What does it feel like to be “other”? I guess I never knew until I became the “other one”. The one who is isolated and the one who doesn’t know what to say or what to do. There have been so many times in the last years where I’ve felt like an embarrassment to myself. I’ve also felt like I’ve lost myself. This was the time when we were supposed to find ourselves. We were bright eyed and busy tailed and we thought that everything would be exactly as we imagined. We had no concept of reality and we were selfish. We still are.
I’m not sure where reality exists. Maybe it’s somewhere between the ears on either side of my head. We are often told what we think is what creates our reality. I’m not saying that there isn’t a benefit in therapy and shit if I could still afford it I would be trying it to help myself because I don’t know who the woman in the mirror is. She cries without control. She takes and never gives. On the outside she’s presenting what she hopes is the image of the adult but inside she’s still so scared and quite frankly stupid.
There I was— *record scratch sound* in the middle of an office filled with Japanese people in my stained winter coat that I can’t afford to have dry cleaned. How did I get here? *turns to break the 4th wall* anyways.. how did I get there? If I were a person that didn’t over analyze I wouldn’t have studied the things I did or written the things I did so bear with me.
Anyways, so I was in the middle of an open concept sweat shop that they call a Japanese office in my nasty Calvin Klein jacket. I’m that moment I felt so small even though in comparison I was actually a fucking giant. There it was that “gaijin” feeling. That fucking feeling. You don’t belong and you never will. You don’t belong in our office because you don’t know how to behave. You don’t know how to shut up and follow the rules. You don’t know how to swallow your pride and do the work that no one else wants to do.
You know what’s the funny thing about “gaijin”? The kanji characters itself are 「外人」this literally means “outside person”. Sometimes being “other” is built directly into the language with no interpretation required. And yes I know some of you are thinking, “Well shouldn’t you actually say.. 外国人 (gaikokujin)?” As if this is somehow better. A slightly more polite version that translates into “outside country person”. Wow. So much better. Sounds great. There’s a reason only dumbass Trump supporters use words like foreigner in 2019. It’s because the language is dated. Our language shapes our world.
So what’s the problem with being an outcast? Haven’t I been one my whole life living in Utah as a non-Mormon who liked to dye her hair and listen to heavy metal? Yes and no. I’ve reached a new level— adult level. At this new level people like to shame you even more deeply that you could’ve ever imagined. They can slice you with a glance. Maybe that dress was too short. Or they saw a glimpse of your tattoo on your ankle. How unprofessional. Gaijin must be ruining our country if they think they can show up to work like that. Just like that, you’ve become the work pariah.
I’m being swallowed into the whole and I don’t know how to distinguish myself anymore. I hate to admit it but I’ve gotten by by bowing my head. If at all possible I try to avoid eye contact with anyone when on the train. I can sometimes feel eyes on me and I squirm away like a bug placed under a hot ray of heat from a microscope. I’m being torn apart bit by bit by their gazes and swallowed in the crowds. I’ve been swept into a dust pan like ashes. My spirit is broken and I need help to repair it but I’m still out here, alone.
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Sunday, October 6, 2019
Restless Reflections
I'm sitting here writing this in the middle of the night next to my snoring boyfriend. October has come and 2019 will soon be behind us. This year passed in such a blur. There were so many times that I wasted the day wallowing in my own loneliness. Of course there were many hardships-- most of which came in the form of finances and work related exhaustion.
In this last year, I've gained more knowledge about Japan than I ever even wished to know. If I had to take a guess I would say that I've probably met over 500 Japanese people through my job. I've encountered a lot of serious personalities, a lot of uncomfortable small talk, and many times I just wanted to put my head through the window (just kidding-- there's no windows in my office because I work in a dungeon).
I've seen a lot of the good and a lot of the bad that this place has to offer. I wish I could take little Alie up in my arms and tell her that every country and every place has it's ups and downs. When I was younger all I could see was Japan as this sanctuary where everything in my life would suddenly come together like missing pieces in a puzzle. In a way, some parts of my life have clicked into place but at the same time they've managed to become wedged apart in other ways. As I am growing up I am realizing that life will constantly try to throw a wrench in your plans. When one piece comes together another one may already be dislodging at the same moment.
