passed. The rough edges in the present that came from it can still be smooth out, so that's what I have to enjoy doing for now.
I have learned, previously, to accept the highs and the lows from pushing a rock up a mountain over and over again. I've learned not to lose myself along the way. Now, I've discovered that I also should praise myself along the way, even though it's going to be a repetitive cycle of achievements, failures, and all the things in between.
So, I guess, just like studying for the board exam. The more you know and learn, will only bring more questions and new foreign things to learn. The more you discover about yourself and your life, then there's always more rough edges to work on and refine; but that's really not all that is.
The discovery and refinement process itself, it should be precious to me and I have to learn to praise myself for doing it.
*all writings are cross-posted on Medium @made.savitra
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Grouphug for Kafka
Being 100% aware of your own prodormal symptoms is somewhat beneficial. Cause I couldn't sleep early last night and I woke up completely fine and energized even on short amount of sleep. Thankfully my restless night wasn't in vain, I found yet another comfort author.
Frank Kafka, the dude who inspired me to post my -mostly filtered- thoughts on the interwebs. If it's not filtered than it's even more messier than my written works. But, Kafka, if you don't know his life story.... man, you just want to give him a hug, a cup of warm cocoa, and maybe some Anti TB drugs while you're at it, and have a conversation by the fireplace beneath the starts cause my dude been through a lot.
His work, is revolutionary, enough to make his own genre of writing. Kafkaesque, which is highly disoriented and left you feeling like you're in a fever dream after finishing it. He died thinking his bestie burned his unfinished useless work. Kafka lived in his own mind jail after being conditioned -by his father- that's he's good for nothing and is worthless, even though his work is brilliant. It is. Truly. And somewhat still relevant after hundreds of years.
I read The Metamorphosis to keep me company last night. The main character, Gregor Samsa, one day woke up as a bug and most of his angst came from how he's going to show up to work -which he finds tiresome and dreadful-; how to explain his absence from work to his boss -which agitates him-; and how to provide for his family -whom he can't stand- in the long run if he stayed a useless insect.
Of course the book have deeper analogies and portrayal. Let me remind you, Kafka is brilliant. The analogy of being alienated from his family -because he's a bug-, the growing distance between Gregor Samsa and the rest of the family member, when Gregor saw his sister getting praises for cleaning his room and tending to his needs, while simultaneously belittling him with the analogy that Bug Gregor only likes rotten food. The hint of misogyny when the father belittles the mother when she fainted after seeing Bug Gregor held on to a painting of some lady, guilt trip him for doing that to his own mother, and getting angry at the sister because 'women would never listen'. Kafka didn't really portray the 'Father' in any golden good light whatsoever.
The family was in a financial chokehold, they grew tired of tending for this Bug thing, thus they became easily irritated. Especially the father, who went as far as -not so- accidentally injuring Bug Gregor. In that time period, Gregor already felt so isolated and alienated within his own household after the family rented some rooms for extra money right. Dude, Bug Gregor have to listen to his family converse with practically strangers every evening while he's locked behind a door, of which, now he's too weak to open by himself because he's injured.
Place yourself in Gregor's shoes at this moment. He became disabled, unable to earn for his family -who already treated him like garbage before turning into a bug- Grew ever more distant from them. While getting to hear your family be all buddy buddy with the new subject of money makers. Even though the renters practically only have a transactional relationship with Gregor's family, still, it's kinda sad to see your family warm up to other people while locking you away. Metaphorically and figuratively. Gregor grew even more agitated and disturbed by his own existence.
One day, his sister, who barely ever leave food for Gregor anymore, told the father that it's better to get rid of 'it'. Yes she meant Gregor. They really didn't have to worry because Gregor ended up dying of starvation. It's grim, this chapter was pretty graphic, how they no longer view Gregor as himself. I mean physically he is a bug, but he still have the same level of conscious awareness as Human Gregor.
Talk about body horror.
