ChiCuapCuap~

December felt strangely flat. Nothing truly stood out, nothing felt memorable in a significant way. On the surface, it looked more relaxed compared to November. But when I looked back more honestly, I realized that the beginning of December was actually very heavy. The dominant feeling that stayed with me throughout the month was being overwhelmed, quietly, constantly.

Work became one of the main sources of exhaustion. I experienced burnout, not only because of the workload that piled up toward the end of the year, but also because of something that seemed small yet deeply affected my mood: my laptop. Every morning began with frustration. The laptop kept malfunctioning, and even after being “fixed,” it never truly worked properly. Starting the day already annoyed made everything feel heavier. Burnout came from those two things combined, the technical struggle and the accumulation of tasks. Fortunately, in the middle of the month, the office lent me a new laptop. Since then, the burnout slowly faded, and work became more manageable again.

There was no year-end target chasing, no resolutions to fulfill. I stopped setting yearly goals a long time ago. Living life itself already feels exhausting enough, adding annual resolutions only makes it worse. I personally prefer setting monthly goals, based on current needs and circumstances. December also felt lighter because of the many holidays: Christmas, New Year, and the remaining leave days I used. At least, I had some time to rest.

Financially, I feel tired of hoping things will get better ever since my husband was laid off [Stepping Into a Role I Never Asked For]. My mindset has shifted into survival mode: just live today. If there is money, Alhamdulillah. If there isn’t, then it is what it is, as long as my child can eat. Even so, I realized that I spent quite a lot this month, mostly on snacks and eating out. I tried to hold back, but I still kept craving food, this and that.

The worries never really stopped. I often find myself wondering, why does my life feel like this, over and over again? People say life goes in cycles, sometimes up, sometimes down. But why does it feel like mine is always down? Maybe my life’s wheel is oval, not round, hehe. I reflect a lot on why our life turned out this way, and if I’m asked what needs to be fixed, the answer is painful: there are so many things. Too many.

Mentally, there was a moment when I felt completely exhausted. My two-year-old was being fussy, wanting many things but unable to express them clearly. In that moment, I consciously pushed him until he fell. I felt immediate regret. But at the same time, I was so tired and just wanted to be understood. And yet, I know my child also wants to be understood. That realization hurt.

Regarding my relationship, my self-reflection led me to think that perhaps my life feels this way because I complain too much about my husband. I count his flaws, resent his shortcomings, and compare him to other men. But at the same time, I question myself: how am I supposed not to feel this way if he behaves the way he does? Gratitude feels very difficult when it comes to his attitude and character. Eventually, I became quieter. More resigned. Like… ah, whatever.

This month taught me something uncomfortable about myself: why do I keep thinking about other people’s feelings when they don’t even think about mine? Yet when I express my thoughts, I’m told that I’m the one who lacks empathy. My point of view and others’ perspectives are different, and I am tired of trying to understand this world.

If there is one small thing I can say I’m proud of, it’s this: even though my husband has no income, he doesn’t stop me from spending money on food. Or maybe he’s just tired of stopping me, so he lets it be. Either way, I’m grateful for that small freedom.

December ended not with clarity, not with hope, but with quiet exhaustion. Still standing. Still moving. Even if it feels flat, even if it feels heavy, I made it to the end of the month—and maybe that is enough for now.

Drama China sering kali terlihat ringan dan tidak memakan banyak waktu. Setidaknya, itulah yang saya pikirkan di awal. Bayangkan saja, satu episode hanya sekitar lima menit. Ketika melihat total episode yang “hanya” sekitar 50-an, hitungannya terasa masuk akal: 5 menit × 50 episode = 250 menit. Jauh lebih singkat dibandingkan drama Korea yang satu episodenya bisa mencapai hampir dua jam. Saat itu saya merasa, ah, ini cuma drama pendek, cepat selesai.

Namun kenyataannya tidak sesederhana itu.

Setelah satu judul selesai, muncul judul lain yang terlihat tak kalah menarik. Alurnya mirip, pemerannya cantik dan tampan, konfliknya ringan tapi bikin penasaran. Tanpa sadar, satu drama berganti menjadi dua, lalu tiga. Waktu yang awalnya terasa “sebentar” berubah menjadi berjam-jam yang hilang begitu saja. Di sinilah saya mulai menyadari bahwa bukan durasi per episode yang berbahaya, tapi kesinambungan ceritanya.

