Helping People

I had such a night on my long day that the words of one of the gastroenterologist consultants I had met in Melbourne echoed loudly in my ears

“I’m done helping people. You try to help people, and they just screw with you.”

Because more people will blame you for things you didn’t do wrong, rather than what you did do. 



I’ve written posts on here when I’ve been happy or sad or even frustrated. Right now I’m just angry. And I need to vent.

I’m angry at everything. The world, my life, and myself. 

I just feel so stuck. I hate the feeling of being stuck. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be stuck. 

Sometimes I wish I weren’t the way I am. I wish I could be like others who have plans and goals and who think about things months in advance. I’m nothing like that. All I have are ideas of what I would like my life to be without any clear plans. I used to have plans. But so many times they’ve been ruined that I no longer have the confidence to make them or say them out loud. 

These days I make decisions that are short range. As opportunities come by. But I feel like I’ve missed a lot of opportunities and I’m just not as motivated as others are. I feel like everyone else is busy doing their life the right way, and I’m just not. 

I get angry because I don’t like this thought process. It isn’t about others. It’s about me. But when someone close to you hurts you or breaks you down, that stuff plays on your mind a lot. 

How rude is that. You spend ages building up your self esteem or get to a point where you think you like your view of yourself, and people can just smash it. Like it meant nothing.

I suppose the counter argument to that is that if it was a strong enough self esteem level, it shouldn’t be broken that easily. 

Which is why I get more angry at myself. 

I don’t know what to do about it. 

I could sit around all day and think about this. But no. There are always people around me expecting me to do something. 

Sometimes I think I’m way too selfish and cynical. There’s nothing actually wrong with my life. Why can’t I just be happy with what I have and get over myself? Nobody ever really tells me if that’s what I should do or if I am allowed to feel this way. 

Oh God I’m actually thinking I need permission to feel a certain way. 


I think a lot about karma. I wonder if I’m in a karmic slump right now. And all this stuff and these feelings are because I’ve got some karmic debt I need to repay. I don’t even know anymore. 

I keep thinking I need to be alone. I need to actually be alone somewhere for a while. Where nobody expects anything of me and I don’t have to talk to anyone. 

Nobody and nothing makes me happy at the moment. And that’s terrible. 

But it’s not anybody else’s fault I don’t think. The solution has to come from me. But I just don’t know what that solution is.

My life seems to be a big question mark at the moment.

I wish I could just drive off somewhere and disappear. 

Fakebook “Friends”

They’ll like every one of your photos. Even the one with too much exposure or the one of the small rocks that don’t really mean anything to anyone. 

They’ll comment on your selfies “looking good!! ;)” “damn where you been? :-* ”

They’ll post on your wall “happy birthday!!!” Because the website reminded them.

But when they see you in person, you don’t exist.

You exist in a parallel universe under a big blue banner only.

If they see you somewhere, they won’t be asking you how your birthday was. Or how your holiday was. They won’t be telling you you look great in person. 

No you’re just a clever simulation in real life.

They’ll talk to their other “friends” about you off the record. 

They’ll tag their other “friends” in memes saying “we know someone like this ;)”

They’ll use that website as an advantage. They’ll watch you. Waiting for you to do something. 

They’ll use it to assert dominance. At a click of a button, you disappear. 

They’re not “friends”.

I would literally rather be anything else other than your Facebook friend. I choose reality. I’m glad about that.

How Old Are You

Well. It looks like the Earth has nearly made another rotation around the sun 23 years since I was born.

People keep asking me how old I’m turning this year. Which is fine except it always takes me a few seconds to answer them. I just don’t keep track.

Or maybe because I don’t feel like I’m 23. Obviously because Taylor Swift doesn’t have a song for 23 and so I’d much rather be 22.

Nah. It’s just. Same thing as last year I suppose. The pressure is on to have achieved a lot by this point in life. I’m still in Med school. Woop. People in my class are getting married, having kids, owning houses even.

I say Blech to all of that.

I can barely own my emotions. I can’t stand the company of people for more than a few of hours, and kids frighten me.

I just don’t think I’m mature.

Although now I think I’m not really expected to be. I kind of have one of those “plan” things for the next 2 years in terms of where I should work, etc. That, to me is a BIG achievement. But I am aware every plan is subject to change. I mean, I’m not so naïve as to think everything will work out how I want it to.