To anyone who knows me, it's no surprise that I am skeptical of the future and often find myself wasting time over worries that actually have no merit in the here and now. I decided tonight to reminisce on some of the older posts on this blog (don't try to find them cause they're private yo lol das some embarrassing emo shit) and I stumbled upon some of my Japan fever dreams as well as some of the stuff that I wrote when I first came here and I was so unbearably alone and depressed.
I wouldn't say that now is a complete 180 to the Alie that came here in 2017 with no clue besides the love of Japan in her heart. But I have learned that no matter how isolated I feel, it's never really true. Another post that I wrote back at the beginning of 2018 described how much I missed my boyfriend after only knowing him for a few weeks. To be honest, at the time I really only had a small idea of who he was but of course a love-stricken heart doesn't know any better. All I wanted was the chance to share a day together and sleep side by side. In my romantic dream world we would cuddle and sleep peacefully side by side probably something like a god damn Disney movie. The reality is he sounds like a chainsaw when he sleeps and he steals all of my blankets. Most days I wanna push him off the bed so I can get a better sleep by myself. But when I read that post, a flicker of that feeling rose in my chest again. I need to appreciate what is here in front of me right now.
After reminiscing on that feeling for a moment, I reached out to fix his hair as he slept soundly (and loudly). He looks calm when he sleeps and the contrast of his inky black hair, long eyelashes, and pale skin make him look like a sleepy child without a care in the world. Before he fell asleep he had looked up at me with mildly blood shot eyes that caught the bedside light. When his brown eyes caught the light I realized how beautiful and warm they looked. I wondered if my own eyes could be that beautiful too. I have never liked my own brown eyes. Can loving someone else somehow help me love myself more too? He murmured 大好き (I love you) before passing out. I've never met someone who says I love you so earnestly and openly as he does. In a single day the phrase can leave his mouth up to twenty or thirty times. He's defying the standards of Japanese people while adhering to them all at the same time. He's the most astounding of all the Japanese people I've met.
I'm faced with problems that I know I will look back on later in this same blog post with insight and knowledge that I can't possibly know now and that scares the hell out of me. I want future me to come to me like that one weird Christmas story and relay to me all the shit that will go down in the next 3 years or so. Unlike high school, which I truly thought would be the most unpredictable time in my life, this is truly that time.
I know a few concrete facts. I need to change my job. What I'm doing now isn't enough and I'll never be satisfied being some under appreciated and overworked 英会話 teacher... which isn't really even like being a real teacher at all. Fact two: I want to stay with my boyfriend. In case you couldn't pick up by now, me finding a career that fulfills my life and staying with my boyfriend aren't exactly matching goals considering he lives in Tokyo. Sometimes my desire to stay by his side really clouds my judgement for what is right for myself. But I know he wants me to do what's right for me and he's never once tried to convince me to stay. He's my first love which some may be shaking their head at with the knowledge of someone much older or experienced than I am-- but the love that I have for him has only been growing over time. We have been growing over time. How can we continue to grow together?
But alas that's the future so maybe I should practice one more exercise in staying in the now by covering my surroundings one more time. It's Monday October 7th, 12:44 AM. I'm nestled in my fuzzy neon pink pajama pants with another fluffy blanket on top of that. Maximum comfort. My laptop is propped up on my knees while I type away in the darkness. I'm listening to Pierre XO (underrated YouTube artist) on my headphones to drown out the sound of Masa's snoring. He has rolled over onto his side and his hand wandered over to press against mine even while I'm writing. Even in his sleep he can't go a second without holding my hand. I might usually gripe about this or shove his heavy hand away, right now I'm simply enjoying the warmth of someone who loves me at my side. I want to appreciate it all more and more. Who knows what tomorrow brings-- so what's the point in straying from the now?
In this last year, I've gained more knowledge about Japan than I ever even wished to know. If I had to take a guess I would say that I've probably met over 500 Japanese people through my job. I've encountered a lot of serious personalities, a lot of uncomfortable small talk, and many times I just wanted to put my head through the window (just kidding-- there's no windows in my office because I work in a dungeon).