Dampaknya tidak berhenti di situ. Ketika menonton terlalu intens, cerita dalam drama tersebut terbawa hingga ke alam bawah sadar. Saya pernah mengalami mimpi dengan alur dan imajinasi yang mirip dengan drama yang sedang ditonton, seolah otak belum benar-benar berhenti memproses ceritanya, bahkan saat tidur. Ini membuat kualitas istirahat menurun dan pikiran terasa lelah meskipun tubuh sudah berbaring lama.

Secara emosional, drama China juga perlahan membentuk ekspektasi yang terlalu tinggi terhadap realita. Kisah cinta yang manis, perhatian berlebihan dari tokoh utama pria, hingga gambaran pasangan ideal seperti CEO muda, kaya, tampan, dan super romantis membuat dunia nyata terasa hambar. Tanpa sadar, saya mulai membandingkan kehidupan nyata dengan kisah fiksi, padahal keduanya jelas tidak berada di level yang sama.

Selain itu, ada dampak lain yang lebih halus namun cukup mengganggu, yaitu pergeseran standar kecantikan dan ketampanan. Hampir semua pemeran wanita digambarkan putih, tinggi, langsing, dengan rambut panjang terurai dan hidung mancung. Sementara pemeran pria digambarkan super tinggi, badan sixpack, wajah mulus, dan nyaris tanpa cela. Paparan visual seperti ini secara perlahan membentuk standar ideal di kepala, meskipun secara sadar kita tahu bahwa itu tidak realistis dan sangat selektif.

Tanpa disadari, hal ini bisa memengaruhi cara memandang diri sendiri maupun orang lain. Standar yang terlalu tinggi membuat rasa tidak puas semakin mudah muncul, baik terhadap penampilan sendiri maupun terhadap realitas sekitar.

Pada akhirnya, menonton drama China bukanlah sesuatu yang sepenuhnya negatif. Ia bisa menjadi hiburan, pelarian sementara, bahkan sumber inspirasi. Namun pengalaman pribadi ini mengajarkan bahwa hiburan yang terlihat singkat dan ringan tetap perlu dikendalikan. Tanpa batasan, ia bisa memengaruhi waktu, emosi, mimpi, hingga cara kita memandang hidup dan realita. 

Jadi, sudah menonton drama pendek China berapa hari ini? hehe

November came with a heavier rhythm, even though I had started taking more leave to use up my annual days off. I thought stepping away from work once in a while would ease the load, but the truth is life outside the office didn’t slow down either. It felt like trying to steal a breath in between waves, only to find another one already on its way.

Work grew thicker, busier, almost like everything decided to arrive at once. Sometimes I wondered whether it was simply the workload… or if I was quietly burning out without realizing it.

Financially, things remained tight. Nothing new, but still exhausting. I couldn’t freely use the salary I brought home. There were too many things lined up: school fees, our helper’s salary, utilities, kitchen essentials, and the constant, invisible expenses that simply come with living. I tried my best not to burden my husband, not to add weight to his shoulders. He still didn’t have a stable job, relying on uncertain freelance projects. Yet somehow, he always managed to fill the gaps. Part of me was grateful, another part worried he might be leaning on the credit card more than he admitted. That fear alone kept me cautious so I wouldn’t add to his burden, financially or mentally.

I often thought about letting our helper go, just to ease the monthly expenses. But then reality answered quickly: Who would take care of the chaos left by a toddler? Who would iron, sweep, mop, and handle the mountain of daily chores when I already spent my days working and managing everything in the kitchen? I knew I couldn’t do all of it. And expecting my husband to share the load wasn’t an option, he simply wouldn’t. Having a helper is one of the few things that keeps me from losing my sanity.

Sometimes, I wondered if I should take a part-time job. But where I live, part-time work, especially at night isn’t common. And honestly, I wasn’t sure where I’d even find the energy. I saw people out there juggling multiple roles effortlessly, as if they were immune to exhaustion. Meanwhile, even small fatigue could knock me down. The world felt unforgiving. And in darker moments, I found myself wondering, if life is this hard, will the afterlife be harsher still?

Emotionally, November felt like walking with too much to carry. Overwhelmed, that might be the closest word. Nothing ever felt quite enough. I kept searching for answers about why my child’s weight wasn’t improving, bouncing between worry, frustration, and guilt. Maybe that was what drained me most, feeling like I wasn’t doing enough, even when I was doing everything I could.

And yet, in a strange way, I’m grateful. The days felt slow while living them, but now that I look back, they passed quickly. Maybe that’s November’s quiet lesson: It’s okay to move slowly, as long as you don’t stop.

This October began with a lighter feeling than the previous month. Maybe last month’s chaos forced me to grow sturdier, so even a small bit of peace felt like sunlight breaking through.

