Just got another email from a friend living far away.
I'm not sure how she sensed what difficult period I am going through, what emotional mess I'm in right now, especially as we've not been in touch for a long time. But reading her short but very touching note made my heart warm and well up with emotions. I don't know how how she seems to know how I am feeling deep down inside, but her words reassured me that even in the face of adverse conditions, even in the face so much uncertainty and things falling apart in my life, I can pull through. Pull through and be the strong, determined and capable person she has always known me to be-- the person she is so proud of knowing, so proud to have befriended. But little does she know how precious she in my life, and how she has pushed and helped me in so many ways. Even to this day, from far, far away...
"You are helping her more than you could possibly imagine. Your love for
her is [...] helping her through her pain and
suffering" she wrote. And at the end: "Do not forget to take good care of yourself, too."
That's what I do too rarely, and I really must take more care of myself.
19 November 2011
sleeplessness
Feel so lonely in bed tonight...
Why am i so sensitive? Why do I feel so raw, so vulnerable, as if my heart is exposed to the elements and onslaught of emotions? Not even losing a loved one to death compares to this hollow emptiness inside...
Plea
"Can I go travel again...?" she said, with such hope and desperation, "[I] so much want to go travel again..."
Mum was telling me about this travel show she was watching, which was on Barcelona, a place where she came to visit me while I was doing a summer course there back in 2008. It was her first trip after dad passed away, and particularly memorable. For her, it was the Gaudi architecture that was inspiring, and the food that was so varied, colourful and tasty. She recounted restaurants we visited, including this one which we found out only when we were about to leave happened to be a Michellin star restaurant. "Such beautiful memories..." she said, and excitedly talked about how she and her friends used to travel to Europe every other year, taking different routes and exploring different parts of the continent by train.
Then she expressed her wish to travel again... As much as I hope she can do that, the reality may be different now because of her condition. As much as I would love to show her more of the world, or revisit memorable places with her, deep down perhaps she knows too that it will be a difficult challenge...
Still, I told her, we can go somewhere when she has finished the current treatment. But deep down inside, it felt like I was telling a lie to placate her, a lie you tell to a little child because you don't want to go into the details of why it is that certain things cannot be done, just to make her feel better, even though taking her away from the hospital, appointments, doctors and needles is something I would give anything in the world for...
Mum was telling me about this travel show she was watching, which was on Barcelona, a place where she came to visit me while I was doing a summer course there back in 2008. It was her first trip after dad passed away, and particularly memorable. For her, it was the Gaudi architecture that was inspiring, and the food that was so varied, colourful and tasty. She recounted restaurants we visited, including this one which we found out only when we were about to leave happened to be a Michellin star restaurant. "Such beautiful memories..." she said, and excitedly talked about how she and her friends used to travel to Europe every other year, taking different routes and exploring different parts of the continent by train.
Then she expressed her wish to travel again... As much as I hope she can do that, the reality may be different now because of her condition. As much as I would love to show her more of the world, or revisit memorable places with her, deep down perhaps she knows too that it will be a difficult challenge...
Still, I told her, we can go somewhere when she has finished the current treatment. But deep down inside, it felt like I was telling a lie to placate her, a lie you tell to a little child because you don't want to go into the details of why it is that certain things cannot be done, just to make her feel better, even though taking her away from the hospital, appointments, doctors and needles is something I would give anything in the world for...
Painfully sore
I came clean to mum and told her the truth. As expected she got worried, but with the knowledge that it is at least nothing serious, I dared to tell her where I was earlier today. I felt 'bad', and I needed to tell her.
She suspected something was up when I was up so early and already dressed and in a rush to leave. I guess you can easily tell if someone is hiding something, even if it is on the phone. So I told her I went to the clinic to get checked up by the doctor. Mum sort of scolded me for biting my nails, telling me off for still having such a bad habit and look at what it's causing me. She remembered that I had something like this before, and said she also developed something similar on her toe before. Once the nasty liquid pus is emptied, then the pain will go away.
I started to cry softly. And I told her exactly what had been on my mind... This is perhaps the most excruciating pain I can remember having, and yet she has to face pain and soreness everyday. She told me to 'watch' the pain, to meditate on the pain and watch the pain come and go. She goes through so much pain, and yet she is still there to comfort me with what minor and temporary pain I am experiencing.
"How brave you are to cope with this daily... How brave you are..." I can only imagine her pain is much, much worse, much more intense. I could not control my tears, even though they were silent ones, and luckily mum was not online to see my cry and wipe my tears. Why am I so weak? Why was I crying? She does not cry in the face of greater pain, mum does not cry facing the uncertainty of whether she will be around tomorrow... Mum had no idea I was crying, no idea how often on the phone with her I end up crying.
She told me not to think like that, not to think too much. The words and expression of love of a mother. But it's the way I am, however counter-productive and however negative I am as a person, I cannot control my mind having flashbacks of her lying there cringing and tearing from the pain. Really, there is nothing more excruciating than physical pain, pain gnawing at your nerves, pain throbbing like a part of the body is going to come off. And one of the worst feelings is to have to watch her suffer unbearable pain and be unable to do anything about it...
I apologised that I lied, but she was understanding and more concerned whether I have medicine to take away the pain. Why is it that the one who has just finished a heavy chemo treatment to keep her tumour under check is comforting the crybaby with a minor swollen thumb...?
She suspected something was up when I was up so early and already dressed and in a rush to leave. I guess you can easily tell if someone is hiding something, even if it is on the phone. So I told her I went to the clinic to get checked up by the doctor. Mum sort of scolded me for biting my nails, telling me off for still having such a bad habit and look at what it's causing me. She remembered that I had something like this before, and said she also developed something similar on her toe before. Once the nasty liquid pus is emptied, then the pain will go away.
