Help

Help, what is it? According to the concise Oxford Dictionary, help would be defined as" make it easier for (someone) to do something. O improve (a situation or problem); be of benefit to. O assist (someone) to move in a specified direction."

See the astonishing amount of definitions of it. I daresay myself, that I'm a pretty helpful person. My definition of help would be the first one, for sure : to make it easier to do something. I do not know why, but I really do enjoy helping people. I can't put into words how much it pleasures me when I see their smiles when they can accomplish something because I helped them out.

Yet, as one of the definitions puts it, "to be of benefit to." It's little wonder that people acknowledge my existence only when they need help. When they need the benefits. Without benefits, I can easily be said as nothing to them. Yes, I know that this world may be harsh, people like this DO exist. However, this doesn't mean people can use me till I dry up and throw me away like a ragged cloth. What I implore of them is but the simple act of acknowledging my presence, be it as a friend, or as a regular acquantaince, it matters not.

Why is it so? I find myself waking up in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep, thinking of what I mean to myself, and to the others around me. You might say I choose those around me. Yet it's not how it appears. I'm pretty much a loner at times. There are quite a number of people (though I shall be courteous enough to not mention specifically) who only come to me if they have any problems, that they think I can solve. Be it coincidence or my impeccable versatility, I somehow end up having the abilities to put an end to their troubles. And what happens? They come to me only if they need help, or so-called "benefits". My usual existence is lower than that of a flea's, but when trouble, I skyrocket into an MVP in the blink of an eye.

If I may pose just one question : How exactly would you feel if people you considered to be your friends actually treated you like a packet of condoms?

As the Chinese proverb speaks, "助人?快?之本" or "helping people is the base of happiness", I find myself already doubting it. Of course, there're times when I'm happy when helping certain people, yet there are also times when thoughts like "people like this, why am I even striving to help them out?" cross my mind. Yet, I'm too much of a kind person to turn down every request coming my way. Why did I choose to walk the path of studying medicine in the first place? Because I wanted to help people. Growing up in a family of doctors, I can comfortably say I've seen much suffering. All through the eyes of a child, and moving on.

When I first started medicine, I wanted to be a cardiologist, or perhaps a paediatrician. Yet disturbing thoughts I've mentioned above constantly trouble me. Childish as I may be, I now think that I should just specialize in forensic sciences next time. Why? Well, of course the dead do not know you, yet if you help them speak, it would be an utterly different matter. Perhaps this may be a childish thought sparked by HK dramas (no thanks to a certain Madam Loh), but I just have this feeling that, just as the dead tell no tales, neither would they treat you like a box of condoms.

Either way, I stand at crossroads. No, I have been standing at crossroads, from four to five weeks ago. Left says to maintain this way of life, accept everything that comes my way, help everyone regardless of whether they appreciate it or not. Right says to put everything to a stop.

Perhaps this shall be a problem that haunts me for the rest of my days, I know not. For now, I stand up again, ready for a batter tomorrow. ('sif that day would ever come, eh?)

Now to you, the reader of this blog : 私の存在は何の物?