But that calm didn’t stay for long. In the middle of the month, I was hit with chickenpox. I was worried about scars. People say that getting it as an adult leaves marks that don’t fade easily. Thankfully, the marks on my skin were few. But the pain beneath the surface was another story. In those first days, my body felt like it had turned into fragile glass, every movement ached, even staying still felt like pressure from within. My appetite vanished completely. Even my favorite foods failed to stir anything in me. They just went to waste. I survived mostly on water and tiny bites of snacks, just enough to keep myself going.

And then, as one wave settled, another rose. My husband fell sick too and not just physically. His spirit dimmed. It was the first time he let me see the weight he’d been carrying. I realized we were both walking through the same fog, each of us quietly trying not to trouble the other. We were both tired, both overwhelmed, both had moments of wanting to give up. There were moments when both of us felt close to the edge. Yet in the middle of all that heaviness, our child remained the small, steady lighthouse guiding us forward. A reminder of why we keep standing, even when life feels like it keeps trying to knock us down.

Ironically, this month was supposed to be a joyful one, our child’s birth month. A time for gratitude, celebration, warmth. Instead, it felt muted and grey. But hidden within that gloom, something important happened: we began to understand each other more honestly. There was a quiet sense of relief in knowing that it wasn’t only me who felt pressured or hopeless, that both of us were carrying our own pain, silently. It's a blessed neither of us was walking alone. We were two tired travelers resting under the same sky, sharing the same quiet fears.

October taught me that expectations shouldn’t become invisible ropes around someone else’s shoulders. That supporting each other means recognizing when the other is close to breaking. That sometimes strength isn’t about pushing forward, but about admitting we’re worn down.

For November, my hope is simple: that my husband finds job that can help steady our steps again. I’m wishing for a month where the light returns slowly but surely, even if only in small rays. As long as we continue moving forward together, that’s enough.

Tuhan, jiwa ini terasa semakin rapuh, tak tahu harus bagaimana, kemana, dan apa. Aku merasa... menjadi dewasa itu begitu melelahkan. Terlalu banyak tanggung jawab, tuntutan, dan harapan yang datang bertubi-tubi, seolah tanpa jeda. Semua orang seolah menunggu aku kuat, tegar, dan selalu siap. Tapi di dalam hati, aku merasa kosong, hampa, tak berarti. Aku ingin pulang.

Akhir-akhir ini aku sering merasa sangat lelah, bukan hanya kelelahan fisik, tapi lelah yang rasanya sampai ke jiwa. Aku tidur terlalu banyak, tapi tetap bangun dengan perasaan lelah. Nafsu makan menurun. Bahkan aku tak lagi merasa lapar, aku makan hanya merasa karena aku harus makan. Hal-hal yang dulu bisa bikin aku tersenyum, sekarang rasanya hambar. Aku ingin pulang.

Kadang aku hanya duduk diam, termenung, tapi pikiranku berisik sekali. Seberisik itu hingga terkadang aku ingin berteriak, aku lelah ingin berhenti sejenak. Namun kemudian, aku merasa bersalah karena merasa lelah, karena tidak sekuat yang orang harapkan, karena ingin berhenti sejenak padahal tahu tidak bisa. Aku ingin pulang. 

Di rumah dan dalam hubungan, bebanku terasa paling berat. Aku mencoba menjadi istri yang baik, ibu yang hadir, dan penopang ekonomi keluarga. Tapi siapa yang menopangku? Siapa yang memelukku saat aku lelah? Aku selalu memasang wajah berseri bahagia didepan anakku, membohonginya dengan topeng palsuku. Aku lelah dengan semua ini. Aku sadar... aku sudah terlalu lama menahan semuanya sendirian. Oleh karena itu, aku ingin pulang.

Ada hari-hari di mana aku merasa mati rasa. Bangun pagi bukan karena semangat, tapi karena harus. Aku menjalani hari seperti otomatis, mengurus, bekerja, bertanggung jawab. Tapi di antara semua itu, aku kehilangan sesuatu: aku sendiri. Siapa aku? Untuk apa aku hidup? Ah, aku ingin pulang.

Tidak punya tempat bercerita membuat semuanya terasa semakin berat. Kadang aku ingin ada seseorang yang cuma duduk di sebelah dan bilang, “nggak apa-apa kalau kamu lelah.” Tapi yang ada justru tuntutan baru, harapan baru, beban baru. Apakah normal, menginginkan pasangan yang lebih kuat daripada aku? Ah, tentunya pasanganku juga menginginkan hal serupa dariku bukan? Aku ingin pulang saja.

Tuhan, aku ingin pulang. Tapi saat ini, aku sudah dirumah. Lalu pulang seperti apa yang jiwa ini inginkan?