Letters to no one (part 2)

It’s my first time managing people with my new role at work. There’s a lot to learn and grow from it, and hopefully with as little office politics as possible. I’m already seeing quite a lot. There was already a heated conversation between INTP colleague and ESFJ secretary/consultant that I was caught in the middle of, with both sides sending me screenshots of the conversation and griping to me. I think I handled the situation pretty well; I composed a well thought-out message to said INTP that was on par with dealing with a fellow NT, and sent a screenshot of my message to the ESFJ to show how I’d dealt with it, to which she responded with a slew of 😍🥰😘 heart emojis. But time will tell and I’ll see how this situation unfolds. They could have just blatantly given me Fe responses for all I know. And granted, all this occurred over text, where I could process it slowly, on my own, and in my own time and space.

Along with my new role, I’ve been given access to view the feedback from students (collated from surveys) and — oh my gosh — it’s so validating and motivating reading what my students have said about me for over the past year or more. Many described me as “friendly” and “patient”, which I find surprising. ESTP and ISTP boss duo don’t quite understand the gravity of relaying these feedback to us teachers, of how uplifting it can be.

I recently went out to dinner with an ESTP student (who was intrigued by my knowledge of the MBTI). We’re about the same age and she keeps telling me that I’m really smart and unique, that I have all this knowledge trapped inside of me. At one point, she asked if I’m the sort to evaluate people’s level of intelligence, to which I smirked and gave a nod, and she gasped and burst out laughing, saying that she’s afraid to ask then (about what I thought of her). I gave her the diplomatic response, that there are so many types of intelligences and that different people value different ones. She also brought up the topic of love languages and said that hers was, first and foremost, physical touch, and I shared that mine was purely just (and pretty much only) quality time. Towards the end when we were saying our goodbyes, she opened her arms for a hug and I squirmed and shook my head. She said, “I know,” and we both burst out laughing.

I introduced you to my Beginners class recently. I’m not sure why I decided to do that as a lead-in to an activity. It’s a way to feel as though I still have you with me, I suppose. I’m still reading our conversations, riding the highs and lows, and am nearing the end of it. I’ll probably reread it again after I’m done, just perhaps not immediately. I’ll search for parts of you in games and such first, before coming back to our conversations. I still think about you every day, and I hope things are going well for you, because you deserve it.

How??

I got promoted to Asst. HOD. It’s been good so far, but it’s still in the very early days. I’m not sure if they (ESTP-ISTP husband-wife boss duo) know that I didn’t finish my degree. They had a background check done on me recently, and I don’t know if they’re just being nice (Fe) by not bringing it up. When ESTP boss had me sign the contract, he asked for my other cert but made no mention of my degree.

At the dentist’s, the dentist said to me, “I can see that you’ve been brushing and flossing very well.” What a joke.

I’m not sure how I’m able to get away with so much sometimes.

One of my students texted me saying that he has feelings for me. (??!!??) He’s an ISFP and a few years younger than I am. I think we connected over our interest in gaming. He got intrigued when he found out that I play PC games too. He’s a big fan of The Sims as well, and the latest game we talked about was Cyberpunk 2077. In true INTJ fashion, I did not know how to respond appropriately and engaged the help of my ISTP boss and an INFJ to craft sample responses for me. We’ve reassigned him to someone else, but it’s still going to be so awkward if we happen to see each other in passing again.

Insights

These comments on the subtle signs people notice in others who have had rough childhoods: Ok… I relate to a lot of that… so what now? It makes me anxious that people might read this about me. I just feel too transparent and vulnerable, like as though they know that I’m not normal, that I’m not right in the head.

One of my students who’s a Type 3 and a few years older than me recently purchased a property, and so I was talking to her about interior designing (she did it all on her own) and she showed me photos of her place excitedly too. I told her that I’d have to engage an interior designer because although I can appreciate well-designed homes, I cannot do it on my own at all and I really do not know what matches what, even for colours. She immediately commented, “But you dress well,” which is high praise, coming from a Type 3. I replied saying, “But it’s all black, and I’m always wearing the same outfits.”

