My Favourite Streamer is Gone for 2 Weeks

           For the past 6¬ months, I've been watching twitch pretty religiously. It started when I was watching the OTV Rust server with boxbox, then I followed him when he tried out GTARP on NoPixel, started watching some other people, went to Buddha, and ended with Harry. Since then, I've never missed a Harry stream, even though his streams could start at 3am and go until like 10am sometimes, I would watch a bit, go to bed, then wake up and watch the vods. Every stream.

          Today, he went on vacation for 2 weeks, and I feel so hollow. This reaction is so disproportionate that I really had to stop myself and think: why am I so sad and empty? The content was never the issue, it was the CONSISTENCY. 5 days a week, I would have something to look forward to, doesn't matter how bad the day is, I could think: Oh, 5 hours left till Harry starts streaming. 5 hours ain't bad, I can get through it. I wake up in the morning and I think: oh cool I better get up, I have a Harry vod to watch. Now, I look at the clock, and it doesn't even matter what time it is, because the wait isn't measured in hours, or even days. It's weeks. 

          Before this, of course I still did other things, I picked up wire wrapping and bead jewellery a few days ago, I still watch small business youtube channels, I still draw, I make stationery and crafts etc. But all this was just a temporary distraction to waste time until the main event: Harry's stream. These are not long-form distractions. Not something to look forward to, they're something that I do now, for a few hours, and it's done. 

          I do have to stress, it's not about Harry the streamer or his content specifically, at all. Though of course the content is good. It's about something that is a staple, a highlight in my everyday routine that now is gone. That's what's making me so depressed. I have a permanent lump in my throat, and I am not exaggerating. Every smile is forced, and I'm so easily irritated. Is it even worth finding another daily routine when in 2 weeks he'll be back again? I don't know. 

          It is only now that I realise what a huge crutch twitch was to me, what an unhealthy coping mechanism, to think that TWITCH is the only reason for me to wake up everyday. How sad is that? And how sad is it that I'm really not exaggerating at all when I say without twitch I might already be dead. How do I live like this? Where every day I don't want to wake up. There's no reason to. In fact there's many reasons NOT to. Waking up means doing work, dealing with people, family members messing with my stuff, more responsibilities that somehow fall on me, bills, chores. And no bright points to look forward to. Why wake up?

The Last Day

           Thought about this recently and I figured I'd write it down before I forget. This is about the night before my dad died.

          Around 8pm at night, my dad had sudden breathing complications and my uncle, mum, and I think my grandma drove him to the hospital. Me, Mae, and Gene thought about going to the hospital to visit him at around 10pm. Now we weren't panicking much because at this point my dad had been in and out of the hospital pretty constantly, going home as soon as he's allowed (which means he's not fully strong yet), and going back to the hospital a few days later. We thought this was much the same thing. Go to the hospital, spend a few days on IV drips and forced antibodies, then coming home to slowly decay again.

          So anyway, yes, I thought it would be a nice surprise to go see dad at the hospital, I did that a lot those few months, dragging my siblings along with me. When we got there, he was happy to see us, but especially said to Gene "wow, it's almost exam and you still came to see me? I'll buy you coffee tomorrow haha". He wasn't fully done being checked out yet but I overheard the doctor saying something like lungs collapsing, not long left. Then I walked away because I figured I shouldn't be hearing this.

          The doctor gave him a new oxygen pump and morphine, then we went back home. There was nothing they could do. I knew that, but I didn't tell my siblings. They probably still have no idea. We drove back home in separate cars, grown ups in one car, kids in another. Dad was being overly chirpy, maybe happy that we visited, maybe trying to cheer us up. He was talking about when he got better, let's all go visit Fujian, China, where our ancestors were from. He talked about that a lot. I'll go for him someday.

          We went back home, and let him rest. It was 4am the following morning, mere hours after he left the hospital that my mum woke me up and said "hurry, dad's dying". She woke only me, none of my other siblings. So I woke them up and went downstairs to my dad's room. His breathing was laboured, eyes unfocused. I don't know if he could have even heard us. My uncle kept complaining about the poor airflow, as if that could have cured his cancer. We stood there, teary eyes from the old folks, dry eyes from the youngins, and we waited. We said our last words, perhaps more for our sake than his. I held his hand, but didn't say anything. My uncle scorned me for that. "He loved you all more than anything and you don't have anything to say to him?" I try to look past all his actions during those months, grief does things to you, but it's hard to forgive.

