I Still Want The Tteokbokki
I’m not quite fond of letting my thoughts sit in my head. I will either choose distractions or release them by talking to myself. It’s in my nature to over-analyze things, which is not a really pleasant activity, I must say. You just never know where it will take you. Sometimes it leads you to an epiphany, but most of the time, you’re running straight off of the cliff — nothing in between. Living with depression & panic disorder, I always picture my mind as the after hour Jakarta traffic most of the time; cacophonous, hostile, full-on holy mess. Some stay in their lane, taking their time. Some are heedless drivers you don’t see coming, almost delivering you a heart attack every time.
What I mean by that is I don’t remember the last time my head is quiet. Everything is tangled, knotted with each other. I have zero skill in telling a story in linear order because of this. I’m always thinking about something else when I’m thinking about something. It either hoards me with bursting energy & you’ll find me as the epitome of sugar-rush. Or I will be just.. exhausted & suicidal.
5.20 PM, the AC was a bit too cold. Didn’t feel like turning on the radio. And for god knows why I recognized a panic attack crawling sluggishly. This is what therapy does for you: you learn to notice it before the impact so you buckle up for minimum damage. Also, while we’re on it, I hope people understand that panic attacks might look different with each individual. I experience the common hyperventilating & temporary paralysis, but mostly it happens in the silence. From tightness in your chest & throat, disassociating, numbing limbs, extreme emotional build-up, you’re just spiraling with no ground in sight. The traffic lights turned red, and I was so sure I would die because my heart felt like it was going to burst. Even so, my anxiety topped it off by telling me, “you’re gonna crash and kill other people; imagine how sad their family will be”.
My therapist’s voice rang in my ears. She taught me the first aid of a panic attack: wake up all the senses. It’s the art of distraction, really.
“5 things you can see”
Ciputra Mall is setting up a new tower for whatever reason. Their main building is dying, for god’s sake — what a bold move.
My reflection on the rearview mirror. For the first time in my 24 years of life, I’m having an acne breakout. Pandemic thing? Idk. Surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me at all.
Empty coffee tumbler in the passenger seat. Apparently, Djajan Kopi has not yet opened at 9 AM.
Blue hair tie in my wrist.
McDonald’s at Bundaran Satelit. I’ve always wondered how much they paid for such a superb location. This McD remains the most superior among other McDs in town.
“4 things you can listen to.”
My own breath.
Someone just texted me on WhatsApp. Probably work stuff.
Drizzle hitting the car roof.
Motorbike horns.
“3 things you can touch.”
The rough texture of the steering wheel.
My hair.
The coins in the dashboard.
“2 things you can smell.”
My new t-shirt I’m wearing. Bought it two days ago at Teras Rumah Local Proud Market. I spent way beyond my budget on plants.
The BerryBomb car perfume I got from the t-shirt brand. It was owned by a bunch of cool kids, I had fun chatting with them.
“1 thing you can taste.”
I ripped the Kopiko wrap with my teeth.
Sometimes I lurk on my therapist’s Instagram page. It kind of makes me feel godawful to make her deal with my crap. I know, it’s her job. But I just need the affirmation that even after all the horrid sessions she went through with me, she still has a normal happy life. The last time I checked, her wedding day was around the corner. I sent her a scented candle set for her engagement day. I know the storm has passed because by then I was busy thinking about what to give the couple on their big day. Fleurs? Baked goodies? Books?
Flickering headlights. Considering if I should stop by for gas after this turnover.
I want tteokbokki.
But there is no decent Korean food restaurant on my route and I was already 10 minutes away from home. I didn’t plan to get back late. I really, really, want a warm bowl of tteokbokki though. Or maybe Japanese? I couldn’t say no to sushi but having rice at that hour would be just asking for a sleeping problem. Believe me when I say the process of making this decision only brought me to the verge of crying. It was just.. too much.
Maybe I’ll just starve myself to see how long I can go on without food. It’s an old habit I can’t get rid of. When I was a kid, I would hold my breath at random times just because. In my head, I’d tell myself I didn’t actually need the air. Somehow my body would believe it, the discomfort got more tolerable, and my nerves calmed down. That’s when the fun part happened. After 30 seconds passed, you’d feel lighter, like gravity let go of you. I imagined myself as an astronaut, floating around — in the classroom, between the choir benches, around the volleyball court, eavesdropping my mother’s phone call with her sister, hovering upon our koi pond. A couple more seconds, and there would be a hole right on your chest, and you could feel the wind brushing your insides — the tingling sensation. I never got past 1 minute and 4 seconds. The air would jab my lungs and yanked me back like a snapped rubber band.
Years later, I came across this TED Talk about how we can cheat our brain to not feel pain. It’s a topic for another day, but basically, it involves observing the pain objectively as just an occurring event. In short: mindfulness. How fascinating.
Even after all these ponderings, my stomach let out the loudest growl. It was the perfect time for my impulsive to take over—so we turned right, parked at Wasana Thai. I didn’t even feel like having Thai food but here we are, right? I was the only guest. They handed me the menu, I scanned for any meat-free dishes,
“Som Tum, and Tom Yum Goong. Porsinya seberapa? Kira-kira saya bisa habisin sendiri nggak ya, Mas?”
He smiled politely, “Bisa dibungkus kok, Mbak”.
I nodded. Wasn’t the answer to my question but life’s too short for that.
The chef entered the kitchen, not before giving me a glance. I assumed I was the first guest the whole day? I overheard the waitresses talked about another Thai place in the area, the one with an infamously mean owner who mistreats her staff in public & picks a fight with guests. I hope they didn’t plan to move to work there.
The food was great. I spent my time savoring dinner while watching Hueningkai & Yeonjun’s interview. My lifelong dream is to be content enough with my own self & not intimidated by the silence that I can eat my meal without distraction. Today was not the day.
I paid, drove back home. Arrived. Took a shower, replied to every WhatsApp text from work. Replied to Kak Adis’ text. Replied to my illustrating gig client’s text — she took care of me so good, so patient with my work pace, making sure I wasn’t having too much on my plate, even got me to a yoga class. The bloating kicked in. I should’ve ordered pad thai. Sat on the couch and quickly got overwhelmed with everything that happened in the past few hours. Bakpao wasn’t interested in me. My sisters were studying.
I’m not quite fond of letting my thoughts sit in my head.
So here I am.