I've seen a lot of the good and a lot of the bad that this place has to offer. I wish I could take little Alie up in my arms and tell her that every country and every place has it's ups and downs. When I was younger all I could see was Japan as this sanctuary where everything in my life would suddenly come together like missing pieces in a puzzle. In a way, some parts of my life have clicked into place but at the same time they've managed to become wedged apart in other ways. As I am growing up I am realizing that life will constantly try to throw a wrench in your plans. When one piece comes together another one may already be dislodging at the same moment.
To anyone who knows me, it's no surprise that I am skeptical of the future and often find myself wasting time over worries that actually have no merit in the here and now. I decided tonight to reminisce on some of the older posts on this blog (don't try to find them cause they're private yo lol das some embarrassing emo shit) and I stumbled upon some of my Japan fever dreams as well as some of the stuff that I wrote when I first came here and I was so unbearably alone and depressed.
I wouldn't say that now is a complete 180 to the Alie that came here in 2017 with no clue besides the love of Japan in her heart. But I have learned that no matter how isolated I feel, it's never really true. Another post that I wrote back at the beginning of 2018 described how much I missed my boyfriend after only knowing him for a few weeks. To be honest, at the time I really only had a small idea of who he was but of course a love-stricken heart doesn't know any better. All I wanted was the chance to share a day together and sleep side by side. In my romantic dream world we would cuddle and sleep peacefully side by side probably something like a god damn Disney movie. The reality is he sounds like a chainsaw when he sleeps and he steals all of my blankets. Most days I wanna push him off the bed so I can get a better sleep by myself. But when I read that post, a flicker of that feeling rose in my chest again. I need to appreciate what is here in front of me right now.
After reminiscing on that feeling for a moment, I reached out to fix his hair as he slept soundly (and loudly). He looks calm when he sleeps and the contrast of his inky black hair, long eyelashes, and pale skin make him look like a sleepy child without a care in the world. Before he fell asleep he had looked up at me with mildly blood shot eyes that caught the bedside light. When his brown eyes caught the light I realized how beautiful and warm they looked. I wondered if my own eyes could be that beautiful too. I have never liked my own brown eyes. Can loving someone else somehow help me love myself more too? He murmured 大好き (I love you) before passing out. I've never met someone who says I love you so earnestly and openly as he does. In a single day the phrase can leave his mouth up to twenty or thirty times. He's defying the standards of Japanese people while adhering to them all at the same time. He's the most astounding of all the Japanese people I've met.
I'm faced with problems that I know I will look back on later in this same blog post with insight and knowledge that I can't possibly know now and that scares the hell out of me. I want future me to come to me like that one weird Christmas story and relay to me all the shit that will go down in the next 3 years or so. Unlike high school, which I truly thought would be the most unpredictable time in my life, this is truly that time.
I know a few concrete facts. I need to change my job. What I'm doing now isn't enough and I'll never be satisfied being some under appreciated and overworked 英会話 teacher... which isn't really even like being a real teacher at all. Fact two: I want to stay with my boyfriend. In case you couldn't pick up by now, me finding a career that fulfills my life and staying with my boyfriend aren't exactly matching goals considering he lives in Tokyo. Sometimes my desire to stay by his side really clouds my judgement for what is right for myself. But I know he wants me to do what's right for me and he's never once tried to convince me to stay. He's my first love which some may be shaking their head at with the knowledge of someone much older or experienced than I am-- but the love that I have for him has only been growing over time. We have been growing over time. How can we continue to grow together?
But alas that's the future so maybe I should practice one more exercise in staying in the now by covering my surroundings one more time. It's Monday October 7th, 12:44 AM. I'm nestled in my fuzzy neon pink pajama pants with another fluffy blanket on top of that. Maximum comfort. My laptop is propped up on my knees while I type away in the darkness. I'm listening to Pierre XO (underrated YouTube artist) on my headphones to drown out the sound of Masa's snoring. He has rolled over onto his side and his hand wandered over to press against mine even while I'm writing. Even in his sleep he can't go a second without holding my hand. I might usually gripe about this or shove his heavy hand away, right now I'm simply enjoying the warmth of someone who loves me at my side. I want to appreciate it all more and more. Who knows what tomorrow brings-- so what's the point in straying from the now?
