- I’ve watched so much Korean Drama that I find myself bowing in greeting to old Asian people in public. I mean, nothing extreme, but well-mannered enough.
- Why the fuck did I discover Reese’s Crunchers? I’ve eaten three bags in the past week or so because they won’t stop being on sale.
- Last year I was all about the extensions and fake nails. I gave up the extensions because my hair grew. I’m giving up the nails now because they make leg day hard and I’m amped about getting swole. My basic bitch phase was fun while it lasted. It was fun having my Asian stereotypes kick in for me to do it all myself.
- I have to work on taking the slack out of the bar before I pull for deadlifts. I think I’m going to have to start doing that and then pulling like, an inch or two off the floor and repeating those two steps like an idiot. Everything else is fine. I’m just an asshole with bracing…
- Glamping is a stupid word. Who the fuck started that word? My eye twitches whenever I hear it or even see it. The act itself is also fucking stupid. I’m already not a fan of camping but that shit is ridiculous. Go big or go home. This is why I choose to just stay at home in the first place.
- I decided to try to wear way more makeup than I usually do. It’s not for me. I don’t know what I’m doing. I wear less and less make up the older I get. I found it’s easier to take care of my skin, get my eyebrows and lips tattooed and grow out my eyelashes. Boom. I’m not pretty enough for a natural bare face so I do what I can in the most laziest way possible.
- Oops, my plans are going into motion. This is shorter entry than I was hoping for.
2014 – I tried to take on too much without proper energy or support for it. I wasn’t aware of what was going on or what I was doing and ended up, in a way, giving up on myself. I was struggling real bad without knowing how to cope. I didn’t know how to talk about it because I didn’t really understand what was going on. I was breaking down and fucking up real bad. It was when I was starting to hide from the world and myself. Instead of growing, I was breaking down.
2015, I was in denial about everything that was going on. I was being self-destructive and reckless. I pretended I was having fun when I was feeling empty inside. I knew there was something wrong with me but I didn’t know what it was. I thought I was going crazy at one point. I used a broken friendship to help lie to myself even further. I tried desperately to escape the emptiness without really know how. I was wearing myself thin and feeling emotionally exhausted. I was researching like crazy to figure out why I was the way I was. I hated myself and my body.
2016, I was a shell of a person and felt like I had to start over. I didn’t trust myself anymore but I was starting to get some help. I was seeing a counselor here and there. I started trying to connect with the world again and fumbling. I still didn’t have a sense of self though. I was still trying to escape myself by fucking around. It felt like I was groping around in the dark trying to find something. I had a lot of pent up anger about the way my life was going and didn’t know how to let it out. I was pretty negative. I was really mean to myself. I hated my body. I can’t believe I almost got fucking married to someone who I threw a blender at because that’s how much I started snapping. I went through some heavy family stuff that I had to shoulder and awful support from someone who I was going to get married to. I was really stupid. Oh my god, so stupid.
2017, I finally admitted to myself that I needed help. Like serious help and I had to get over the shame of it. I finally had to come to terms that I was putting myself through a lot because of the trauma that happened to me when I was younger. I couldn’t keep living how I was living anymore. I needed to learn to connect properly and get out of my own head. I started seeing a counselor more seriously and that helped. I was learning to open up. I started sharing myself with the world more instead of just hiding. It felt awkward. It felt weird. I had to do it though. I had to challenge all the bad stuff I convinced myself about myself. Maybe I wasn’t as dumb as I told myself I was all these years. Towards the end of it, I was improving but I still felt empty. I went on anti-depressants and it helped me but didn’t fix me. I snapped in a couple of ways but good ways. I was ready to do good for myself.
2018 was tough. I was going to weekly trauma therapy because I realized what was going on with me was pretty bad. It was so tough because I had to be raw in a way I’d never been in my life. I had to admit and talk about things I’d never told anyone. Suddenly there was an unexpected death that affected me deeply and I found myself crying in a way I’d never done. I had a breakdown that was, in hindsight, a healthy one. I learned how to not repress feelings like I once did. I still wasn’t learning to cope properly. It didn’t help that I got roofied in May and woke up in an alleyway. It was one of the scariest experiences of my life and left a hole in my invincibility shield I thought I had. I dated someone briefly who showed signs of being emotionally abusive. I started to recognize the signs even though I didn’t process them well at the time. At that point, I had stopped seeing my therapist and was off my antidepressants. But I went back to my counselor who helped me with clarity. I was going through some same old experiences but started to cope better. I stopped trying to escape and started opening up to people who made me feel safe about what I was going through. I started to learn things like love and trust properly. I started to believe in the value of myself. I stopped tolerating inconsistency and confusion. My old coping mechanisms were no longer working, no matter how I tried to go back to them. I made the decision to go back on anti-depressants after a bad workplace experience left me shutting down for a good while and I couldn’t even get out of bed. I’m not sure if I’m only going to need them temporarily or forever. I don’t really want to think about it. I’m just glad they’re helping. My friends let me learn not to rush the emotional recovery I needed and I learned to accept their support without feeling like a burden.