Ah. How mature of me.

I’m just a bit tired of life to be honest. I mentioned that it’s really hard to be in your 20s. I’m feeling it a lot these days. How I wish I could quit life and go live on Mars or something. I just cannot be bothered facing the day every day, waiting for something to happen, but it doesn’t. Watching friends move on to bigger and better things and accepting that I’ll see less and less of them soon, dealing with people who are these so called “colleagues” who have a whole different set of rules as to how to deal with them. Like no they’re not your friends. No, they don’t care about how your day is going. They just want you to do whatever it is they need, and they’ll say everything you want to hear to make that happen because they’re sizing you up too.


I’m just not cut out for the fakeness the workforce demands. That’s another big reason I don’t feel old enough to be a 23 year old.

I gotta have thick skin right? Gotta be used to how the world works and not let it affect me. But I just don’t think I can.

Anger is a big poison for me. I get angry at people quite easily. Angry at how they talk to each other and treat each other. Angry when they care so little about things like doing their job right. Angry when they’re so obviously fake.

And the worst part is, I see those opportunists around me who are all those things I mentioned above, but they know how to play the game and they put themselves ahead. Meanwhile, I get angry and probably get left behind. You gotta be that kind of person to get ahead apparently.

Err. This is probably something I’ll get over when I’m 30 right? 40? 65?

Oh God I do not want to have to deal with people for that long.

I bet I sound like a cynical 50 year old right now. Saying I hate people and wanting to live somewhere on my own. But it’s not all bad. Truly there are some awesome people in the world and life has some great aspects.

I’m just in a not so great stage of it I think.

As Ed Sheeran says: I’m well aware of certain things that will destroy a man like me. But with that said, give me one more.

Really liking that song.

Oh birthday plans! Didn’t talk about those! Probably because I don’t have any. I’m in another continent from the people I usually hang out with for my birthday. This year I’ll be at the rural hospital on my birthday, seeing patients. And then maybe I’ll get some cake or something. Or I’ll reward myself with a lot of sleep.

Living the wild life, Abracadabra


The Poison 

Do you know what the funny thing about anger is? It’s the most aggressive slow-killing poison in the world. 

Anger at someone else, grudges, revenge, negative thoughts, etc etc. Are all ingredients for the perfect poison. 

But the real funny part.. is that you can only use this poison to kill yourself. 

Someone upset you. Someone annoyed you. They hurt you, offended you and so on. You get angry. Your muscles all start contracting, your heart starts pumping like crazy, the adrenaline seeps through your body and brain causing every nerve to tense up in response and puts strain on your body and your mind. The Poison has entered. 

It leaves behind a trail. The memory you have of this incident. Every time you remember, it all starts again. You see someone or something and it just literally burns you up from the inside out. 

Meanwhile, the other person walks away. Completely healthy. Completely unaffected by all the detrimental effects going on in your body. Endorphins flowing freely through their system no problem. 

Isn’t that funny?

When someone makes you angry, don’t you want to hurt them in some way? Sure. But what do you end up doing? Just taking more of your slow poison. Again and again and again. 

You getting angry isn’t going to change them. It isn’t going to change what happened. It’s just going to stress you and your body out every time. 

Especially if you hold onto a trace of the poison somewhere in your memory. It’s pretty much an unlimited supply. 

It’s a slow and painful suicide. 

Yes I can appreciate it’s not exactly something you can control. But you can atleast try to stop taking the poison multiple times. It’s just not affecting anyone except you. And not in a good way. 

I don’t wanna die that way. It’s just not worth it. 

Honest Opinion

What do I have to do to get an accurate and honest appraisal of me as a person?

This follows this whole ‘people saying stuff in anger’ thing. 

I get called all sorts of things when someone is angry. Useless, selfish, uncaring, stupid, etc etc etc. I get called out on my biggest flaws and things I didn’t really even know were wrong with me.

Here’s the thing though. After the whole anger thing passes, I’m told none of that was true. Or only true to a point, but not really. 

Sigh. I tend to take these things personally. But only because it comes from important people to me. So what am I supposed to do here? 

I suppose not care. And have the insight to figure out what I do right or wrong, myself. 

That could be considered ignorant/arrogant though.

Oh God. It’s just so hard for me to fathom because I don’t just say things in anger for the heck of it. To call out people’s qualities or whatever without reason. 

Eugh what a mess.