Almost 2 years ago (just a few months shy), I started playing my first RPG — Divinity: Original Sin II. And 360 hours later, I’ve finally completed my journey! It’s the best game I’ve come across so far, and the most amount of time I’ve invested in a game (besides The Sims, which is an endless game). This is now my absolute favourite. It’s amusing as well how trying out D&D in person with a group of strangers hadn’t worked out for me, and it led me to stumble across this game where I could experience and play D&D on my own from the safety of my room and without any pressure or social anxiety. It’s a great trade-off, I find.

Demisexuality: I’ve looked it up a little more, and it has really clicked. At first I thought it was just another new, random micro-label fad floating about, but it all makes so much sense now. And it probably took my recent experience to finally get it; I don’t think I would have otherwise. Some of the struggles that others have gone through, like questioning whether one was asexual but not really identifying with it, I relate to a lot. One person joked that, since he was both a pansexual and a demisexual, it made him a pandemic, which I thought was funny. So, after all these years, at my age right now, I can finally claim a label that I identify with and that describes my sexuality, which is strange because I wasn’t actively searching for it and I’d already come to accept in my teenage years that none of the labels fit me and that it’s fine not having a label.

The Absence of Love

I chanced upon a cheesy compilation video, and now I can’t stop watching all these cheesy compilation videos. I realise that I’ve never felt loved all my life. I’m aware that I’ve never been close to anyone, but I’ve never quite thought of it this way before. And maybe that’s why I’ve always questioned what love is. Platonic, familial, romantic, whatever the case may be. Maybe it’s obvious, but it’s only just occurred to me.

I experience it vicariously. It always seemed like distant, far-fetched, and overly romanticised ideas in movies and books. But what I’m seeing in these videos are real people, with real reactions and responses, in their normal everyday lives. And I see glimpses of what love is, of how love can be. It’s really touching, and I keep smiling and laughing and getting teary-eyed and choked up. There isn’t any envy; I just feel their genuine happiness and their love and care and concern for each other.

It dawned on me a few years ago that I’ve been lonely all my life, and that I’ll remain lonely for the rest of my life. But I now realise that it isn’t just the loneliness, it’s the unlove — the absence of love — on top of that. Experiencing these things vicariously is how my life will always be. I’ll never allow myself to be close to anyone, no matter how much I want to. The ones whom I got closer to, who made a deep impact and impression on me, I still think about them most every day.

I’ll always be this distant person, longing to bridge the gap, but knowing that the bridge will fall.

No one would love me, for I am unlovable.

Letters to no one

The more I hear or learn about it, the more I realise that I’m really not made for this world.  I don’t even like saying the word.  The way I react to it is as though I’m a traumatised rape victim.  I’m not made for this world at all.  

And so, I escape, as much as I can. 

I’ve been daydreaming about and looking up interior designs for 1-bedroom apartments.  I seem to go for the contemporary style, and I dislike anything wooden.  There are so many great ideas out there and I’ve been taking notes.  I came across one whereby they’d turned the living room into a workspace, and I’m so going to do that too, because I don’t need a living room or a TV — haven’t watched TV in years.  I’m not sure how much an interior designer would cost.  Maybe another $20k?  And I’m not sure if the furniture and renovation are included in that fee, because if not, it might be an additional $20k + $30k?  Which adds up to an extra $70k needed for interior designing. 

I’ve grown accustomed to wearing a mask.  It was difficult to breathe at first but I like how I can hide behind a mask.  It’s also been nice not having to put makeup on.  I’ve only been putting on mascara and that’s it.  I thought this mask-wearing phase was going to last much longer, but it doesn’t seem likely anymore.  I’m not sure if I recall all my makeup steps or even how to put it on. 

INTP colleague sent me a text message out of the blue recently, asking if we were still friends or if I was going to stay distant.  Why do I always go through this same loop with the INTPs?  We’re both pretty quiet and reserved introverts at first, but then when something sparks or when we happen to find some common ground, we start talking and sharing about ourselves.  But then silence proceeds, and both sides start thinking that the other has lost interest, and we fade away. 