I started to cry softly. And I told her exactly what had been on my mind... This is perhaps the most excruciating pain I can remember having, and yet she has to face pain and soreness everyday. She told me to 'watch' the pain, to meditate on the pain and watch the pain come and go. She goes through so much pain, and yet she is still there to comfort me with what minor and temporary pain I am experiencing.
"How brave you are to cope with this daily... How brave you are..." I can only imagine her pain is much, much worse, much more intense. I could not control my tears, even though they were silent ones, and luckily mum was not online to see my cry and wipe my tears. Why am I so weak? Why was I crying? She does not cry in the face of greater pain, mum does not cry facing the uncertainty of whether she will be around tomorrow... Mum had no idea I was crying, no idea how often on the phone with her I end up crying.
She told me not to think like that, not to think too much. The words and expression of love of a mother. But it's the way I am, however counter-productive and however negative I am as a person, I cannot control my mind having flashbacks of her lying there cringing and tearing from the pain. Really, there is nothing more excruciating than physical pain, pain gnawing at your nerves, pain throbbing like a part of the body is going to come off. And one of the worst feelings is to have to watch her suffer unbearable pain and be unable to do anything about it...
I apologised that I lied, but she was understanding and more concerned whether I have medicine to take away the pain. Why is it that the one who has just finished a heavy chemo treatment to keep her tumour under check is comforting the crybaby with a minor swollen thumb...?
18 November 2011
Longing
Friday night... a long and painful day.
Sitting at home trying to work, but my mind is distracted, my hand hurts...
And somehow my mind drifts to my ex...
The day began in his apartment, where I left in a strange mood. But suddenly now I miss him, want to see him. Is it the effects of the drugs taking control of my mind? I don't know, because I rarely take any of these antibiotics or painkillers....
Before, I would just pick up the phone and call my ex. For a chat, or just to see his face... Just not to be and feel alone. I don't want to be too clingy, to be too needy, because there is nothing more unattractive than a needy person, an attention seeker, and I have vowed to myself many many times not to become that person, and to always be an individual who is not afraid to be by himself... (maybe it's too late, for I am such a person...)
As much as I think about him, miss him for some reason or another, I must learn to deal with the loneliness and his absence... I must learn to resist the temptation and ease of being able to just call him up and have him over. Because I sometimes get the feeling he might be bored with me and feel like I am troubling him, being dependent on him too much...
And yet at the same time, with the day of his impending move away from the city, in some ways I would like to spend more time with him. Because if not now, then perhaps we won't really have a chance in the future to just get together whenever we want, to just call up each other and seek each other out, regardless of what time of day it is. That is definitely something I will miss dearly when he moves away...
Again, I don't want to feel too clingy. And I somehow sense he has his own plans already for the evening which I don't want to intrude into... Why would I want to intrude into his life when he has someone, and perhaps at this very moment may be intimate with that someone while I'm at home left feeling so lonely and so full of longing?
I'll just have to suck it in and tell myself that these feelings will pass. I cannot depend on another person for happiness or comfort, because one day, any day, it may all be taken away. And look at how this is making me feel right now...
Sitting at home trying to work, but my mind is distracted, my hand hurts...
And somehow my mind drifts to my ex...
The day began in his apartment, where I left in a strange mood. But suddenly now I miss him, want to see him. Is it the effects of the drugs taking control of my mind? I don't know, because I rarely take any of these antibiotics or painkillers....
Before, I would just pick up the phone and call my ex. For a chat, or just to see his face... Just not to be and feel alone. I don't want to be too clingy, to be too needy, because there is nothing more unattractive than a needy person, an attention seeker, and I have vowed to myself many many times not to become that person, and to always be an individual who is not afraid to be by himself... (maybe it's too late, for I am such a person...)
As much as I think about him, miss him for some reason or another, I must learn to deal with the loneliness and his absence... I must learn to resist the temptation and ease of being able to just call him up and have him over. Because I sometimes get the feeling he might be bored with me and feel like I am troubling him, being dependent on him too much...
And yet at the same time, with the day of his impending move away from the city, in some ways I would like to spend more time with him. Because if not now, then perhaps we won't really have a chance in the future to just get together whenever we want, to just call up each other and seek each other out, regardless of what time of day it is. That is definitely something I will miss dearly when he moves away...
Again, I don't want to feel too clingy. And I somehow sense he has his own plans already for the evening which I don't want to intrude into... Why would I want to intrude into his life when he has someone, and perhaps at this very moment may be intimate with that someone while I'm at home left feeling so lonely and so full of longing?
I'll just have to suck it in and tell myself that these feelings will pass. I cannot depend on another person for happiness or comfort, because one day, any day, it may all be taken away. And look at how this is making me feel right now...
Excrutiating pain...
The pain from my ingrown thumb nail is unbearable, I have really never felt anything like it. It's a throbbing pain that stings my nerve endings, that immoblises my right hand, and makes the back of my head ache from cringing and from trying to bear it with all my willpower... But at times the pain is so dizzying I feel I could collapse and faint...
They say there is nothing more acute than physical pain (maybe a heartbreak, but pain of a different type and degree...). Pain that you cannot control, because your body is trying to tell you something is wrong. And luckily I've rarely had to deal with physical ailments... until two days ago when the swelling suddenly and unexpectedly began. Pus was collecting, and the skin above the cuticle of the thumb was being stretched to abnormal proportions. That was probably the cause of the pain... that the this feeling of feverish warmth and burning sensation mixed with constant throbbing pain. The pain is so bad that I had to go buy painkillers, something I've never ever done before (in fact, I didn't know how or when to ingest them...)
I really have to stop biting my fingers, because as someone told me today, I brought this all on myself... All that gnawing and biting, chewing and attempts to peel back thin layers of the nail as far as possible into the flesh... Is it a thrill, a form of self-mortification, an expression of my nervousness? I do not know. But I know I am suffering as a result of it right now...