          My uncle sent Mae off to school around 6am, saying that dad would have wanted her to go. I wasn't brave enough to say no he wouldn't, he never valued school, only effort. So Mae went. He stopped breathing around 7am. I drove to school, crying, or forcing myself to cry, I don't know. She was having an exam, so not in her regular classroom. I went to the teacher's office to tell them I need to find Mae, our dad just died. Condolences all around, but I was still smiling and polite. Probably freaked them out. They got Mae out of the exam hall and we were both stone faced and cracking morbid jokes. "Haha, at least you don't have to take the exam anymore right? Worth it!"

          We were laughing when we got home too. I saw my aunts had both just arrived there from the airport. They were too late to see him. I think they might have been bitter about me smiling and waving at them, maybe they were just angry that I could be happy at a time like that. Jokes on them though, I'm never happy so what's the difference?

          That was the last day. The months after that were a blur of relatives and funeral proceedings, condolences, being angry about relatives judging me. I don't regret anything I did for those last months. I did as much as I could. More than I could. I wasn't raised like my relatives, my dad didn't raise me like my relatives. He knew me, he was proud of me, and that's all I need to know. Screw those other relatives and their hideously conservative judgement. My dad was dying, my dad just died. I can act how I want. I can throw a tantrum about someone wanting me to drive them to the grocery store when I thought I finally had a free day to myself. That's valid. I don't need them, and I don't need their approval.

          Anyway. That's it, bye!

Why do life?

"Listening to - Arrival at Aslan's How"




It really hurts me that this is life, this is all there is. There won’t be any magic spells, or fairies, or supernatural strength, no wardrobes or mermaids, no Narnia, no Hogwarts. Maybe that’s why people believe in religion? To pretend that there’s something more? Or why people believe in aliens? I just find life so mundane, so meaningless. The absolute ultimate lifestyle, say I became super rich and everybody loves me, it would still pale in comparison to fiction. It’s crippling, nihilism. Life is like a chore that I have to do, but there’s no end. I mean, why am I doing this chore? What do I get? Nothing. I die, and I become nothing. So why even do “life”? I just don’t get it. How do you motivate yourself to get up? What incentive do you have except for "you're supposed to"? I have none. I live for other people. If I don't go to work my colleagues will be inconvenienced. If I don't go out with my friends, my friends will be inconvenienced. If I don't eat my family will be worried. Nothing to do with me, at all. If I had no friends or family? I wouldn't do anything. I'd lay down and die. I wish I was exaggerating. I'm not sad, I don't seek death. I simply do not value living, I can do without.

It feels like a weight in my chest

Kinda like how it feels when you’re about to cry. But there’s no reason. I was fine this morning, but then I just kept feeling worse and worse, moody, irritable, angry, now I just feel awful. All negative emotions together. And I want to cry, but I can’t. Cuz my brother’s here.

Ok well it’s not completely without reason of course. First off I feel woefully unqualified for my job. And the boss had such high expectations, I can’t meet them. That sucks. Second, I don’t fit in with my coworkers. Granted I’m still new, but we have nothing in common. I’m so english based, they’re so chinese based. I feel judged at every moment, it’s exhausting. I’m sure it’s just me, nobody else cares whether I said scuse me after sneezing. Nobody remembers that. I don’t have to be working every second of the day, it’s fine to check my phone and rest a while. They all do, so I should relax. I don’t like work though, all in all. Which leads me back to my core problem: do I want this for the rest of my life? Hell. No. So why am I doing it then? I don’t know. It’s not even like an internship, there’s no end in sight. That sucks. Everything sucks. I suck. And if I don’t sleep now I’ll wake up uber late tomorrow. Then I’ll have nothing to wear and they’ll judge me. Hate this lifestyle.

Thus concludes a late night off the chest rambling. No context. Thank you.