Surprisingly, the novel ends on a hauntingly light and 'happy' ending. The family took a vacation, a healing trip, and instead of grieving for Gregor, Bug Gregor and Human Gregor, they gush on how pretty the sister is. The parents view the sister in a new golden light after she managed to survived a tragedy -by tragedy they really meant Bug Gregor- and is now planning to find her a husband because she's proven herself as worthy of being a caring housewife.
Now knowing his background as the scapegoat of an unhealthy family system and after reading his work. There's a lot to unpack here...
He might or might not he projecting his own feelings of alienation from his family and the existential angst that came with it. But it's obvious, he wasn't in the right mind space. Let me say it again, Franz Kafka is a brilliant author, he just had an extremely negative perception of himself. Like hello, the way he described himself as a bug? Sir, let me give you a hug and some shots of vodka and let's dance to some Todrick Hall and maybe you'll gain some self confidence. Kafka legitimately died thinking his work never seen the light of day, little did he know it became one of the most influential literature work.
I'm not here to pity Kafka, or portray him as a helpless little bug -he already did that himself-, truly I'm here to admire how he could clearly write out these stories that mirror his real life problems. How eloquent and seamless his story telling method is. He did all this, maybe to cope, maybe as a catharsis, but it's clear he's not doing this for money nor clout -he probably doesn't know what that is- . His intentions are pure and harmless, which makes it more genuine and raw, and for me personally, heartbreaking.
Because it was dawn when I finished reading the novel, my brain went haywire. What if Kafka got adequate treatment for his physical and mental illness? What other brilliant novel, or even series could he write and publish? Will he end up as a lawyer and somehow finding a healthy resolution to his family problems? Will he find happiness? Will he rediscover himself and have more self confidence? maybe even fall in love with himself and with a potential partner.
Let's just pray that his and his family's soul rest easy.
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Promise
I promised myself I've had enough of this grief
Although it shouldn't be as deep as I felt it
Since you're still out there, by yourself, or alongside someone
Doesn't really matter
Bottom line is, I used up enough energy on you
I tried to disassociate any words that held meaning to you
I tried to honor the places we've been as mere ordinary
I stopped looking for your traits in any beauty I encountered
Be it other people, songs, literature, art, sceneries, even celestial bodies
It's just something about the moon glow that demanded to look like you
It's the way golden sun ray seeps in between green leaves
It's warmth determined to remind me of you
I promised myself it doesn't affect me anymore
Each interval between chords, the tension, the resolution
They're just melodies, it shouldn't sound like you
Even if I admit it out loud, it doesn't brush away the fact
I couldn't kept my own promise
What was done and what could have been remained a mystery
Which makes it hard for me to close the door and walk away
Leaving questions unanswered, no matter how far I search
Deep down I know where and who to ask, but how could I? When I already promised
My life is going forward in a pace I set myself
My laughter no longer falter even after tragedy
The wall that once was there no longer stood tall
The root I've planted are growing deeper and wider
Life surely goes on, better than I plan for that matter
But after all the winds and storm, a part of me stood unmoved
I beg myself to take small steps, to let it go, to leave what's unknown
I blamed myself for letting it take a hold on me
I told myself, I haven't grieved enough to move forward
Deep down I know it no longer have anything to do with unresolved feelings
I just need to know the answer of 'how' behind the dreaded 'why'
Like how did it feel so right if it's going to turn out this way?
Or, how did everything ran smooth until it didn't?
How am I supposed to find the answer by myself?
Or even, how could I left them unanswered?
I promised I would try, at least that's how much I owe myself
It's no longer about you, as it is about me now
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rark-journey · 3 years
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Happiness
A few days ago, a question presented itself to me in the form of a happiness webinar ; "What is happiness to you?". The speaker only gave the audience 10 seconds to answer in the comment, thus the first thing that came to my mind was 'Beauty'. I couldn't elaborate nor explain my answer at the time. I didn't feel the need to do so anyways, but for some reason my brain decided to hyperfixate on the idea of beauty and why it brings me so much happiness, so instead of writing an article about the webinar, I decided to write this instead. Of course I'll eventually get to my main job, but if I don't get this out of the way, that semi-formal article would be too messy to publish. My first love when I came to this earth was art, even as a kid I love vivid colors, beautiful patterns, aesthetically pleasing structures. I made it my purpose in life to paint whatever combination of colors and incorporate them into the skies of my many drawings as a child. 
