Thursday, January 19, 2017

Rise.


April 23, 2016

Sore ini, saat sedang scrolling timeline Facebook, saya menemukan satu status dari salah satu fotografer favorit saya, Nirrimi, yang membuat saya teringat kembali akan memori terburuk saya di tahun 2014.

Status Nirrimi tersebut ini diawali dengan kalimat, "My little brother killed himself today."

Sebagai pembaca setia blognya, saya tahu benar Nirrimi dan Zake, adik laki-lakinya ini, begitu dekat. Umur mereka cuma terpaut dua tahun. Dan dari apa yang Nirrimi tulis, saya selalu membayangkan Zake sebagai pria muda yang asik, lucu, gaul dan penyayang anak-anak. Basically, the definition of a cool millennial.

Membaca statusnya seketika membuat saya sedih. Padahal saya tidak kenal Nirrimi, ataupun Zake. Tapi rasanya seperti baru saja mendengar kabar duka dari kawan lama.

Zake bunuh diri di umur yang ke-22. Masih muda sekali. Too young, too kind, and too fast to die.

Lalu kemudian saya teringat, saya pernah berada di titik terendah dan nyaris melakukan hal bodoh serupa di umur yang sama dengan Zake.

It's hard to stomach perhaps, but at 22 I was actually suicidal.

*

Di awal tahun 2015, saya pernah menulis sebuah postingan panjang tentang diri saya dan apa saja yang terjadi di tahun 2014. Postingan tersebut tidak pernah saya publish. Alasannya karena saya malu. Saya pikir tulisan saya alay. Saya takut dianggap mengada-ada. Namun setelah membaca status Nirrimi sore ini, saya pikir mungkin inilah saat yang tepat untuk membiarkan tulisan saya akhirnya menghirup udara bebas. Dengan harapan, siapapun yang membacanya bisa mengambil hikmah dari postingan saya.

(Paragraf yang saya tebalkan adalah tulisan saya di tahun 2015 )
.
*

January 2015

2014 bagi saya adalah sebuah lubang hitam. Saya tersedot ke dalamnya dan seketika merasa kosong, sepi, terbelakang, tidak berguna. Semuanya lebih-lebih dari yang pernah saya rasakan seumur hidup. Padahal sepanjang 23 tahun saya bernafas, merasa sepi dan kosong adalah rutinitas. Namun 2014 mengenalkan saya pada kebaruan akan definisi “menjadi sampah”, “sepi di tengah keramaian”, dan “terasing”. Di bawah naungan 2014, waktu berjalan begitu lambat sekaligus cepat. Dan tanpa saya sadari, 2015 sudah datang begitu saja. Mengenakan sepatu baru dan senyum lebar. Menawarkan banyak pengharapan yang mungkin sebagian besarnya kosong. Cuma bualan. Sama seperti tahun-tahun sebelumnya.

2014 saya buka dengan semangat luar biasa. Saya yang tidak pernah menulis resolusi, bucket list, atau apapun itu, mulai menuliskan beberapa daftar hal yang ingin saya capai di tahun ini. Saat itu saya merasa begitu muda. Begitu bersemangat menyongsong masa depan yang cerah. Namun sampai tanggal 31 Desember pukul 23.59, sembilan puluh persen hal yang saya tulis di balik buku catatan saya tadi nyatanya tidak berhasil saya capai. Semua rencana tentang rutinitas untuk membaca minimal 2 buku sebulan, menulis sesering mungkin di blog, rutin berolahraga. Semua mimpi dan target karir. Pffuuuh! Mereka semua hilang dibawa terbang angin ke laut. Habis dilahap ombak. 

Resolusi-resolusi saya pun sekarang tengah tertidur pulas di dasar samudera.

Namun semuanya tentu salah saya. Semua salah saya. Kenapa mereka tidak tercapai? Kenapa mereka tenggelam ditelan ombak? Itu salah saya. Karena tidak ada yang lebih bertanggunjawab atas hidup saya selain diri saya sendiri. Saya sudah mencatat pedoman ini baik-baik di jidat.

Terlepas dari Januari, tidak banyak yang bisa saya ingat. Seperti yang sudah saya bilang di awal, 2014 kadang bisa berlalu secepat cahaya. Saya kesulitan mencatat hal-hal memorable yang terjadi di sela hari-harinya. Di tahun ini saya hidup lebih menyedihkan dari zombie.