Talking Through My Depression

          I want to try to explain what my depression is like, on a daily basis.

          I usually sleep from about 6pm to 12am, then stay up until 6pm the next day. I had real trouble getting out of bed when I followed a regular sleep schedule. I find that if I’m already out of bed, going to class is a lot easier. Cutting down the steps makes it easier to do, in my experience. The worse I feel, the more steps need to be cut. If I’m feeling great, say it’s a party after submissions, no stress, I would go put together an outfit, brush my teeth, do my hair, do my makeup, perfume, pick out shoes, then go out the door. So the worse I feel, I would cut out the outfit, the makeup, the perfume, the shoes, etc. etc. When the depression kicks in, steps are like obstacles. When I’m alright, steps are enjoyable little rituals, with feelings of self-improvement. Without depression, I ENJOY makeup, doing my hair, trying on shoes, etc. Nowadays, maybe 10% of my life is normal, the rest is all depressed.

          Now I should say, there are different types of depression, the one most people think of, manic depression, where you cry and self-harm, that comes in waves of maybe every 3 months, sometimes it’s seasonal, winter depression is a thing. Mine is chronic depression, or major depression. It’s basically, chemically in my brain, I lack the ability to feel things, also known as apathy. I don’t feel happy, sad, etc. Only one I still have is anger, because that’s not really an emotion. Think of it as flavours, happy and sad are sweet and salty, while anger is spiciness. Not technically a flavour, if you know what I mean? So with chronic depression (I like calling it chronic depression because it sounds more serious. Explains some of my personality I think, attention seeking), it’s a constant thing. Every month, every day, every year. The very core issue is the apathy. I don’t care. I CAN’T care. About anything. Everything I do, I do because I know I’m supposed to. The harder the task, the more I think: why am I doing this? I don’t care. Logically speaking I know everything a normal person does, I just can’t feel it. Oh, a friend cares about me? That’s nice. I know I should feel gratitude, warmth, etc. So that’s what I try to express. Do I feel it though? No. It makes others feel bad, like they don’t matter, but here’s more context: My father is my favourite person in the entire world, I want to be just like him, and I want people to say that I’m just like him. He is the best, bar none. When he died, I couldn’t even cry. I had to make myself cry so that my relatives wouldn’t be offended. I’m pretty good at faking emotions, I can cry super easily, my laughs and smiles are pretty genuine (I think, I never asked anyone but I think so).

          That’s another thing! I find things funny and sad even though I can’t feel them myself, imagine you’re watching a sad movie with a bunch of friends, having a good time: do you feel sad in the movie? Probably yes. Do you actually feel sad about yourself? I’d guess not. Similarly, imagine you’ve just broken up, or your family member just died. And you see a funny post online, do you think it’s funny? Probably. Are you happy with your life? I don’t think so. I find things funny, I cry at sad things (very easily. But that’s just me, even without depression). Like watching a movie, I can feel sad for you, if you’re feeling sad, I can feel sad about you too. But afterwards, am I still sad? No. Sorry, I don’t mean to, I just can’t care.

          What does this mean for daily life? Let’s take the basics. Eating. What are the steps for that if I’m feeling ok? I go to the kitchen, see what I can cook, make something I really enjoy, and eat it. If I’m depressed? I would think: Does it even matter if I eat? Then sometimes, I just don’t eat. I’ll try to cut down the steps (as mentioned before) and maybe eat something premade, tuna, or bread, or order something. But yes, I’ve cut it down to just one meal a day because more than that, and it will just be too much. Same thing with drinking. This is why I like buying drinks like bubble tea or whatever, because it kind of has an expiry date, so I HAVE to finish it before then. Unlike water, which makes me think: why drink it? What’s the point? What would even happen if I don’t drink it? Nothing. 

          Nothing would happen. Nothing matters.