I cannot even bend my thumb and seem to have lost control of that bit of my hand, whereas it is the bit that hurts the most. And because it affects my right hand, I can't perform simple tasks like just opening the bottle of antibiotics I have been prescribed with (embarrassingly, my colleague had to do that for me...) The doctor told me to soak the numb in warm water and try to squeeze the pus out, which I did. And when it happened, much of the tension and pain was released. Out oozed this smelly yellowish, thick liquid that just kept on coming out. And where there used to be inflammation was now just stretched old skin covering blackened clots of blood. It really is very nasty to look at, and horribly smelly. And now I am left with a heightened sense of pain that makes me cringe and want to cry. My friend warned me I have to be careful because too intense a pain can cause fever, and he even offered to escort me home. Is it going to get worse before it gets better, I wonder...
And this is just the pain from a nerve ending at the tip of the thumb. Imagine the pain mum has to bear with her nerve and spinal cord being pressed by the tumour? Imagine that pain, if the pain I am feeling now is already so very, very unbearable... How brave my mum is, how very, very brave I could cry if I just think about now...
Pain, pain... now I know personally how it can paralyse your daily functions and fill your mind with agony and dizziness.
They say there is nothing more acute than physical pain (maybe a heartbreak, but pain of a different type and degree...). Pain that you cannot control, because your body is trying to tell you something is wrong. And luckily I've rarely had to deal with physical ailments... until two days ago when the swelling suddenly and unexpectedly began. Pus was collecting, and the skin above the cuticle of the thumb was being stretched to abnormal proportions. That was probably the cause of the pain... that the this feeling of feverish warmth and burning sensation mixed with constant throbbing pain. The pain is so bad that I had to go buy painkillers, something I've never ever done before (in fact, I didn't know how or when to ingest them...)
I really have to stop biting my fingers, because as someone told me today, I brought this all on myself... All that gnawing and biting, chewing and attempts to peel back thin layers of the nail as far as possible into the flesh... Is it a thrill, a form of self-mortification, an expression of my nervousness? I do not know. But I know I am suffering as a result of it right now...
I cannot even bend my thumb and seem to have lost control of that bit of my hand, whereas it is the bit that hurts the most. And because it affects my right hand, I can't perform simple tasks like just opening the bottle of antibiotics I have been prescribed with (embarrassingly, my colleague had to do that for me...) The doctor told me to soak the numb in warm water and try to squeeze the pus out, which I did. And when it happened, much of the tension and pain was released. Out oozed this smelly yellowish, thick liquid that just kept on coming out. And where there used to be inflammation was now just stretched old skin covering blackened clots of blood. It really is very nasty to look at, and horribly smelly. And now I am left with a heightened sense of pain that makes me cringe and want to cry. My friend warned me I have to be careful because too intense a pain can cause fever, and he even offered to escort me home. Is it going to get worse before it gets better, I wonder...
And this is just the pain from a nerve ending at the tip of the thumb. Imagine the pain mum has to bear with her nerve and spinal cord being pressed by the tumour? Imagine that pain, if the pain I am feeling now is already so very, very unbearable... How brave my mum is, how very, very brave I could cry if I just think about now...
Pain, pain... now I know personally how it can paralyse your daily functions and fill your mind with agony and dizziness.
Lying
I had to lie this morning to my mum. I was up at 7.30, and all dressed up. Though she could not tell that my clothes were wrinkled and the same as the ones I wore yesterday, she did comment that it was the shirt that she bought me when we were traveling in BC during the Summer.
To the question why I was up so early, I made up that I had to go see someone... And when she pressed me for whom, I said my professor. In truth, I needed to get up early to go see the doctor about my swollen thumb, which has caused me much pain, distress and sleeplessness. I didn't want to tell her I was going into the clinic, because otherwise she would get all worried. And having just finished another chemotherapy session, the last thing she needed was worry and stress. So I would rather hurt my own karma by lying than causing her worry...
The doctor said it was nothing too serious, and the swelling was the result of an "ingrown nail", which in turn is probably caused by some kind of infection that got into my gnawed finger nails. Terrible habit of mine I've had since a child, which does not seem to stop... And actually, I've had very similar swelling and pain before in other fingers. All that needs to be done is let the pus somehow get out of the skin, and the swelling will go down. I was much relieved, and left the clinic with my first prescription for antibiotics. For the next days or so, I'll have to soak my thumb in warm water to let the skin soften and try to get the pus out, which should relieve the pain and cure my swelling...
While at the doctor, I told her about my poor quality of sleep. She said I should exercise more, get my body to be physically tired, and not just mentally tired, so that I will rest better. I told her about all the dreams I have, all the thoughts that are going on inside my head, and she just said it's nothing to be alarmed about, rather physical exercise and longer sleeping hours will improve my sleep quality. No drugs or pills can help me, just good rest and a relaxed mind.
That's good to know.
To the question why I was up so early, I made up that I had to go see someone... And when she pressed me for whom, I said my professor. In truth, I needed to get up early to go see the doctor about my swollen thumb, which has caused me much pain, distress and sleeplessness. I didn't want to tell her I was going into the clinic, because otherwise she would get all worried. And having just finished another chemotherapy session, the last thing she needed was worry and stress. So I would rather hurt my own karma by lying than causing her worry...
The doctor said it was nothing too serious, and the swelling was the result of an "ingrown nail", which in turn is probably caused by some kind of infection that got into my gnawed finger nails. Terrible habit of mine I've had since a child, which does not seem to stop... And actually, I've had very similar swelling and pain before in other fingers. All that needs to be done is let the pus somehow get out of the skin, and the swelling will go down. I was much relieved, and left the clinic with my first prescription for antibiotics. For the next days or so, I'll have to soak my thumb in warm water to let the skin soften and try to get the pus out, which should relieve the pain and cure my swelling...
While at the doctor, I told her about my poor quality of sleep. She said I should exercise more, get my body to be physically tired, and not just mentally tired, so that I will rest better. I told her about all the dreams I have, all the thoughts that are going on inside my head, and she just said it's nothing to be alarmed about, rather physical exercise and longer sleeping hours will improve my sleep quality. No drugs or pills can help me, just good rest and a relaxed mind.