Some things got lost as I grew up, as I mentioned on my previous posts, life once lost its color and beauty. I realized, during my darkest days, I lost sight of what is beautiful. So, let me explain how I view beauty. Beauty, is not something that could easily be defined, people with different cultures and upbringing will have different ideas on beauty. Hence, the diverse beauty standard. Although through my eyes, every single thing have their own appeal that makes them beautiful. That's one thing I learned from art. Art is more than just a drawing, art is an abstract idea of a method, how to present something in a beautiful way. In the beginning it takes a lot of focus and questioning to understand art, to form your brain into seeing beyond what is presented to the naked eye. When you're used to observing, learning, even making art, you'll be conditioned to see beyond. You'll get used to using all of your senses and from those input, something within you is provoked. Be it thoughts, emotions, feelings. 
Art is meant to be provoking, it stimulates you to form abstract ideas, it inspires. Art is an expression used to bring beauty and inspiration to life, in turn it will invoke further beauty and inspiration, creative ideas to form even more art. 
Don't limit yourself into thinking, 'I can't paint, I can't do art'. Sure paintings, sculptures, visual arts, performing arts, literature, those are what considered as art. Then again, if you see a bed of flowers on your way to work that gives you a pleasant feeling that lingers through your shift. If you found and see something as beautiful and it leaves you feeling some type of way. Congratulations, that's called aesthetics or philosophy of art. Anything and everything that inspires, invoke a certain feeling, gives you creative drive, that's art; and that is beautiful. 
Though I've strayed away from my dream of being an artist and going to art school, I never let go of how art shaped me and my philosophy. Holding on to my habit of seeing the beauty in everything definitely helped me got through some of my difficult days in college. I made some mistakes though, I only see the beauty and good despite the obvious red flags. Definitely put me through certain predicaments that wouldn't have happened if only I was more realistic. Sometimes I was too stubborn to be realistic, I was a dumb optimist that only see the good and beauty even when the subject is major sus. Anyways, if it weren't for those mistakes I wouldn't have formed a more critical and balanced way of being an optimist, seeing the beauty in everything, and still being objective and evidence based. After all, I was lucky enough to fail evidence based medicine block twice so I got to learn it over and over again. 
Pretty sure me failing EBM block have a lot to do with my inability to quickly memorize and apply critical appraisal theories and research methods, and less to do with objective thinking, but I digress. Critical appraisal is the heart of evidence based medical practice and I've found it useful to see through which research paper are actually applicable. 
Anyways, I once written in a motivational essay to apply to an exchange program, my goal in medical school is to rediscover the art of medicine and re-incorporating humanity into my medical practice. It sounds so pretentious, I know, but holding on to that goal really helped me get through long shifts and difficult days, and hey it helped me pass the selection for the program.
Even though my day to day revolves around medicine, which subjectively deemed as something logical. It wasn't until I go back to my artistic roots of abstract thinking and perceiving beauty that I finally found happiness in my line of work; somewhat practicing my own art of medicine. So to me happiness is beauty, because everything has its own appeal to be beautiful. Finding those appeal, helped me broaden my perspective, kept me balanced, and inspired me to feel, to think, to create.
Here's a disclaimer though, when you're depleted of serotonin, your way of thinking gets distorted. Inspiring thoughts and perception of beauty is virtually very difficult to invoke when you're depressed. Clinical assessments and intervention does help me a lot in going back to my roots, as I'm healing and regaining more balance within my life, beauty is also easier to find. They have a two way causal relation, the more balanced I am the easier it is to perceive beauty and vice versa. The easier it is for me to find beauty, in turn, happiness in little things- let alone big ones. 
