| | I am overwhelmed to the point that I find myself unable to breathe. My sleep is disturbed, and I have as many nervous breakdowns as I did during first semester finals. And worst of all is I have no clue why it's happening like this.
I tend to complain a lot in this space. It's the reason I got one of these things in the first place. In real life, life outside of the computer and outside of my personal space, I am more of a no one than I am here. I've come to terms with the fact that my ethnic mask places me in a particular role, and more often than not I am happy to play the part of that quiet guy who shrinks into the background and doesn't talk much.
It's easier to hide from it all. To be that one person who goes without notice. It was so easy growing up, when all the other kids grew taller and I stayed the same. I have a tuxedo that we bought in late 1996. It was my uniform for one of the high school choirs I was in, the one I had to buy because at the time I hadn't converted kids' sizes to men's sizes. I still fit in that suit, 12 years later.
It's easy to be that shy, unassuming type when people insult you to your face. In my 4th grade yearbook, there's a guy who signed it in his best faux Chinese restaurant accent. I have no clue why he would do that, but it's a remnant of what I didn't understand about human nature back in the day. But so much went on in my head during that time that looking back on where I've been and who I am, I wonder how I survived.
Back then, the administrators of my elementary and middle school sent me to speech therapy. Growing up in a refugee household, I had learned Mandarin and Cantonese before I learned English. I had (and still have) problems with pronunciation of "ph," "f," "th," "s" and "z" at times. In middle school and high school, the administrators sent me to counseling. As much I thought there were incompetent and careless people teaching and mentoring us during school, these people caught something. I don't know where I'd be had it not been for someone noticing that things were off for me.
When I got to grad school, I wanted to do a project about silence. Despite the musicality of languages that existed in my home as a child, the sound of silence was deafening. It was a house of ghosts, with photos of dead relatives I would never know and that my parents would never talk about. I spent much of those years frightened by the idea that I am part of this legacy of silence. I wondered what my parents saw when they looked at me, and when I look at myself, part of me screams to try and break a silence I can never understand. The silence, profound in its effect, has, as I pursued my educational objectives, traumatized me to my core. A huge part of who I am now is that shattered individual who has resigned himself to being that quiet guy no one notices.
It makes law school that much harder when it reminds me of high school and all the things I hated (and continue to hate) about myself. I can't complain in person, not well at least. Most of the time, it would seem that there's nothing to complain about. I'm enjoying my job, although there are never enough hours in the day to get what I want to do done. If I stop to think about things and complain in person, I feel that I will completely break down. At least here, in this space, I can break down and not have to worry about shattering someone else's preconceived notions in front of their faces. As if anyone really reads these entries any way.
The good thing about moving beyond the last few years, however, is the perspective I've gained. But I've still got a lot of growing up to do. With my birthday coming up next week to remind me how far away the darkest of my days have passed, I'd like to think that I haven't completely given up. But after my "interview" with MAN last week, I feel like I've resigned myself to a life of underachievement. And silence. Which can, if I don't do something about it, traumatize and paralyze me all over again.
Four fast weeks of summer internship done. Six more (at least) jam-packed weeks left. Please accomplish something. |
| | Posted 6/27/2008 2:42 AM - 9 views - 0 comments
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