Crying

I told him what would happen when I hang up the phone.
 And it happened. I cried almost immediately, am crying now, and cannot stop....

For the second (or third?) day in a row, my ex called to check up on me. I was just getting home, didn't even have the time to put down my bag when the music in my earphones (these days I always have earphones on, to drown out the thoughts and frightening emptiness...) suddenly stopped and the ringingtone of my phone sounded. We chatted, but as always, most of the conversation was about me... (how selfish I have become indeed...)

The whole day again, I felt oppressive inside, a feeling that has not subsided even after outbursts of tears over the past few days. Oppressive and also having stomach cramps again, a sign that I am feeling very agitated and stressed... Being at the office and having to hide how I am feeling, having to put on a smile and pretend all is well is sickening, is exhausting...

After half an hour or so on the phone, my ex said he was falling asleep and wanted to go sleep. He needed to get up early in the morning, but I felt unease hanging up the phone. How selfish I was wanting to hear his voice on the phone just that little bit longer so that I can  feel lonely that little bit less? What a mess I have become to be trembling on the phone and biting my nails till they are bleeding...

Who am I to take his time? He is doing me a favour, out of good will and concern for my wellbeing in calling me, so how could I hog his time and say crazy, incomprehensible things that will sure cause him worry and probably sleeplessness?

He tried to get me to see the lighter side of things. Today in the mail I got the result of an exam I took back in January  (looking back, I went through similar pangs of anxiety, self-doubt and emotional outbursts...). I passed. I read the letter, and then put it away. My ex told me to smile, to be proud of myself and to congratulate myself that through all adversity, I still passed.

But I felt empty. What did that exam mean? What does anything mean anything anymore?
An exam won't change the world... a pass will not change my world or how I feel inside.
How I feel so empty, lonely, so very lacking in love and warmth inside...

Should I have told him? Told someone who was my everything, told someone who broke my heart and shattered my dreams how lonely I am? Should I have told him that what I most long for these days is to be loved and to love? Perhaps it is completely unfair, completely selfish of me to tell him my innermost emotions.Why him of all people? So he could understand? So I can get to feel some semblance of the care and love he gave me so long ago to make myself feel a little better? I must remind myself again and again to hold back, to resist falling back into his care again, however well intentioned he is... Because I am vulnerable, I cannot stand to be hurt and disappointed again. I have a tendency to trust too easily and to make-believe that someone cares and loves me in the same way that I do him.

But it is painful and so very difficult maintaining all these walls, especially before someone with whom you could let it all down and reveal yourself completely, emotionally and physically completely.

And perhaps this is why, after several weeks of pretending of make-believing that I am getting better, when things take a turn for the worse, I am breaking down so easily... I am longing for company and love again like never before... I am clinging onto whatever semblance of care and compassion I used to know, despite the fact that circumstances have dramatically changed and that someone has already moved on and let me go...

I am still stuck in the past, dreaming and clinging onto the dream I dreamed, clinging onto the comfort  and warmth I opened myself to relish in and enjoy, when so much has happened... when pain and death and the trauma of loss and turbulence of bereavement is spinning me around and around and making me lose control of it all...

Relational

The self is relational. Who you are or who you perceive yourself to be is in relation to others... Friend, partner, loved one, family... How you interact with them is who you are at that moment.

Why do you speak so softly to some but so angrily with another? Anger and softness it's all within you. What have thee person done or not done to deserve anger or rage? And "done is done", is it not, is it not in the past? So why not be kind to yourself and to the person around you and be kind to all, regardless of what happened before?

The meditation teacher spoke of his battle against leukemia, how the doctor told him he had ten days to leave. Imagine the fear, the desperation and anxiety... Imagine family and friends coming to see you one by one and having to bid farewell to them... And most difficult of all, having to tell his eleven year old that despite the dying body, a father's love for the boy will not die. Ever. That is the stuff of life. That is real struggle with loss and coping with fear and anxiety...

When you hear and look at the lives and struggles of others, do you not feel more fortunate? Do you not feel like you cry about nothing and allow yourself to wallow too deeply in remorse and a world of pain and suffering of your own creation?

Not to trivialise at all my own hurt, my own pain and suffering now, which somehow has unleashed the locked away demons of the past/my childhood. Funny how hurt and pain can reach so deep and so pervasively inside of you that everything comes out... They have thrown me into the throes of doubt, self-criticism, anxiety, depression and negativity. They have undermined and overshadowed all the goodness I have within me, all the kindness I have shown to others, and left me feeling useless and worthless.
It is an ugly mindset I must free myself...

For how else will I feel loved? How else will another love me? How else will I love again...?

At YUL

At the airport, ready to board another flight. Same day return, to Toronto and back later tonight. Second time in three days.

I'm exhausted. Went to bed at four, but could not really sleep till five, and had to get up an hour or so later. My head is a daze, and I'm feeling slow and heavy.

Strange... I have an exam, yet now and then I experience flashes of doubt and anger. Even as I was studying, images and thoughts appeared before me... How can my best friend, someone who keeps on telling me how much he loves me, "abandon" me at a period when I need someone to confide in most? How could this all happen to me in the past two years when I've had to struggle the most against the odds of life and mum's illness and death? Is it all worth it when you end up with nothing? Is it worth it when you jeopardise years of friendship for... What? I don't think anyone realises how much damage, how traumatic it has been for me. I don't think anyone can see how damaged and paining I am right now. Why am I letting myself be so bothered and so angered by it all? It's all in my mind... All in my mind...

