The Death of Sir Bry

These days, I feel like my life is being twisted into another finale of sorts. Like Mat Cauthon, it seems like a pair of dice is rattling inside my head. I need to make an important decision very soon, but I'm too busy with work at the moment to allow myself to really think this through. Goodness knows that I shouldn't even be writing in here. I can't afford the time to reflect. But since I can't make myself move forward in writing the book at the moment then I might as well straighten the road ahead of me by picking apart these knots while I can.

And what's this very important decision that I'm bugging you about? Well, it's nothing really grand. It's just that I'm thinking of quitting the academe.Which like, has been my job since forever.

You see, I've always had this drive to try and do something else. I've been told that I do well as a teacher, and goodness knows how many students have cried just to prove it. This is all very fulfilling and flattering for me, and the universe knows how grateful I am to be a part of these students' lives and I have discussed this more fully in several of my older posts. Education is my passion. Or should I say, was. I... I don't know what really happened. I thought that I could teach until my last breath. But I guess I'm not as noble and self-sacrificing as I once thought I was. From recent events, it turns out that education is only a secondary priority.

I don't mean to be a humbug, but the truth is I am not challenged anymore by teaching. I can see it in my head already. I'll be doing the same things over and over again. As I've said, I don't really make an effort when I teach. I just flow. And as it is, I do okay. Even if you add research to the formula, the variety it will add to my job will not be enough. I will be bored. In fact, I am bored. And I hate this feeling. No growth means no go in my book.

Of course, one could argue that I can choose to grow vertically. But then again, even if I do secure a more stable position in this field, I'd be doing the same things. Even if you add the prospect of administration as I go up the ladder, I don't see how it can present things which would be challenging for me. I need to go out now. I need to start anew. I want to discover the other things that I don't know I have.

It goes without question that I would hate to leave my students. This issue had never been their fault. On the contrary, they are the only major reason why I would consider staying. But unfortunately, I'm not sure now that what they do is proving to be enough. At this rate, if I stay, I'd end up a robot, no matter how fun I make my classes. I must light my fires again, and my job at the moment is just not doing this anymore.

I'm not sure if I'm right, but I just think that there is so much more to life that I want to experience. And the thing is, I wouldn't discover these things until I leave the academe. The practical (and logical) people, well they would say that I'm acting the fool again. They'd tell me that I can do these things later. They'd tell me to build a solid foundation first. They'd tell me to secure my future instead of continuously flipping back and forth. One day I'm dead set on doing one thing. The next day I've completely convinced myself to do the opposite.

Despite all these being said and done, still, nothing is final yet. I might make a compromise between my purpose and my personal growth. I might learn to find a new reason to stay in the academe. But then, my instinct is telling me to go now. It had been a faint voice before, but now it's becoming louder and more and more insistent. I should go. I need to go. I must go. Now.

At the moment, I honestly still don't have a direction. I have gut feelings maybe, but I'm taking no steps to pursue them yet. As of now, I'm really lost. But something tells me that I should follow this feeling all the same. In the end, it's better to get lost and fail because of my own rash decisions, than to stay dissatisfied in one track because I'm too cowardly to try new things.

It's almost as if I've had enough of this kind of life. In a way, you can say that I've made the most out of being a teacher. I've squeezed it dry and I've reaped results teachers more experienced than me could only dream of. Now I'm done. I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to start my second life.

***

I was playing Civilization IV a month ago and I stumbled upon this Euripides quote from the game:

"The wisest men follow their own direction."

I've been following my own path for most of my life but I just wish it would make me feel wiser. As it is, all it brings me is confusion and frustration. Wagonloads of them. Maybe one day, it will. Though I half-wish this will never happen because the moment I deem myself wise, I know I'd feel empty.

