Wednesday, 18 September 2013

Stockholm Nightmare.

The second day after I wrote my first post and I'm back here again. What's with this sudden addicted passion of blogging?

Nah. The reason why I'm back here the moment I woke up is because I had a nightmare.

Have you ever heard of the Stockholm Syndrome? You may go search it up and read about it.

I was curious yesterday.
I went to see the screenshot I took of my problem back in October ~ December last year. (Yea, I went back to see those screenshots via a Whatapps media history with one of my friend I sought help from. In my phone I have already erased all traces of that problem.)

It was just as simple as looking at those past messages via a screenshot.
And I had nightmare base on that.

The nightmare was so clear, it is scary. And yet it is not clear for the awaken me. I can't recall the voice or the face from the nightmare but the rapidly pounding heart still reminds me of that as fear.
Then I realise, all I thought I had as an emotion for a man, was nothing more than Stockholm Syndrome. It was the lack of physical abuse that makes me misunderstood my own feelings. I allowed myself to think that any other form of stress, fear, humiliation and insults he incurred to me is a form of bizarre kindness. It was that kind of idiocy. Really, I recall telling people that he is "kind" and that I had any idiotic form of affectionate emotion towards him. (Let me roll in guilt and regrets LOL) Too late for me to only realise that now, and what is the point of realising it now.

Ever since I broke out of the situation, I have already registered that as my source of fear. However, it is not until today that I realise all the time I had in the past "enjoying" my mental torture could actually be Stockholm Syndrome. I am not some psychologist (DUH) so I'm just using a term I have known of to blanket this "phenomenon".

It was really just fear. Fear of being forced to change. Being reminded to change EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY FOR ALMOST 3 MONTHS. To be reminded to change the way you are, shallowly, by someone you are afraid of. Someone that is definitely capable of demonstrating mere physical overpowering.

My physical attribute (^ that one particularly) had not been any of my inferiority until being brainwashed EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY FOR ALMOST 3 MONTHS into thinking that it is an inferiority of me. And also, being persuade by this person I fear EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY FOR ALMOST 3 MONTHS to make this shallow, unnecessary, unwanted physical change.

It is how you can scold a kid an idiot for everyday of his life as he recalls, and he really thinks he's an idiot.

Let me go back to talking 'bout that nightmare~?
It was him beside me in my room. (Though he never knew where I lived, but him knowing my address would be the worse thing for me.) I suppose we are "lying" next to each other though I was bound and unable to move or perhaps I can't because it's a dream. And he was doing some physical shit that I utterly dislike. Then my brain in the dream was thinking of calling for help (?) I don't know how to explain this, but the feeling I had was like the need to contact someone for help while being abducted. But of course, my dream ain't gonna be that kind to let me off. Then my phone vibrated, while being under his custody. Like some idiotic abducted woman in dramas that tries to reach for the phone thinking the bad guy wouldn't notice. (Hello, brain. He is just "beside" you.) But instead of how drama would normally have it with the bad guy being BAAAAAD~ and beat the shit outta you, his voice in my nightmare was threatening me with a ironically gentle but firm tone and equally ironic "kindness" in action like hugging and whatever fuck shit. I think he said something like "You want to get your phone? Should I help you to take a look who it is? Or are you afraid to show me your phone?" Then the nightmare turned into black vision like being blindfolded. But it wasn't close to waking up, because the black is part of the nightmare. 

And this whole nightmare reminded me how there is no way I really felt any affectionate emotion towards him. It was probably just fear.

To my friends who tried to contact me during that movie that you guys had bought my ticket but I did not pick up your calls. If you noticed who was sitting beside me during the movie and I suppose this post tells you why I couldn't pick up your call. Neither do I dare to. Actually, I was relieved to see you guys but it was such a shame that couldn't leave with you guys that day after the movie. 
(Why am I saying this now LOL)

And to those who wonder why I gets annoyingly proud telling people I am flat-chested. It was ^that physical attribute.
I wonder if I will feel more relieved after this post but well, I'm pretty glad I am some where to talk about this.

First post.

Since this is the first post after a long time away from blogging, I shall start with a disclaimer.
Yeap, pardon this serious tone...... Or really? Does this sound serious to you?

This blog is nothing fun to read.
Because the person writing behind the screen, knocking on tiny little keys at 4 am in the morning is neither a fun person nor a person who leads a bombastic life.
And, this little dull bugger also writes pretty meaningless stuff which is also, stressing it as much as I could, nothing worth your time pondering over. It's opinion of a mere little dull bugger who perhaps had never seen enough in her life.

Note my words, I wrote "nothing worth your time pondering over" so... Take everything you read here with a pinch of salt, a dash of pepper or maybe a cup of sugar and well, eyeball a little bit of water for solvent.
(Sorry, I did not just provide a recipe for some marinate. Though you can put soy sauce to taste for a real marinate for chicken wings............ Of course, not with a cup of sugar in it.)

One of the reasons I shouldn't start writing a blog or some shit.
I get too carried away typing.


Oh, of course... Occasionally, I might actually share about my life... like real... boring life........ LOL
I should try blogging like a girl in adolescence. (I probably pass that phase already.) But you get what I mean. Which girl in the world would be typing away nonsense at 4 am in the morning?

Not to mention. COMPLETE NONSENSE.

Okay, I'm running out of nonsense to type and recipe for marinate to share.
Did I also mention that I do not decorate my post with much variation of font size, pictures or colors?