2014 adalah tahun yang sesak akan pikiran-pikiran buruk. Saya yang memang berteman akrab dengan kesedihan, dengan negativity, kemudian nyaris berbuat fatal karena mereka. Berulang kali saya urung menuliskan hal ini, namun ya, tahun 2014 beberapa kali mengenalkan saya pada ide-ide untuk mengakhiri hidup saya sendiri, di tangan saya sendiri. Kadang ketika malam datang dan pikiran-pikiran buruk itu hadir, saya cuma bisa menangis tanpa suara. Saya sering berandai-andai apakah hidup orang-orang di sekitar saya akan menjadi lebih baik jika saya tiada. Orang tua saya tentu tidak perlu malu lagi karena memiliki seorang putri tuna karya yang ijazah S1-nya tidak berguna. Teman-teman saya juga akan terlepas dari beban memiliki teman yang begitu tidak lucu, anti-sosial dan merepotkan. Mereka tidak perlu lagi meluangkan waktu untuk menyindir saya secara subtle. Membujuk saya untuk melakukan hal-hal yang menurut mereka baik dan mudah dilakukan.

Idul Fitri kemarin ketika pulang, saya dengan enggan akhirnya bercerita kepada bulek saya di desa tentang ide-ide buruk saya tadi. Sesuatu yang tentu tidak akan pernah sampai hati saya ceritakan ke orang tua saya sendiri. Dan beliau cuma bisa menatap saya sedih. Sedih sekali. Begitulah, kesendirian dan sepi berhasil memerangkap saya dalam sebuah penjara. Saya yang by nature, a complicated girl, kemudian berubah menjadi gadis dengan pemikiran super ruwet dan mbundet. Hidup terasa seperti labirin yang semua jalannya berakhir buntu. Dan saya terperangkap di dalamnya ketika orang-orang lain tengah berlari, sprinting menuju kehidupan yang lebih baik.

Kadang saya duduk di lantai kamar, bersandar ke tembok, memandang langit-langit, dan tertawa. Menertawakan hidup saya. Menertawakan diri saya sendiri. Betapa menyedihkan. Betapa hidup saya adalah ironi. Dulu waktu saya berumur 10, saya membayangkan diri saya di umur 23 adalah wanita dewasa yang tahu benar hidupnya harus dibawa kemana. Perempuan yang percaya pada dirinya sendiri. Perempuan yang cukup kuat untuk tidak mati diberangus pikiran-pikiran buruk yang kerap menghuni kepalanya.

Saat ini saya merasa belum menjadi perempuan yang sehebat itu. Karenanya saya berpikir untuk meminta maaf pada diri saya di umur ke-10 karena belum berhasil mengabulkan mimpi sederhananya untuk menjadi perempuan yang kuat dan hebat.

Feeling sorry for yourself is a pathetic thing. Indeed. 'Only arsehole does that' Murakami said. And for some reason, I think I am. 

Dalam kamus saya, kebaik-baiksajaan tidak berteman baik dengan 2014. Tahun ini membuat saya ingin menghilang. Poof! Lalu terbang tanpa wujud bersama angin. Seperti hantu.

Namun Tuhan bukan setan. Dan sebagai makhluk Tuhan yang kerap lalai menjalankan kewajibannya, saya merasa cukup beruntung masih diberi kesempatan untuk mengecap nikmat di tahun yang kehadirannya begitu ingin saya hapus dari peradaban manusia.

In summary, 2014 memaksa saya belajar hal-hal baru, mengajak saya untuk berani menginjak tanah asing, memperbolehkan saya mencoret satu daftar tempat yang dari dulu begitu ingin saya kunjungi. To think again, it's not that bad. And I don't deserve to complain about anything actually. Because, who am I? 

I'm just this pathetic human who does not even deserve to breathe the air He gives.

Saya, dalam banyak definisi dan keterangan, adalah, dan CUMA, manusia yang menyedihkan .

Tak lebih. Tak kurang. Dan Tak penting.


*


March 21, 2015

There is a certain fear of revealing so much about yourself on the internet. I started writing something unrelated to my life (except for the good parts and some complaints for the sake of my artistic life) on social medias (all you read from my Facebook statuses now are just random rambles that "magically" bestowed upon me by some invisible forces whenever I finished reading a book, watching movies, daydreaming, etc. I put a pinch of sincere feelings in them, but on a whole, they are not my stories. Not entirely). I trained myself hard on that part because sometimes telling the world about your silly problems is kind of liberating. It's like a guilty pleasure and a sad relief roll into one form. 

