002

The last time I remember writing of anything was when I got caught up under blinding lights and lines of communication with bloody noses. And I’ve been done past years it seems. I’m going to make this post long to make up for lost time.

It’s been a rough few weeks, to say the least. I just carried on with life the best way I know how until I received a call that slapped me in the face. The tumor is back. It was the first time in a long time that I almost lost my composure in public. But I just kept my cool, finished my exams, finished my lab work… and went home and had the longest cry of my life.

I remember the last time. I went into a frenzy state. I read the Bible cover to cover a dozen times trying to find answers, clues… comfort. I prayed a lot. It wasn’t until I talked to my dad, and he took me to the temple to mediate. And through meditation for months, I felt like myself again. I get the “You’re going to Hell” speech every time I tell people I feel like I'm in between a Christian and Buddhist, but all rivers flow to one ocean. I still pray for my family and friends every night. As long as you live life with intention… live a life that you give back to… you’ll be okay. Well, I hope so.

I do believe I’ve lived trying to always give back. I don’t expect anything when I do things for others. I do them because… why not? I do them because I can. Most often times I go out of my way, bend over backwards for people, especially the people I let in. But when you give and give, and they take and take… you kind of give so much of yourself that you end up losing yourself. “Stop swimming across oceans for people who won't jump a puddle for you.” That’s my problem... I can’t. No matter how much I know it takes out of me, I do it. And that problem lead me here. Right at this moment… I think I’ve lost myself, and I no longer have much to give.

Here I am… on the balcony of my apartment, just listening to the sounds of cars and the faint whistle of the wind… writing with no direction. I reflected on my life the past few years, and I’m feeling… defeated. Giving up med school was a big life decision. I know that. Do I regret it? On some days. But I trust my instincts, and my instincts told me to stop calculating every step of life, and just live. Suddenly, I no longer had a job, so I packed up my bags and decided to move out of my comfort zone. I found something I love to do that’ll give me the luxury of time. Well, not yet. After these gruesome few years of school. 245 days, but who’s counting?

I am just not where I want to be right now. My life feels chaotic. Anxiety is at an all-time high. What do I take from all of this? Have I stayed dormant these past few years? What have I learned since I’ve been out of my comfort zone? Let’s see... The past few years in Los Angeles, I’ve learned to forgive – fully forgive people. Let go – completely let go. I’m still working on the whole “self-love” thing, but there’s progress. I’m an introvert. I find being alone comforting. Feeling alone – different story. But I’ve been trying to lower the walls I put up and let people peek in. That allowed me to meet a lot of people I would have deemed as not worth the effort. I’ve met all colors of the spectrum. The amazing. The brilliant. The bright. The douchebags. The assholes. I've stopped trying to read people, and let them work their charm on me. Not going to lie… that've hurt me a few times. One recently actually. But that’s life.

So a string of phone calls are in need to be made for appointments that I will dread and fear. I need a few days/weeks to recoup. I may also need a warm hug, positive thoughts, and some french fries. Blegh. I feel like a fish swimming against the tide. But I’ll make it out okay. I always do.

Well, that was my Monday.