Wake Up. Dream Is Over. May 3, 2008

My blogging hiatus are getting longer and longer. It’s hard to write when you’re distracted by other things (like stalking people online) or when your heart is just not in it (when you eventually find out the people you’re stalking are turning out to be already married or dating someone else).
 
Not much has happened in the past month except that three weeks ago I started temping at a suburban Cath0lic school for girls. Surprisingly it’s been a very pleasant experience, which I will treasure for years to come as one of the best working experiences of my life.
 
At this position I have had my very own office with large windows, which look out onto a green grassy courtyard lined with trees and invite sunshine to pour in abundantly into the room. On bright, sunny days it’s almost like working outside.
 
I’ve also been blessed with the opportunity to work independently without the unpleasant discomfort of frequent human interactions or telephone calls. All day long I quietly labor at my desk, putting the few assets that I have to offer – mainly my organizational, formatting and proofreading skills- to good use. It’s a dream come true for a socially anxious introvert like me!
 
For once in my life I don’t mind coming to work every morning. I love the vast, beautiful and serene greenery of the campus. Each day on my walk from the metro, I stop by a wooden bridge and peek through the white-flowered branches that uncover the little brook running below. Every time I peek into the picture perfect frame, I feel as though I am peering into a hidden pathway to a secret world that looks like heaven. I pause and take a breath of fresh air, listening to the birds sing and imagining myself to be in a secluded forest, away from cars, roads and modern buildings. Nature is truly a sight to behold. During those moments of stillness I forget the world and almost feel peace within myself.
 
Sadly all good things must come to an end. I had hoped to stay at this job permanently, but after recently speaking with the human resource manager about what the position would entail were it to become permanent, I now doubt that will happen. As it turns out, if they hired me I would be required to perform tasks that would require extensive interpersonal contact and coordination, something which I know in my heart I simply could not be comfortable – or competent – doing. (The last thing I’d want is to be let go again because of my inability to interact with people.)
 
And so I will be here probably for another couple of weeks or so. I am sad to go, yet I know I wouldn’t be happy if I could no longer work independently. As much as I cringe at the idea of being back on the job hunt again (yes, I was foolish to stop looking), I really have no choice. It hurts to know that I had put so much hope into this job and it fell through. It feels so much like deja vu, like a repeat situation of my last job in which I thought everything was going according to plan until suddenly reality hits hard – nothing is as it seems, and I find myself out of a job, confused as to how I could have been so naive, so foolishly hopeful.
 
But how easy it was to think that this “dream” job could last forever. As with everything, I unreasonably and unabashedly hope and dream of the perfect boyfriend, the perfect life, the perfect job. I really did think I had found the perfect job and I really did believe I was going to get it, not because I was optimistic (I’m hardly an optimistic person), but simply because it was part of my fantasy to attain what I considered to be the perfect job situation for me.
 
I guess it’s time to wake up. Dream is over.

On Top of the World December 25, 2007

It’s Christmas, but I’m going to the gym anyway. What a blessing my apartment building houses its own gym. I never have to worry about holiday closings. While people were gobbling down their turkey on Thanksgiving Day, I was sweating it off on the cross master. There are no holidays for the obsessive compulsive exerciser.
 
Since I changed my diet and started working out about two and a half months ago, my body’s gone from flab to fab. At the annual holiday gathering I attended on Saturday, a lot of people couldn’t recognize me. I wowed everyone with my makeover. People thought I had a star’s figure. Wow, a star’s figure. Near perfection.
 
I’m actually not quite there yet (though the outfit I wore may have made it seem like I was). At the rate I’m going I should be there eventually, though. By winter’s end, I’ll have a star’s bikini body (minus the boobs). And by year’s end, maybe I’ll have a fitness model’s body – not the ugly, bulky type, but the lean, toned kind. There’s nothing more amazing than goals that CAN be achieved.
 
I love how my hard work and my dedication are paying off. Seeing tangible results fuels my drive to go farther and farther. It’s in times like these that I feel my best. I feel like I’m on top of the world, in control of my life. Last year I was terribly depressed, ready to put an end to it all, because I had no reason to live, no reason to fight, no reason to hope.
 
What a huge difference it makes to have something to look forward to, something to live for. Envisioning the dream body I want and seeing it get closer and closer within my reach is what’s helping me keep going. To some it may be a stupid, shallow reason for living, but to me it means so much. Because I can exercise full control over some aspect of my existence, the world no longer seems like such a scary, hostile, impossible place to live in. In the bubble I live in, I reign queen.

Exercise Diary #6 – I Must Exercise As Often and As Hard I Can November 12, 2007

I’ve been exercising practically every day in a very intense fashion. I have become so obsessed with exercise that it has become the center of my existence.
 
Is exercise replacing the void once filled by my ex, I wonder?
 
