One year of my life.
Another overwritten Ugly memory.
On my way to the East gate I passed by the Main Library. It was late at night and no one was around, so I stopped there for a moment to take everything in; the democracy walls, the benches under the big tree, everything was so quiet… suddenly I thought of the last three years of my life, my choices. My official last day of school was last Friday, and after exams and presentations in May, I will be leaving HKU and I’m looking forward to that. It was funny actually, for almost my whole first year when people asked me where I go to school, I avoided giving an exact answer, throwing stuff like “just another local university; it’s all the same”.
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I remember my registration day and my forgetting to be happy. Things were great on paper; I got in to the one of the finest school in Hong Kong, people kept on promising me how great university life would be, and my friend I knew outside school was also admitted to the same programme. We were ushered around, getting our student id photos taken and people kept on handing flyers and random publications of the school. I couldn’t seem to join in everyone else’s enthusiasm. It was when I sat down, staring at this computer magazine and listening to the busy people chattering, that I had this feeling that I wasn’t going to like my time here.
I was working full time in my parents’ office since I finished my A-Levels. I remember that I wasn’t allowed to go to the orientation camp because “it was a waste of time and the office needs me” and me hating the fact that I couldn’t make these sorts of decisions myself. I was looking forward for school to start because I didn’t want to be under my father’s eye more than necessary. It came out as a shock when I was expected to continue working even after school starts. I tried going to the office early to finish most of the stuff before going to school, but my father said I must come back during office hours when there were people around. So between classes I kept on going back and forth from school to the office and spent an hour on communing. Most of the time I couldn’t finish my work within those few hours, so I skipped classes very often. The lectures I did attend I dozed off. Needless to say I couldn’t catch up with my school work and I was starting to fear that I couldn’t even graduate.
Everyone was used to me disappearing. My friend was getting tired of taking care of me because I couldn’t hand in my assignments and knew nothing about deadlines. After my first exam I was terrified that I was going to be kicked out of school. I remember it was around Christmas when I told my father that I couldn’t cope with both work and school. He told me no one goes to lectures, no one has such a hard time as I do, everyone has a job besides school, my work only takes up two hours, and I must be stupid if I have such difficulties. I ended up saying yes I am stupid, but the fact that I’m still flunking my exams doesn’t change so I still think I have to stop working, or at least just come during weekends.
Then again the rhetorical question “if I tell you if you don’t work in the office, the place will shut down, would you work?”. After such an “exchange” my brothers and I were supposed to go shopping with my mom. I couldn’t recall what was I thinking or how I felt back then, but I remember not being able to speak at all that day and I made my mom cry because she sees how unhappy I was. Later I came up with the conclusion that Vincent was going to graduate high school soon, and when I get to my second year, he can take over my work in the office and since he’s the brighter one, he should have less difficulties. It was told that my priority is the office not school, but the work I was doing there was nothing someone with a brain couldn’t do, so they can easily hire another person to take my place, since they do pay me salary.
During Christmas holiday my workload in the office increased. I was sleeping so hard in class, in the office… my limbs were somehow filled with fatigue for some unknown reason. I remember that particular moment when I was dragging myself on the streets, it came to me I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t feel physically or mentally exhausted. For a time I blamed it on my dance classes. I know I should stop going because I kept on saying that I have no time, but I couldn’t because the sad thing was, that’s the only place I could stop thinking what a mess I’m in. It was ironic; I felt most comfortable at a place where I didn’t like the people, and back then I still had this urge to prove to those instructors that I wasn’t talentless and therefore pressure. But still it was that one and a half hour, three times a week that kept me sane.
I felt like a failure in every way possible. Everyone in school was doing great. I was no one and nothing I did or thought was of importance. Give me a call and I have to fly back to the office ASAP, regardless of where I was or what I was doing. Everything was my fault because other people don’t make mistakes. I had to take everything in without a word. Even people outside the school or office were trying to prove that to me. Everyone around me keeps on talking to me, pouring into me, but they have no interest on what I have to say. I remember I got this call from a friend while I was in the office. She kept on talking and talking; I couldn’t tell her I wasn’t interested in her trivial details of her life, I stopped her abruptly by saying I have some work to do and I’ll call her later. Then I began to sob, feeling like I was going to burst. Then I met a new friend, she turned out to be the same and while she kept on talking, I wondered why I attract people like that. My father did his bit by reminding me daily how much we depend on the office to do well, and that we could be out of business any time, and many happy thoughts.