Am I going to write an exam in this state of mind? Am I going to scrape enough points to pass? All I need and want is a pass... Eight more hours and all this will be over. For this time around.

Wandering thoughts

This was supposed to be a trip to remember my mother, and in some ways my father... to remember the way they were, how kind and compassionate they were, how they gave me so much and asked for so little in return... It was supposed to a trip and time alone to figure out how to go on now that they are gone, and now that I am all alone. (Yes, I have a brother... But I get so little from him, and will only hear from him if I call... And my messages, telling him what I'm doing and how I'm feeling are almost always answered with: "Ok".)

I've thought of mum, and on occasion of dad too... I've been carrying with me two pictures of them, taking them from site to site, and finally parted with them at the Bodhi tree in Bodh Gaya where the Buddha became enlightened... In my little shoulder bag, I have a picture of mum, taken on brother's engagement day, and every time I come across a sacred site, I would take that picture out and sit it on the beautiful white teddy bear mum bought me last year. She said to me then: "This bear will be with you when I'm no longer around..." And that's true... The bear is a reminder of her, and I often fall sleep hugging it, sometimes with tears in my eyes...

This trip is supposed to be about remembering my parents, and finding myself... Yet, I find myself thinking of my ex... thinking of what we had, what could have been, and what broken relationship we seem to have now within such a short period of time... Is it really just me, as he seems to have suggested so many times over the past few months? Have I really changed so much that I'm so unbearable and unlovable? How can I not change having lost my mother and remaining parent? Have I really become such a terrible person after emerging from perhaps the greatest trauma of my life to date, so terrible that I get the impression from him that i only bring him grief and misery?

This time, this trip, alone is partly to get away, and to give my ex some distance from me, because increasingly I feel he's so tired of me. Yet At times, even while visiting so of the sacred sites, I find my mind remembering the wonderful moments, precious little intimate moments we once shared, and also remembering some of the mean and hurtful words that were exchanged. i find myself thinking about how he's doing, what he's doing. And I wonder, does he even think of me at all?

I do think of him fondly, miss him, sometimes even imagining how it would if he were here with me. I've written so many emails and notes over the last month or so telling him how I feel about us, our impasse, I made little surprise gifts and appearances for his birthday, and there's been very little reaction.

Is he doing this to spite me, to get his own back because I was gone and ignored his messages and calls for much of the start of of this year? I find myself, despite being in such peaceful surroundings, thinking and wondering: what is wrong with me...? Perhaps he's feeling free and uninhibited to do whatever, be with whomever while I'm not around, and yet I think of him so much, and carry with me his beloved teddy bear everywhere I go... Why am I using so much energy on my ex, when it is my parents I should be thinking of and remembering on this special journey?

here and there I am reminded of Buddha's words:

"They do not brood over the past,
They do not hanker after the future,
They live upon whatever they receive
Therefore they are radiant.”

What am I doing, but brooding over the past and longing for a distant, dream-like future? Why am I thinking about someone who is so far away, and who seems to grow more and more distant from me?

At this moment, I feel deeply the pain of loss and loneliness, especially when my body feels so wretched from illness and the nauseating effects of malaria pills I have to take for at least two weeks...

Cleansing

I have moments when I saw myself from afar: eyes tired from lack of sleep, my face heavy with thoughts and worries, my body weak and slouching from fatigue and longing... Yes, I am exhausted, smiling still because I always manage to, but mentally and physically drained and frustrated.

Who could I turn to and talk about this without feeling like I'm burdening the person? My ex, my former confidante and rock who has been around for so long, seems to be caught in his own fatigue and emotional issues that these days feel i have much difficulty in talking to him. Other than the nagging and unanswered questions of whether he still care and whether he really wants to listen to me lament about how I'm feeling after long hard days at work, I know myself to be truly strong, and to truly get to the bottom of my problems, I must turn to myself for help.

I am trying. Trying I really am to take time out to travel. Or at least that is the plan. I've been wanting to go to India for a while now, and I remember so many moments when mum slowly declined, I said to myself, and on occasion to her, I'll go to India one day when all is over.

And now all is over, and I should live up to my promise-- to myself to and to mum.

But plans change, and nothing ever goes according to plan. Despite having booked a ticket almost a month ago, increasingly I've encountered obstacles on my way to leave... Visa problems, time issues, work still to be done, preparations I should do for a trip into an unknown land that does not have a reputation for being safe or hygienic...I've had to cancel my tickets today because first of all, the notices the price I paid is exorbitant compared to how much I only have to pay now, barely two weeks before my intended departure. And it may have been worth it if I were flying on the latest Dreamliner for part of my journey... But even that is not happening because of delays in delivery the new plane...
So after weeks of wrangling, searching and finally sitting down to buy a ticket, I'll need to start all over again...

I am frustrated, feeling pressed for time, feeling pressure from work, and generally feeling like a failure because things are not as simple and as easy as I thought or planned. Why is it that other people can just book a flight and just depart so easily, whereas I'm wondering about the ifs and whens or hows?