To this day, I kept an index of things I find beautiful and brings me so much happiness, I'm grateful to say the list is ever growing. When I'm feeling uninspired and about to spiral into a down episode, I open that list to remind myself that it will pass and I will find even more beautiful things if I keep on going.
So I will pass on the question to you, what is happiness to you?
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Long Overdue
Things really don't go according to plan sometimes
For no reason, or maybe, for a reason unbeknownst
The disappointment makes it real and heavy enough
Cause that feeling of losing control eats you clean
But really, if you think of it that way, things will lose it's beauty
There's a certain beauty in chaos, losing grip, no control
No way to predict what happens next, and that humane desperation
Because of fear, anxiety, disappointment, any other feelings that came after
The fire burning in one's heart and mind, in despair, through passion
The stubbornness to get back on track
It's so human, it's so real and vulnerable
An adult version of a crying toddler who fell of their bike for the first time
The frustration when realizing, it's not working out
Through scraped knees and teary eyes, pick up that bike
Start pedaling, focus on the track
Just like a toddler, when they fall again, and again
There might be this instilled fear from continuous pain
If a toddler is stubborn enough, to brave through the pain, so they could ride a bike
To feel the wind rushing through their puffy damp face from too much crying
Whether it's their innocence or oblivion that made them this way, it's admirable
If they're stubborn enough, why can't we
Why do we give up out of frustration, even if we fall we just have to get back up and try again
If it hurts too much then go eat ice cream and sit on the grass
As we grow older, why are we scared of losing control
Ironically, the source of our omnipotence as an adult is the bravery unlike any other kid
Don't lose that admirable trait of courage to get back up again and again
Just because this fear of losing control, when it's never there in the first place
It's not very humane in the first place to fully be in control
So just let it go, it's long overdue
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rark-journey · 3 years
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i love how this picture perfectly captures how the sun’s ray bounced off of the water.... THE GOLDEN SPARKLES
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Tenderness
I sat in front of my desk, tired eyes, sore back
I stretch my arms as memories pass
I smiled at the tenderness felt from nostalgia
The long tired nights of reading endless chapters
The bright early mornings of heavy head and half shut eyes in the lecture hall
The wanton days of running around laughing in the hallways
The warmth on your cheeks as you lean to the car window
The faint music sounds drowned in chatter and laughter
The golden sun's ray bouncing off of your friends hair
The trinkle on their eyes as they laugh so hard their diaphragm almost gave up
The weak knees and trembling legs after a long hike
The fresh salty smell of the beach and the too sticky sands between your toes
The way the waves crash into the shore and the sounds it made as it drew back
The glorious smoky smell of grilled seafood as the sun sets
The splash of orange, blue, pink, purple, all over the sky
The muted bass sounds from the loud speakers
The stale cigarette smoke clouding in the air
The bitter taste of whatever that was poured into the glass down your throat
The sleepless nights staring at the bright starry space
The silent conversations with the full moon and it's mocking bow
The wind rattling your windows and the sound of rain from the rooftops
The fresh air filling your lungs even when you're barely gasping
That lightness dancing around your skin after a long run
The thrill of long road trips through unfamiliar roads
The moments you have invested your full attention to
The sadness you fully felt within your deepest layer
The warmth and tenderness that helped you see through the veil of experiences
The days you felt most alive
The nights you barely felt human
The years you spent no longer looking nor seeking, but living
I let a chuckle pass me as I nod to myself
I did well, I'll do it again
For as long as I can
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rark-journey · 3 years
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Water Level
What's the next big thing? What's your plan after this? Which department do you plan to go to? Where are you going to work? It has now become a template question after a short moment of celebrating a grand victory, and they expect you to give an answer, an absolute one. Like if it were all up to you, you would rather sell seashells by the shore instead of slaving away in the service industry in this capitalist wasteland.
There's no ill intention behind it though, of course, it's a kind gesture of showing that they care about your ambitions and it's sweet really, the way people genuinely wish you luck and pray for you. It fills me up with warmth, if it weren't for the complex reasoning behind why we glorify ambition and achievements so much.
