oneirism

coincidentally pt2

Clinical anxiety they called it. My illness. Not many people believed it was an illness or an issue. It's all in my head they said. Hah.. yes, yes it is.

I talk about it as if it's a joke but, standing in front of SNU, I feel more terrified than I had in the entire eighteen years of my life.

The week before was horrible. Settling into a new environment always was.

Mrs. Hwan, bless her old soul was very sweet and kind. She constantly brought me homemade snacks I deeply appreciated. It was one day, when I sat on my bed after having gone through my rations of snacks from home, I came to the realization. I had no food. Nor did I know where to get it.

Due to the hunger gnawing at my poor empty stomach, I threw away my tattered pride and timidly went to Mrs. Hwan's apartment to ask if she could lend me some eggs. Several minutes of miscommunication and hand gestures later, I was sitting at her table in her cozy little kitchen having biscuits and tea with her. She seemed to have realized how incompetent I was in taking care of myself, berating me in rapid fire Korean that I tried my best to keep up with.

That day onwards she made it her sole duty to make sure I've been fed daily and to make sure I wasn't ill or tired after fixing up my apartment.

I suppose I was lucky that my parents didn't raise me with a silver spoon. Female or not I certainly didn't need anyone. I fixed the old furniture, rid everywhere of the mold, fixed the fan and electricity, fixed the bathroom issues, replaced the lumpy mattress and made that tiny place livable. By the time I had finished the weariness had forever set into my bones. But it was definitely worth it. Even Mrs. Hwan was impressed.

Finally it started to feel like I had made progress in my life.

That is, until I entered the college building.

There were so many people, so many students all who seemed much smarter and better than me.

My mother's mocking words returned to me. Everyone else was better smarter and deserved my place more than I did. They probably do.

There are too many people. My head was full of sirens and I needed to get away.

I hurried into a seemingly empty classroom and fell to the ground clutching my head. I sat on the ground trying to calm down, only to be met by stifled giggles.

I could feel the states piercing my being. All eyes were on me. Fingers were being pointed and I'd become the center of attention.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't see.

It's suddenly that I find myself trapped in this darkness. My lungs feel as though they are filled with water, filled with my tears. I'm drowning right then and there. I can feel the eyes on me, yet I can't see them. There's a blindfold on my eyes that I can't remove. I think I'm crying? Am I? So humiliating, so frustrating... Why can't I stop? Please let me escape. Stop stop stop... I can't breathe... Let me free.

I ran. I ran out of there as fast as I can. I ran and ran. All the way back.

I hadn't realized I was back at the apartment until I felt Mrs. Hwan's soft hand on my back, most likely worried at my sudden appearance. After all I wasn't supposed to be back for another hour.

I must've fallen asleep like that because when I woke up it was dark. Mrs. Hwan had gone back to her place. She's left food for me that I had no appetite for.

I sat on the bed, hands around my knees. I felt disgusted in myself. I just ruined my image. The image of myself that I've been working so hard to maintain.

I was back to square one wasn't I? I had made so much progress with Mrs. Hwan. I was so sure I wouldn't have another breakdown. Especially one as bad as this.

I wasn't always like this.

I remember being a child that loved being around people. I remember being open and friendly. Being able to talk to people. I remember the times when I didn't get panic attacks by simply smiling at a person.

The sad thing is I don't remember when exactly I had started deteriorating and become such a mess. I don't remember that one moment in my life that could have been the start of it all. I don't remember the cause. Was it that awful that I would rather never remember it?

I spent the next week trying to pull myself together to get ready for classes. Thank god that it was only the orientation I'd run out of. Classes weren't for another week so I could take my relaxing.

I could tell Mrs. Hwan was worried about me. I tried to reassure her that it was nothing bad. She definitely didn't believe me. She was constantly checking up on me and brought in two times more food than usual. I felt a little guilty that I couldn't bring myself to tell her what my problems were. If only I had the courage to open up.

There were times when I would overthink and work myself into panic. It's at times like these I resort to my guilty pleasure.

Listening to stray kids.

I had become a stay under the weirdest circumstances. Not that I hadn't listened to kpop before. It slowly became a therapy for me. As a child I had been a shawol, later I had become an army. But nothing affected me as my as they had. They changed me for the better. I had found love and happiness in them. Listening to their lyrics. Their messages. It was my haven.

And it was how I fell in love with him.

...

Another late night. I couldn't sleep. At least the room was comfortable.

My insomniac tendencies shows up at the worst possible times, namely, the day after tomorrow was my first day of classes.

I sighed deeply putting in my headphones trying to pull myself to sleep to Bangchan's soft voice. Even that had no effect to the evil insomnia. How wonderful.

I suppose though one advantage could be that Chan and I had something in common. Hello brother from another mother.

I giggled to myself at the thought. It was a running joke among my friends. I missed them.

My mind drifted to another inside joke we had. One that was made to simply to get on my nerves. It was that I had only come to Korea to seduce the handsome devil by the name of Han Jisung. Or as I like to call him, Han Jisolo. Sorry dearest stays, I am a star wars fan.

What a day it would be, if I can I truly meet him. Some miracle that would be.

I lay on my bed staring at the endless amount of pictures that I had of him. Yeah, what a miracle that would be.

But of course, it is simply a dream. There's no way someone like me could ever be with him. Let alone meet him.

Even thinking about going to a fan meet or a concert scares me. The amount of people. I shuddered.

Nope. That is not for me. Just dreaming about what could be.

Just dreaming about Jisolo.