2019, I feel more self-oriented than ever. I’m learning to love the body I have even though it’s not as lean as I was chasing to be. I don’t feel the loneliness or emptiness I once have. I don’t escape anymore because I can face things better than I once did. I don’t hide anymore and have learned to show the world who I am because I’ve learned to show it to myself first. I like taking care of myself and have never felt as good as I do lately. It’s only a couple of months in and I’m still an embarrassment but you know, I’m not harsh at myself about it. I don’t drink as often or even close to what I used to. I’m less earnest and am starting to see the world in the way I’d like to see it. I don’t feel like I’m recovering anymore and feel like I’m finally starting to live. I can be myself and not feel like I’m stupid for it. I let other people accept me for me. I’ve got the right kind of love. I recognize what’s the effect of trauma and what’s actually normal. I know who can sit with me and who can’t. I feel like a person.
I’m feeling life.
I know it’s tomorrow but whatever, I write when I want.
I’m a sucker for romantic gestures and I love love but I’m not into Valentine’s Day. I’m not bitter about it or hate it; I just think if that’s the only day you’re doing it properly, you’re doing it wrong. Also, last year really put me off it and I prefer to have it stay that way.
Last year, I spent Valentine’s Day with a dude I met off Tinder the day before. I just didn’t want to spend it alone and it seemed like a good idea since I thought we hit it off. I should’ve known better when I said I like getting flowers and he was pretty much like, yeah yeah, you’ll get them. As Wanda the Owl puts it:
You know, it’s funny; when you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.
It would only be later that I learned that this is how I tend to view any person that I was attracted to and I wasn’t attracted to the best of people. It took a long time to learn this lesson and at the time, I didn’t even learn it after this Valentine’s Day mishap. I’m smarter now though.
He came over with two bottles of wine and roses. Receiving the roses didn’t bring the joy I wanted because he wasn’t exactly romantic about it. He also brought over a new bottle of Astroglide in a bag that was also full of condoms. It was wishful ambition from him since we only did it once that night. The lube stayed in its box because, sex tip, water-based lube ONLY. No one wants a yeast infection and that’s what glycerin does to your sex parts when it gets up in there.
Honestly, the guy was a douche. He was such a negative person and was so boohoo about the circumstances of his life. I was trying to be understanding because he lost his mother that past year and I can see how that could affect him. He felt so sorry for himself and even when I was trying to be nice about it, he was low-key making criticisms at me as a deflect. Everything that came out of his mouth was a complaint. Towards the end, I wasn’t having much of it. Shit happens, sometimes it’s really bad shit but it’s never a reason to shit on others because you’re feeling shitty. Brooding is some annoying shit and I don’t have the capacity to allow that type of negative shit. I also have a tendency to shut it down by calling out people for this bullshit and for some reason, it ends up with them in tears and feeling sorry for themselves.
This time was no different. He ended up welling up in tears and pretty much rushing out of my place, leaving behind the bag of condoms and lube. All of which I ended up throwing out since I had no use for them. I wasn’t sure how to react to what was going on so I think I just finished off the bottle of wine and went to sleep.
I haven’t had much luck with Valentine’s Day in a long ass time. This year I’m just going to do what I’ve been doing lately, which is watch a shit ton of Korean Drama and eat chocolate.
To be honest though, since I haven’t had sex or any form of it this year, I thought I’d be somewhat sexually frustrated and try to pursue something. But so far, I’m still maintaining abstinence by choice. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not celibate. It’s not for lack of trying. I just have no interest in anyone in my current line of vision and so far, I’m okay with that. It sounds stupid but in the past, it wasn’t something that was easy for me to say. Things have been falling into place by just living and trusting the process and the same applies to here as well.
(From the archives. I wrote this on April 28, 2018. I think it’s one of my better-written pieces.)
He had an ex-wife when we met…
When I met …Dirk last year, he was on a comedy tour in Canada.
The night that I saw him, I was doing open mic at my old neighborhood pub. It was probably my third time doing it and it was okay. It’s always okay for me when I get a few laughs. It made me confident enough to try a more serious open mic the night after where I bombed so fucking painfully that it still makes me cringe and grimace to think about it.
We didn’t talk that night. I saw his face when my old roommate yelled at him to “Turn around! I want to see if you’re hot or not!”. He turned around and he was handsome. I thought this while the roommate made it verbally clear by yelling it out. She may have tried to wink at him and almost fell over. He gave a smirk and turned away while I tended to the drunk roommate.