That's good to know.
Sushi night
Last night we had a sushi party, partly to celebrate the (brief) return of a friend to the city, and partly as a last (?) get-together before my ex moves away at the end of the year. It was fun to see all the friends gathered, and to laugh and bond over lots of good food. Making sushi was great, and earlier in the day, my ex and I went down to Chinatown to buy lots of ingredients to make sure the evening was a success. And it really was.
It's been a while since we last organised an event together, and I kind of missed cooking together. The excitement of drawing up a menu, the hours standing around in the kitchen chatting and preparing food. It was like old times... It really felt like old times, just laughing, joking around and getting tipsy on good wine and food.
Then suddenly at one point, my ex's phone rang. He quickly went away to chat, but I could hear laughter on the phone. It was his friend. And again, I began to feel really uncomfortable being there, at my ex's place. Why would I feel like that? Why does it matter if he is just talking to a friend? I guess it's all because it's the whole reason the evening felt like old times, but was not. The intimacy, the subtle touches and pokes of one another's bodies have become awkward. I want so much to touch him, but dare not for fear of rejecting and coming on too strongly... for fear of making my ex uncomfortable. Is it really just me who wants to do all those intimate things? I sometimes get the feeling he can miraculously just switch off his feelings, and I have been relegated to someone he has something with, but can now let go off... Just a feeling, just my feeling...
Why am I lamenting? I never did have an entitlement to be my ex's partner, and he is free to be with whomever he wants, to speak to whomever he wants to speak to. I don't own him, I don't have a monopoly on his care or love or affection. He chose to be with me at one point, then he broke it off so he can find himself. And now, six months down the line, we still find ourselves in the uncomfortable limbo of being less than lovers, but more than friends. That balance is difficult to adjust to, and moments when I see my ex talking so sweetly on the phone to his friend, I just freeze, and ask myself what I am doing exposing myself to this kind of hurt. It would be better not to see all that. How would he feel I I started to chat sweetly with someone right in front of him, or have to excuse myself during get-togethers just to have a chat?
So the rest of the evening, I was friendly, but a little distant. And when it came to bed time (as it was so late already...) I said I wanted to sleep alone. Not to punish him or anything, but I just felt I would sleep better alone, and I needed to be alone. I insisted on sleeping in his living room, but he offered me his bed, and somehow for a while we both ended up sleeping on the floor in the living room.
I twisted and turned on the floor and could not really sleep. My head was spinning from the alcohol, and since two days my thumb has been swollen and filling with some kind of puss for some unknown reason just above the nail. The pain was throbbing and unbearable throughout the night, and I could only lie there trying to calm my agitated mind but to no avail. My mind was so unsettled, and there was an awkward silence between us for a while. I knew he did not sleep for a little while, until I could hear his breathing next to me...
The physical pain from my swollen thumb, the hurt of having to witness yet another episode of my ex's chats with his friend... I lay there until the early hours of the morning and only managed to fall asleep for two hours or so...
Come morning, I left his apartment early to go to the walk-in clinic to have my thumb checked. Just before leaving my ex lay in bed and said he is trying to understand why the climate of a wonderful evening somehow suddenly took a change...
I too am trying to understand. And I cannot.
It's been a while since we last organised an event together, and I kind of missed cooking together. The excitement of drawing up a menu, the hours standing around in the kitchen chatting and preparing food. It was like old times... It really felt like old times, just laughing, joking around and getting tipsy on good wine and food.
Then suddenly at one point, my ex's phone rang. He quickly went away to chat, but I could hear laughter on the phone. It was his friend. And again, I began to feel really uncomfortable being there, at my ex's place. Why would I feel like that? Why does it matter if he is just talking to a friend? I guess it's all because it's the whole reason the evening felt like old times, but was not. The intimacy, the subtle touches and pokes of one another's bodies have become awkward. I want so much to touch him, but dare not for fear of rejecting and coming on too strongly... for fear of making my ex uncomfortable. Is it really just me who wants to do all those intimate things? I sometimes get the feeling he can miraculously just switch off his feelings, and I have been relegated to someone he has something with, but can now let go off... Just a feeling, just my feeling...
Why am I lamenting? I never did have an entitlement to be my ex's partner, and he is free to be with whomever he wants, to speak to whomever he wants to speak to. I don't own him, I don't have a monopoly on his care or love or affection. He chose to be with me at one point, then he broke it off so he can find himself. And now, six months down the line, we still find ourselves in the uncomfortable limbo of being less than lovers, but more than friends. That balance is difficult to adjust to, and moments when I see my ex talking so sweetly on the phone to his friend, I just freeze, and ask myself what I am doing exposing myself to this kind of hurt. It would be better not to see all that. How would he feel I I started to chat sweetly with someone right in front of him, or have to excuse myself during get-togethers just to have a chat?
So the rest of the evening, I was friendly, but a little distant. And when it came to bed time (as it was so late already...) I said I wanted to sleep alone. Not to punish him or anything, but I just felt I would sleep better alone, and I needed to be alone. I insisted on sleeping in his living room, but he offered me his bed, and somehow for a while we both ended up sleeping on the floor in the living room.
I twisted and turned on the floor and could not really sleep. My head was spinning from the alcohol, and since two days my thumb has been swollen and filling with some kind of puss for some unknown reason just above the nail. The pain was throbbing and unbearable throughout the night, and I could only lie there trying to calm my agitated mind but to no avail. My mind was so unsettled, and there was an awkward silence between us for a while. I knew he did not sleep for a little while, until I could hear his breathing next to me...
The physical pain from my swollen thumb, the hurt of having to witness yet another episode of my ex's chats with his friend... I lay there until the early hours of the morning and only managed to fall asleep for two hours or so...