To be honest, when I see someone with great ambition and when they truly show their grit towards reaching that goal, I feel proud for them. Good for you, for believing in yourself, and that's the greatest trait of it all. They're like an unshakeable tree with deep strong roots, reaching and growing. You know that pleasant feeling when you see giant trees towering over you in the forest? That's the same feeling I get when seeing other people who are reaching their goal.
Made me think, too far, too much, on how this world is not so bad after all. If there are still people who care so much about contributing into society, that they thrive each day, that they get up and try again and again to be the best version of themselves, then we still have hope.
Somedays, it's the only definition of hope that I know of.
I should be celebrating, I should be basking in my own glory after conquering a major achievement. But alas, I've felt the prodorme for a while now, thought it was a high wave I could ride on for a week perhaps, a sense of endless euphoria and the grandoire feeling of being in a manic state. I digress, it was the opposite.
Again, I know there aren't any ill intentions, but the endless questions about my future further drowns me in a riptide of fear. I know, it's all just in my head, that's literally the whole concept of mental illness, it's all in the brain, the neurotransmitters to be exact, damn you sarah and toe nans. But from knowing my current state of mind and expressing it without pretense, without romantization, I somehow got even more blessings than I expected.
It came in the form of supportive friends, erasing my doubts that I endlessly feel towards myself. It came in the form of reassurance, it came in the form of a reality slap that I've come this far.
Then again, it's not like I'm not grateful, but when the episode comes, I can't just shake it off without diving in first. After sleepless nights, I decided to just enjoy the sceneries down here and take some time for myself. Disregarding corporate measured productivity and my parents vain hope of having an ambitious neurotypical child; I would, instead, stay in bed a little longer each morning, eat whatever I feel like eating despite it having slighty higher glucose contents than my usual meal, i would cry in the middle of washing dishes because I just feel like it. I decided to spoil myself to a cryfest because it feels good.
It feels good to cry, it feels good to feel.
I know it for sure, because this episode is a result of a past episode that rises from a similar situation that were so painful it left me dead inside.
I shiver just thinking about it, if I were to analogize my depressive episode as diving under water, those days were like as if I were stuck in the Mariana's trench, against my own will but I had no energy to fight back, barely had enough to rise to the surface and that took way too long than usual.
It was frustrating, but I can't change it, like going through the same water level in Super Mario again and again and again. Where you ran out of lives because of the lack of air, before you even started the level. Easier if you were just to give up the game, but what about Princess Peach then? How will we save her from Bowser if we give up? But we can't seem to get through the level. See, frustrating.
I lived my days, without life, there's no trace of my breath in the wind around me. I weren't even aware that there were winds around me in the first place. The sky weren't blue or grey when it's about to rain or white from the cloud. The sky were a prison.
I wasn't a 5 foot something girl with too little fat content and decent amount of muscle and tan skin coloured with blue and purple from getting caught in a mosh pit. My body was a meat suit with skeleton that were, somewhat, a prison for my soul.
I wanted to be free, but from what? I used to think from life, but what I was doing wasn't living, I wasn't dying either.
These days, if I were actually dying, I would definitely not do the things I did back then. I would spend time with my loved ones instead and share my last moment surrounded with love and warmth.
So definitely, I wasn't dying, no that's not it.
I wanted to be free from what others expect me to be, perfection, jack of all traits, ambitious, glorious, gifted. I wasn't all that. I'm still not all that, but I am more. I am alive, breathing, and most importantly; I am living.
I am no longer just coping , or barely living alongside my illness, but I am living in harmony with it.
With each deep breaths I focus on the small task that will get me through the day, even if all that I can do today is take care of myself, that's alright. Even if the sky is not vividly blue, at least it's no longer a prison.
It's still the same water level with the same groovy music, equally as frustrating, but the difference is I have learned to strategize. When will Mario catch his breath, or when to kill the goombas, when to shoot the turtles. We're finishing the water level, slowly but surely.