Well, all I can say is life is always changing, and I am experiencing it fully, whether I like it or not...

N

Feud

I exploded on my brother. The frustration and anger has been building up for some time, for weeks, and exacerbated over the past few days. Tensions originating from different temperaments and different approaches to things. Who is to say who is wrong or right? Nobody can say that. But what I dislike and what irritates me most of all is the way my brother commands and bosses people around the house. And I made that very clear to him.

We argued back and forth for ten minutes or so. The baby suddenly began crying, and did not stop for quite some time. He even got out of bed by himself and opened the bedroom door, crying, to see what was going on.  Later, when the mood calmed down, I joked that my nephew was upset by his dad and his uncle arguing.

I told my brother very frankly how I don't appreciate his attitude and his way of bossing people around from the very first thing in the morning. He accused me of not doing anything, of just sitting around and (figuratively) folding my arms and letting him deal with all these things that need to be taken care of. I really fail to see what still needs to be done that we have not yet done, yet my brother has the impression there are still so many unfinished business to be taken care of.

"Even mum never treated me like this when she was still alive..." I said. There, I finally said what I wanted to say. "Your behaving a lot like dad..." That made him become quiet. I hate to bring dad up, and I know it's disrespectful toward him, but really growing up a lot of tensions at home was caused by dad having a bad temper and telling mum to do this and do that. Very much like what my brother is doing now... And I hate to see a repeat of this in his family, and seeing it affect his marriage and my nephew's childhood. Because I know how unhealthy it is to grow up in a family where there is someone who's moods can change like the weather and bring everyone suddenly down...

We soon "made up". Really, there was no hatred harboured, just things I needed to get off my chest. And I think my brother heard what I said, and he too toned down a bit too. Sometimes all you need is  a bit of communication to clear any misunderstandings. And maybe I was upset, and yes I brought up mum and dad with the belief that mentioning them may have more influence on my brother, but I am glad that at least one thing is off my chest, and I sure do hope my brother can change a bit for the better.

Visit

My ex called to say he booked his ticket to come visit. This time two days from now, he will be here, most likely lying next to me. That is wonderful, and I feel I need someone close I could talk to.

We had a tense discussion about when is the best time to visit. I preferred him to arrive just before the funeral, which is next Friday, but he says if he does that, he can stay a maximum of four days. He wasn't "comfortable" to fly so long and fly so far to stay that short a time. Best for him is to come now, and leave right after the funeral. And that's what he's doing.

I appreciate him coming all this way for me, and I know with his work schedule he's hemmed in for time. but I have some little reservations about visiting at this time. Aside from the confusion and things unsaid between us, I still feel confused why he would come all this way to see me and be with me. What are we to one another? I guess I just want to know, need to know, before I can fully open myself up to him again, like I used to do so uninhibitedly. And I'm afraid to just open myself up and make myself vulnerable and delude myself there is something there between us more than just friends, when he is still caught in a tangled love affair that has not yet ended.

Other than this, I feel so unprepared for the funeral for a number of reasons. I really have no idea what will be happening next week in the run up to the funeral itself. And I haven't even really mourned or let mum's passing affect me too much. I have difficulty with the fact I've not even cried at all. And when I worship mum and offer her food, I feel I do it so hastily and half-heartfelt. I've not even had the opportunity or time to make her a proper meal, which I did for dad every day, twice a day, back when he passed away... It is as if mum's death doesnt bother me at all. And that's disturbing...

I think need the time to really cry, really mourn, and I feel (fear?) my ex's visit might just delay that expression of emotions (or maybe will do the exact opposite?). I know when he is around I will really want to entertain him, and make him feel welcome, but I'm afraid I won't be able to do that properly if I'm busy attending to arrangements and dealing with things as they happen...

Or maybe as a friend said to me, just let him come to the funeral. The rest can be the rest...

Weekend together again

A beautiful day of biking with my ex, visiting the little town of Niagara on the Lake, where we had been together some three years ago. A wonderful bike ride, reliving many past moments we shared enjoying the freedom of cycling, and freedom from all sorts of stresses, tensions, unpleasantness and events and occurrences out of our control.

Came back to the hotel room. "I need to make a phone call." to the boyfriend. He told me to take a shower and wait for him to return.

How bizarre I felt, and I turned silent. I felt cheap, like a mistress on the side. That is who I am, right, as to my surprise my ex's boyfriend has no idea of where he is and who he is with. A most unfortunate set of circumstances, but who am I to judge? I told him so many times to talk to his boyfriend, to tell him the truth, but there's always something in the way, always a reason to delay telling the truth, always a reason to play with two people and toy with emotions.

What is so difficult, I wonder? He tells me he has never loved anyone like he does (or did?) me, so what is stopping him from ending a relationship that seems to be going nowhere? Comfort, "fun", not willing to break the other guy's heart? Or is the boyfriend just an escape, a distraction away from his new and apparently difficult working life in a big city where he knows no one?

Problems unsolved will only get worse and worse. My friends pity my ex's boyfriend, who seems to know nothing and seems to be in for a terrible heartbreak, who has no idea that my ex has been so lost and confused without me. Nobody pities my ex, because frankly he got himself into this situation, and he should have dealt with things long ago. He should have dealt with things and stopped pretending to have a relationship when he realised how he cannot seem to be without me in his life.