Come morning, I left his apartment early to go to the walk-in clinic to have my thumb checked. Just before leaving my ex lay in bed and said he is trying to understand why the climate of a wonderful evening somehow suddenly took a change...
I too am trying to understand. And I cannot.
17 November 2011
Turning away
Sleep was so terribly disturbed last night.
My ex came by and we slept next to one another. No "funny business", just talking and a bit of soft petting. At one point he turned away, like he always does right before falling asleep to face the wall. I was still talking, about something 'heavy' that's been on my mind...
Earlier he mentioned that someone he knows is planning to move abroad with the person who he's dating. A 23 year old who lives in Paris. And who has cancer. Survival rate is fifty-fifty...
It just came as such a shock to me... Imagine what that feels like at such a young age... Imagine what the partner must feel like. And it made me wonder, out loud, in bed, what it would be like if I were to have cancer one day...
"The scariest thing is being alone..." I said "It's important to have support..." support, love, care, or just a simple touch from someone who cares, can do wonders. I see it with my mum. But I could feel my ex twitching next to me, and hear his soft breathing. I'm not sure he heard what I said, which was kind of disappointing. He was tired and it was late, so I too turned away from him, and curled up, like I always do, in a foetal position, and tried to sleep.
But it was hard... And for the entire night, even if I'd sleep for a little while I'd wake up feeling so very alone, even though there was someone right next to me. And not just someone, but the one person I thought would make me feel complete and warm. Instead, for a while, I felt so empty, and felt like there was a void that nobody can understand. At one point, I decided to turn my entire body around, to sleep at the foot of the bed. Somehow that helped and I fell asleep for a bit...
But not before a myriad of thoughts went through my mind. Why am I tiring myself, torturing myself with someone who cannot or does not want to give me the depth of love and affection i need? Nothing to do with him, but me...
Why do I feel I need to constantly prove myself worthy of being loved, worthy of his love in particular? Why do I feel like I need to have assurance from my ex, who has told me again and again he doesn't want to be with me (at least not now...)? Why am I the one who seems to be making the moves and who wants to touch and kiss him all over, when he seems to have lost interest? I need to stop. Really need to stop dragging on this limbo that has been continuing for too long. How can I sleep next to him and feel so empty of feeling inside? That's very telling. I too will turn away, like I turned away and turned my body up side down, and soon will wake up from this fantasy.
My ex came by and we slept next to one another. No "funny business", just talking and a bit of soft petting. At one point he turned away, like he always does right before falling asleep to face the wall. I was still talking, about something 'heavy' that's been on my mind...
Earlier he mentioned that someone he knows is planning to move abroad with the person who he's dating. A 23 year old who lives in Paris. And who has cancer. Survival rate is fifty-fifty...
It just came as such a shock to me... Imagine what that feels like at such a young age... Imagine what the partner must feel like. And it made me wonder, out loud, in bed, what it would be like if I were to have cancer one day...
"The scariest thing is being alone..." I said "It's important to have support..." support, love, care, or just a simple touch from someone who cares, can do wonders. I see it with my mum. But I could feel my ex twitching next to me, and hear his soft breathing. I'm not sure he heard what I said, which was kind of disappointing. He was tired and it was late, so I too turned away from him, and curled up, like I always do, in a foetal position, and tried to sleep.
But it was hard... And for the entire night, even if I'd sleep for a little while I'd wake up feeling so very alone, even though there was someone right next to me. And not just someone, but the one person I thought would make me feel complete and warm. Instead, for a while, I felt so empty, and felt like there was a void that nobody can understand. At one point, I decided to turn my entire body around, to sleep at the foot of the bed. Somehow that helped and I fell asleep for a bit...
But not before a myriad of thoughts went through my mind. Why am I tiring myself, torturing myself with someone who cannot or does not want to give me the depth of love and affection i need? Nothing to do with him, but me...
Why do I feel I need to constantly prove myself worthy of being loved, worthy of his love in particular? Why do I feel like I need to have assurance from my ex, who has told me again and again he doesn't want to be with me (at least not now...)? Why am I the one who seems to be making the moves and who wants to touch and kiss him all over, when he seems to have lost interest? I need to stop. Really need to stop dragging on this limbo that has been continuing for too long. How can I sleep next to him and feel so empty of feeling inside? That's very telling. I too will turn away, like I turned away and turned my body up side down, and soon will wake up from this fantasy.
15 November 2011
another treament
Has it already been two weeks ? Two weeks since the last treatment already?
Mum went into the hospital early, and so my attempts to reach her in the evening were in vain. She was the second patient to arrive at the chemotherapy ward, and so the nurses attended to her quickly. For three hours or so, she dozed while the drugs flowed into her veins. Another treatment, another gruesome few days of tiredness, lethargy, loss of appetite and at times sleeplessness, especially on the first day. It's a painful and repetitive cycle that lasts two weeks... You become weak, slowly, slowly recover your health and your appetite, and before you know it, it is already time to return to that artificial leather arm-chair in the basement of the hospital for another dose of drugs that will make you weak, from which you have to slowly, slowly recover... The only good thing is that mum said she notices the drug she is using now does, at least for a day or two, reduce the soreness and pain in her back and arm.
That must mean the drugs are helping, right...?
That means the cancer cells are dying and the tumour will be reduced, right...?
That means that she will recover and be healthy again, healthy enough to travel and do all the things mum wants to do, right...?
Imagine, a month ago, I was there, standing by her side. A month ago, I saw her cringe and saw the discomfort on her face, in her eyes, in her tear drops... And now where am I? Refuging in the relative comfort of the familiar surroundings of my own life, far, far away... It feels like I'm hiding behind a selfish cloak, escaping the harsh, harsh realities of mum's illness with all the distance and time lag there is between us...
I hear it, the echo of the word "deresponsibilisation", a word a friend has said I'm guilty of doing often when I want to shrug off responsibility for potentially unpleasant consequences (albiet, in other contexts, and not in this particular matter...)