I met him the night after when it turned out we were sitting beside each other at the bar, during open mic, the one where I bombed so fucking painfully. I recalled him as “Mr. Turnaround” to which he introduced himself as Dirk. He was definitely older than me but still had that youthful look to him and such a great smile. Handsome is the way I describe his attractiveness.
The night ended up with me back at his hotel room because he seemed pretty sweet and I wanted to keep looking at his smile. I learned he was from LA, separated, originally from Ecuador and speaks fluent Spanish. He had two kids who were closer to my age than I was his, one of whom was autistic. There was this gentleness to him and he tried to warm me up to him about it like a safe space and it was a nice gesture but I wasn’t really into it. I could sense a bit of brokenness so I tried to connect with that instead. It was a pretty good night together before I had to go to work the next day.
He came back a few months later for another tour and he wanted to meet up. I wasn’t sure in what context and I wasn’t down to hook up so I was a bit evasive about meeting but when he dropped the bomb that his ex-wife had committed suicide, I decided to be a friend. He told me he was in shock and not good form. He just wanted to be around someone and feel a bit of comfort. I’m a softie for being supportive when someone needs it so I moved my day around to meet up with him for a bit.
He wanted me to hold him, so I did. He held my hand and tried to kiss me a few times. He just wanted comfort and I did my best to give it to him. He hinted at sex and that’s where I drew the line. I wasn’t going to fuck him to comfort but I would be there how I could. I felt for the guy. He and his ex-wife were together for a long time and I know how it is to lose someone you cared about to suicide. It’s an ugly thing to go through and I didn’t want him to feel like he had to go through it alone, even if it was just for a little bit. He told me even though they weren’t together, it still hurt.
He recently came back to the city for another tour and we’d been trying to coordinate plans to meet but our schedules didn’t match up. I deleted Instagram to focus on my writing and forgot that was our only form of communication. I talked about going to one of his shows so I just figured I’d do that and it’d be the same thing. We could exchange numbers there and keep in touch that way.
He looked surprised to see me. I wasn’t expecting his act on stage either. He talked about his wife and how he’s now widowed. He talked about how hard it was to meet people because the last time he had to, it was with pagers and beepers. I’ve seen his act a couple of times and he’s never used his wife in them until now. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe he was selling his act on his dead wife even though in the past year he made it clear he was separated.
I felt pretty grossed out at what I was witnessing. I couldn’t believe he dug for laughs. After he was done, he came over to say hello and went in for a hug. I gave a quick one and when I let go, I gave him quick eye contact that made my feeling pretty clear and told him I was leaving.
This happened pretty recently and I’ve been thinking about it on and off. I think about when I saw him when he found out about the news. I think about the act I saw. I think about how he tried to use me for it and now he’s using her for his benefit. There was another girl at the show that night who came to see him too. Coincidentally enough, we were sitting beside each other during the show; I only knew this because he hugged her first and said “I can’t believe you came” before he was surprised to see me. I wonder if she knows the actual story like I do. I didn’t think it was my place to call him out right then and there though. I still don’t.
Some people can be pretty scummy though.
- I managed to make it to the gym this morning where I sweated way more than usual. I took it as a sign that my body was removing, not toxins, but the embarrassment that was my being from Friday. I feel better now.
- I don’t know why, but lately, I’ve been thinking about that time I found myself crying and eating a corndog at a beach in Costa Mesa. This was years ago, I don’t even remember why. My next thought when I think this is always the moment later that night when I got into a fight with G and he stopped me in the middle of my crying and said, “Damn baby, who hurt you so badly?”. Then I cried some more, got more mad then he held me and everything was okay. For the rest of the trip, I called him my retard until we parted ways.
- Last night I had a dream about this guy that I used to really like but we could never get our shit together to get together. We tried though, here and there, for like, six years. In the dream, he told me he was still in love with me and that he was mad at me for not wanting to get together because I wouldn’t let him be my sugar daddy. Which is hilarious because one of my cemented memory of him is the time my friend kicked me out of her car and left me stranded with his super drunk ass. While confessing his love for me, told me he would give me the world if he could but he was in debt. I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of years.
- I’ve realized I have a fear of deadlifts now. Maybe it’s because of my tendency to pee when I go heavy with sumos. I’m struggling with conventional. The strength is there but there’s this invisible barrier I’m not breaking. I don’t have the confidence in them.
- Okay, lame confession. I really want to get better at singing but I’m way too fucking shy to take it seriously and feel like a loser when I do. I legit get this feeling of expecting pointed fingers and snickers from people who can actually sing super well. It’s so embarrassing but damnit… I should at least keep trying and get over this fear. It’s hard to practice at home. I share thin walls with my neighbours.