One of the perks of being a teenager is you can babble about something you'll regret later PUBLICLY and not be blamed for it because you are just a teenager. And teenager makes mistakes. Teenager does stupid things. It's normal. But I can't do that anymore. Because once you're older, people just seem so judgemental about everything you do. About the things you write, the pictures you upload, the action you take, the novel you read, the pharagraph you choose to quote, the way you dress, the way you live your life, the way you choose a certain principal they deem unusual, and the list goes on. I know I shouldn't have cared of any of that. But I couldn't. I wish I could just say "Whatever. Fuck you all!" and move on. But in reality, people opinions DO affect me. They matter in some way.

I choose to write this on my blog because this is my blog. This is my place. I can write anything here without bothering other people. If you do read this post, that is because you want to. NOT because I shove this on your face news feed and force you to read about my troubled mind and insignificant life.

For a really long time, I've always wanted to write honestly here. Not just the cheesy poems or the oh-so-wise articles, but my story. The honest one. I began to write something like that last month. I did mention about my depression in that post and to be honest it took me seven hours straight to decide whether to put that fact there or not. Whether to write it as 'despression' or 'severe depression'. Should I mention for how long? I think and re-think for quite some time and I did write it anyway.

I followed quite a lot of foreign photographers and have always been an avid reader of their blogs. I marvel at how honest they were in talking about themselves. About their struggles. About their lives which were not all gold and fame and money and flowers and freedom like I thought before. Some of them experienced stuffs that I can't even imagine happened, and for some reason, those posts full of fragility from the people I look up to (and the people that I thought having perfect lives) helped me to cope with my own demons. They show me that we are all just human, with scars and will of being happy, whenever and whoever we are.

It intrigues me to do the same. People will always be judgy whether you want them to be or not to be. So I guess it's okay to be true to myself once in a while. To let the words console me in a way that people can't do.


**Anyhow, it will not be a pretty post. It's all emo and confusing. You've been warned.


-----------------------------------------

As I wrote above, 2014 made me feel like shit for so many reasons. 


I kept thingking to myself: how could a shitty person like me be even more shittier as the time goes by? How could I be a failure after a failure? How could I turn into a sack of disappointments? Of a burden to the people around me?


It was not only once or twice that I did thinking of doing something horibble to myself. Of wanting to injure myself both physically and emotionally. I kept thinking I deserve to be hurt. That I, as the source of pain and disappointment of the beloved people who always support me, need to be punished and do not deserve any happiness. Because I am a piece of garbage. I am useless. I am unworthy. 

I thought perhaps I should have just starved myself or something and let my friends found me rotting a week later. That way my parents would not have to suffer of having a disappointing kid. They can keep the money they used to send me every month to save and live happily with my brother. And perhaps if I'm gone, my friends will not be ashamed of me anymore. I won't be the big rock who always create a ruckus and misunderstandings. Because I am that friend who can't communicate well and seem to hate everyone. I always gave people the wrong impressions. My intentions never be understood by them. When I keep silent, I'm wrong. When I say something, I'm wrong. I'm hanging on the losing end and sometimes I'm getting tired. All of my decisions are never right in their eyes.


The idea of killing myself was like a light switch. It's never completely off. Sometimes I found myself considering the possibility, sometimes I thought it's just so stupid to kill yourself when you still have the chance to live. But the problem is, the light may be ON again someday. And without me knowing, it will pull me again into a very dark tunnel. And I'm not sure if I can get out in time.


The things probably easier if I didn't come from a perfectly good environtment. How can I still be broken and damaged even when I have very supportive parents and cool friends? Clearly the problem is in me. On me. Everywhere in my being. And I don't know how to fix it.


People would probably understand why was I so dirty if I had a house near the garbage dump. "Ah her house must be dirty too. That's why she looks like a beggar." But I came out dirty and stinky from a flower garden. I am the only grayscale person in a perfectly colored photo. 

I clearly am the only wrong piece in the frame. 

******

(April - October) 2016

Sepanjang tahun 2014 dan awal 2015, saya begitu membenci diri saya sendiri, saya sempat berpikiran mungkin menghilang dan mati adalah jalan keluar. Persetan dengan siksa kubur dan semacamnya. Yang saya inginkan saat itu hanyalah POOF, lenyap. Because I was nothing but an embarassement.  I had no purpose. I was shit. I felt like shit. Dan kesimpulan naif yang saya dapat waktu itu adalah, mari mati saja. Hidup pun saya tidak berkontribusi apapun. Saya cuma beban.

I was cornered. Saya tidak tahu harus lari dan bercerita ke mana. Saya orang yang mudah terharu dan menangis. Mungkin karena itulah kadang cerita saya tidak pernah ditanggapi dengan serius. Curhat ke teman pun, saya pikir, mereka tidak akan peduli. Mereka cuma akan berasumsi bahwa saya lebay. Cengeng. Lemah. Dan sebagainya. They're cool people. They probably don't have silly problem like an existential crisis in their life.

