After reading K's email today, I know I should be better in reaching out to my friends with a blog. I don't think my life is quite exciting or worth writing about, and I don't quite have the personality to share to others what I think or feel all the time. So I'm still against the fence in writing a blog.
It's pretty ironic that I'm open to sharing my "things" to others but I've very hesitant to share my emotions and feelings. When I was young, I kept a diary but I was always fearful that someone who knew my deep feelings would judge me in a negative way. I wrote a back-up diary just in case it was found, and then I became more paranoid and wrote a back-up diary to that, just in case. I couldn't keep up with 3 diaries, so I stopped. I realized I was fooling myself...pretending and covering. So here I am now, 20 years later, I'm still pretending and covering.
Hmmm....I guess writing could be theraputic and I could reflect on what I did each day. But then again, I would clearly see that my life is very monotonuous and unstimulating, and it would draw up my feelings of fornlorn and lifeless in which I've been trying so hard to pull out from.
Since the beginning of 2010, this is what my daily life consists of: I wake up everyday at 6:30 am and leave the house about 7-730 to deal with traffic. By the time I get to the office it's about 8:30. Some days if I just don't feel like getting up, I delay myself for at least 30 minutes like today, and get in about 9. By the time I'm in the office, I head straight to the espresso machine to get me through the morning. It's pretty sad actually. I gave up coffee 2 years ago, but I finally caved 2 months ago and now need at least a full shot of espresso everyday. I may[not] take a lunch, but I try to get in a walk before I go insane from boredom. I can't chat on the phone, listen to music or IM anymore since I now reside in a cube, so it's pretty hard for me to get through the day. I clock out at about 530-6pm and head straight to the gym for 2 hours doing spinning, palates, or yoga (depending on the day). On days in which P has class in Berkeley, I kill time at the gym until 930 to pick him up. By the time I get home at 10-1030, it's time to sleep to awaken the next day to do this all over again. When the weekend rolls around, it's all about running errands, doing house chores, and trying to find some time to actually enjoy some "non-routine" spontaneous activity. But then what I ever end up doing, is nothing. I don't feel like calling or visiting my friends whom I haven't seen for ages, or want do something fun with P. I just want to be alone and do something mindless. Not to think, not to feel.
But I know that's unhealthy. I think I'm borderline depressed at times, so I try and try with all my might to be positive. Since my birthday, I've been trying really hard to pull myself out of this rut. I've been going to the gym at least 3 times a week, or 4 if I can really motivate myself. I'm slowly feeling better about myself. I haven't noticed any weight loss at all which is quite annoying. I do feel stronger physically, but not mentally. I've been striving to meditate, but my mind goes a-mile-a minute. The only time I feel at peace is when I'm sleeping-dreaming and escaping from reality. My dreams are the only exciting events I get to experience nowadays! Sad, of well...It's time to head to bed!
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