The Truth Hurts A Lot Worse

****very, VERY loooooooong emo post. I'm really sorry, but its been weighing down on me for the past few days. Just skip ahead to the next post if you don't feel like it.****

I was digging up and looking back at old photos of me in secondary school. And that’s when I realized….

I have none.
.
.
.
.

Coupled with the fact that I’ve had the same distinct dream for 12 nights, today’s just one of those days when I’m just very emotional, and on the verge of silent tears. I’m sad because I didn’t have a primary and secondary school life I can be proud of, and I’m jealous towards all those who DID have a schooling life they can sorely miss, or gladly talk about.

I've battled with self-esteem issues and it was only until recently, I realized that I still am battling the losing war. The past still haunts me, and I am what I am now because of it. Notice I used what, not who.

Back then, I used to fit in the drastic nerdy stereotype in the movies. A nobody, whom nobody greeted. Not even a nod, or the twitch of a smile. Equipped with : Agumon Digimorphing to Greymon shirt. The elastic, ballooned cheeks. Pants worn at least 2 inches above my navel. Hair always either flattened into a coconut, or cut into a mushroom, only by cheap barbers. Buttons and necktie all the way up on a tucked in shirt.

Left in the corner of the classroom, I spent 11 long, tormenting years in my primary and secondary school life. As for conversations, I never could get myself involved with anyone. D&D back then used to be Dungeons and Dragons for me, instead of Dinner & Dance.

If anyone would come up to me now and say he remembers me in secondary school, I’d burn him, and the evidence along with has damned body. I was stuck in a case of denial.

This post signifies a gigantic outlet to me, through which I can siphon off a part of my long concealed history just waiting to burst out, and maybe you won't understand that.

After all, to you, so what? Big deal, it's just pictures.

To me, however, it served as a painful reminder of that shy nerdy kid I used to be, who was pushed around and taken for granted, who was made fun of, and who never thought I was cool enough to fit in.

Before I carry on, I just wanna clarify that I’m not saying I’m perfect. It’s just that there is now a vast rift in between.

In my own eyes, I was never good enough for anyone.

The only friends I had were stuffed toys – I’d talk to them, play with them, go places with them. They were the only ones who were nice to me, and didn’t have a problem with the way I behaved or looked. At least with them, I felt safe, and I didn’t feel as though I was several leagues lower than them. Unlike them, real people were never like them.

The feeling of being tied to a flag pole to the next morning, stripped to only your underwear. The feeling of being pinioned by guys several times larger than you while you were kicked around, forced to watch your calculator being stepped on or your Physics book torn into halves.

No one should have to live through that, not even the lowest life form. But then again, who am I kidding? I was lower than the lowest life form.

I had no friends.
I never went shopping.
I never had good clothes – they were either too baggy, or too faded.
I had no life.
And until now, I’ve never had a blast birthday celebration in my life. It used to be worse – no sms-es, no calls, no presents, no Facebook messages, and no birthday wishes.

The only thing I had going for me at that time was my studies. I aced every paper and that was enough to keep me happy and that was what my world revolved around then.

There is an underlying reason as to why I dislike two types of people.

Jocks that give off an arrogant vibe - they used to be the meanest and I can't/couldn't forget that.

Nerds, dorks, and geeks – Because they don’t have the guts or the willpower to make a change.


The tears I spilled during the dark ages of my life. Tears of pain, anguish, and sorrow. Why could I not bring myself to fit in? Why did everyone hate me so much?

And so finally, after SPM, I rushed home and took a long, cold look at myself in the mirror. Instantly, a voice told me that I HAD to change.

A year later, after going for youth leadership camps and conferences, I was slowly coming out of my shell. I gained more friends and confidence and I was mixing in all the right circles.

My ego inevitably ballooned and this time, I had the twisted perception that I was the one who was too cool/popular to talk to anyone else. How things changed over a short span of time. I slowly forgot about the boy that I once was.

Sometimes, I would think that I had a lot of things going for me. Girlfriends, above avergae looks, and studies. That was until my world came crashing down, until the harsh truth would poke through occasionally.

"Hey Mervin. that girl you said is cute thinks you are very yong sui."

Those words stabbed me and till this day, I can't forget the impact or the pain. It was so frank, so straightforward and the truth rang loudly in my ears. I would hear about how ugly someone found me and my confidence would just instantly wash away while my self-esteem simultaneously plunged. It seemed like I was back at square one, back to the times before. This is one of the reasons why I get so affected by what people say; maybe the truth is, I just can't bury my past completely.

As much as you would like to deny it, first impressions do count. I'm sure many have been through this transition before. Sometimes, I do miss certain glimpses of the boy I once was. The one who didn't care about the difference between brands, the one who was happy with Pikachus and Power Rangers, and the one who just didn't bother about anything else.

Again, I am not saying that I went from being an ugly duckling to a swan, but there is a difference. In how I look, am perceived, in how I act, and in how people treat me. It does irk me at times as to how judging society can be (unfortunately, I am guilty to this too), as well as the pressure being exerted to fit in.I was once that boy and I know and still remember how it feels like.

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words hurt just as much too.

Yours truly,
Mervin, no one has known me.

*****End very, VERY emo post.

P.S. I’ve never revealed so much before. I humbly beg of you not to be too judgmental.

P.P.S. A couple more emo posts to be up. Now that I’ve got an outlet, I gotta take full advantage over it. Won’t be too much, I promise.