Mum said she lost appetite almost immediately, and when she went for lunch, she ate only half a portion of fried rice. Partly because it was too bland, but partly also because she just could not eat anything anymore. She said she took the rest of the meal home. "For dinner later".
My heart cringed hearing that... one meal, a bit of rice with probably some measly bits of vegetables (and I imagine shrimp, because that's her favourite type of fried rice...), spread over two meals. If I were there, I would rush to the market and buy fresh ingredients and try to fix something that I know will be nutritious and that she can eat. Just the fact that I made the food is enough to 'force' her to eat more than if she were by herself...
Another treatment, another critical few days during which mum will be at her weakest...
May she be well...
Mum went into the hospital early, and so my attempts to reach her in the evening were in vain. She was the second patient to arrive at the chemotherapy ward, and so the nurses attended to her quickly. For three hours or so, she dozed while the drugs flowed into her veins. Another treatment, another gruesome few days of tiredness, lethargy, loss of appetite and at times sleeplessness, especially on the first day. It's a painful and repetitive cycle that lasts two weeks... You become weak, slowly, slowly recover your health and your appetite, and before you know it, it is already time to return to that artificial leather arm-chair in the basement of the hospital for another dose of drugs that will make you weak, from which you have to slowly, slowly recover... The only good thing is that mum said she notices the drug she is using now does, at least for a day or two, reduce the soreness and pain in her back and arm.
That must mean the drugs are helping, right...?
That means the cancer cells are dying and the tumour will be reduced, right...?
That means that she will recover and be healthy again, healthy enough to travel and do all the things mum wants to do, right...?
Imagine, a month ago, I was there, standing by her side. A month ago, I saw her cringe and saw the discomfort on her face, in her eyes, in her tear drops... And now where am I? Refuging in the relative comfort of the familiar surroundings of my own life, far, far away... It feels like I'm hiding behind a selfish cloak, escaping the harsh, harsh realities of mum's illness with all the distance and time lag there is between us...
I hear it, the echo of the word "deresponsibilisation", a word a friend has said I'm guilty of doing often when I want to shrug off responsibility for potentially unpleasant consequences (albiet, in other contexts, and not in this particular matter...)
Mum said she lost appetite almost immediately, and when she went for lunch, she ate only half a portion of fried rice. Partly because it was too bland, but partly also because she just could not eat anything anymore. She said she took the rest of the meal home. "For dinner later".
My heart cringed hearing that... one meal, a bit of rice with probably some measly bits of vegetables (and I imagine shrimp, because that's her favourite type of fried rice...), spread over two meals. If I were there, I would rush to the market and buy fresh ingredients and try to fix something that I know will be nutritious and that she can eat. Just the fact that I made the food is enough to 'force' her to eat more than if she were by herself...
Another treatment, another critical few days during which mum will be at her weakest...
May she be well...
Surprise
Surprises are exciting and fun, especially when you least expect them.
They take time and effort, but when everything comes together, the reward is the ability to touch someone and show them how dearly you care about the person. I love making surprises, and love the warm feeling inside when I make someone very happy... whether it's a surprise for my mum, or for a friend, I love to see the smile (and sometimes tears) on someone's face when they are surprised. It is priceless... it is beautiful....
And in the coming weeks, a number of beautiful surprises are being planned...
They take time and effort, but when everything comes together, the reward is the ability to touch someone and show them how dearly you care about the person. I love making surprises, and love the warm feeling inside when I make someone very happy... whether it's a surprise for my mum, or for a friend, I love to see the smile (and sometimes tears) on someone's face when they are surprised. It is priceless... it is beautiful....
And in the coming weeks, a number of beautiful surprises are being planned...
Crash
In my sleep, I was transported to my aunt's house. There, lying next to me was a high school friend of mine. We lay next to one another, and I asked him a question I never dared ask him, and he told me the answer. The next moment, we were naked and began to touch each other's bodies...
Suddenly, we were separated, and I was out somewhere with two strangers. I believe it was a bookstore, where I was frantically browsing through the shelves looking for a gift for someone. I think it was for my nephew...
Then, I saw a plane take off. It was a large plane, belonging to an airline I often take. Upon take off, the plane plunged head first into the sea. The entire aircraft dived into the water, and broke into several bits. The crash was horrendous, and though I did not see any dead people, I don't think anyone survived...
...who said dreams have to have anything do with one another or make any sense at all?
14 November 2011
Decline
The doctor called my mum "stubborn", and mum responded that it must be due to her "O" blood type (which I also have, so I must be stubborn too...). There was laughter in mum's voice, which told me that she and her doctor were just joking around. As busy as the doctor is, he sometimes does not forget to make a joke a two to cheer his patient up.
The "stubborn" comment came after the doctor mentioned that mum doesn't really follow his recommendations and has been stopping and starting her treatment at will. Which may explain why the tumour has grown bigger, and why her pains and soreness has worsened. Last time, back in June, mum told the doctor she wanted to stop her treatment so she could go travel. At the time, she had been undergoing chemo (and later radiotherapy) for almost six months straight. The tumour was under control, but not completely gone, and the doctor was not too keen on stopping. But stop the treatment she did, and we traveled together...
Now, after all the trips we've made together, after all the wonderful times we shared, mum is back to the same chemotherapy as she had six months ago. Was it worth it? Was it all worth the pain and struggle of going through another couple of weeks, months, of treatment in exchange for realising mum's dream of traveling? I hope so. I sure hope so...
The latest test results reveal the cancer index has dropped by "a dozen points", mum said. I pressed her for a figure. "I'm not going to tell you," she said. But I guessed, and I think I guessed right, and that it should now be somewhere in the 30s. Still high, but at least it has dropped significantly, which means the drugs seem to be working. I was relieved, and I think mum is too.
"Take care, mum," I said as we said goodbye, for now. Even though the cancer index has dropped, there are many more long days and nights ahead...
