Saturday, June 20, 2009


As is typical, it's been months since I've last blogged. And as is typical, I'm going to skip over the details of most of my existence to blog about one specific topic.

This time? Being unreliable.

A few years ago, someone I was dating told me that I was unreliable, that he couldn't count on me. I was hurt since I feel as though I go out of my way for the people I care about -- and I liked to think that most of the time, I did so without expectation of reciprocation.

At the time, I was working 18-hour days and had an unpredictable schedule -- I never knew if I had to work until the day prior. And when I did know I was free, I let him know.

But this made me unreliable because I couldn't confirm anything until absolutely last minute.

I thought he was being unfair because it was a situation I couldn't really control. I felt like I was already doing everything I could to be there for him... and that he wasn't making the effort on his side to understand that.

But lately, I feel like I've started to WANT some kind of reciprocation -- some effort from the other side. I've realized that I have a ton of really uneven relationships. Relationships where I feel I put in the effort -- I try -- but there's no effort from the other party, or minimal effort at best. Or relationships where I seem to be at someone's beck and call, or they're present at their convenience.

I mean, I know I'm horrible at asking for help. But there really are some situations where asking isn't warranted, since there would be no reason to ask for help if the person had come through to begin with. I want the people around me to stop being unreliable. I want to know that if I need them, they'll be there. Or that they won't put me in a situation where I'd need to seek outside help.

On top of that, I want to know that the sacrifices I make for people are appreciated. That they keep me in mind the same way that I keep them in mind. That I'm not being taken advantage of.

And I think lately, I've been too giving. I need to take better care of myself -- and ask that the people around me take better care of me, too.

My Mommy told me recently that one of her fears is that I'll never find someone who will take care of me. She feels like I'll always be the one taking care of the other person in any relationship. Heck, even with family -- I tend to be the one taking care of the others. I don't even rely on the members of my family to be there for me. I try to do it on my own -- because there's been one too many times where they didn't come through for me. And I'm over it.

I'm over people not being there for me. Or not coming through. Or not appreciating. Or not realizing that I'm not going to be here forever -- just as long as I can stand to be. Just as long that I feel that this is all worth it.

I guess that does make me unreliable, doesn't it? Since I can't guarantee that I'll always be here. Just as long as I can stand it...



Sunday, March 01, 2009

Birthday Apologies

My birthday was yesterday, February 28. I am now 27 years old and am certainly feeling older than I was.

Last night, I experienced something I had never experienced before -- and apparently, in the experience, I upset some of my friends and people I care about.

I have always said that I don't get drunk. Almost everyone who has ever partied with me knows this -- and most people will vouch for me, as I can generally go drink for drink with them.

But I guess I was wrong, because last night, I was not well. Maybe it was the mixing of alcohol types, maybe it's that last week I only slept a total of 7 hours and so my system was weak, but whatever it was, I experienced what everyone else has been talking about. And I didn't like it.

And in my first REAL omg-I-drank-so-much-that-I'm-sick experience, which was quite embarrassing, I found that I hurt some of the people who attended. (I did get sick recently once before this -- but I wasn't drunk. I just didn't feel well in general... this time, I was completely gone.)

It came across that I didn't care people had come to celebrate with me because I often wasn't in the party room with everyone. I stayed outside of the room for the majority of the time... either sleeping at the table outside, sitting on the bathroom floor, and for a time, was in another room altogether as a friend of mine was having a going-away party since he flew out today to move to the mainland, never to return. I also worried people and inconvenienced those who decided to take it upon themselves to take care of me.

I want people to know that I did appreciated that you were there to celebrate with me. And that I'm sorry for my non-presence, both physically and mentally.

There is no excuse in what is or isn't done when under the influence, even though what's said and done isn't in right mind. So, I will not make excuses for anything I did or didn't do that may have upset my friends and loved ones.

Instead, I'm just going to say I'm sorry for upsetting, worrying, hurting you and I love you.


Saturday, February 21, 2009


It's been nearly 3 months since I last blogged. Needless to say, my world hasn't stopped moving -- it's still spinning out of control.

Changes and challenges, irritations and frustrations.

Most recently, what's been hard for me is the change to that which I cling to -- my freedom.

For the last 9 years, I've not lived with my family. I've lived abroad, in dorms, with friends, with significant others... as I've mentioned on multiple occasions, as much as I love my family, being in close-proximity with them is unhealthy for me. The freedom and mobility that I didn't have when I was younger is something I value above many things now -- and I was asked at the end of December to give much of that up.

My grandmother on my dad's side, on Christmas Eve, fell. She, until then, with the exception of taking a reaaaaally long time to walk anywhere due to Arthritis-ravaged knees, was still rather sprite and active. She drove. Went to weekly water exercise classes. Cooked. Whatever.

The fall was the beginning of a significant downturn in her mobility and she is now bed-ridden. As such, she needs 24-hour care -- she needs diapers and bed-baths. She needs to care-taking. And unfortunately, our family cannot afford to have outside help significant enough to not truly disrupt our schedules... so my dad asked me to move in and help.

Give up my apartment. Give up going out. Give up freedom. In exchange for a curfew, zero privacy, and no sleep.

I didn't jump at the opportunity. I said yes because I have a sense of familial obligation... and because I knew I didn't have much choice in the matter since we're financially unable to hire the help for the number of hours I am expected to cover.

So, I moved out of my apartment of 4 years and into my grandmother's house in Manoa. And I try to be home by 10 pm, daily, so that I can take care of her evening needs. And I wake up several times throughout the night to check on her. And the only other person who is making any kind of significant sacrifice is my dad -- who, at this point, has it worse off than I do in terms of lack of freedom.

And you know what? It sucks and it isn't fair for any of us involved (dad, grandma, or me).

Grandma deserves the best care possible -- not whatever it is her tired son and selfish granddaughter can provide. Daddy deserves to SLEEP -- he works overnight and has to be awake throughout the day to give her lunch/dinner and meet with the care-people who visit. And honestly, I think I deserve to play.

I've always tried never to be jealous of my friends, but as of late, I find that I get more and more upset when I look at their lives compared to mine. Many of them have honestly had it easy (at least through my eyes) -- they are well-off or have rarely had to struggle financially for anything as their families can provide for them. Heck some of them don't work. And many haven't really had to sacrifice... ever.

And while my life isn't horrible at all -- especially when I think of all the people in the world who know nothing of the luxuries that I have -- I still get jealous that it seems like I've worked so much harder than so many people and yet, I keep struggling and keep having to sacrifice.

My dad understands that I need any possible shred of freedom I can get my claws on and he pays for someone to come in a few times a month so that I can go out with friends and forget for a bit. I wish I could give him that same courtesy.

But frankly, I'm tired and frustrated with it all.
And it's only been a month and a half.
And I keep asking myself...

How much longer do we have to do this?

My grandma is healthy, short of the lack of mobility. No eating restrictions. No mental health issues. Nothing. She'll be 90 later this year and she could live another 10 years!

But I can't last 10 years doing this.
I don't know if I could even last one.

But... with no other obvious outs...