And so I borrowed my own shoulders

The last time I remembered me crying my heart out, till my eyes were sore and my lungs tired, was on some cold November night, 2005. I was alone. In freezing Blackpool. It's nearly a year now, isn't it? This time I am (alone) too, but in London.

Maybe I am the kind to bottle things up and then explode once it's reached its limit? This time with no exception. That last time I cried because someone had chickened out, vanishing into thin air leaving all promises unfulfilled and still is. This time, work has driven me mad. I couldn't handle all my tasks with just one pair of hands anymore. It's gotten to a stage where everyone thinks I'm some kinda super woman who could just juggle knives and fireballs with one hand. I'm tired. Very tired. When can I stop and take a rest? Do I have to wait till the day I'm six feet underground to be able to R.I.P?

Perhaps I should go on a course whereby they teach you, a) how to manage your work and life; b) how to manage and/or handle people; c) how to say NO to every requested task that's forever urgent; d) how not to think you are a superwoman and push your workload to others; e) how to talk to your team leaders and perhaps how to talk as well; and maybe f) how to be happy again. Note the 'again'. I used to be happy, carefree, and there to bring smiles to people's life. Now they've robbed me of what I only had. I'm more filled with sorrows than smiles now, albeit the fact that both start with 's'.

Sometimes I wonder why and what am I doing here? No kin, no friends, nobody. Why? No doubt I've come a long way, but made a friend of loneliness. Sometimes I wish I had someone there to share my times with, guess I'm picky with whom I choose. Who could I to blame? No one. No doubt again I've come a long way, and I so hate it when people tell me to give up; to think that I'll always have home to fall back on if all else fails. I do not like that. I know the intention may be well, but it does not encourage nor give me the support and strength I could need to pull through here on my own. I do not like to submit to the fate that I can always depend on home if I fail over here. I like and am proud how I've managed this far in living alone on my own, apart from the fact that I need to learn how to sort out myself, my life, my sorrowful outlook, my being. Remember, I must learn how not to run away again. Oh, someone, please give me the courage I need to pull through this.

I shall find a way to make myself happy again. Who likes reading entries that're always full of frustration, anger and sadness? I don't. I think I'm falling ill. My throat feels sore. Who shall care for me? Who will care for me? Me, myself and I.


P.S. I thought, perhaps looking forward, at least to some comfort in seeking a shoulder to cry on while lamenting a hard day's work after this long tedious day was able to realise. However I gotta laugh at myself - when have I ever been lucky to have such a luxury here? I've not gotten its favour. And so I borrowed my own shoulders.