          Every single task is like this. Assignments, class, those are the absolute worst. The consequences are so inconsequential. So what? If I don’t show up to class? Why bother? Why does it matter? And all of the STEPS it takes to, for example, go to class. It’s NEVER worth it. Class comes with so many side effects. Lack of progress means I have to face the lecturer and tell them: this is all I have. Sorry. Classmates would see my work, which I’ve done with the absolute minimal effort (cutting down steps, as mentioned above), so I KNOW it sucks. This will make me feel bad about my work, my skills, but not bad enough that I would try to fix it. So it’s just feeling bad with no effect. Unforeseen circumstances as well, what if some sort of social situation happens and I just short circuit and do something awkward? I have social anxiety, anxiety sort of comes with depression usually, so it’s not abnormal. Then my net effect of going to class would be negative. If I don’t go, net effect stays at zero, and that’s better than negative.

          With all this though, I KNOW it’s all in my head. I KNOW that going to class is better for me. I KNOW that it matters. School matters. I matter. But depression means that I won’t feel that, I won’t believe that. Sort of how if someone accidentally bumps into you and you fall and spill your things everywhere. Logically you know it’s just as much your fault as it is theirs, and there’s no point being angry at them, it won’t fix anything. But you’re angry anyway, and you’re annoyed you have to pick all your stuff up off the ground. Logically, it would be best for you to just pick up the stuff and go. But emotionally, you want to complain to someone, you want to berate the person who bumped into you, you want them to apologise for what they did. All useless. But that’s what you want in your head. Think about all the crimes of passion. Feelings overwhelm people. It’s kind of like that, but opposite? I can tell myself all day that eating will help keep me healthy, no digestion issues, gives me energy so I don’t lie in bed all day, but DEPRESSION means: I don’t care. If a truck hits me and I die, I don’t care. So long as it doesn’t give me more steps, more obstacles, I don’t care. I’m just trying my best to survive. Do normal things. Anything else will shatter me. I will short circuit and no longer be able to function.

          This is what’s in my head on loop, always. Super loud, super strong, very persuasive: why are you doing this? What is the point? Just don’t do anything. Do you even want to do this? Then why? Does this make you happy? Does it make your life easier? Then why? If no one else exists, would you still do it? You’re not doing this for you, so why bother?

          Anything I do. Those are the questions.

          It’s nothing short of crippling. As unbelievable as it seems, me being able to survive this is already a great feat. For at least 4 years I’ve been dealing with this, getting worse and worse, till where I am now. Can I still graduate? Yes. Can I still get a job? Yes. This fuels my apathy even more. I don’t even NEED to try harder, so why bother? I will graduate. The school wants us to graduate.

          Anyway, yes. Overall: apathy. That’s what I have. I hope it’s easier to understand. You might see it as me being lazy. But simply getting out of bed takes effort. It is an illness. Substitute it with, say, a fever, and it’s somehow more excusable now. Even though depression is so much worse.

This was written for me to try to explain depression. It’s not meant to be an enjoyable read, it’s incredibly poorly written, and I’m sorry. I’m usually a lot better.

Pretending

          Does anybody else pretend to do the things that you think happy people do? In private? Like imagine a movie where a girl's listening to music: she'd bop her head and do little jigs and lip sync with a hairbrush. Logically of course, I know that's for dramatic effect but... Sometimes I sit alone in my room and listen to music and dance around in my chair to see if that makes me feel happier. How sad is that? I don't know. I actively make myself smile because maybe it might make me feel happy. Sort of like, I'm practising how to be a regular person? I'm not completely sure why I do it.

          I wanted to post this short thing on my instastory or something but I thought it would be too emo and people would think it was sad.

Appreciation

          I never show my appreciation. It's hard for me to show any kind of emotion at all, really, and not like I'm actively suppressing it or anything I just... Don't feel it, I guess? But in my head I do really appreciate all the things my friends do, things like inviting me to places, offering help, it makes me feel like I have a choice in life, that maybe I don't have to do it by myself. I'm so grateful that people actually want me around, even a little bit. I'm so grateful that people are willing to spend their time talking to me, and giving me advice. I'm so grateful because I hardly ever offer anything, because I know depression can cancel any sort of plans I make. I'm grateful because I don't ever expect people to want to hang out with me, so I would never actively engage people in case they feel like they are forced to spend time with me. I'm very grateful, and I'm sorry I can't show it.