Currently, I have no intention to calculate how many ways I can reach my goal, I don't even know my main goal besides to fully live and be present each day.
Naturally, like any other Gen Z going through quarter life crisis overlapped with existential crisis overlapped with silent unhealed traumas, I went on the internet and took some personality quizzes. There's just something about reading about yourself on a computer screen that's just so healing. Since I'm currently transitioning from college era to work era, I decided to take a DISC test. Didn't even bother researching about what it looks for, how it's implemented, how it's quantified, I just wanted to know which letter I'm dominant at.
I wasn't disappointed nor surprised when it tells me, my dominant trait is Steady, the second one is Influence, and I didn't even bother with what C stands for, but I'm lacking in Drive.
Yeah we been knew, the currenly depressed manic depressive girl with adhd is lacking drive, it's almost comical in the most textbook way.
So I reflected on it, the whole day, the whole night. I told myself, 'You know what, it has some truth to it. I do have drive but not towards things that could be a casual conversation starter'. When I imagine my future, I don't imagine a big mansion with luxurious cars, a big name with long tittles from years of academical excellence, I simply see an older version of me whose truly living. Vague, yes, sounds very pretentious, yes, but on brand? totally.
See it this way, if I didn't have drive I wouldn't have been alive. So I do, to some extent, have drive. Just, not towards quantifiable things.
I decided to erase my own doubts, sure, I have the capacity to be a prolific person, and I hope I can deliver. Keeping in mind that I have to be fully present, fully living, even when I'm depressed, even when I'm manic, no other goal matters than to live. It's already difficult enough, so there shouldn't be shame in it. I shouldn't be ashamed of it.
I guess, from now on, I would answer any question regarding the future with 'who knows as long as I'm alive, I'm good' and accept that I'm meant to have a different kind of ambition.
A new set of even broader horizon have made itself presentable, just like in a video game when you defeat the final boss and a new world map is unlocked. But do we waste every level with it's own unique gameplay because of the upcoming final boss? Exactly, we dont, we put our focus and attention to each level. Just like our daily lives, where there might now be giant turtle lizard waiting at the end of the castle or underwater levels with groovy music, but each day there are plenty of things we could focus on. Even if it's as small as figuring which shade of blue the sky is today.
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rark-journey · 3 years
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gimana cara ngeliat answerlu nanti ya rak?
kalo gw post answernya, nanti keliatan di blog kok
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Ayam, ayam apa yang bisa ngeyakinin org?
ayam yakiniku
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Getting Sidetracked
Procrastination is one of the things that feels good while doing it, actually, never mind. It only feels good when one completely ignore the looming sense of deliberately avoiding their responsibility due to some reasons they might not understand. Usually, perfectionist and people with neurodiversity, contributes the most to the global running record time of how many hours spent on everything else besides 'The Main Task'. Their personal procrastination record time might even be significant enough to shift the data distribution, what I'm saying is that it's probably counted as outliers.
I'm not even going to point out anymore how every  sentences I write, tend to be compound-complex sentences with multiple dependent clauses. Trust me, if you get a headache just reading it, imagine how it feels to be living in my head; where these tongue-twister sentences is always buzzing like fruit flies... next to a bowl of... fruits... essentially. Setting aside these structural aspect of sentences, it's also a real example how easily it is to be sidetracked. In that context, I may have overcompensate my effort to deliver an abstract thought perfectly ; through a deliberate linguistic process; with the tendency to over explain. This might as well be a Gr*mmarly advertisement because that sentence is grammatically correct, but it's wordy and hard to read.
Anyways, I'm getting sidetracked.
This is not an exact theory that could comprehensively explain how a lot of things could lead to procrastination. No buts, just a disclaimer. What exactly goes through someone's mind when they procrastinate? they might not feel like doing it because they're already burnt out from planning on doing the thing or they might be under stimulated to even begin the task. Starting something does take a lot of mental effort, for perfectionists especially, cause they will not half-ass whatever it is that they're going to do. 
***
From this moment on, 'Task' will be divided into three Phases. 
