#600

I wanted this to be a happy post - a benchmark of sorts, but you know how things go.

I didn't think Viv would ever let Nick draft with her, but she did, and I was surprised.
At first, I thought that it was a good idea to let him taste the pro-ness of tournament players, but this feeling later turned into a sense of foreboding.

The match damn near did, if not completely, destroyed his morale.

._.

I have never, ever, seen him direct his anger towards me.
Even if he did express anger to me, I was never the cause.

I'm not exactly hurt by his sudden flare of anger, nor am I surprised. I just wanted to make a note that everyone has their bad times where they can feel hopeless and lost.

If I'm not mistaken, the match ended with his Lich's score at 2 kills and 12 deaths.

Well.
This, I was a little surprised at; the first (and last) time I drafted with Viv, my Lina ended with a score of 8-8.
I was the ONLY one on the team dying so much, and I was a wee bit embarassed to display my noobness in the face of pros.

But you know...everyone starts out a noob.

Nick is stupid to take this fact so harshly.

Everytime that I remind him that there are many other players out there who much better than he and his clan are, he says 'yea, I know.'

I think that only today, the fact really hit home.

And I feel a little bit bad cause I can't really do anything to revive his crushed self-esteem.
It's up to him to take up the challenge and train to achieve his goal - to be a tournament player.

Maybe going pro is not what I've always aspired to do, so maybe losing constantly doesn't really pain me as it appears to hurt him. -_- I may curse a lot and flare up during games, but I never take the losses to heart.

Not anymore, anyway.

I really hope he realises that winning is not everything and that failure is how you improve yourself.

Some people have skill; some have talent.
If a person works hard enough for what he/she wants, the skilled can outshine the talented.

Does that make sense?

He appeared so excited and enthusiastic for the draft match. Viv awed him somewhat (she does that a lot) and he was determined to make a good impression - that he has potential to draft with pros.

Wen Jie and I were playing a seperate game.

After he started muttering something about feeding, I could sense that the rest of his game wasn't going too well.
While Jie and I were giggling/chuckling at out comparatively laidback and fun game, Nick was stressing and fretting and whining.

At one point I told him: "Shut up, you're playing with pros, what did you expect?"

But in a joking way.
Although the whinging WAS getting on my nerves.

And now I see that could have been a major blow to his ego.
Oh well, too late.

I could apologize, but I don't think a slight ribbing (from my point of view) would justify the need to apologize.

***

I've been such a bitch lately.
It's that feeling again. That sudden vacuum that appears in my heart and sucks all the pain in.

An aching sense of hollow loneliness and a general sense of uselessness and being unwanted.

I'm not sure how to explain it.

My brain tells me that these feelings are utterly ridiculous.
...Of course I'm not useless, I'm sure SOME people want me around - I can't be completely alone and isolated from the world, can I?

I end up crying myself to sleep anyway.

I just feel overwhelmed by a sense of despair that - from experience - will go away in time, but cannot be controlled as it happens.

I distinctly remember yelling SHUT UP BITCHES to several people on Skype and I'm extremely sorry about that. It's hard to speak nicely when what you really want to do is not burst into tears in front of your friends.

I ended up distracting myself and giggling (to myself) like a maniac; I'm sure some people thought I was mentally unstable at some point or other.

It's horrible waking up tasting salt on your lips and blinking away crusted tears from around your eyes. The pain is now dull and distant. I still feel gloomy but not in total despair as I was the night before.

Well, this isn't the first time I've felt that way and I'm fairly certain it won't be the last.
Ling said that maybe I'm bipolar like Britney Spears, but I doubt it.

I do NOT have manic episodes.
Unless you count spending more than an hour trying to learn how to bunnyhop in CS.
(I succeeded in making 3 consecutive hops. Yay for me.)
And is that even considered manic? Nah. Just a little obsessive.

I've always had weird ways of handling pain.

Sometimes I roll around in sheer agony; sometimes I laugh at myself for managing to hurt myself; sometimes I lock the pain in a box and let it out, little by little, in manageable amounts.

Realisation dawned upon me last night.
I can't be 100% sure - I never am with my own feelings - but I'm pretty sure that this has been happening because I still miss my daddy.

It's just such a shock to my senses as I allow the reality to sink in gradually. After more than 2 years, I think my mind is still in a state of denial.

Occasionally, just to comfort myself, I imagine my father walking across the dining hall to the kitchen; imagine him doing qi gong in the evening by the hall window; imagine him falling asleep on the couch in front of the TV.

Tiny moments of happiness as I remember his face, his voice, his smell, his hands, his crooked teeth when he smiles.

I imagine myself calling to him, and then I pause.

A blank horror stabs through me as I realise I can't remember what I used to call him.

Daddy?
Dad?
Pa?
Da?

I start to hyperventilate and my mind is racing, looking for the correct words that would roll off my tongue naturally.

As I feel sobs start to rack my body, I bring to mind the only thought that helps me manage my emotions.

Crying won't help; it never does.

With that firmly in mind, I control my breath, shut my eyes and let sleep take me into oblivion.

Save the pain for yet another day.