One last chance, one last opportunity for my ex to explain himself, for some clarification, because I owe him that much, and our special bond deserves that much. And then it's make or break.

Because I do not need this kind of mess in my life, I do not need old memories and uncertainties to drag me down and depress me. I need to liberate myself from feeling like an "aside", like just a thing to be toyed with.

I deserve much much more.

Tears of sadness

I cried, really cried for the first time since I left home. My friends had to hold me and comfort me, but the tears could not stop flowing.

"It's ok, let it out. You'll feel better..." I felt somewhat better after crying and after drinking myself silly. I've never done anything like it, but my friends insisted I go out and drink, let the hurt and pain, sorrow and sense of betrayal be drowned by glasses of sangria. I did not go home. I was scared to go home. I slept at a friend's place, but only for an hour or two before suddenly being 'shocked' awake. And I lay in bed for hours, with thoughts rushing through my mind...

I found out the truth of why my ex was not in NYC this weekend. Whether he did or did not go to much lengths to try and find a way to get there and see me is another matter. But what is telling is that he spent the weekend here with friends and with his boyfriend.

Yes, contrary to what I have believed or wanted to believe, my ex is still together with the guy. Amazing, three months after my ex wrote to me pouring out his feelings for me, and telling me he'd "deal" his his situation, he's still not dealt with it. He wanted to wait for an opportune time, explaining that he did not want to give his boyfriend pressure while he's doing his finals. Valid excuse. But was there no opportune moment over the course o three months? Or was the will to break up simply not there, and my ex was saying to me all these things just to "get to me"? Deep down, only he knows the truth, only he must sleep at night with a conscience. I don't know what to believe anymore when he tells me things.

Most painful of all, as I heard from my friends, all the time I have been away, my ex has been walking around with his boyfriend as if it were the most normal thing. I was replaced, and his boyfriend brought into our circle of friends. Everyone found it bizarre, dishonest, and questioned my ex how he could put on this charade of a relationship, make the other person believe there is something meaningful there, whereas all the time my ex tried and tried to reach me and to declare his true feelings for me. Oh, people know. They it's such a joke what my ex has been up to, such immaturity of trying to hide things and pretend things are alright, when deep down there are so many uncomfortable things unsaid. And they pity the other person, who is much younger and seems to have no idea my ex is playing two people's hearts at the same time and seemingly enjoying it in the mean time.

Nobody can know what my ex is feeling, why he does the things he does. And god knows he is torn and breaking up deep inside. But really a lot of it is his own doing. Letting things drag on and on and not wanting to deal with issues, and with time things get worse, feelings are intensified, and the hurt is much deeper.

My ex and I exchanged a number of text messages. I told him how much it hurts to find out he slept with me, kissed me so passionately (like never before...) and yet he's still with his boyfriend. How could he sleep at night, I asked him. How can he hurt me like this, knowing all difficult, difficult issues of death and illness I've had to face and am still facing surrounding my mum's condition? I said I'm already so vulnerable right now, and finding out how he's not been completely honest with me, and even slept with me the night after he was with another guy, made me feel so sick.

He hit back at me. He said it was tiring how I "rub in death and illness" to make me seem like the victim, to make it seem like I need sympathy. That just wounded me so terribly. Because he really has no idea how it is to be faced with death and illness. I wasn't dropping those words as a soundbite for dramatic effects. He has no idea, nobody has any idea until there're faced with losing someone they lose imminently how pervasive the sadness, depression and suicidal tendencies are. He has no idea how there have been various moments I just feel so tempted to injure myself, cut myself or jump in front of a moving bus. Anything, anything to numb the physical and psychological torment...

He lamented how I've treated him poorly ignoring his attempts to reach me for months. And how I seem to have no sense of self-criticism over my behaviour in the past few months.Where was it all coming from? Perhaps in my lack of self-criticism, I am overseeing what I have done so wrong...
True, I admit it, I avoided contact with all the rest of my friends and ignored my ex especially. I just was so tired I from everything I could not muster the energy to pick up the phone and just call me, just start telling people how I'm doing or what I'm facing. And why did I not want to talk to my ex? Because everytime he would just break down and cry. I was/am already hurting, struggling to cope with new and ever evolving circumstances, trying so hard not to cry, but he cries... And it was just so bizzare to hear him cry, when he has everything he wants: the boy he has been after for almost a year, a job (albeit with strange and somewhat elitist colleagues), and a nice apartment in downtown Toronto. He has his health, his parents seem to be alright... and yet for some reason he is not happy.
He told me in all the time I ignored him and refused to pick up the calls, he became so severely depressed and emotional, to the extent it affects his ability to work.

So it is/was all my fault? Admittedly, my fault to separate and distance myself from him, to isolate and insulate myself from his world so he can go and discover what it is he really wants in life. But is it my fault he harbours such strong emotions for me, is it my fault that he chose to be with someone but then realise, or perhaps has even known all the time, that it would not work out? Is it my fault that I shy away and try to focus on my mum, my priority at this critical juncture of her life, and that I simply do not wish to be distracted? Distracted by his attempts to woo me again, distracted by his declarations of feelings for me and seeing and being told by mutual friends that he is doing completely the opposite of what he says he feels for me. I do not need this, any of this...