So, I was lost. And alone. 

Berita meninggalnya Robin Williams saat itu seperti semacam "dorongan". Saya sempat membaca comment section situs berita luar negeri dan seketika merasa relate dengan beberapa komen di sana. Ada yang bilang kalau Robin Williams itu egois karena meninggalkan keluarganya begitu saja. Lalu beberapa komen di bawahnya menjelaskan, orang-orang yang depresi tidak melihat bunuh diri sebagai tindakan egois. Their mind is twisted in some way. They don't think like normal people do. They think suicide is their greatest sacrifice to the people they love. 'Cause they don't want to cause trouble anymore. Or be a burden to everyone. So they took their own life.

And that's what I thought at that moment..

Ada satu waktu di mana saya merasa 'This is it. I don't think I can go on anymore'. Saya ingat sekali waktu itu pukul 9 pagi, semua penghuni kos sedang pergi, dan saya menyimpan pisau dapur di dalam kamar. Namun mungkin Tuhan masih sayang sama saya dan di saat yang bersamaan bapak saya telepon. Seriously, it sounds like fiction, but my dad indeed called me in this critical moment. Mungkin firasat atau apa, sayapun tak tahu.

Saat itu bapak tanya "Apa kabar, nduk? Sudah makan belum?" dengan suara yang begitu ceria dan pertahanan saya runtuh. Ambyar begitu saja. Saya cuma bisa nangis sambil bilang maaf dan terimakasih. Bapak saya tentu bingung bukan kepalang. I told him everything and I said sorry and sorry and sorry and sorry that I'm not a good daughter, I'm nothing but a burden to both of my parents, and how grateful I am for having a  father like him. I was all mess but somehow I felt a bit relieved that he called me before I did something inexplicably stupid. I owe him my life.

I ended up talking and crying for hours and my dad just said, 'It's fine. It's fine.'

Bapak mengakhiri telponnya dengan kalimat yang begitu sering saya dengar namun kali ini rasanya begitu menohok.

"Kalau nduk senang, bapak juga senang. Jangan dijadikan pikiran. Ada bapak sama mamak. Nduk yang sabar. Semua ada jalannya."

And that's it. That's the last time I had suicidal thought. I promised myself to be strong and to keep living, at least, until I can make them happy and proud of me. They've been spending so much on me, I can't just leave without paying them back a little. 

My dad reminds me that even though I hate myself to death and my friends leave me, hate me, ashamed of me, at least there are still two people (the very best ones in the world for me) who still believe in me and think I'm worthy and deserve of being happy. 

And that's enough.

I've been suicidal free for almost a year now. Selain telpon bapak, making art juga membantu saya belajar menghargai diri saya sendiri dengan lebih baik. Mengingatkan saya kalau saya masih punya sesuatu yang bisa dibanggakan. Saya  nggak seburuk dan setidakberguna yang saya pikirkan.

Buat kamu yang pernah merasa kosong, sendiri, nggak tahu harus kemana, semua jalan rasanya buntu, and everyone's just turning their back on you, I beg you, please, hang in there. 

It's hard. It's GOING TO be hard. And perhaps there will be no consolation from other people that can fix and heal your pain. But you're going to rise. You will. You're not going to let them, those who belittled you, those who thought you're nothing but a coward, those who blamed you, talked bad about you without knowing the whole story, those demons inside you, you're not going to let them win. You won't let them.

Ada satu kutipan dari perempuansore yang hingga saat ini masih saya amini betul kebenarannya.

"Menulislah dan jangan bunuh diri."

Postingan ini ada karena kutipan beliau di atas.

Saya, pada saat itu, beranggapan kalau saya tidak punya siapa-siapa lagi untuk bercerita. I don't blame anyone. Namun saya sudah berada di tahapan jenuh, saya merasa lelah, capek disalahkan. Kenapa? Karena tanpa orang lain menyalahkan dan menggoblok-goblokkan saya, saya sudah melakukannya sendiri. Lebih pedas. Lebih pahit. Lantas ketika saya berusaha memberanikan diri untuk terbuka, bercerita, dan jawabannya nyaris selalu sama. "Lha, kowe ngene og" (Lha, kamu begini sih). "Lha, kowe ngono og" (Lha, kamu begitu, sih.). Saya kemudian merasa sedikit trauma. Bercerita nyatanya tidak selalu berhasil meringankan bebanmu, ada beberapa kasus di mana hatimu justru terasa seperti dicacah-cacah dengan pisau daging. Pilu. Ngilu. Karena nyatanya, orang yang paling kamu percayai pun menyalahkanmu. Memandangmu sebagai kegagalan.