- Guys, seriously, chicken breasts suck to eat. It’s so boring and bland. I really dislike white meat and prefer darker pieces because they have more flavor and taste better. If the reason people choose white is that it’s healthier, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.
- I’m slowly relearning to read Vietnamese by accidentally discovering this channel that makes BTS (AND SUPER JUNIOR!) clips with both English and Vietnamese subtitles. It’s wild that I can get it.
- Random dumb fact about me: I wash my hair with different rice than the one I use to cook. I do this about 3-4 times a week.
SUNDAY VIBES LIKE
I went on a sort of date yesterday that ended in a disaster but in a funny at my expense kind of way. We met the night that I went to the strip club solo and he said something to me that I’ve thought about a few times. He said I’m the type of girl who likes to have her own kind of fun and needs someone on that level or can handle it. I think it’s true. I agreed to the hangout for that reason. I don’t think I would’ve otherwise because I probably wouldn’t have considered otherwise.
I shouldn’t have started the night at home drinking soju and singing songs to my friend on video chat with my awesome new microphone. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
I thought we were going bowling when he picked me up but we ended up going to a pub so he could eat. I wasn’t planning on drinking and was going to order a Diet Coke but since he was the only one eating and was gonna order wine, I decided I didn’t want to want to be a dink awkwardly drinking pop. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
I figured a couple of glasses too couldn’t hurt. It was interesting to get to know him because he’s been through some shit this past year too. We’re both at this stage of figuring out shit out after some rough shit. I felt him even though he was trying to be super chill about it. I wasn’t prepared for him ordering another bottle of wine and at that point, was too caught up in conversation. If I’m not careful, I end up being a disaster. My disaster drunk can be funny but it’s never cute. It’s usually pretty embarrassing and last night was no different. I ended up blacking out because I can’t have nice things. The last thing I remember was him taking away my gold microphone when I tried to show it to him. Yes, I really did bring it with me.
I woke up to a brutal fucking hangover that turned me into a piece of shit who couldn’t do anything all day. Red wine is now off my list of things I can drink. I’m getting old, I can’t handle these hangovers like this anymore. He left me a message saying he carried me in and that I take care of myself. Well, that was nice of him. I was pretty embarrassed but he was super chill about it and told me, “Relax, shit happens”. But then he told me about what happened after he carried me inside and that would explain the mess I left that I was confused about in the morning. I’m not going to recall it here because I’m still groaning at myself about it. Even then he told me to relax and that shit happens.
We’re probably not going to hang out again. He’s chill but we didn’t vibe. I appreciate that I got to know him a bit though and how he’s dealing with his rough shit.
He still can’t remember my name. He calls me Jasmine and I just go along with it.
My microphone arrived. I’m digging it so far except for that it’s fucking loud when you turn it on or off. There’s no way to get around this so that’s kind of annoying but other than that, it’s pretty good. Let the serenading no one asked for begin!
I’m getting my squat confidence back. I used to be pretty nervous to hit depth because I’d struggle with the midpoint. I still do but not to the extent that I used to. My strength is getting back up there and hopefully, it stays there when my weight goes back down.
That’s 175lbs for a single. I managed to do three sets of this. The next step is to be able to do those sets for doubles. Eventually, I’d like to be able to go 3×3 with them. My control has gotten better. I’ve had to start from the bottom up so many times but I think this time my efforts will keep progressing forward instead of getting in my own way and regressing backward so this feeling’s pretty nice.
I’m hella procrastinating on doing cardio because it’s just so much effort and I’m lazy. I’m also the most depressing person on the treadmill and my exasperation with it is melodramatic.
I’ve been watching a lot of Korean movies in an attempt to keep a low profile and not spend money.
The ones I liked so far:
- The Thieves
- Cold Eyes (though, I’m not sure others will)
- The Divine Move
- Swindlers (It’s alright, I just really like Park Sung-Woong)
I’m in the middle of New World and so far it’s pretty good.
I’ve been gaining more and more light in my life at the moment. It’s crazy to reflect that I was in such a dark spot just a couple of months ago. I’m grateful for my friends who were patient with me through it to allow me to process and get through it. I didn’t feel expected to pretend to be better and I think that level of support helped me finally get over this hump I’ve struggled with for a long, long time. I’m finally able to be vulnerable without compromising myself or my values because I know how to do it appropriately now. My anti-depressants are allowing me to process how to cope without the anxiety taking over. It was tough to let this all happen but I’m grateful because I know for certain I will never allow myself to be that wreck or get wrecked like I was or had been in the past.
I feel like I’m finally no longer just surviving. I feel like I’m about ready to thrive. It’s going to be fun.