And to lament me for ignoring other friends, to speak on their behalf and say how sick my behaviour has been over the past few months? how do you just pick up the phone and start ranting, lamenting, crying even about mum's condition? It's not me, I'm not some weak young kid, I can handle things, I can take it, and there really is no need for me to talk to people if I don't want to. How come everyone of my friends could understand but my ex? How come they could understand I need space and time to deal with mum's situation, but only my ex wanted to constantly be updated on news and developments? I told him in so many e-mails why I don't want to talk to him. How can I keep on bothering him when he's starting a relationship,when he told me frankly to move on?

He lamented me for not being there for when he had such "torturous" few months. And he said I never asked about how he was doing or cared about how depressed he became.

None of the exchanges led to anywhere constructive. one thing ks written, and it is responded with a rebuttal whatever was said or dragged out of the past. It was ugly, creating more tensions, and so destructive...

I was so tired. And I am sure he is so tired too of me, of the same old issues that remain unresolved five months on. Is the problem with me? Is it really with me? I don't know, I really don't know. He throws back things at me, accusing me  of this and that, which is really just very off putting. I thought I was  ready to move on, ready to perhaps talk things through and try to see where we can go from here, but he's still clinging, clinging onto the other boy, refusing to let go, and it seems lamenting me for the great misfortunes of his life over the past few months.

How did we come to this? I thought there was something special there. I thought he truly loved me, at least he said so. But why is it so complicated? It doesn't, shouldn't have to be this way...

Perhaps I should heed the warning others gave me: beware of how manipulative he is, and beware of how soft-hearted I can be...

Dream

02052012.0826

There were a bunch of text messages from my ex, which I did not read or reply to. He sent them over the span of several days, the latest of which was one in which he complained of how difficult a time he is having, how hard he finds going from day to day.

This final one I wrote backj to. I felt upset. Why was he appealing to me for help? Why me of all people? Do I not have enough things I must deal with that are really a matter of life an death?

"And who's the one with the boyfriend???? You think you have it tough?!"

I woke up from my dream.

It was so real, so contextual, the words so close to what I want to say to my ex it could have been real.

But it was just a dream...

Sleeplessness

Terrible night, been up since 1am, and only managed to sleep for two hours or so. Don't know why I can't sleep, even though I have a horrible headache.

I lie in bed and try to sleep, but thoughts, and a heavy sense of sadness keeps me awake.

"Seven more days..."

"What will happen...?"

"Will I fly away as planned?"

"Will mum be able to return home before I leave...?"

The birds are singing already. Another new day begins, but my night has not yet ended...

Musings on a rainy night

Just finished my studying for the night, and the time is a little past one in the morning. Rain is dropping and falling outside, splashing against the window with a melancholic echo. It has not stopped raining for two days...

For the last few days, since mum hired a 24hr carer to stay with her at the hospital, I have been visiting mum significantly less than before. Two hours, perhaps two and a half hours at most, in the evenings, when  I would go and have dinner with her. The rest of the day, I'm at home, studying, or trying to study, and trying to fight off wandering thoughts and fatigue.


I went to the hospital with brother in the evening. I was so lost as what to bring mum, and I really want to cook her something healthy. But she keeps on insisting that her carer will buy food from outside, and that the carer will know what to eat. Even so, I feel kind of guilty, as if I am "neglecting my duties"-- duties I have been shouldering for the past four months almost...

The other day, I brought mum some fish soup and little fish spawn, which are rich in protein. From that, a congee was made, and I served it warm to her for dinner. She gagged and vomited some stomach fluids upon smelling the fishy smell. My brother sat there and complained that I am feeding her things that make her vomit. I retorted: "Well, you cook for her then!"

There has been simmering tensions for a couple of days. While I'm busy studying, I still have to wonder what to bring mum to eat, what to cook for her, and worried about her wellbeing, whereas my brother watches tv all day, and visits mum for not more hours than I do. And mum has complained to me in private that when he visits, he sits there and plays his little games on his phone or touch-pad. Maybe that is his way of showing how he cares...

The other day, mum expressed her frustrations to me. It has been two weeks since my brother and his family returned home. I can count the days, perhaps even the hours, they have been to the hospital. To be fair, they were struck down by a bad cold last week. But since then, my sister-in-law and my nephew have been away in another part of the country, whereas brother is here, but hasn't really done much. In fact, the first week they were back, I hardly felt any difference, for I still had to stay at the hospital every single night until three days ago. And to think, before they arrived, I was consciously telling myself to "step back" and let them take over! To think, there are moments when I am so tempted to do something for mum, but just wait and wait to see whether my brother will notice that she needs help...

There is a reason behind my outburst at my brother earlier on. There is one thing he does well, and that is to sit there and talk about what should be done, but he does not seem able to raise a finger. I told him on several occasions since his return that after I am gone, it is up to him (and his wife) to care for mum, and to make sure that she eats well. "I don't know how to cook...", he says, "I don't know what to do and how to take care of her..."

"Well, learn!" I tell him, "How do you think I coped over the last couple of months?" Not to mention over the past three, four years everyt ime I was back here. Of course, mum's condition is much worse than before now, much worse than ever before, but still there are basic things he can do to make mum feel cared for, make her feel appreciated, and make her feel like his presence makes a difference. And I asked him rhetorically, "How can you two not manage to do what I managed to do on my own here in the past few months?"

