The Untold Stories

Today at the gym: PT: Hey, how have you been? Me: Hmm.. It's alright. PT: Well, my boss told me that one cannot just be 'alright'. It's either good or bad.  Me: I have just been busy organising for the move, probably that's why.  I noticed he always had this really positive and cheerful vibe.  Me: You are always so happy.  PT: Well, yea, I guess I am, there's no reason to not be right?  I noticed this stark contrast between my PT and I. He told me about his upcoming trips with his gf to the Great Barrier Reef, and later to Europe. He's always so full of energy too. He doesn't just stand there. He stands with good posture, plays with the exercise ball on his hand, his body language clearly signals that he is a very happy person.  I took the train to the city for a walk after lunch.  On the train, I took out my phone and googled "Why am i so negative?"  I clicked on the first search result: Negati...

I remember when we argued,  I used to tell Jay how much my situation is different from his. He has a family here and they are living together while me, I am ALONE, yes, just by myself here. He grew up here, he went to school here and so friends from primary and high schools still can keep in touch easily. Sometimes I attribute my OCD with hygiene, with personal safety and with anxieties in general to the fact that I am alone here, and that I have NO ONE TO FALL BACK ON. It's different when you know you have parents looking after you. You can afford to be a bit lax about hygiene. But now that I'm here by myself, I get very worried (sometimes excessively) whenever I have a sore throat or when I simply feel unwell. "What if I am sick?" "what if it's so serious that I need to go to hospital?" "do I call the ambulance?" "who is going to let the paramedics in?" "what if I can't go work? can't work for an extended period of ...

I have a draft saved, but I have decided to start all over again with this post now. I have moved to a new place. A suburb in Sydney's west. There are many Koreans here. Tonight will be my 6th night here in my new room. In the draft, I was writing about how  I moved in detail. On second thoughts, however, I think what's important or worth noting or remembering is the 'bigger picture'. I moved, over three days, with Jay's help. Yes. It's the same Jay. The one that I recently wrote about. The one that broke my heart. The one that I broke up with. It's somewhat ironic, because I was determined not to let him know that I was going to move. The day (or two days) after  that night , we talked over the phone. I was able to speak calmly. I was able to tell him properly about my feelings, my feelings about him, about this relationship, and why I was feeling the way I did, and why I  decided that I was single . Honestly I cannot remember exactly what we talk...

Spent the weekend packing, throwing things out, and moving things over to my new abode. Packing- filling a bag or suitcase with stuff is not that hard. The necessary tidy-up that precedes packing is the hardest bit. Have to be decisive and ruthless when it comes to getting rid of things that I haven't used for at least a year. I am a borderline hoarder. I like to keep stuff, because just in case / who knows one day I might miss this, or need that. My pathology test results, x-ray films,  undergrad course notes, vocabulary notebooks since high school that I had brought with from Malaysia, a Nokia cell phone (just in case I might need it for camping one day), my first smartphone, graphic calculator from Year 12, a few Casio calculators, key rings/souvenirs given to me by my family which I have never used, boarding passes from the first trip with Jay, the letters he wrote me, books that I brought with 6 years ago, piano scores for some church hymns that I used to play when I fel...