Pain

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Hi, yet another essay from ESL407. LOL. This one was my Division Classification Essay and I chose to write about Pain. Won't be posting the FULL essay here because some parts were really personal. 

Once again. . . I only got a B. Sobs. 

Cause that's all I'll ever be. . . a sub-standard writer. 

I kid. 

A B is actually already a Superior grade in my school but. . . I'd still really like to get an A. 


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Pain is inevitable, as with most emotions. Everybody undergoes experiences that cause them pain, whether it be physical or mental pain, and the severity differs for each individual. The President, your colleagues, your subordinates, your parents, even the person sitting next to you has felt it. It is part and parcel of life. I have experienced different instances in my life wherein I have felt pain and I feel that each experience has moulded and shaped me into the person that I am today.

The first time I really experienced pain, or rather an occasion that is clearly etched in my mind, was when I was around 5 years old. I was still learning how to ride a bicycle. My father was at work while my mother was preparing dinner. Most of my friends already knew how to ride bicycles so I decided to speed up my learning process and practice riding the bicycle on my own. At that time, my front car porch had an old bar counter; the antique kind made up of bamboo. We had that bar counter for over 20 years so by then, in some areas, there were sharp pieces of bamboo sticking out. I propped my 2-wheeler bicycle against the side of the bar counter, sat on my bicycle and tried ‘peddling’. Needless to say, that was not a very smart move on my part but then again, I was only five years old. Of course, the bicycle moved, slid sideways and resulted in me walking away with a long, nasty cut on the side of my forehead that bled profusely for quite awhile. What shocks me to this day is that I did not cry. I probably was more alarmed from the insane amount of blood coming out. I still have the scar to this very day.

Over the course of my primary school years, I have experienced similar kinds of physical pain here and there. I have gone home with torn pinafores and skinned knees after rough sessions of ‘Catching’ and ‘Octopus’. When I was 10 years old, a different kind of pain hit me. Growing up, the living situation of my maternal grandparents was extremely complicated but I shall not delve into that now. Basically, my grandparents would stay at my house for a weekend every fortnightly. I was quite close to my grandmother and it was from her that I first learned how to gamble. She was a petite but strong and feisty woman. But I guess even the strongest have to fall sometimes. Her first stroke left her relatively weak. The second stroke pretty much left her paralyzed. She relied on tubes to be able to breathe, eat, and be emptied of waste. After her first stroke, she had told her children that she would never want to be on life support; a vegetable. So as per her request, after her second stroke and when she was put on life support, we had a few days left with her before they finally offed the machine. It was hard for me to see her weak like that as I always saw her as a strong, independent woman. She never tolerated any nonsense from anybody, which is a trait I am still trying to master. This was the first time I experienced the lost of a loved one. I did not bawl my eyes out. I did not really know how to express my sadness. I shed a few tears at her deathbed and at the funeral. The feeling was not good at all; I never wanted to feel it ever again. But, according to the laws of nature, nobody lives forever.

Over the years, I have lost more loved ones to disease and old age. I lost my paternal grandmother 2 years after my maternal grandmother passed away, along with several other relatives. But strangely enough or maybe not really that strange, the death that really hit me hard was that of my dog, Angel. My parents had bought her for me when I was 5 years old and I had tried to convince them I would take full responsibility for her and they would not have to take care of her because I would do everything. Who was I trying to kid? But they got her for me anyway. I loved her so much and we did everything together. We went to the park everyday, explored the neighbourhood, and even caught lizards in the park. Of course the novelty of having a new dog died off after awhile, coupled with me being too busy and trying to have a social life so I started neglecting her and as a result, my parents were stuck taking care of her. When I reached 17, I suddenly realised how much Angel had aged. She was no longer that frisky, playful puppy I used to know. She was 12 years old by now with a slight cataract in her left eye and legs could barely support weight that she had difficulty walking sometimes. One day, she just collapsed and when she tried to stand up, she collapsed again. I had to hand-feed her and she just lay down in her faeces. My heart shattered right there and then. I always assumed she would be there forever. She had always been there for me, all through my childhood to adolescent age, seen me during my ups and downs, but I was barely there for her. My parents decided it was time to put her to sleep. As the veterinarian injected her with the lethal medicine, I held her and even though she was already gone, I still clutched her dead body and sobbed until my mother pried me away and told me it was time to go. I was extremely upset over the loss of my first best friend and cried every time I replayed the scene in my mind of her drifting into a deep slumber that she would never be able to wake up from.  However, all too soon, I somewhat got over my when I met him

[PERSONAL PART. LOL.]


Through all these experiences, even though I was hurt differently, I still learnt to pick myself up and move on with my life. I also feel that I have become a stronger person throughout all this and it has shaped me to become a better person. Without undergoing these events, I probably would not have become the person I am today. After all, feeling pain does not mean you are weak. Pain is merely a temporary feeling that goes away after awhile. What really defines us is what we do to overcome these obstacles and what kind of person we become when we walk away from these experiences. 


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(inserts totally unrelated, narcissistic selfies)

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