I know I should not judge other people's standards with my own. But really, how difficult is it to go visit mum at the hospital, to talk to her, perhaps have a happy conversation about happy things? Why is it so hard to see when mum is in pain or discomfort and to massage her feet and arms whenever she scrunches up her face or groans? Again, I cannot judge my brother (or sister-in-law) for what they do (or do not do...), for as someone said to me (and without wanting to toot my own horn....), it is hard to live up to what I do for mum. But I just wish there were more interaction between my brother and mum. I just wish brother would take more initiative at doing something, instead of just sitting there, watching TV or playing games on his phone (admittedly, I did that too sometimes when I was at the hospital for long, long hours...).

No wonder mum is getting frustrated. She told me frankly the other day she needs rest and a peaceful environment to recover after she returns home. What she does not need to deal with is tensions or having to deal with bad attitude. And since what happened in Europe when she visited last year, she has been utterly disappointed and disheartened by my brother and his wife. So she already has preconceptions about what their presence here can bring, and she is not really enthusiastic about them staying here for the next two months or so. In fact, I have repeatedly tried to tell her not to have any predjudices against them, for what has gone by in the past is in the past. I have repeatedly tried to put in a good word for them and told mum they genuinely want to spend some quality time with her and do "something" for her, and I told her the importance of giving them a chance to prove themselves, before it is "too late". But mum seems unpersuaded. And my brother's behaviour (and sister-in-law's absence) since their return does nothing to improve mum's impression of them.

Ten more days, and I will be leaving. It is scary, and very sad, to think about that... Ten more days. How long I have been here already! How slow the days and minutes seemed to pass at times, but it is now already four months since my arrival, and I am soon to leave here. What is there still to do for me? What is there still for me do organise, to plan, to put into place before I leave?

I'm not sure how things will be without me here, but it will just have to be. Have I not done enough? Are my brother and sister-in-law not older than me, both by four years, are they not parents already? They should know best how to take care of someone, and how to be attentive to the needs of someone under their care.

I just hope that when I am gone, they will all manage to find a way to coexist, and that my brother and his wife will both find a meaningful role to play in the crucial stage of mum's recovery at home. I just hope that, as I imagined it, as I dreamed and hoped for, that this big effort to bring everyone together will not be ruined or soured by conflicts, tensions and frustrations.

For what a shame, a terrible, terrible regret it would be if perhaps the last long period of time mum has together with my brother and his family were to be marred by arguments and misunderstandings, or worse, them leaving here in a huff...

Exhausted

Mum said she wanted to sit on the chair for a bit while she had a late dinner. I took the opportunity to lie down in her bed. Quietly, softly in my heart, I "blessed" the bed and hoped that it will allow mum to rest well, and to recover so that she can leave the hospital. Unknowingly, I fell asleep...

It was half past ten when I woke up again. I fell asleep even though I just wanted to take a little nap before hitting the books. Mum didn't wake me up because she saw how tired I was. But I don't think I was tired, at least not physically, for much of the day when I went home to rest that's what I did: I rested, in bed, drifted in and out of sleep, watching reruns of my favourite sitcom online (Will and Grace) or listening to the radio. So lethargic I have become, just lying there in bed watching a comedy or listening to talk shows and drifting in and out of sleep...

I am tired and frustrated. And I am sure mum is too. After getting our hopes up to head home (and I even began taking a suitcase of things home this morning...) the doctor came back and said mum's latest blood result revealed a below average red blood cell count, and an elevated bile level. The former can be fixed with better nutrition and the 500cc of blood transfusion, but the latter is trickier. There may be a number of reasons why her bile level is abnormally high...

The ultra-high nutrition IV (which was yellow in colour, btw...) that the doctor gave her a day or two before her surgery may have given her much strength and needed nutrients, but it also causes strain on the liver. With time, mum's skin and the whites of her eyes began to grow yellower. Though the yellowing has faded a bit, her skin is still quite a sickly yellow tone. The liver may be damaged from having to process the high level of nutrients, and it may take up to three weeks for the liver to slowly repair itself... Three weeks! It could be that there is just an accumulation of bile after the surgery that did not pass through the normal way through the intestines, and so the bile is staying in her body and turning her body yellow. This blockage of the bile duct could be resolved with the insertion of a duct to lead the excess bile out of the body. But it sounds like a complicated (and painful?) procedure...

So mum today looks more sickly than before, even though she has been able to eat a bit more than usual. She also said she felt very cold, which may be caused by the blood transfusion. She not only looked and felt more ill, she also was sad not being able to go home as planned.

And where is my brother now? In another part of the country, away at a time when mum is again having complications with her health...

I really am tired...

Mess

Slept only a few hours after a late night of studying. Woke up at close to seven as the nurse came in, followed by mum's carer in the hospital. Didn't really manage to sleep more as the ward was coming to life at the start of a new day.

I wanted to wait for the doctor to come, but he did not show up today. So I grabbed a suitcase of stuff I packed earlier and left. Most likely mum can be discharged today, and slowly I must take some of the many things I've brought to the hospital home.

