(Italian) Un Funerale per tutta la Vergogna che Abbiamo mai provato English) Sign of the Times

(english) sign of the times

HEBE REN

CW: MENTAL HEALTH, RESTRICTED EATING

lived?’ ‘Can you picture it, the life we could have

Before I accepted my offer at ANU, I could have chosen an excellent college in Germany. I can’t remember why I gave up that offer , but here I am, stuck in this in-between moment. I see no way forward, yet I cannot possibly go back.

Despite being a brutal truth, most people are tired of constantly hearing how miserable an international students’ life is, and describing this misery itself is actually rather painful. I have mental meltdowns every time I have to tell people how I feel as a remote student on zoom. I know that there are countless adjectives: disconnected, isolated, unhappy, helpless, lonely, miserable. But now for the first time in my life, I have truly experienced those words in my reality.

However, I’ve decided to write about something different in this article.

I deferred last year, but throughout the whole of 2020, and among all those people alongside me last year, no one was as miserable as I was. Most people around me seem to be perfectly happy with this online situation. I was, and still am, constantly filled with bitterness and negativity. I have been trying to figure out why I feel this way and I have come up with three possible explanations for this misery of mine.

I was always a popular girl growing up, yet there are only five to six-people I can truly call my ‘friends’. I do know a lot of people, but I only think of them for specific needs, which should never be counted as friendship. People that I define as friends are those who I will think about at the most random of intervals.

I was talking to my mum the other day, saying how lonely I feel from time to time. I realised, almost inevitably, that I could never get to be as close as I used to be with all of my old friends at this point in time, as we move on and embrace new challenges as college students, as adults. Those five to six friends I have— none of them are around. They are living their new lives in New York, Hong Kong, Beijing,

Chicago and Sydney. We still talk to each other regularly online, and quite frankly those one to two hours each week are always my own way of temporarily escaping my reality. Talking to them is healing. Still, nothing fills the emptiness within me of not being able to see them personally, even just once a year. All I have now is one hour of piano-playing, two hours of exercising, countless hours of sleeping, and even writing this article right now — all of them are escapes. The truth is, however, I rely on these inconsistent sources of pleasure to sustain my presence and it almost feels like an addiction. Every time I am forced back into reality, it only hurts 100 times more. I can barely feel my existence, all I can think about is surviving.

My old friends are all busy with their new exciting campus lives, so I feel like it is time for me to get to know people at ANU and start making new friends. With my somewhat talent for friend-making, I am blessed to meet many amazing people throughout my first semester online. We had lots of fun on our phones. The problem is almost a cliché: all of this is online. At the end of day, when I shut down all of my electronic devices, it’s me, and only me, the whole time. I haven’t met anyone new in real life since 2019.

I fall for people, even though I have never met them in real life. How absurd is that?

What’s even more ridiculous is that I am almost obsessed with my online relationships. This Internet veil somehow works for me, I cannot help sharing my life with complete strangers and get upset because they obviously are unable to do the same thing. They have an actual life going on!

All the connections I’ve made, all the people I’ve met, and all those plans we’ve made are perhaps the core reason for my suffering. I cannot help thinking about the future whereas I seem to be forever stuck in the present. I want to see the boy I like in real-life, I want to meet all of my internet friends, I truly want to live the life I deserve.

I have put my best efforts into schoolwork this semester. I have joined two societies as representatives, and I am also working with the school focusing on designing events here in China. I’ve tried my best to prove my existence. However, as time goes by, after missing out on all these amazing opportunities that could impact my future career, and seeing all these exciting campus lives, I still struggle to balance my headspace.

The more engaged I am, the more connected I am with ANU, the more miserable I tend to be. I am not settled within this virtual presence; I want to be on campus. I would fit in so well, if only I were actually on campus.

People like me, we are outsiders of the society here. We never belonged here. Our values, morals and everything we believe in, are never accepted in this society. We struggle to identify ourselves. We know, we clearly know, that our future is never here. I never see my future here in China. And quite honestly, I don’t know where my heart belongs. I struggle deeply with my identity. I always believe the priority of my twenties is to figure out where I am destined to be.

When we finally have the chance to escape and explore where our heart truly is, people like me will get out almost without any hesitation. That explains why my friends went abroad despite severe COVID circumstances, whilst the majority of my acquaintances stayed in China and continue living their luxurious life. After all, we just want different things. I feel the urge to escape on an almost daily basis. I feel like everything here in China is almost repulsive. Yet I can’t, so I feel deeply depressed.

Surprisingly, I am living in the most open family I’ve ever known here in China. My mum is an English professor and without any doubt, is the coolest parent I’ve ever met. My dad had loads of international experiences when he was in his twenties. They raised me in a ‘world citizen’ way. They never interfered with any of my important life decisions, and they gave me complete freedom. I remember they used to send me to different countries alone when I was young. I am forever thankful to them for this, as these trips allowed me to see different parts of the world, experience different cultures and learn from them. I would never be who I am if I wasn’t provided these international exposures. However, when I finally grew up into that westernised, well-cultured, independent world citizen they expected me to be, I found out that they had changed. They no longer want me to be like that anymore. They live in regret. They are becoming increasingly conservative as they grow older, and now they have decided they want me to be that kind of typical Chinese girl who finds a decent guy to marry, has kids, and lives that decent life forevermore. They’ve started intervening in my life, taking away my freedoms, and trying to control me.

Sadly, like any other typical Asian parents, they refuse to talk about feelings. They see my expressions of how I truly feel as a challenge to their authority. I cannot breathe at home. I cannot eat as much as I want because they will go non-stop about becoming ‘fat’. I cannot wear the clothes I want because if I do, they will keep nagging about how imperfect my butt or back is and I should always cover them. I have to escape to different relatives’ houses throughout the semester. I find it suffocating here.

The only thing I know is, I would fit in so well in Australia and I could shine freely there.

What’s the purpose of life if the most free three to four years are going to be this in-between moment? I can’t be with people I like, I can’t explore my possibilities, and most importantly, I don’t feel any sense of belonging here.

I was 17 and now I’m 19, I may still be here when I’m 20.

Everyone’s life is moving forwards, no one here understands why I am so miserable. Everyone keeps telling me that I should think about the bigger picture. ‘You are going to be there eventually!’ they say. I’ve waited long enough. What terrifies me the most is that I cannot see what is ahead. I don’t know how long I still have to wait. I am losing hope day by day.

Two years, three years is too much for a young person like me. When you’re in your thirties or forties, your life is likely going to be in a static mode. Nothing changes much for these two years three years, you can hardly feel them. But for young people like me, whose lives are changing so fast and full of unknowns, even two or three months can be life changing. I want to celebrate youth, I want to love, I want to enjoy life.

I knew very clearly, almost at the beginning of this chaos, that I am going to be stuck here for a while. That is my destiny, my unchangeable destiny in a time like this. However, I’ve tried everything I can possibly think about during the past year to fight against it. Then I realised, there’s nothing I can do about it. For the first time in my life, my own fate is in the hands of several individuals, who clearly will never care about someone as ordinary as I am.

I am a nobody. There’s nothing I can do to get me into Australia. I have big dreams. But now I can’t even make plans. I have known that clearly this whole time, yet even today I refuse to surrender to this brutal truth.

I think I never will.

I know I am just one of those people whose life will be cruelly affected by this time of ours.

I will fight it till the end.

I will be hurt, heart-broken and be full of bruises, but I couldn’t care less.

I will fight it till the end.

“Just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. Just stop your crying, it will be alright. They told me that the end is near. We gotta get away from here. We gotta get away from here. We gotta get away from here.”