PV = nRT

I closed the gate of our house and I stepped out onto the rain-soaked street. Though I had a destination, I still felt lost. My steps were slow and uncertain, and though it was raining a bit, I didn't feel like using an umbrella. I did not have enough space in my mind to worry about getting wet. And of all the people I would come upon as I left home, I saw my Mom walking towards me. She looked smaller, somehow, and other times I would have essayed a weak and guilty smile as she walked past but I never even looked at her that time. I ignored her as if I didn't know my own Mom. And that's okay because I'm sure she feels the same.

Things have changed between us, and they've changed so much beyond what she could mend. Long gone were the days when I could approach her with a problem she could fix. I've grown up so much that I've grown out of the simple domestic life I used to be part of. Come to think of it, I've never really approached her with anything serious. As in never. Because I know my issues were far beyond what she could comprehend.

I spent the weekend over at my friends' house. It was lucky that both of them were my close friends before they got married to each other, otherwise I wouldn't be able to stay for the night. I wouldn't have anywhere to go to, if that wasn't the case. My other friends, well, they're too far from me. Miles away, they were, in different time zones spread across the globe. I'm the only one left here. And when I think about how spread out we all are now, it only adds to my loneliness.

Being with my friends brought me calm. It made me more stable, in a way. Somehow, when I'm with friends, I am shielded from the darker things in my mind. I don't think they could get me completely, since I don't think anyone ever will, but at the least, I know that they would try to understand me all the same, and that brings me comfort, albeit only temporarily.

It had been an amazing experience, those two days I spent at their house. Though we did not really do anything special. We just lounged about in their queen-sized bed, reading magazines, browsing the internet, and watching movies and TV series. Nothing extraordinary. But I suppose that was what I needed at the moment - a semblance of normalcy.

Even how they dined together as a family proved to be a wonderful experience for me. That they eat their meals together regularly. They talk about mundane, sometimes bordering on the most frivolous, topics, and it wasn't exactly a mentally-stimulating experience. But just the fact that they were all there, as a family, being normal... That that was how things are supposed to be. I... I could just cry.

But I had to go home eventually, and when that night of my departure finally came, I couldn't help but dread how I would feel back home. I knew that immersing myself in their household for a while will only emphasize how dreary my own life was. So I found myself walking away from their house, on a rain-soaked street, with my head bowed and my steps uncertain. I had a destination. I was going back home, but I still felt lost.

Despite all these seemingly undefinable things clouding my head at the moment, somehow, the other people around me, they still make me feel loved. When I got back to work yesterday, I was welcomed. I was missed. People worried about me, and I felt guilty because I felt that I do not really deserve their concern. My students smiled at seeing me back and wondered how I was. They smiled, as if the simple sight of me brought them happiness. I should be happy at that, and of course I am. But I... I couldn't bring their warmth inside my own heart.

And that's the saddest thing, reader. Being confused, and being burdened about the shitty aspects of life - that's sad. But being confused despite being loved? This is worse.

I don't really know how to pick myself up again, reader. When other people ask me for advice, I give them solid and rational ones. That is easy for me, since I've allowed myself to go through many different situations in the past, and the experiences I've had and my objectivity make me more reliable as a source of wisdom. But in this thing, reader? I don't fucking know what to do. I can help others. I can help the world. But I can't help myself. Other people try to support me. And I'm thankful that they do. But I... I still can't help myself.

I wish for this episode to be over. Gawd, I do. Other people rely on me, and they need me to be back on track. It is essential that I get back on track. But how can I heal when the only thing which could help me is to be rid of their dependence on me for a while?

How I wish I could just live for myself for a while. That it would only be me who would be affected if I make a misstep. But now, if I stumble, other people would fall too. And I'm trapped in this situation. I have to let these burdens go, but I can't. I simply can't walk away. There is no one to take my place.

It's frustrating, reader because recently I've devoted my time to finding out the right ideals from which I can wrap my life around. Ideals to be my pillars, my guiding principles on how to live. Unlike other people, maybe I actually already have a semblance of how to really live. But what I haven't figured out is how to live in this world. This world which is, you know, far from being ideal.

