dupsterofahuman

[dupsterofahuman]

fucking up my second life

So this is basically more than a month after the accident. And this is me spending my second life. Porn, Sleep, Phone and food has been it ever since I was stuck in this bed. Technically, I wasn’t really tied up on my bed. I can use crunches but where else can I go? Besides, I’m kinda scared of using it because I might trip. Which isn’t good for someone who just got an internal fixator two weeks. I mean it may not really be bad, but I don’t want to gamble and end up with another surgery(aside from the final where they’ll remove the fixator) plus  a ton of nagging from my parents. Going back, yes, I am fucking up my second life. I feel depressed from the terrible thoughts of not being able to graduate and stuff. I am basically worst than I was before the incident. Because after the surgery, I promised my self to be more disciplined and productive despite the injury. I told my self that I will be a better human, physically, mentally and spiritually in all the way possible. Which meant, I am not to speak bad words, watch porn and be religious at all cause. But here I am, going back to old habits. Lord, where ever you are, please keep me from these. And dear self, don’t fuck up.

[dupsterofahuman]

#Storytime

Since my good friend Brit made a reflection with regard to her heartbreak, here am I making mine. January XX, 20XX I encountered a vehicular accident. It was around 6:50 AM at CW along an intersection road( which has an upward slope). It was my second time riding a motorcycle from home to school. Since I was 18 and had no driver license( and I just learned it for less than a month) I had to dodge the authorities by using the diversion road, instead of the national highway. I was near the school when the incident happen. I was not really good at upward slopes since I only practiced on a plain road. The incident happened so fast. I lost control, hit a motorcycle and went straight to the wall. I was wide awake after the incident. I was in panic and even stood up after the incident. I tried to ride again, when some of the motorists console me and made me lay down. Then I saw my left leg ripped. There was a lot of blood gushing. I saw the bone, and my vein pulsating. I almost want to faint, but having watch a lot of movies, I refrained. I was wailing hard. I knew I was going to die, but I wasn’t ready. I don’t want to die. I still have a lot of things left unaccomplished. I don’t want to lose my leg. I still want to enter the military. I don’t want to die this early, knowing that I haven’t yet paid my parents back to all the good things and love they gave me. I wasn’t ready to face God with all the long list of sin I have. I wasn’t ready. And so, I kept my eyes wide open. I kept on wailing mercy to God. I kept on screaming for the people to call an ambulance because I don’t want to be an amputee or for someone’s sake die. On the concrete road I lie. I was quiet concern for anyone from our school to see me in my situation. A girl in her uniform screaming for help and bleeding the hell out. I was not that type. I was not vulnerable at school but I was at that moment. I felt as I life was rapidly sucked out of me. It felt surreal and I just want to wake up from that reality. Few minutes later, the medical team arrived and gave me an aid. They bandaged my foot and placed me on a stretcher. They asked me to contact my parents, but I was reluctant. Knowing them, I knew my situation was much of burden. And I don’t want to disturb my mom who was busy at work, and dad, who was out of town. But knowing I have no choice, I contacted Mom, but her dial registered as busy. And honestly, it was a tone of both disappointment and relief. Disappointment because Mom isn’t available when I needed her. Relieved, because I can’t tell her my situation. Despite the internal battle, I decided to give the phone to the rescue team and let them contact Dad.When we arrived at the hospital, nothing much was really done. Aside from the usual protocol where they transferred me to the hospital bed near/on the emergency room. Then, I was asked questions about the incident while someone gave me anti tetanus shot, conducted skin trials for antibiotics, and retrieved blood specimen. I was panicking, because I knew moments from now, the pain will surge. And so, I asked the medical staff when I’ll receive a surgery. They didn’t gave me a clear answer, and told me it depends on the surgeon’s schedule. I felt mad and hopeless because I really thought I’ll lose my foot if it was left undone and bleeding for that long. At that moment, I just let myself cry and pray forgiveness to all the terrible things I’ve done. I just let it all out. I’ve cried and prayed by singing worship songs. At that point. I knew I was done.

[dupsterofahuman]

#MOTIVATIONALPOSTERMONDAY

[dupsterofahuman]

Study Motivation

So I’m in a situation right now that I think a lot of you can relate to. It’s the end of exam period, one exam left and all nighters, cramming and crying have left me exhausted and with no motivation left to study for that last subject on the list. It’s not practical, I see nothing I can gain in studying it.

In the last few days I tried a lot of things to help motivate me :

- studying somewhere else

- switching up the routine

- telling myself I’ll get a reward once I’m fnished

and so on. I even wrote out a list of why I should be studying, what should motivate me and why I feel so down right now.

Nothing worked.

As I was about to just give up or to try somehow, in a blur of sighs and grey and wanting to sleep, to study the material I have to learn,  I stumbled about someone telling me something:

“I think it is a bad idea to study that subject of yours in uni.”

And I asked that person, why would you think that?

“You won’t need much of the maths you learn in your courses for work later on. You don’t need that math for your life.”

And I was stunned. Because, can’t that person just see?

And I explained.

I explained, that I don’t study maths because it’s practical or because I’ll need it later on. I don’t even know by now if I want to work as a mathematician later in life. And you know what? I don’t need to want to do that in order to study maths in uni.

Because maths is not about that.

It’s about challenging yourself to constantly keep improving. To try your best, just to be told that that’s just enough to barely pass. To try and to try and to improve, again and again and again, and to teach yourself on the way a better way of thinking, a better way of doing thinks.

I don’t study maths for the maths, I study it to improve my thinking and to improve myself, in every way possible, in order to become a better person than I was yesterday.

Hell, most people that finish the maths degree that I’m doing don’t work as a clean mathematician afterwards. They do start-ups, they do programming, they help firms to critically review their funding and logical structure. 

And as I explained to that random person on the internet why I, a person that always struggled with maths at school, would study it now at university for over 5 years, I found the motivation again that had left me. 

I don’t study it because I need it in life. It doesn’t matter if I’ll need this one subject later on. That’s not why I’m here. That’s not why I’m hanging on.

Thank you random person for making me remember that.

So: If at one point, all motivation leaves you, imagine someone criticising you for your chosen field of study. 

And whilst you passionately tell them why you think they’re wrong, go find again that spark that you were missing.