I remember feeling nauseous whenever I get a threat (when I made a mistake) that someone was going to get physical. I was told if I cannot finish my work in the office within two hours (which was unreasonable, how could you fit a full time job in two hours?), either I was plain retarded or it was nothing a good caning wouldn’t cure. I remember crying silently on the bus, when I was having lunch, for no reason. I remember having this idea, this image on my head, whenever I cross the road at night… I wondered if I swirling in the middle of the street instead of keep on walking, what would happen. In the end of the second semester I stopped going to school but one class, only because it was mandatory for me to show up. I even mixed up the dates and missed going to one of my exams…
Summer, I had to go to this workshop in school from 8 to 6 and I had a hard enough time to explain to my dad how it was impossible for me not to go to this workshop even though he could teach me everything because it was a compulsory course and they take attendance. He knew I couldn’t understand my computer courses just by reading the powerpoint notes so he has me to write programmes with a totally new (to me. He was still using ISPF for God’s sake.) language because ultimately the concepts are the same. Soon we learnt that my brother couldn’t get to university and he was going to leave HK for the US. I was beginning to lose my mind because I saw no end to my misery and I knew if I kept on with my state of hopelessness for another year, I’ll go literally insane. Again I told my father I couldn’t work anymore next year because I’m seriously going to be kicked out of school. So he told me to give him all the notes and books I have for my courses and he will teach me everything I have to learn. I was repulsed by the mere idea that me being university and I still needed my father to help me with my school work. What? Why? He told me I couldn’t handle computing because I have no background on it, unlike many of my classmates. I wanted to tell him, some of my classmates don’t have the background, but they get to stay in school and work out things together and ask people. They have connections and I don’t. They get old papers and assignments from seniors and I don’t know anyone…
I got him to promise that if I could finish the two A-Level textbooks on computing and answer one of his questions on these textbooks, I can do my studying on my own. I spent three days on it, and then told my dad I was ready. He asked me a question about networking, how e-mails were sent or something like that. I remember saying stuff like TCP/IP, packets… he asked me how were e-mails sent in the most literal sense. I didn’t know how the sockets work, or about sending signals and frames and everything… I couldn’t answer his question. I tried looking for an answer on the books but I couldn’t find it. I told him so and his answer was, I should have found out elsewhere if I don’t completely understand something. I just felt it was unfair. I didn’t have the time to completely understand everything, nor could I memorize everything…
I finally decided I can’t take it anymore and told my father that I don’t care about going to the office anymore. I’m going to do my own school work. He gave me an ultimatum. He must help me with my school work because I am his daughter, only if I’m not family will he give up on me. He had me inside his office alone, sat me down and explain to me how useless I am, how incapable I am of handling my school work, how if it weren’t for him, I’m nothing, and that I’m stubborn not to listen to him, how stubborn I was since the day I was born, the stupid stuff I did when I was young… all he wants is best for me. I cried… because he kept on feeding these ideas in my head and I believed him. I’ve been listening to him for 20 years. It was that constant ranting of how useless and what a failure I am that was breaking me, and unlike in the past, when I only had to face him a few hours at night, I face him the whole day for a year and he knows everything that I do and has total control. I honestly believed that I was going to end up picking cardboards, finding old newspapers from trash cans to earn a living, like those old women pushing a cart on the streets.
I couldn’t accept the fact that I was twenty and still in many sense controlled by my parents because I wasn’t financially independent. I probably would have long gone if I wasn’t worried about paying my own tuition. Another reason that has stopped me from doing something drastic was because my father was constantly sad, angry, lonely, and I didn’t want to make him feel like I’ve abandoned him. He loved me and my brothers all so much. But at that point I knew if I continue with this life, I don’t think I could survive… I chose to leave and as my mom later quotes my father’s words on how heartless I was because I didn’t even turn back.
It seems there are still so many things I left out… the craziness I felt. It all seemed so petty, even when I’m writing all this and it’s like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. I don’t want to come out as a person who complains a lot, ungrateful… but it was a hard time for me, most possibly my darkest year. Fortunately I turned to my aunt and she made my father to continue to pay my tuition. It was such a relief when I got this check for my last tuition bill. I’m going to get my bachelor degree. I’m looking forward to graduation not only because I don’t have to feel like I wasting my time on something I don’t care about, but also I can be truly independent and whatever I do, no one can control my life or my mind anymore.
So basically that’s why people who knew me from the past think I am so much different from the person they met; why am I happier, more relax than I used to be.