Sejak saat itu saya mulai belajar untuk menelan kesedihan saya sendiri. Bulat-bulat. Terus begitu hingga hati saya berubah kelabu.

Kutipan perempuansore di atas mendorong saya untuk mulai menulis. Untuk mengeluarkan semua unek-unek, masalah, pertanyaan retorik yang selama ini cuma bisa saya telan sendiri. Saya menulis dengan bebas. Tidak peduli dengan alur, pilihan kata, atau tata bahasa. Karena tulisan ini untuk saya. Dan cuma saya sendiri yang akan baca.

Every person who has ever been depressed and suicidal, has something different to cope up with their sadness and bad thoughts. Art and writing are mine. Saya nggak bisa jamin hal yang sama akan berlaku untukmu. Namun satu hal yang saya tahu, menulis akan sedikit banyak membantumu me-review kesedihanmu. Your urge to do something bad to yourself. Dan itu sungguh membantu.

Maka, demi dirimu sendiri, menulislah.

*

December, 2016

Apakah saya masih suka menganggap diri saya sendiri sebagai kegagalan? A failure
Masih.
Sering.
I know I should get help. Tapi jangankan biaya ke psikiater, untuk makan sehari-hari saja saya masih sulit.
I can only hope whatever it is that eaten me from the inside won't triumph at the end. That I will, somehow, survive.
Living is hard. 
And I get tired of it sometimes.

*

Ada waktu di mana saya berharap untuk tidak terbangun lagi di pagi hari. 
Ketika membuka mata dan menyadari bahwa saya masih di sini, still breathing, I got disappointed. 
That's how ugly I sometimes think at some point.
Someone once said, 'Living doesn't mean you are alive.'
That's how I was. 
That's how I am sometimes.

*

Desember selalu berhasil membuat saya merasa lebih melankolis, lebih sedih, lebih retrospektif dari bulan-bulan yang lain. Mungkin karena ia terletak di penghabisan kalendar. Berada dalam pelukannya membuat saya tersadar akan tahun yang sebentar lagi berganti. Lihat, Januari sudah terlihat di belokan gang. Bersiap mampir.

Untuk saya 2016 adalah tahun yang begitu hangat dan bersahabat. Olehnya saya diajari untuk belajar berdiri dan tersenyum. Bukan sesuatu yang sulit memang, namun bangkit di atas kaki saya sendiri setelah 2015 berlalu adalah hal yang pernah saya yakini mustahil. 2016 proves me wrong.

Namun label "hangat dan bersahabat" tidak lantas membuat segala-galanyanya berjalan adem ayem saja di tahun ini. Hidup saya, seperti halnya mungkin hidupmu, atau hidup manusia-manusia lain, selalu butuh sedikit pahit, asin, asem di sela-selanya agar kita tahu betul yang mana yang manis. Yang mana yang namanya bahagia.

Tahun ini saya merasa semakin secluded. Semakin merasa sendiri. Semakin banyak teman-teman yang pergi dan menjauh, mungkin karena menemukan teman baru di kantor baru atau mungkin karena jenuh dengan saya yang merepotkan.

Ralat. Mungkin 'menjauh' bukan kata yang tepat. 'Saya jauhi'. That's the better word.

To be honest, I don't have the right to blame anyone because I'm the one who distanced myself from everybody. Kalau hasilnya membuat orang lain lantas jenuh dan putus asa berteman dengan saya, itu bukan salah mereka. Nyatanya memahami saya memang bukan sesuatu yang mudah. Saya selalu mempersulit semua orang.

Setiap ada teman lama yang mengajak ketemuan, saya selalu serta merta mencari alasan untuk tidak ikut. Entah tidak bisa karena ada janji. Tidak ada uang transport. Tidak ada uang jajan. Dan lain sebagainya.

'Oh, wow. You are an asshole.'

I am.

Kenapa? Kenapa saya melakukan hal tersebut? Apakah saya ingin mengajari orang lain untuk membenci saya? Seperti halnya saya membenci diri saya sendiri?

Alasan lebih tepatnya karena saya malu. I'm so ashamed of myself that I can't even bring myself to meet them.

Di saat yang lain sudah meniti karir sukses, hidup enak, gaji mengalir tiap bulan, sudah mengenalkan calon pasangan ke orang tua, and then there is me.