Saturday, April 13, 2019
Breakdowns and Beautiful Blossoms
Hey all,
I know I've been doing a bang-up job of keeping this blog up to date but after my 700th breakdown since moving to Tokyo, I thought this would be a great time to elaborate a bit more.
My life is full of really high-highs and really low-lows. I was spoiled all throughout the month of March by the company of my boyfriend taking a stay-cation at my house as well as my parents and best friend who stayed with me for one of the most turbulent yet amazing weeks so far in Japan. There is nothing like family. Though there may be arguments, petty jabs, and general tiredness from sightseeing, I would honestly rather be bickering with them any day than be alone in silence.
Silence. A concept that I am not unfamiliar with and something that I would like to say that I genuinely enjoy. I never thought I would dread the silence. I never thought that I would play up to 6 hours of podcasts a day just to keep the silence away. My house is constantly filled with music, videos, and podcasts to keep my own thoughts away from myself. I don't want to admit the extent to which my breakdowns have taken me. I really don't want to acknowledge how many times I cried so hard my chest hurt and my eyes swelled shut. I don't really know why the tears come anymore but sometimes the sadness comes inside me, invades me, strangles me until my throat is burning and I can think of nothing to ease the fatigue except sobbing until I can cry no more.
I'm not boasting about the person I've become. I'm a genuinely needy and probably depressed person who cannot afford or find psycological help in a foreign country was not the look I was going for. Sitting here and writing this blog post at 2 a.m. just to listen to the tapping of the keyboard instead of silence was not what I would call "goals". Although I could sit here and beat myself up on a blog, I won't. I think I can do a great job belittling myself while chilling in the dark alone. I want to try to give myself credit for what I've done, how far I've come, and how genuinely FUCKING HARD this is. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but since day one I've had some unseen challenges and dark Babadook demons in my closet waiting to come out and bring me to the knees on my kitchen floor to cry (been there done that).
But, I know that I can come out on top. I know that I did all this for a reason. There are moments, however fleeting, that I feel this peace in my loneliness-- as if I'm not really alone somehow. For example, a few weeks ago I was hanging out in the super crowded and touristy area of Ueno for the cherry blossom festival. Everyone was posed for pictures, recording video, trying to get the best angle for an Instagram post. To be frank, no one gave a fuck about the cherry blossoms themselves. I decided to put the phone down, purchase some local yakisoba and a beer and take a seat under a cherry blossom tree. The petals were falling down like a sweet milky pink rain. My yakisoba noodles were salty and a bit vinegary with the pickled radish garnish on top. When it mixed with the dry acidity of my beer it created a sweet sting in my mouth. I drank that beer slowly (mostly cause I hate beer) and watched those trees intently. Again, I felt tears sting my eyes because crying might be my favorite new hobby. But I didn't cry. In that moment, I felt like someone was there with me (the Babadook demon?) and I didn't feel an ache deep inside my soul anymore. I said a toast to the trees, to the sky, to the unknown visitor who had joined me that day. Basically, I keep living here for those moments. Those sweet, beautiful, probably insignificant moments are the ones that I will never forget. Drinking a beer under a sakura tree with a friendly presence in the atmosphere watching over me. Yeah, that's pretty fucking rad.
I could easily contrast my awesome tree moment to how many times I refused to go out, how many times that I had an anxiety attack on the crowded streets of the city, how many times I protested to my boyfriend to just stay one more night so I didn't have to sleep in the dark alone. I'm not proud of that girl. She is too vapid, vulnerable, and susceptible to her emotions. Is she another side of me that I never faced before? How do I keep fighting this battle? Sometimes I don't know the answer. I just want to cry until it hurts. I just want to eat 7-11 food alone in my bed. But the cherry blossom moments, they call to me. They call me out of the dark cave that I call my house and into reality where I'm bound to face things that I hate to see and things that I love to see.
Maybe right now I miss my family and friends more than ever. Having them around was the sweetest treat a lone traveler could ask for. Their words of encouragement let me know that what I'm doing has meaning, what I've done is brave, and the life I've built for myself isn't just this house of cards that could fall down at any moment.
