Breathing Space

It’s March 2017 and I’m still alive. Great.

I think it’s a rule that when you want something so badly in life, you will never be able to get it, even if it is something that will not make any exponential changes in the world. Sorry if that crushes your childhood dreams and hopes right then and there.

Four weeks into the job and my first salary, I should be excited; emphasis on the word “should”. Again, I should reiterate, it’s not the people I work with. It’s me. I am just myself a grumpy, sad person, and I don’t know how to be anything but.

See, the thought of money usually makes one’s day a lot brighter, but not me. I’ll tell you why. Despite the fact that the things I like or enjoy doing in life is rather simple and comparatively not as pricey, I won’t be able to use it personally because I am not in a place to be “selfish”. Also, there is this fear that is built up on top of all the series of unfortunate events that just runs in the family like water, which somehow conditions my inability to spend a lot of money at once. Actually, that would only make me feel worse.

I truly despise the fact that I need to put it this way, but at times, I often wonder if it’s all worth it: the money for the family, and whether I will be able to keep doing it for the rest of my life. A life that I never even ask for on the first place.

People take the life they’re given for granted, at least as far as how they acquire it initially. The lucky ones, so they say, are born to a family that takes care of them up until a certain age when they are demanded to do the same to the people who raise them. Some do that willingly without any questions asked. On the other hand, I still cannot quite¬†grasp the fact that it is them who wants me in their life on the first place, not me. So, why the “responsibility”?

I can already feel the surge of “You insolent little brat!” coming my way. But if I don’t say it now, I feel like I might lose the teensy amount of sanity hardly left in my disposal.

Then comes the question, “So, do you love the family? Because if you do, you’ll endure the job or simply keeping up with their antics. You will because they are worth it.” I mean, I can definitely say I love my brothers to the bone. But frankly, when it is put that way, especially on the context of my caretakers, I don’t know what to say, and I have never felt so horrible in my life.

Ideally, I will appreciate some form of distance because, contrary to most views, it creates this sort of illusion that lets you think more affectionately of those you left behind, at least to my own experience. If that lets me balance out all the grouch and depression, then it’s all I ask as of now. And so I guess it’s all I am going to strive for in the meantime.

But if the world never lets you get what you desperately want, no matter how insignificant it is, should I even expect anything to prevail?