I don't have anything to tell, to brag, to be proud of. 

And sometimes I think it's getting severe because I'm starting to feel afraid of meeting people, old and new. My room feels like both prison and sanctuary. 

Tuhan, apakah saya gila?

I realized I tend to run away from people the second I thought I hurt them or making them annoyed or disappointed. And i know that's the wrong move because most often than not people thought 'SHE HATES ME' instead of 'Oh, she wants to distance herself from me so that she won't disappoint me anymore.'

I don't know it's just... It's fucking hard to understand me. 


It's hard to be normal.


*

 January 2017

Wow, postingan ini jadi beranak pinak panjang sekali. Sejujurnya saya berniat untuk nge-post ini di awal atau pertengahan tahun 2016, but life happened and I ended up writing more and more and more and more.

Maka mari sudahi saja. Mari letakkan tanda titik di sini. Di bulan di mana semuanya bermulai sekaligus berakhir.

Tidak mudah bagi saya untuk mengunggah tulisan ini ke blog because this is meant to be only for me and I'm the one who can read it and judge it. Mengunggah tulisan ini membuat saya merasa seperti ditelanjangi. It's like giving people the right to have a peek inside my head and tell them that something's wrong there. Something's wrong with me. 

The moment I hit 'publish', those who read this will either think all of this is just one big fat lie, or they'll pity me, scared of me, see me as a freak, crazy, weird, ungrateful human. And knowing myself, thinking about this possibility will most likely trigger another depressive episode.

Namun saya sudah bertekad untuk menulis dengan lebih jujur. To not only spill romantic and sweet words but write honestly about me, for me, no matter how sappy and dark it sounds. Mengunggah tulisan ini juga cara saya untuk bilang kepada kamu yang tengah mengalami hal serupa dengan apa yang saya alami sebelumnya, bahwa kamu tidak sendirian.

You're not alone. I sympathize with what you feel. I know how it feels like to be so helpless that you seek comfort by thinking death is probably the only way. I was like that too at some point.

But I can tell you committing suicide will never be the answer. It feels like it, but it's not. And if I can rise and walk away from that horrible thought, I know you can.

Kamu bisa.

Kamu. Pasti. Bisa.

So, please, hold on.  

You're stronger than what you think.

*

Postingan ini saya beri judul "Rise" karena bagi saya 2016 adalah tahun di mana saya merasa mulai menemukan pijakan kembali untuk bangkit. To rise. Walaupun saya belum bisa sepenuhnya bilang 'saya baik-baik saja', but I'm getting better at appreciating life. I'm getting better at fighting my own demons. And those are improvements. To me.

I found this word very beautiful recently. 

Kinder.

If you're already kind, be kinder this year. Be kinder to yourself. Be kinder to others.

If you can't sympathize on other people's pain, then better don't say anything about it. Do not mock. Do not take it lightly just because you THINK you can endure it well.

You are not weak just because you cry easily or feel something deeply.

You are not weak just because you express your emotions so transparently. 

You are not weak just because you are soft-hearted.

Those are normal because you are human.

You are human and you are ALWAYS worthy of life. 

2016 might have been good or bad for you, but one thing for sure, there's no where to go but up from here. So, let's rise.

Let's rise and fly higher.
*
Photo by Tina Sosna


Footnote:

Hari ini, tanggal 19 Januari, saya berulang tahun yang ke-25.

Untuk satu dan lain hal, saya sengaja mem-publish postingan ini hari ini dan bukan di malam tahun baru seperti postingan-postingan akhir tahun saya yang biasanya.

Kenapa?

Karena saya baru menyadari ternyata isinya begitu personal.

Waktu ngetik tulisan di atas, saya nggak mikir banyak. Because I treated it like a diary. Namun setelah saya pikir ulang, 'wow!'

Intinya saya nggak bisa berkata-kata aja sih. LOL. Tapi bukan berarti saya nggak jadi publish isi postingan yang sesungguhnya. Tulisan saya yang di atas, to put it simply, left unbothered. Nggak terganggu. Mungkin cuma dibenerin kalo ada typo aja sih. Overall, those are pieces of my mind from months to months.

Salah satu alasan kenapa saya memilih untuk publish tulisan ini di tanggal ini juga karena saya ingin membuatnya sebagai suatu cenderamata dari saya kepada diri saya yang lama. A gift for the past. Postingan ini adalah tanda bukti bahwa saya berani melepaskan. An act of letting go from the painful memories. A written evidence that I can rise and walk away from it.

And I know you can do it too.

Saya juga ingin ngasih tahu satu hal yang lupa saya tulis di atas.