Arrived home to the sound of my nephew crying. He cried and cried, obviously very unwell. Before just his dad was ill, now his mother too, and inevitably my nephew also caught the flu and coughs. I kept on telling my brother when he was coughing and showing symptoms to put on a medical mask, but he wouldn't listen. And look what happened now...

The house was a mess. Clothes everywhere, suitcases strewn on the floor, bowls and baby things here and there. I know they are busy with the baby, I know they are both ill, but must it be so messy? They left within an hour of me arriving, all three of them heading to my sister-in-law's place in another part of the country. It's a good thing, as mum, if she is able to come home today, cannot afford to fall ill. With all three of them coughing and being bed-stricken, it's best if they were not here to make this a contaminated zone. I put on a mask as soon as I got home, because my brother despite my earlier warnings still did not put on a mask...

It's unfortunate, ad bad timing, though, mum about to be discharged, and coming home to just me again. My brother and his family came back, but they are gone again, so it's almost as if they didn't come back at all. The only sign of their return is the mess and unmade bed in their room, all many colourful stuffed toys belonging to my cousin lying everywhere...

What's the point?

Sometimes you must ask yourself what is the point of doing so much, of taking so much effort to get people together when all they want to is feel bitter and angry instead of enjoying whatever precious time there is together?

Why don't I just go off and live my own happy life, build my own family and dreams instead of being caught in the middle of misunderstanding and an ongoing real life drama of pride and prejudice?

I think I'll do just that. Go off and be selfish and be happy. Isn't that what everyone else is doing?

Leaving in the morning

Never leave with anger, I've always told myself. And I try to do that. But this morning I left the hospital feeling very upset. I turned to look at mum, sitting there on her bed. A few moments earlier she told me repeatedly to go home, saying I'm not needed anymore. "Go home and think about your temper," she said.

Yes, my temper has been bad these days, made worse by frustrations when I ask her what is bothering her and she does not answer. And yesterday was the long angry exchange, where she listed all the things that I've done that are so wrong. Ok, I'll go home and reflect and repent. Really, all this time staying with her, all the things I do and not asking for anything in return, and mum bites back with all the things I do wrong or not good enough. Well, not good enough is the best her son can give her. Anything more, then she needs to hire a stranger and pay that person to provide what it is that mum needs.

I walked home, almost in tears. I wish I could be more patient, more compassionate, less angry whenever she scolds me or tells me to go and leave her. I wish I could be more tolerant and not be affected when she scolds me or talks to me in a angry and moody voice.

I must tell myself again and again, remind myself again and again, mum is unwell. She's feeling a lot of discomforts, she is not able to sleep well. And she's been starving for weeks. Of course she'll be frustrated, of course she'll pick on little things and make it a large issue. She is frustrated because before, for such a long time, she took care of me, and now the roles have dramatically reversed, and she feels terribly guilty that I am spending time being by her side, trying to take care of her every need. I imagine she ia angry and moody because she feels she's burdening me, slowing my life down....

I must be more compassionate, more forgiving, more understanding... I must not get angry at mum, must not shout back or be rude and hold a grudge. I must meet her anger and frustrations with equanimity and kindness.... I must not get swayed by heat-of-the-moment anger or moods.

I will swallow everything and turn whatever setbacks or scolding into more care, more love, more compassion to make sure mum is more comfortable as she goes through this physically and mentally difficult period of being ill...

Breakdown

"How did we come to this? How did we come to this...?" I said, more to myself. I looked out the window at the city under the cloak of darkness. It's so bright out there, but in this room there is a low depression flowing through. I shed the first of many tears. I felt so very very sad and disappointed... So misunderstood, like all my efforts to make her feel comfortable and somewhat happy are in vain... Like all my worries and fears are wasted energies and times best spent elsewhere...

I know mum's illness and discomforts are making her moody, and perhaps the drugs are pushing her over the edge. I'm not saying she's become nuts, but for the last half an hour or so just before she laid down to sleep, she scolded me for this and that, faulting me for many things that I have done wrong and good enough.

I cannot blame her, I cannot get angry... In fact I'm so saddened that she is becoming this way. Thinking about it, about the possibility that perhaps she'll just get even worse as her illness progresses saddens me even more...

She faulted me first of all for buying the wrong size of strap to protect her stomach wound. It's too tight, she said causing her much discomfort and itchiness. She accused me of not consulting her when I make purchase and that I impose my will on her. I only bought the one I thought would fit her, for she has lost so much weight over the span of six weeks...

Next came the accusation that the massage oil I bought her last week smells bad, and this she told me this after I applied it to her arms and legs to tonight, perhaps a week since I began the routine of massaging her feet before sleep, thinking the lavender scent will help her sleep easier. It's not the smell she wants, she said, and she's just been putting up with it for all these days... All I wanted was to make her sleep better, to take away some of her sores and discomforts...

Then she faulted me for the fact that my brother and his family are coming back next week too spend some time with her. She says it's against her wishes, and that it's a waste of time for them to come back. "Why now? They showed me such disrespect before on Europe! Why now at the very end?!" All I wanted is to let her spend more time with her grandson... All I wanted was to give my brother (and sister-in-law) a chance to reconcile and spend some moments again together...