Time To Sleep

All week I had been dreaming.

All week, I've been unable to get out of bed and go to work. I'm not exactly a stranger when it comes to absences, but it is only now that I've done so five days in a row. I'm admittedly at my worst career performance. I may have been reckless once or twice before, but never deliberately this... defiant. I don't know how warmly I will be received at work this Monday. In fact, I'm too ashamed (and too afraid) to show my face there ever again. If I only I could just say "I quit" and be done away with this. But I can't. This world simply does not work that way. And I owe my colleagues much more than such a heartless way of saying goodbye.

In the end, no matter how frazzled my psychological state may be at the moment, I am responsible for my students. It would've been so easy. These boundaries between what should be done and what should be avoided should have been clearly defined. This issue isn't even substantial enough to make a good argument. I am wrong, period. But then, it's this same responsibility I am actually running away from. That's the catch.

You see, the trouble with being strong (or at least, trying to be strong) all your life is that sooner or later, that last feather which will break your back will fall. Now I am not going to list down all my burdens, stressors, and deadlines for you since I don't want to have your pity and I don't want to give you a headache. There are just times when, you know, you feel like you've had enough and you have no other recourse to deal with it other than vanishing into thin air.

I haven't talked to anyone since Monday, even to my parents, and it is only this afternoon when I had a moment of lucidity to realize that I fucking need help already. That this is insane and I had to fucking talk to someone. I really was unable to get out of bed, and if you're thinking that I spent the time going to malls or flirting left and right (I wish I did) and pretending that it's sembreak already then you're sadly mistaken. And if you're wondering how my parents dealt with that - how they dealt with me trying to squeeze myself into the corner of my bed and desperately shutting myself off from the rest of the world - well then, let's say this wasn't the first time this happened to me. Besides, we already do live in a mental hospital of sorts, so they're quite used to erratic behavior. They've seen much worse from my brother.

Now reader, I really don't want to go back to those moments on my bed. They're ugly to describe, and just thinking about how I was then twists my stomach into knots. At the moment, I am sitting here on the floor of my friends' bedroom, just in case you're wondering how I got myself out of that stupor. I just need people around me. People I can talk to about these things and yep, I think I'm much better now. Talking does help when it comes to my craziness. At least, now that I've got company, I'm okay. I really don't know what will happen when I get back home. I'm beginning to dread my bed now. Yeah, my recent episode has been that bad.

It's all in my head, you can say. Maybe this is all simply make-believe. I mean, I may be creative enough to invent symptoms or whatever and maybe you wouldn't know the difference. And perhaps you're right. But I wish we could just swap brains for a moment and let me see how you deal with these. Maybe we could swap lives.

It's all in my head, you say, and yeah you're right. Only that everything is all in my head. Everything is all in your head also. And we can go beat our heads up and wax philosophical about these things so don't you dare say that things are simple when it's all in your head.

My dreams are all in my head too yet they make me feel real emotions. I have had such awesome dreams this week you know. Simple themes, really. Like me and my ex working it out again. Like me having a son whose name was Ion. Simple themes, yeah. But that feeling I got when I looked into my son's eyes?  That feeling of stability that knowing the love of my life still feels the same for me after all these years? They were real all the same.

All week I had been dreaming and I got myself lost in my own head. You can say that I'm crazy, dropping off everything just like that. Or maybe all the rest of you are the ones who are crazy, getting yourselves obsessed in rigid man-made structures like careers and tasks and money.

This past week had been an ordeal to endure awake. But when I've muddled through another night of insistent and unbidden thoughts of killing myself and I've managed to fall asleep and dream, it's a different thing. I learn more about things when I'm dreaming.

It says a lot about my life at the moment that I'd rather just sleep and dream than live through it. And yeah, admitting this makes me sad as hell myself.

Yeah...





I suppose...


I suppose it's time to sleep now.