Do you know what disappointment feels like?



I had a fair share of disappointment last year that I could succinctly describe that familiar feeling of being let down and crestfallen. Disappointment debilitated and aroused nerve endings at the same time – it was such a bizarre situation to be in, alternating between feeling numbed out and hollow for one instance to feeling overtly aware of the stinging hurt in the next instance.

Oh hadn’t I mentioned it too, that more often than not, disappointment walked hand in hand with hurt? Hurt was akin to taking that pounding heart in the small of your hand, and slowly squashing, squeezing, crushing it and jabbing it with long pointed fingernails. The little heart bled spots in your hand, but not enough to make it stop beating. The little heart wanted to call out meekly to stop hurting, but really, how could you listen to it when it couldn’t even summon enough energy to utter a word?

Disappointment tire me out – more so because I had felt like such a failure. I had walked around with the word failure plastered on my forehead, in big capital letters – a nagging thought that wouldn’t leave me. I saw myself in the mirror, almost like seeing a ghost of myself – weary with stripped off confidence. I had felt the feelings that I hated the most – feeling weak and vulnerable, with every fat drop of my tears held my regrets. Admittedly, the person that I was disappointed in the most was myself.

For the past few months, it felt like I had been sitting on a pedestal. The problem with sitting on a pedestal was that, it was so easy to shift and getting off-balanced. Recurrent thoughts and questions kept me awake at night – those were the moments that I had allowed myself to be weak and cried. It seems so silly now in retrospect, because failing and success is just a part of growing up and learning. However, I couldn’t deny to myself or anyone, that these setbacks hadn’t had me prepared and it did take me a long time to finally get on my feet.

I had failed my finals osces – the last of my string of failures that I went through last year. There. I. said. It. It seems like a small matter now… but I remembered one quiet night in november in my flat at brockworth place, I had whispered softly ‘m tired syu.. m exhausted’ as I rested my head on my flatmate’s shoulder, uncaring that I had reduced myself from a self-sufficient someone to someone who had just admitted defeat. Really, that was how I felt like back then. Defeated. My emotions had run on rollercoaster bumpy rides too often, too many times over the year that in the end fatigued me out. I had a rough year – I had exchanged one too many snideful remarks with a good friend that I had known for years and nearly lost, I had my trust misplaced and had believed in countless empty promises which in the end only led me to more heartaches and disappointment and a failed relationship, I had struggled in the field that I thought I would have no problems in, childrens’ health, I had failed in my big exam that I had prepared more than half a year for in advance and I had done countless mishaps that had me seriously questioning whether this was what I had set myself to do.

It seems silly now – but back then, I had to grovel and search for my self-esteem. I feared meeting close friends – because I didn’t want anyone to look into my eyes and knew. I didn’t want anyone to recognize my fake laughter and smile when really all I wanted to do was to be by myself. I didn’t want to tell or anyone else to know even though friends whom I left back in Christchurch somehow knew or figured it out anyway. I had wanted to be a hermit and pretended that I was strong enough to be alone.



M writing this as a closure – to put the year behind me. I have survived and am now a wiser person (or I shall hope so anyway hehe). All in all, I know I am still lucky and I really should learn to count these little blessings. I have walked away, but instead of getting all broken hearted, this time around I am somewhat relieved. Plus, my resit results just came through saying that I’ve passed. Alhamdulillah. In a few weeks time, I will probably write my life as a trainie intern, smack in the hustle bustle of hospital wards and clinics and surgeries. But right now, I am enjoying my hard-earned holidays. ^.^