Pre-Task Phase
Pre-task, that is the preparation prior doing the actual task. We have a concept in our head of how things are supposed to go, creating a goal for after the completion, then we began to lay down what type of processes are needed to reach this goal. Say, you have an exam coming up, the goal of course is to pass, or get a certain grade, or even just to get this semester over and done with so we could lounge around and bask in the sunlight with no guilt of not studying. As basic logic goes, if you want to answer a question you must be equipped with the knowledge of the subject; so naturally in your head, you would create plans to study the syllabus.
Everyone have different studying methods, it could be reading text books, discussing the topic over with a study group, get extra tutoring sessions, watch crash course youtube videos, sleep with said textbook as a pillow so the materials could osmosis it's way to your braincell. Though, this is not the time to execute these methods yet, the idea of the method have merely popped up in the brain.
Procrastination could begin in this pre-task phase. One could easily get lost in their own head when setting initial goal -it. needs. to. be. perfect. To whatever standard they uphold- Or when they breakdown action steps, because they know what they're supposed to do, but they're not in a perfect enough condition for it to go well. Even though, you could... grow as you go. Breaking down the schedule could also get difficult, because there might not be enough time becauss there are so much to do for it to be perfect.
Then we organize these methods to fit a certain schedule or timeline. If it's an end of semester final exam, then you would have all semester to divide these studying plans. One could create an intricately organized and detailed daily, even hourly schedule; or one could just wing it and set weekly or monthly goals with more sporadic agenda; some could even be the 'plan as they go' type.
There's only one way to avoid procrastination in this phase and it all comes down to the basic, set realistic goals. When you have an achievable goal -let's face it, perfection is rarely achievable, it's too abstract to even be calculated anyways- it's easier to process the actions needed to be taken within your capacity and time limit. It is less stressful that way. Acknowledging your capacity and limit as a human would also help with flexibility, especially when you're behind schedule for whatever reason. It's realistic, it's healthy, and it's human.
These preparations before doing the action itself already sounds exhausting. I'm definitely not the type to get excited about planning, and would consider myself the latter type. Most of the time I don't have a certain goal, it's just to do my best and get the best out of things, so for the most part this doesn't really cause a mental strain.
Action Phase
Here comes the actual 'Task' or 'Action'. I don't know how to explain this phase, it's basically just executing what you have planned to reach your goal. Nothing profound in trying to define action besides, it's just when you do things, yeah well... duh. The magnitude of action varies from person to person. Some people have magnificent cognitive function and could find the most efficient way to do a task. Some don't have the mental energy to strategize so they might just do things mostly with their senses. Some people are resilient and could keep their grind through sickness and health till death do us part.
The actual Action phase, is simple, it's just... action. However, completion is also part of this phase that most stumble on. One could follow through their plan and make it till the end of the process towards completion, disregarding the result whether it being perfect, up to their goal, or subpar. One could also fall off the wagon in the middle and ended up not completing the task. This, in my opinion, have a lot to do with mental strain and burnout. Some people might not have the energy to follow through a lengthy project; they could just be the type to pull a Herculean effort in a shorter period of time, rather than a moderate amount of effort for a long time. Especially people with Neuro divergence, it's difficult to regulate executive function. It mentally takes a lot for them to keep doing the same thing over and over again, it's very under-stimulating. They could either over or underwork themselves given the circumstances.
The other thing is that one could also get too worked up over their own pace. Being behind schedule is very anxiety inducing and it may feel like you're losing control of yourself. Is there anything that you could do about it though? If not then slowly learn to accept this as a setback and take a break. Being aware of your own mental condition is a part of human multiple intelligences; in the emotional domain. Knowing when to take breaks is another way to regain control when you're losing it. Taking a break also help you to ground yourself, rethink your goal, whether it's still realistic with your current condition. After taking a break, with an already clear and calm mind you could just try again.
