After uni...there's writing...?

It felt weird. Surreal. To return to blogging after so many days of...what exactly? I felt sorely tempted to say that I was procastinating, but no. Shocked?
To tell you the truth, uni life was so totally not what I expected it to be. It had me overwhelmed, confused, and disorientated. I was worried. I was scared. And honestly, I would have love it very much to indulge myself into blogging, and try to forget myself in writing. To find some comfort, some assurance from good, old writing. I may not be good, terrific in it, but at least I know what I'm doing? There's no restriction, no rules. Just a shoulder for you to lean on, a hand for support. No commitments, no string attached. Just do whatever you want to do, what you're supposed to do(which is fairly easy to figure out; basically, you just blog in a blog. Pardon the pun.)...go with the flow(which I'm very good at). Your freedom, your space.
Which brings me back to my uni life. I reckon probably everyone would agree that uni life's just like blogging?
But, to me, no. Yes, uni life's about freedom too, and with that comes responsibility(Ring a bell? That's Spiderman for you.), of which also applies to blogging. Mum had established some rules for me regarding blogging: I made sure that I don't swear, curse, or write any obscene words; I don't get involve in political issues; I kept it as private as I could(unfortunately, I couldn't NOT include personal emotions into my writing...writing about my feelings was one of the reasons I set up the blog in the first place because I don't know how to vent out my feelings in other ways...and writing was the only thing that I know how to do, and am comfortable in doing...besides, writing always make me feel good.); I was always, always very careful of what I write.
But...those weren't pressing, life-threatening responsibilities. I can handle those. I have done it in all my life...being a good girl. Let's just say it wasn't hard, if not tempting.
But, uni is different. It is a big deal to me. I couldn't afford a mistake, certainly not like blogging, when you can pause a long while and check through your posts before you hit the publish button. At times, in life itself, the whole situation is often blurred; you could never really understand what's happening, could never see the clear picture, and so how long should you pause? And yes, it's possible to miss the boat of opportunity when you're too cautious, unlike blogging, when you just don't post for a very long time, contemplating on what to write, and all you lose is a few (precious) pageviews. I can live with that.
And I've missed the boat too many times.
When I first stepped into the school door, I was very enthusiastic and excited about the whole prospect of education, life, and my possible future. While I can pushed the responsibility to those who had hurt me in the process, and made me lose my confidence and faith in life, I could not NOT blame myself for letting myself NOT live life to the fullest too. For allowing myself to lose the opportunities.
By indulging myself into my own world, closing myself to the world, living in my own fantasy, I've lost touch with reality and world, and when I finally resurfaced, suddenly I realized I didn't belong in the world anymore. I just couldn't fit in.
It was so frightening. And depressing. I didn't know what to do.
And the most hardest part is, I have a family. I couldn't let them down. And, most importaatly, I've a sister who count on me. If I fail, I could very ruined her future, her life. It was suffocating.
It took me so long to write this because I was afraid to share about my fears. I was scared of how others would think of me, and especially my mom and sister, who would occassionally check my blog, to cause them worry, anxiety, and sadness. Most of all, I was afraid that I wouldn't have the strength to go on. I fear that my writing it would force me to face with the reality finally, and I would break down because I was not mentally strong enough.
It took a phone call to wake me up, and through writing, I found the strength and conviction instead to slog on.
It dawned on me that I was not only doing this for my family, and that I should stop worrying about failure; I was doing it for myself too, and that took the pressure off. I want myself to suceed...that shouldn't be too hard, right? Suddenly, I found my courage and motivation.
I'm still worried. But, I feel so much better.
Suddenly, I realized: I might have lost touch with the world, but I'm still in touch with reality as opposed to what I was thinking initially. I know what I want.
For a moment, I'd thought that writing was a curse for me(I will tell you why in another post, another day), but it wasn't. It was my support, my hope; a place for me to seek solace and understanding, coming to terms with myself.
And it was powerful and wonderful.
Thank you God for this. Thank you writing and books. Thank you mom for this. Thank you, my sis, for this. Thank you, my family, for this. And thanks to the phone call.
It is good to know that you aren't really standing alone in a battle. Thanks to my companion...writing.
I LOVE you. To bits.
You are who I am. My identity.