The "stubborn" comment came after the doctor mentioned that mum doesn't really follow his recommendations and has been stopping and starting her treatment at will. Which may explain why the tumour has grown bigger, and why her pains and soreness has worsened. Last time, back in June, mum told the doctor she wanted to stop her treatment so she could go travel. At the time, she had been undergoing chemo (and later radiotherapy) for almost six months straight. The tumour was under control, but not completely gone, and the doctor was not too keen on stopping. But stop the treatment she did, and we traveled together...
Now, after all the trips we've made together, after all the wonderful times we shared, mum is back to the same chemotherapy as she had six months ago. Was it worth it? Was it all worth the pain and struggle of going through another couple of weeks, months, of treatment in exchange for realising mum's dream of traveling? I hope so. I sure hope so...
The latest test results reveal the cancer index has dropped by "a dozen points", mum said. I pressed her for a figure. "I'm not going to tell you," she said. But I guessed, and I think I guessed right, and that it should now be somewhere in the 30s. Still high, but at least it has dropped significantly, which means the drugs seem to be working. I was relieved, and I think mum is too.
"Take care, mum," I said as we said goodbye, for now. Even though the cancer index has dropped, there are many more long days and nights ahead...
Slippery slope
Somehow, as the day wore on, I felt the frustration creep up...
I went into the office today and felt so exhausted I had to just sit down and take a nap. It was over half an hour later that I woke up and began to work.
My mind was not focused at all, and drifted left and right... To my ex, to the confusing mess we fond ourselves in... Then to my mum, to what she told me earlier today, and to the fact that she is heading into the hospital again for treatment...
Last week, or in fact for the past two weeks, I've enjoyed this strange sense of calm, a calm as if I could not be disturbed or shake by any outside disturbance. And yet today, increasingly I notice my mind going wild and tainted with thoughts and worries again...
I need happy thoughts, happy people, happy distractions....
I went into the office today and felt so exhausted I had to just sit down and take a nap. It was over half an hour later that I woke up and began to work.
My mind was not focused at all, and drifted left and right... To my ex, to the confusing mess we fond ourselves in... Then to my mum, to what she told me earlier today, and to the fact that she is heading into the hospital again for treatment...
Last week, or in fact for the past two weeks, I've enjoyed this strange sense of calm, a calm as if I could not be disturbed or shake by any outside disturbance. And yet today, increasingly I notice my mind going wild and tainted with thoughts and worries again...
I need happy thoughts, happy people, happy distractions....
Progress
For a few days now, I've been merging a number of documents I've written over the last two years. Notes, quotes, odd paragraphs here and there that eventually (hopefully) will all come together and form a coherent argument, and eventually, the body of my thesis. I hope to have a draft done by this week, so I can show it to my supervisor and get some feedback before submitting the final version. I do feel like I'm finally progressing somewhere...
Speaking to mum earlier today, she said she spoke to my uncle, and it was getting hard to make out what he was saying. His tumour is growing on the lymph gland on the neck, so if the cancer is progressing, it will affect his speech. My cousin asked my mum to talk to my uncle, to try and persuade him to return to the treatment. But mum confided in me how difficult it is for her to do that. For one thing, she herself is undergoing treatment, and she knows fully what chemotherapy can do to the spirit and body of a person... "If he has chosen to stop the treatment, then we must respect that..."
I do wonder how my uncle is feeling right now... Is he afraid? Is he filled with dread and perhaps even regret, fear or perhaps even anger? I wrote to him sometime ago, tried to encourage him, and hoped he can "see beyond" life, "see beyond" death. It is all very easy to write about, but when it comes down to facing death who will have no fear...?
Speaking to mum earlier today, she said she spoke to my uncle, and it was getting hard to make out what he was saying. His tumour is growing on the lymph gland on the neck, so if the cancer is progressing, it will affect his speech. My cousin asked my mum to talk to my uncle, to try and persuade him to return to the treatment. But mum confided in me how difficult it is for her to do that. For one thing, she herself is undergoing treatment, and she knows fully what chemotherapy can do to the spirit and body of a person... "If he has chosen to stop the treatment, then we must respect that..."
I do wonder how my uncle is feeling right now... Is he afraid? Is he filled with dread and perhaps even regret, fear or perhaps even anger? I wrote to him sometime ago, tried to encourage him, and hoped he can "see beyond" life, "see beyond" death. It is all very easy to write about, but when it comes down to facing death who will have no fear...?
13 November 2011
With time
My friend (the ex) and I spent almost the entire weekend together. Friday night, he came over to my place to have
dinner and watch a bit of tv. We had lovely evening overall, just
chatting, like we used to before, something I think both of us
thoroughly enjoy. In these moments when we are next to one another,
talking about our lives, laughing and joking, reminiscing and thinking
back to good old times together, it felt like there was no one else in
the world but just he and me.
At one point, we talked about our futures... What we'd like to accomplish, what plans we have when we have stable jobs and settle down. Funny thing was, I never realised that he had a dream of one day owning a B&B somewhere, most likely after retirement, just to have something meaningful to do. It is also a big dream I've had, especially when I was younger I stayed at various B&Bs with mum on our travels, and have always had this romantic notion of welcoming travellers from far away and making them feel at ease and at home.
To be honest, I don't know whether he was talking about his future, or our future together, because at times it seemed ambiguous. For me at least, for some time, perhaps since we officially became an item, or perhaps even long before that, I had dreamed and fantasised about building something with him... Little steps, living together, getting a house together, having children and pets... Fantasies of an over imaginative daydreamer, perhaps, but I've thought about it often, and at times think of it still.
But I sometimes have to remind myself, we are no longer together, and all this could be just idle talk and, as beautiful and wonderful as it all may sound and appear, may never be realised...