Guys, kalau kamu punya masalah self-harm dan self-blame seperti saya, kalau kamu dikaruniai rezeki yang lebih, please datanglah ke psikiater. It doesn't make you a crazy person. It doesn't make you a freak.

I hate this stigma that a large portion of Indonesians still give to those who come for help to a psychiatrist. Like yes, mental illness exists. Dan penyakit kejiwaan nggak cuma gila aja.

Also, having mental illness doesn't mean you are an ungrateful brat.

"Halah, manja banget sih. Gitu aja stress. Gitu aja nangis."

"Mbok kamu bersyukur. Kamu tuh udah dikaruniai ini itu bla bla bla."

You might encounter comments like this from time to time. They might not intend to hurt you when they say it, but they don't know what you feel and face every day. So, do not let these words consume you. Depression nggak kenal kamu kaya atau miskin. Sarjana apa nggak. One can have an empire and a castle on the hill and still be depressed. 

Mempersibuk diri dengan hal-hal yang kamu suka juga cukup membantu. Find an exciting hobby. Atau mungkin seperti saya, resuming hobi yang dulu pernah saya tinggalkan, which is menggambar. Trust me, it helps a lot.

Saya nggak begitu tahu apakah ada lifeline khusus untuk preventing suicide di Indonesia, kalau memang ada, when you are in-crisis and considering of taking your own life, kamu bisa telpon mereka. They will help you. But if not, i might tell you a few things that perhaps can help.

1. Going out. Pergi ke luar. Kadang terkungkung dalam ruangan yang tertutup terlalu lama berdampak kurang baik untuk dirimu sendiri. Do not lock yourself when you're suicidal. Pergi ke luar nggak harus bepergian jauh. Kamu bisa jalan kaki ke luar rumah/kosan atau cuma duduk-duduk di depan rumah melihat jalanan dan orang lalu lalang. Take a breath. Remember, you are not alone.

2.  Ngobrol ke seseorang. Talk to someone you trust. It doesn't have to be your friends. Kalau kamu berada di posisi yang sama dengan saya, yang mana merasa talking to friends is not really an option anymore, kamu bisa coba telpon bapak atau ibumu, a family. Sometimes we just need to be reminded of them, of these beloved people, that they exist. That they always believe in us. 

3. Beri jeda waktu pada pikiran burukmu. When you are depressed and start to think of harming yourself, give yourself a deadline. 'No, I won't harm myself in a week. Saya nggak akan berbuat hal yang fatal selama satu minggu.' Dan selama jeda waktu tersebut, distract yourself. Kamu bisa jalan-jalan ke luar, nonton, bertemu teman lama. Apapun yang bisa mengganggu kamu untuk berpikiran buruk. Do not listen to sad songs. Do not engage yourself in a sad scenario. Distract, distract yourself. Juga usahakan jangan biarkan dirimu sendirian. Being alone can be consoling sometimes,  but other times it's suffocating and only makes it easier for you to think of doing something bad. By the end of the day, kalau dalam kasus saya, i always realize that my problems are temporary and once again I can distant myself from harming myself.


Tips di atas masih banyak kekurangannya so please take it with a grain of salt. I just wrote them based on my own experience and what I think helped me when things get hard. But you still need to go to a psychiatrist if you have the chance to. 

Remember: Suicide is a permanent solution for a  temporary problem. 

Saya nulis ini bukan untuk menggurui atau semacamnya. In fact, I wrote this as a reminder for myself.

So, chin up! You've been through a lot, you are strong!

And as I said before, LET'S RISE!

2017 is going to be our year!  

And also happy 25th birthday to me! xD (tanggal ultah sengaja saya sembunyikan di FB, jadi cuma kamu yang baca postingan ini sampai kelar aja yang tau :D)


***

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Your words aren't just words.

Photo by Rosie Hardy

Pukul 02.25 pagi.

Seharusnya saya sedang menggambar sekarang. Seharusnya. Tapi nyatanya saya justru sibuk scrolling Twitter sambil menangis. Kenapa?

Jadi saya tidak sengaja baca di timeline ada salah satu fansite master dari band yang saya suka yang kemarin bunuh diri. Bayangkan, she's only 15... Lima belas tahun. So young. Some said she was bullied for her appearance. Not by her classmate, but by her own mother. 

Saya yang penasaran kemudian mencari akunnya. Nggak nemu sih, mungkin udah dihapus keluarganya atau gimana. Tapi saya masih bisa baca mentions orang-orang ke dia dari awal Januari. And i feel even sadder because the signs are clearly there.

