I am afraid of confrontation, that is my problem.


Not just when I want to tell people that their actions hurt me, to resolve, to re-understand, to reconcile. I am also terrible at telling my friends if they should be corrected. If loved ones don't correct each other, who else will? I love my friends, but I am terrible at correcting them.


Because I am afraid of conflict.


I am afraid to cry. Because I always do even at the slightest things. I hate myself for that, because I was taught not to cry in my childhood. I cry in my own room. I cry in the shower, like I did when I was 14 and I witnessed a small boy pour scalding hot water on a stray dog, just because it was greedily sniffing about! The only time I dared cry in front of my parents without fearing a scolding, was when I was 17 years old. At that time, I was in JC 1, and I was stressed. I was staying with my uncle's family instead of with my parents who are staying in JB. I hate relatives. They treat you like second-class citizens, yet act cordial while doing it - typical extended family behaviour. I was unhappy staying with them, and I wanted to move somewhere else, to rent my own room. At first, my parents didn't understand, and my moving out will mean more expenses for them, but in the end I was so stressed over the matter, I cried and said that I couldn't take staying with the relatives anymore.


Conflict makes me cry. Whether I am at fault, or the other person. Whether I am angry, or hurt. And as I grow older, more and more things hurt me easily - and I have no idea why. Today, H talked to me on the phone, and he said I cried for 2 hours - which was the duration of our phonecall. What is wrong with me?


Nonetheless, I know now that I fear confrontation. I am afraid of getting hurt, I am afraid of getting shouted at, I am afraid I will shout and hurt those that I love so dearly.


But, all these things will happen, in the form of arguments - bitter fact of life, as what H said. Because I have feared confrontation, I have avoided resolving issues, and carried them with me forever, and that is classic repression. And we know where that always leads me to.


I feel better now, but I feel terribly weak. I want to be a workaholic powerhouse wonder woman. But I am not: I am a loser tai-tai wannabe. I suddenly realise, that I might not make it, and fear grips me again like the way my chest tightens when the weather is so cold that I can bearly breathe.