My Own Little Bildungsroman

I have done it yet again, putting up an amazing show at work today. I woke up feeling shitty again and I can't seem to get those mental images of the person out of my mind. I had to go to work no matter what as I have overseas visitors coming. And with them, I had to visit almost every crystallography group there is in Melbourne and still had to work with them on the machines later in the day. Amidst all the handshakes and fake smiles and supposedly intelligent discussions, I was actually daydreaming half the time, mostly of a certain someone, and all the while wishing I could just collapse and die. Professionalism aside, it would be utterly crazy if I would have cracked in front of them, although that would probably be the most comfortable way to go. How do people do it? How is it possible that everyone seems to have no issues with their personal lives at all only to function so normally at work? Am I the only one here who is finding it so impossible and suffocating?

So the day ended up being very long and very late for me, and just as I was about five minutes away from my door, I got a call from Mark telling me I could still get a ticket to Mraz if I could make it over to Prince of Wales in ten minutes. With my pathetic takeaway of Nando's in one hand and hardly any spirit left, I actually said no to the offer, despite the fact that I am actually missing out on Mraz. It sucks, but that isn't the only thing that sucked in my life currently anyway.

Ended up vegetating in front of the telly and watching a really sombre episode of ABC's Four Corners. It was about public executions for adulterers, chastity breakers and homosexuals in Iran. It was all too sobering and depressing. Just imagine, if that was the case everywhere, how many times over do we have to die? I am no exception either.

Ran into my uni professor at the institute today, haven't seen him for about four years now. It was great seeing him again but I made a quick exit as soon as he was about to start on my 'good old days'. It is indeed real sweet of him to remember me so fondly as the menace and underachieving slacker in his class, but it was all too depressing for me to get reminded yet again on how carefree and happy and lively I was then, as opposed to now, like especially now, now.

For the past two months, drowning myself in work did help, even though I know it was a silly thing to do. However, it didn't work today. If anything, it made me even more depressed and lonely, especially when I was standing at the tram stop all alone in the dark and in the cold. I could have taken a cab I know, but that would not make a difference to how I was feeling inside. Having some change to spare and getting home earlier doesn't make me a happier person.

And yes, who was I trying to fool wolfing down that greasy dinner only to have it all out of me within minutes? I should have just stopped at the Coke and the ciggies.

And who cares if I am messing with my body again and maybe losing weight that I can't be sparing? Isn't it always the case that people around me worry more about my weight than I do myself? And yes, friends have been checking in on me to see if I am doing okay. I do appreciate their concern, but I just hate it when everyone thinks I am this mentally unstable and vulnerable boy. It's not so much on how they think of me, it's more on the fact that I hate to be so dependent and weak. It was my own doing that I crashed so badly this time so I should deal with it myself. I do talk about it and admit with no qualms that I am indeed down in the dumps but I deserve no sympathy at all. I may feel like a loser even but doesn't that happen to even the best of us? I may be finding an excuse for myself here but what other valid reason do I have to continue going anyway?

And how do I suppress that queasiness and the suffocating feeling and the lethargy I will feel tomorrow when I have to face my collaborators again? After all, I have a role to play and a job to do and I can't be having the luxury of being wilful and illogical. I certainly wish I do though.

I seem to be swinging from Holden Caulfield to Mrs Dalloway to Robert Jordan to Mrs Brown and then back to Holden Caulfield again. I will never be able to get rid of the Holden Caulfield in me that's for sure. I have long suspected I am actually living him out.