—————– 
 
I feel the need to exercise as often and as hard I can because …
 
A healthy diet is worthless without exercise
 
I’m terribly bored and don’t know what else to do
 
Exercise distracts me from my negative thoughts
 
Exercise makes me forget how lonely I am (while I’m doing it)
 
Exercise helps me think more clearly
 
Exercise gives me a much needed boost of energy
 
Exercise gives me the control and power to change the way I look
 
Exercise gives me a sense of purpose in life
 
I need a strong point of focus in my life to keep myself together
 
I need to feel PASSION about something
 
I need to give my entire body, heart, mind and soul to something in order to feel alive
 
I’m hurting inside and exercise makes me feel better afterwards 
 
Pushing my body as far it will go makes me feel high
 
Riding on the high that comes with intense exercise makes me feel powerful
 
The soreness that comes the day after I exercise feels good
 
I (still) don’t like the way I look
 
I want faster, more immediate results 
 
I am ready to sacrifice everything to achieve the dream body I desperately want
 
I want to show others that I can accomplish this
 
I can’t wait to impress people with my new super fit, super toned figure
 
I want to show to this girl I am jealous of (who hasn’t seen me for years) that I (still) look twice as good as she does (she used to be fat, but now she looks thin and fit)
 
If I don’t exercise I feel terribly guilty
 
If I don’t exercise I feel like a failure
 
If I don’t exercise I feel worthless and empty
 
If I don’t exercise all my efforts will have been in vain
 
If I don’t exercise those who know I’ve embarked on this mission will laugh at me for not following through with my plans and goals
 
And if I can’t succeed in accomplishing my goals, I’ll never be able to show my face again to people who knew me back when I was still thin and beautiful

The Quest for Beauty November 8, 2007

Six years ago, I was what people considered stunning. My looks (not to mention my dancing) made me popular in the dance circle I associated with. Back then I was young, I was thin, I was fit, I was beautiful, I was stylish, I was hip. Admired by many, I stood in the circle’s limelight and I loved every minute of it.
 
Fast forward to three years later when I began my gradual descent into fugliness and nothingness. I no longer belonged to a circle in which potential admirers were to be had; hence the need to impress was gone and with it went the motivation to look good. Feeling worthless, I sunk into a spiraling depression and stopped taking care of myself. Why bother, I thought? No one cares what I look like.
 
I couldn’t go back to the dancing circle because I had been away from it much too long. All this time my peers had been toiling away on their dancing. If I returned, I knew they would be at a far higher level of dancing than I was. I couldn’t take the humiliation associated with being of a lower status, so I never dared show my face to them again.
 
The more unattractive I became, the more difficult it was to look at myself in the mirror. It hurt to think back to the glory and the beauty of my lost youth. There I was at age 27, already old, fat, ugly, pathetic, and undesirable. I was both disgusted and angry with myself for reaching such lows, but I was too depressed and hopeless to dig myself out of my self-inflicted misery.
 
Last mid-August I broke up with my boyfriend of nearly three years. Though I spent a month grieving over him, I recovered relatively quickly. Then three weeks ago, out of the blue, I made the decision to turn my life around and get my looks back. I thought that if I were pretty again, maybe people would notice me and think that I was pretty. Determined to change the public opinion of me (with the hope that it would raise my self-esteem), I embarked on a quest to lose weight, get fit, and look my absolute best.
 
Since then I’ve made leaps and bounds. Much to my excitement, I look noticeably thinner and younger. Still I am not happy. There’s so much more to be done. Physical perfection (or close to it) must be attained for people to take notice. I’m not looking for a man; that is not the purpose of all this. I just want people to look at me and honestly think I’m beautiful – not cute as a button, but truly beautiful. And I want them to tell me so so that I may then go home, look at myself in the mirror, and say, “yes, indeed I am beautiful.”
 
Only then will my efforts not be in vain. Only then will I fully be satisfied.

Secret Crush October 29, 2007

I need some excitement in my life. I need a man. A boyfriend would be nice. Someone with whom I could curl up in bed right now. Someone who would tickle the sole of my feet and whisper sweet nothings to me from under the covers.
 
Wishful thinking (sigh).
  
I do have a new secret crush, though. A celebrity. He reminds me of someone I was head over heels in love with once upon a time, an old friend of mine who looked just like him.
 
The celebrity I am hopelessly crushing on like a teenage girl has boyish good looks. Sometimes during the day, and every night before I fall asleep, I imagine I’m looking into his dreamy blue eyes and he’s talking to me with that irresistible little smirk of his that makes me melt, melt, melt, like chocolate in the warm palm of a hand. I love the sound of his voice. In it there isn’t a trace of nasal flatness, but only soft, seductive raspiness like sexy blues music. I have yet to meet an American, who isn’t an actor, with that rare kind of voice. I could fall in love with a man by the mere sound of his voice, especially if he knew how to use it to speak beautiful words.
 
Daydreaming about my crush makes me feel so fuzzy inside. I can’t recall the last time I ever felt like this. Though it may seem silly to desire someone whom I’ll never meet, I don’t really care. I just want to have someone to think about again, someone to smile about, someone to talk to in secret when I need to be loved. And above all, someone I can have all to myself in my heart and in my dreams forever and ever (until the next crush replaces him).