I guess I need to re-think and re-allocated the amount of time I spend with certain people.
During this week, so much time spend on work and none was spent on myself. So hence I'm dedicated this little bit of time to reflect about the happenings this week.
Every single day I left work at 7am and reached home at 7.30pm or, the latest to date, 8.30pm. And because so much time was spend on work, I didn't want to waste any of the remaining time of the day with people who don't even know how to appreciate my time.
Just take for example – my family.
My mum spends 12 hours of her time in front of the computer and refuses to budge even when I plead her that I need her for something. Instead, she turns her anger on me for disturbing her game that made her lose.
My dad is away from home 70% of the time and I rarely see him. Even when he’s at home, he would only sleep – that’s how the rest of the 30% of his time was spent.
My brother has his own life and is the person I least want to disturb and bother when I have time. That’s because he has his time spent wisely, or otherwise, on the things that he likes, for example archery. But if he is willing he use his time on me, of course, I’ll gladly accept and talk with him about almost anything, except life and love.
However, as much as I’ve said all these, I’ll eventually see them when I return from work so it doesn't really matter. But I’ll never want to sit down with them and have some family talk – that is wasting time I swear; I’ll only sit with brother to talk.
Another group of people would be the kind where they hardly care about your opinions and just do whatever they want and like, putting you only in last priority.
This weekend I spent my time on a sleepover and I really felt so terrible. I insisted on going home after one night even though I can stay over for another.
I had nothing to eat for breakfast because I woke up earlier – a habit of mine now because of work – and my last meal was 16 hours before. So gastric came, mild at first, and I thought it would not worsen so fast. There was no food at home and we couldn’t really cook because someone else was using the stove. So in the end we were just waiting for the stove to be available.
About two hours later, I was offered food, which I’m so thankful for because I had little energy left to move to eat. It was milk tea, not a good choice for breakfast, and a piece of “kuay” that was so hard to swallow and every bite has to be accompanied by a mouthful of milk tea afterwards in order for it to go down the esophagus. I refused the second piece even though I kind of need it because I think I’ll vomit if I ate another piece.
Apparently the food wasn’t good enough to subside the gastric pain.
At that point of time I was angry. I had no idea why I was waiting for food to be cooked for me instead of just heading downstairs to the coffee shop to have a meal instead. So I went back to the bedroom trying to sleep, thinking that the pain might subside a little, but yet it did not.
But because I showed a little of my mood I was blamed for not willing to wait for the stove to be available. It was so terrible feeling because it wasn’t because I was not willing to wait but it was because my stomach and gastric couldn’t wait.
I just kept quiet after the accusation – what for explaining to someone who doesn’t even care about your condition? Even if it’s not gastric, I’m still hungry and had little strength left. I would have appreciated it better if you just kept mum instead of specially messaging me who was “dying” in the room.
I cried, and was found out that I did so. But I wasn’t offered an apology for all the wait and all the pain that I went through.
Another hour later, I was finally offered instant noodles, but the pain was already quite bad, and I had almost no energy to move. I remembered that I tried to stand and walk to the dining area but after a few steps I knelt down on the floor instead. It was such a horrible feeling and I probably swear a little that I wouldn’t want to sleepover again.
It was simply because I wasn’t cared for, whether or not I was hungry or in pain. I was just left in a corner; you do your things, I do mine and you just didn’t care. I acted happier after that meal but deep down I was still torn apart by that incident, especially when I read the SMS that was sent to me.
And hence, the above italised sentence – “I guess I need to re-think and re-allocated the amount of time I spend with certain people.”
Like spending time with people who was physically with you but mentally in the dreamland, or people whom only cares about themselves when you were with them, like my family and the sleepover incident.
I mean I can still hang out with you, it’s just the amount of time that I spend when I’m with you. I would rather spend it on myself, set up a blogshop to sell some things off, or just write and indulge in my own imaginative world. But maybe I would never want to specially allocate a day or two just for you ever again.
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