Berhubung akunnya dihapus, saya nggak bisa baca original tweetnya. Tapi dari jawaban orang-orang yang mention dia, jelas banget dia sering mengeluh for being ugly and useless and such. And people tried to convince her that she's not. That what her mother said was wrong. That she's loved. That the fandom is her family and they will always support her. That she's not alone.

I know this feeling better than anybody. I know how it feels like to be destroyed by words. But she's just too young... I feel really sad  about this that I started crying. I just want to mourn for her poor soul. The pain must have been unbearable.

On her last note, she said this: 

"I ask you to understand that what I did was for my best, my peace is in death and not in life. I did not want to leave them, but the blade insists on piercing my skin and I do not have the strength to hold it (...) I'm sorry, I'm weak. I was weak. 

Do not give up on your dream. Keep running. Do not stop. Society overcame me, but DO NOT LET THEM DO IT WITH YOU."

Sekali lagi saya nggak bisa berhenti menekankan bahwa kata-katamu bukan hanya SEKEDAR kata-kata.

Your words aren't just words. They can make or break people.

Berhematlah dalam mencaci hal-hal yang belum kamu mengerti. Berucaplah yang baik. Respect other people's pain.

Jangan beranggapan bahwa ngomong kasar, mencaci seenak udel under the disguise of a joke adalah hal yang edgy. Yang keren.

No. It's not.

And yes, your word has the power to hurt someone to the point of breaking them.

Some people are lucky enough to survive, but some others are not.

You may be strong, but not all people like you. So, please be gentle with your words.

Do not be the reason of someone losing their self-esteem.

Do not be a dream ruiner.

Please, be kind. We're all just humans.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Selfish.

Image by Yuuta-apple

"If I ever meet God, I would tell Him this
That life is a coffee I never ordered.
I would grab Him by the collar and tell Him
Death is an americano you can't refill."

(RM - Always)

*

(This is a selfish poem.
This is about me and me and me and my selfish self.
Don't read it if you're easily offended.
Don't read it if my title post reminds you of yourself.)

For all this time I wonder what they meant by 'friend'?
I thought I had one or two before,
but now I'm not sure anymore.
Are you my friend?
Am I your friend?
I don't know.
You don't know.
All we did was laughing together but saying shits behind each other.
Is that what friend supposed to do?
If it is then we're friends.
You and I, both.

Oh, how easy it is to throw insults with a smile on.
All with one excuse, "Oh,we're friends anyway."
Oh, how easy it is to judge and blame without knowing the whole story.
Because of what?
Because we're friends anyway.
You can just brush it off and laugh it away.
And I'm left spending my nights plotting how to kill myself tomorrow or another day.

'Well, I'm sorry.'
Sorry?
Are you even sorry?
To you I'm just a fool who knows nothing.
I'm a kid.
I'm a coward. 
What else?
Oh, a clown.
A joke.

What I said was always wrong.
What I was thinking was always wrong.
My opinion is wrong.
My existence itself is wrong.

 It's my fault too for seeking validation in your words.
You can just say 'you're shit' and I'll believe it.
Does befriending me boost your self-esteem?
'Oh yes, this person is shit. Her mind is shit. I'm better than her.'

 To you my point-of-view is never important.
My story is never relevant.
Why would you hear me?
I'm a joke anyway.

"You are depressed? It's your fault."
"You want to kill yourself? It's your fault."
"You feel like trash because of what I'm saying? It's your fault."

My cry-of-help would probably look funny to you.
You won't believe me,
because to you I'm just a weird kid with a twisted mind. 
I'm always exaggerating.
I'm just a cry-baby. 

Sometimes I wonder,
should I slit my wrist in front of you,
and spill the blood on your bed sheet while you're sleeping?
Oh, the urge to see the realization on your face.
Yes, you're the trigger to all of this.
You and your hurtful words.

Should I be dead first for you to take me seriously?
Should all of this be "too late"?
But then you'd say, 'Oh my god, but she looked okay and happy before..'
Idiot.
I was faking smiles and pretending to be numb.
I pretended those words didn't just bulldoze its way into my head and left permanent scars.  
Left permanent scars and became a ghost.
The one that kept telling me, 
'You're wrong.'
'You're a mistake.'
'Everything you do is wrong.'
'Die.'
'Die.'
'Die.'

You gave birth to a demon inside my head 
and you don't even know that.

 You. Never. Know. That.

*

Why can't the world understand me?
I'm trying so hard to fit in and understand them,
but they never once did it to me.
Why can't they get what I meant?
Why can't they get me..