There was an emergency at work recently.  We had to call the ambulance for a student of mine.  I cancelled my entire day’s work and went with her to the hospital in the ambulance.  She’s fine and we’ve been continuing our lessons, and we’ve even dined out together after class a couple of times so far.  She just might be an ENFP.  The whole ambulance ordeal made me think of you.  It was cool getting to sit in the front of the ambulance.  I only saw the back of it the last time when I got taken to the psych ward. 

I had a dream a couple of days ago where I felt truly happy and comfortable and normal with a new boyfriend of mine (a person my dreaming brain conjured and whom I’ve never seen in real life before).  I was washing my hands in the kitchen and he was right beside me helping to angle the nozzle.  I then got curious about some of the stuff in the sink and just went ahead to touch it without even thinking, so I had to wash my hands again and we both laughed.  I had a bit of whipped cream on the side of my lips so I kissed him playfully to get the whipped cream on him too, which caught him by surprise.  (What is this?  Why did I dream of such a cliché thing?  It’s embarrassing.)  After a moment of surprise, he kissed me back in a playful manner and I felt so loved.  But then I got teary-eyed, worried that I was going to lose him, that he wouldn’t like me the more he found out about me, that I’d mess things up, that I was messing things up right there and then by getting teary-eyed.  So I tried to will myself to stop and chastised myself in my mind for being like that.  He grew concerned and asked what was wrong.  I used all of my willpower to prevent myself from bursting into tears and hugged him so I could hide my face from him, and I knew this was just the beginning; the beginning of the end.

I really miss you and I’m sorry for everything, for being me.  You’re better off without me and I’ll always be cheering for you from the sidelines.  You’ll always be in my thoughts. 

Money Talk

I’m almost at the age where I’d be eligible to buy a small 1-bedroom apartment.  It’d cost about $100k, I think.  If I save $1k a month, it’ll take me a couple of years over the eligible age to reach that benchmark.  

If I have the money and won’t require a loan, I’m hoping that I would be able to purchase a property even though I’ve never paid income tax.  I don’t know how the whole process goes anyway.  

My biggest worry about living on my own is that I have a phobia of insects.  I wouldn’t be able to enter the room if there’s a bug. What would I do then in a 1-bedroom apartment?

When I get my own place (if I’m ever able to), I think I’d just up and leave without saying a word and without telling anyone my new address.  I’d just be off on my own, away from everyone.  I’ll see if this becomes my reality. 

Another thing I’ve been thinking a lot about is theme parks, specifically The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in California.  I’ve always loved roller coasters and went on many rides as a kid with family members while on holiday.  

I think the last time I went on rides at an amusement park, though, was when I was 12, with a classmate who was also an avid lover of roller coasters.  I’ve never found anyone else keen to go with since then.  Everyone around me always seemed to either be afraid of roller coasters or just simply weren’t interested. 

If I ever manage to find someone keen to go to Universal Studios Hollywood with, I think I’d need to set aside $10k for the trip.  I really, really, do wish to go — as an escape, to immerse myself in the Wizarding World and to pretend that it’s all real, even just for a while. 

It’s unfortunate that I can’t go to theme parks alone.  I might just go there on my own if it were possible.  I’m comfortable with going to museums and theaters on my own, and it took such effort and such a long time for me to reach this point.  But I think this will always be a distant dream of mine.  I highly doubt I’d be able to find someone equally keen on Harry Potter and roller coasters, and willing to fork out $10k for this whimsical experience, and willing to go with me.  It’d be a huge commitment (for them) and a near impossible task (for me), especially when I’m not close to anyone and I don’t meet or talk to anyone outside of work. 

I lost them the moment I met them

A reminder to myself when I feel the hunger pangs:

What I’m craving for never really was, never will be, and was never meant to be. 

I’m missing what I never really had, mourning over what never really was.

Even though it makes me bawl my eyes out for hours each time, read past conversations to help curb the hunger pangs.  Or watch videos/movies, or read books, or play games, or write

Good-for-nothing, physically ugly, emotionally retarded, mentally stupid and slow, worthless and meaningless — that’s what I am.  They’re better off without me.  Remember that.  Stay away for their benefit.  Keep the hurt to myself.