Overall we had a wonderful weekend together, though here and there tensions would flare (at least I sense it, or perhaps even cause it...) when I see him eagerly eyeing his phone and tapping away ( to I presume is his friend). At some instances, he excused himself to go chat with his friend, and I was left there feeling abandoned and somewhat insulted... It felt as hurtful as when, about a year ago, he came to my place for dinner, and at one point locked himself before closed doors to videochat with the person he has a love interest in.
Again, the feelings of confusion and awkwardness returned. He tells he again and again he loves me, and cannot let me go. He assures me that nothing will develop with the other person because of various reasons, one of which is because my ex's love for me is so strong... He tells me to be patient, to give him time and that one day he'll return to me one hundred percent... But right in front of me, with his calls and exchanges of messages, he hurts me and disappoints me time and again.
It makes me wonder why is my ex with me now? Why is he spending so much time with me, why is he talking to me so much? Is it because he feels pity for me to have left me and somehow wants to make sure I'm alright? If he has such a great time with his friend, why doesn't he go spend time with him, instead of be so intimate with me?
Spending so much time together, at times I'm unable to resist the temptation of touching his body, holding his hand... It just makes me sad and disturbed to feel that perhaps I'm just deluding myself again and again that there is something there still between us. It just makes me doubt myself, doubt whether I'm hurting myself by spending so much time with my ex, especially when I see him so eager and so often checking his phone for messages (from his friend, I know), and trying very poorly to hide it from me.
I told him at the end of the night, he can sleep next to me, only because he wants to, not because he feels like he has to. Sleep next to me because he wants to be with me at that moment, and not because I'm readily available there and then, or (worse) because he has no other choice that night.
I know it sounds so harsh of me to think that or to even say that. But somehow we have come to the point I'm made to feel that way, despite a lot of assurances from my ex that he still loves me, that he still dreams of a future with me... Who am I really to him...?
I hope I'm worth more than just someone he can turn to for intimate hugs and touches, more than someone with whom (he says) he can sleep so beautifully next to. I do hope our history together, and regardless of whether we have a future together, is more than just a comfortable and convenient arrangement, and that deep down inside there is really something true, something real, for both of us, and not just for one of us.
But am I being so foolish to continue allow myself to melt in his arms, too weak to continue to be swooned by the touch of his body and to find comfort and warmth lying next to him... or do I just move on? How much do I want to be with him? How much is it wait the wait or the hope of some kind of future together...? I could easily just gradually, gradually cut reduce contact with him, and the feelings will hopefully fade with time.
With time, everything fades... right?
At one point, we talked about our futures... What we'd like to accomplish, what plans we have when we have stable jobs and settle down. Funny thing was, I never realised that he had a dream of one day owning a B&B somewhere, most likely after retirement, just to have something meaningful to do. It is also a big dream I've had, especially when I was younger I stayed at various B&Bs with mum on our travels, and have always had this romantic notion of welcoming travellers from far away and making them feel at ease and at home.
To be honest, I don't know whether he was talking about his future, or our future together, because at times it seemed ambiguous. For me at least, for some time, perhaps since we officially became an item, or perhaps even long before that, I had dreamed and fantasised about building something with him... Little steps, living together, getting a house together, having children and pets... Fantasies of an over imaginative daydreamer, perhaps, but I've thought about it often, and at times think of it still.
But I sometimes have to remind myself, we are no longer together, and all this could be just idle talk and, as beautiful and wonderful as it all may sound and appear, may never be realised...
Overall we had a wonderful weekend together, though here and there tensions would flare (at least I sense it, or perhaps even cause it...) when I see him eagerly eyeing his phone and tapping away ( to I presume is his friend). At some instances, he excused himself to go chat with his friend, and I was left there feeling abandoned and somewhat insulted... It felt as hurtful as when, about a year ago, he came to my place for dinner, and at one point locked himself before closed doors to videochat with the person he has a love interest in.
Again, the feelings of confusion and awkwardness returned. He tells he again and again he loves me, and cannot let me go. He assures me that nothing will develop with the other person because of various reasons, one of which is because my ex's love for me is so strong... He tells me to be patient, to give him time and that one day he'll return to me one hundred percent... But right in front of me, with his calls and exchanges of messages, he hurts me and disappoints me time and again.
It makes me wonder why is my ex with me now? Why is he spending so much time with me, why is he talking to me so much? Is it because he feels pity for me to have left me and somehow wants to make sure I'm alright? If he has such a great time with his friend, why doesn't he go spend time with him, instead of be so intimate with me?
Spending so much time together, at times I'm unable to resist the temptation of touching his body, holding his hand... It just makes me sad and disturbed to feel that perhaps I'm just deluding myself again and again that there is something there still between us. It just makes me doubt myself, doubt whether I'm hurting myself by spending so much time with my ex, especially when I see him so eager and so often checking his phone for messages (from his friend, I know), and trying very poorly to hide it from me.
I told him at the end of the night, he can sleep next to me, only because he wants to, not because he feels like he has to. Sleep next to me because he wants to be with me at that moment, and not because I'm readily available there and then, or (worse) because he has no other choice that night.
I know it sounds so harsh of me to think that or to even say that. But somehow we have come to the point I'm made to feel that way, despite a lot of assurances from my ex that he still loves me, that he still dreams of a future with me... Who am I really to him...?
I hope I'm worth more than just someone he can turn to for intimate hugs and touches, more than someone with whom (he says) he can sleep so beautifully next to. I do hope our history together, and regardless of whether we have a future together, is more than just a comfortable and convenient arrangement, and that deep down inside there is really something true, something real, for both of us, and not just for one of us.
But am I being so foolish to continue allow myself to melt in his arms, too weak to continue to be swooned by the touch of his body and to find comfort and warmth lying next to him... or do I just move on? How much do I want to be with him? How much is it wait the wait or the hope of some kind of future together...? I could easily just gradually, gradually cut reduce contact with him, and the feelings will hopefully fade with time.
With time, everything fades... right?
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