This isn't over. I'm not over. Thanks fam.
I know I've been doing a bang-up job of keeping this blog up to date but after my 700th breakdown since moving to Tokyo, I thought this would be a great time to elaborate a bit more.
My life is full of really high-highs and really low-lows. I was spoiled all throughout the month of March by the company of my boyfriend taking a stay-cation at my house as well as my parents and best friend who stayed with me for one of the most turbulent yet amazing weeks so far in Japan. There is nothing like family. Though there may be arguments, petty jabs, and general tiredness from sightseeing, I would honestly rather be bickering with them any day than be alone in silence.
Silence. A concept that I am not unfamiliar with and something that I would like to say that I genuinely enjoy. I never thought I would dread the silence. I never thought that I would play up to 6 hours of podcasts a day just to keep the silence away. My house is constantly filled with music, videos, and podcasts to keep my own thoughts away from myself. I don't want to admit the extent to which my breakdowns have taken me. I really don't want to acknowledge how many times I cried so hard my chest hurt and my eyes swelled shut. I don't really know why the tears come anymore but sometimes the sadness comes inside me, invades me, strangles me until my throat is burning and I can think of nothing to ease the fatigue except sobbing until I can cry no more.
I'm not boasting about the person I've become. I'm a genuinely needy and probably depressed person who cannot afford or find psycological help in a foreign country was not the look I was going for. Sitting here and writing this blog post at 2 a.m. just to listen to the tapping of the keyboard instead of silence was not what I would call "goals". Although I could sit here and beat myself up on a blog, I won't. I think I can do a great job belittling myself while chilling in the dark alone. I want to try to give myself credit for what I've done, how far I've come, and how genuinely FUCKING HARD this is. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but since day one I've had some unseen challenges and dark Babadook demons in my closet waiting to come out and bring me to the knees on my kitchen floor to cry (been there done that).
But, I know that I can come out on top. I know that I did all this for a reason. There are moments, however fleeting, that I feel this peace in my loneliness-- as if I'm not really alone somehow. For example, a few weeks ago I was hanging out in the super crowded and touristy area of Ueno for the cherry blossom festival. Everyone was posed for pictures, recording video, trying to get the best angle for an Instagram post. To be frank, no one gave a fuck about the cherry blossoms themselves. I decided to put the phone down, purchase some local yakisoba and a beer and take a seat under a cherry blossom tree. The petals were falling down like a sweet milky pink rain. My yakisoba noodles were salty and a bit vinegary with the pickled radish garnish on top. When it mixed with the dry acidity of my beer it created a sweet sting in my mouth. I drank that beer slowly (mostly cause I hate beer) and watched those trees intently. Again, I felt tears sting my eyes because crying might be my favorite new hobby. But I didn't cry. In that moment, I felt like someone was there with me (the Babadook demon?) and I didn't feel an ache deep inside my soul anymore. I said a toast to the trees, to the sky, to the unknown visitor who had joined me that day. Basically, I keep living here for those moments. Those sweet, beautiful, probably insignificant moments are the ones that I will never forget. Drinking a beer under a sakura tree with a friendly presence in the atmosphere watching over me. Yeah, that's pretty fucking rad.
I could easily contrast my awesome tree moment to how many times I refused to go out, how many times that I had an anxiety attack on the crowded streets of the city, how many times I protested to my boyfriend to just stay one more night so I didn't have to sleep in the dark alone. I'm not proud of that girl. She is too vapid, vulnerable, and susceptible to her emotions. Is she another side of me that I never faced before? How do I keep fighting this battle? Sometimes I don't know the answer. I just want to cry until it hurts. I just want to eat 7-11 food alone in my bed. But the cherry blossom moments, they call to me. They call me out of the dark cave that I call my house and into reality where I'm bound to face things that I hate to see and things that I love to see.
Maybe right now I miss my family and friends more than ever. Having them around was the sweetest treat a lone traveler could ask for. Their words of encouragement let me know that what I'm doing has meaning, what I've done is brave, and the life I've built for myself isn't just this house of cards that could fall down at any moment.
This isn't over. I'm not over. Thanks fam.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)