Starting something, is already hard. Let alone dedicating oneself to keep the spirit and actually going through till the end. Once you gain momentum, the machine would run well, but keeping that momentum takes a whole different type of dedication, especially since you're NOT a machine. Remember that, you're a human being. Taking action and staying on the grind for 24/7 is not healthy. I don't actually know the actual grand design of a human person, but I'm pretty sure it's not for working 24/7 right.
One thing people probably won't talk about is giving up though. Giving up can mean a lot of things, changing your already realistic initial goal in one way or another is also considered giving up. It's giving up an idea that you're the same person as when you started or even before you started a task, just at a different scale from totally dropping the whole thing. Now why is giving up a part of 'The Action Phase'? Because it's a whole'nother level of courage to give up. That's fine, priorities change, people change, circumstances change, and in some paths there could be obstructions that renders one from going further, or maybe even it's the end of it. There are just some tasks that are not to be completed, and forcing yourself to go on might do more bad than good.
Final Phase
We've finally made it to the final phase, let's call it 'After'. This phase is underrated, we don't put much thinking into it as much as the previous phases. This is usually when we finish a task, then we get our result. The result could meet our expectations, short of it, or even go above and beyond our initial goal. Regardless, we celebrate, we mourn, then we move on to the 'next thing'. Endless boulder, blablabla insert another Albert Camus The Myth of Sisyphus reference here. Look, listen, some people don't get resolution after this phase alright, and it contributes a lot to procrastination when doing the 'next thing'.
Evaluating ourselves is not an easy task, how do one even start? One could easily over criticize or under criticize oneself. Life is not a dichotomy though, we just lack perspective to give ourselves an adequate amount of constructive criticism. Most of us don't eat metaphysical sandwich for breakfast so not all of us are born with the ability to reflect. Having peers or authoritative figure to give criticism -note : actual constructive helpful criticism- and their perception on your development actually helps a lot in building an index of outside perspective. It help train your brain to avoid tunnel vision.
Depending too much on external judgement is also not good, in this house we slander dichotomy and stan grey area. You could get lost in other's expectation and perception of yourself. After all, no one knows ourselves better than, well, ourselves. This is where you have to learn to reflect. Surely, in the action phase -unless you're dissociating the whole time- you're aware of yourself. Which areas you find difficult in executing, which areas you're lacking on, when you feel comfortable, when you feel uncomfortable, what excites you, what underwhelms you.
From these external criticism combined with your internal experience, you could start be more aware of what each task and action brings into your life. After all, what are goals and achievements if not experiences to learn more about ourselves? I think that's what gives the infinity present of our lives meaning, and not just fleeting moments in the vast passage of time. That got too philosophical real quick.
***
As usual, there's no conclusion, take what you need or not at all. I'm literally just procrastinating my main task while writing this article, now back to work.
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rark-journey · 3 years
Text
Path
Though life have changed for me
When they say time heal all wounds
There's a little bit of lie behind it
Even if I owe my recovery to time
It will still pass even when I don't
Maybe it's my choice that lead me here
I felt the grief for my younger self
When she couldn't bare to live another day
Felt grateful that she still tried to
I no longer feel that way
Each night that passes is a blessing from heaven
Each morning I wake with the sun is a bliss
Even in sadness I'm happy
Especially in happiness, I yearn
There's one thing that stuck out
Like a splinter, only unforeseen
It's a mystery to me of how diverse it is
It got me thinking through night and day
Maybe when I thought Love and Hate are opposite end of the same spectrum I was wrong
Maybe hate is the outer defensive layer of a deeper form of love
At both end of the spectrum are ignorance and fondness
I don't believe anyone could be inherently hateful
I refuse to believe that this beautiful world is dealing with such fate
Though I do believe that people choose to love as they choose to hate
They just don't choose to whom they pour these feelings into
Then again, it's either you hate too much or love too much
It doesn't matter if I'm right or not
Nothing is ever set in stone
One thing is, I choose to live
If this is the way my life goes
I should just bravely walk alongside fate
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rark-journey · 3 years
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Fuck your so called "bisexuality".
i’ll fuck your mom and dad
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rark-journey · 3 years
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