And she faulted me again for raising questions about the surgery and about inserting the NJ tube. "Can't you see what a little morphine can do to me? And you want me to go into hospice care?!" But I just wanted her to see the risks, to consider the fact there exist options out there... and did we not already do the surgery and insert the NJ tube, so where's the problem?

She even accused me of telling people that she's going crazy and accusing me of talking behind her back and complaining about her to the monk in the mountains and to a friend I've not even spoken to in maybe two months... I've not done any such thing! In fact I've not been talking to my friends much, and have been trying to insulate them from details of how difficult the situation here is... In fact, all I say to the monk or anyone else is how mum's condition is, and how concerned I am about her wellbeing...

I was angry, and so heartbroken by mum's accusations and sudden outbursts. "Fine, I'll stop doing all those things that I did so wrong. Fine, I have been so wrong and did so many things to anger you..." I was hurt, and so close to just bursting out in tears... I felt so alone in the world, so very, very alone...

Why is it that the people you love and care about most can say things to hurt you and disappoint you the most? I realise again this feeling of being wronged, of being so misunderstood-- feelings I had with my ex a couple of months back. Feelings I now am having with my own mother... Perhaps the "problem" is me: I care too much what other people say or think. I was to please people, but instead invite their wrath and annoyance. I was reminded of what the tarot card reader told me: I often do so much, too much, for other people, and yet at the end of the day, I will become very hurt and disappointed by their response. How true, and how painfully true that this is even the case with mum...

I apologised to mum. Yes, I've been moody at times. Yes, I may be thick skinned and want to do things my way thinking it's best for the other person. Yes, I'm careless sometimes and make mistakes. Yes, yes, yes, and I'm sorry. What else could I do but apologise? I raised my voice to argue in the beginning, but at one point I just didn't see the point. Why provoke her even more? Why torment her even more?

I put her to bed, arranged her blanket and wiped a bit of her massage oil off with a wet cloth. I was annoyed, and just wanted to sit in the corner and collect my mind, my hurt and painfully disappointed mind that was so taken aback by the sudden and dramatic turn of events, and by mum's outbursts and anger.

"Maybe it's time for self-reflection. Maybe I shouldn't be doing so much to annoy you and cause you much trouble..."

I had a thought, an ugly thought. I must be selfish, more selfish and focus on my own life, my own wellbeing, my own happiness. I can't ever please others, for there will ways be something to say, something to criticise. But I can't say much if I just go and do my own things, live my own life away from the very people you think are so close and dear to you, and yet with angry exchanges and sudden outbursts can leave you wondering why you have invested so much time and energy on them for.

Time to stop doing others a favour, time to do myself a favour, and live free from all this.

Eruption

"Stop pestering me! Stop lecturing me! I'm already so ill, stop lecturing me!"

My heart broke again, not from helplessly seeing her suffer and be in pain, but realising that I am causing her pain. It feels so hurt hearing mum's raised voice and facial expression as if she were about to burst into tears. Not only cancer and her vomiting, not only her mangled thin body and uncontrollable bouts of vomiting is torturing her. I am tormenting her too, I am perhaps making her worse rather than better... Am I a source of her suffering, a reason why she lies there with eyes wide open and is unable to sleep, despite having not slept properly for two days?

The incident, so small and trivial if I think about it, began because she complained of pains. I asked her why she didn't say anything to the doctor who came to visit earlier, why she did not ask for medication to control the pain. It's not the first time, for she is often in discomfort and in pain, and yet when the doctor comes, she doesn't say anything. Only later does she complain of pain and sores.

I can only do so much by massaging her and giving her heat packs, but the doctor can prescribe medicine to soothe the pain.

"Didn't want to ask the doctor for help because the doctor seems so busy...."
"The pain just comes and goes..."

I really cannot understand why she must put up with pain for any period of time. At night, she'd rather wobble unstably to the washroom by herself and risk falling and breaking her bones(or worse!) than wake me up to help her.

Always so considerate of other people, always thinking of others, which shows how soft-hearted and sympathetic ahe is, and yet in the process she swallows all the pain and displeasure inside... (sound familiar? Like mother, like son?)

It infuriates me, a lot, more because I've told her again and again to speak up when she needs help, to talk to the doctors when she does not fully understaffed something... And it hurts me to see her have to suffer unnecessarily, when sometimes all she has to do is ask for help!

I know, I am rude, I am sometimes very impatient and get angry and ugly when I am upset. I know I must control my tempers and be more caring, more bearing... But I just wish mum could ask for help more... Otherwise, what is the point of me being here, watching over her twenty hours a day?

My aunt (mum's youngest sister, bless her!) came to talk to me and cheer me up. She knows well the situation... Mum and I are very alike, and neither wants the other to hurt or be burdened much, but then sometimes conflicts arise as a result...

"Cheer up! We must be more happy and joyous, otherwise she'll feel like everything is so terrible and that she's dragging us all down because she's ill..."

I know... It's hard being ill, it's perhaps the worse possible thing that can happen to a healthy person. Being ill can really erode your self-confidence, your self-worth and dignity, it can rob you of independence and beauty, can cause you to be so mentally exhausted and anguished... And it is up to us, the family, the caregivers, to make her feel loved and cared for, and not to give her more stress, more cause for worry!

Solutions

How did I ever get get so much power (or so it feels)? When was it ever devolved to me the ability to decide what end course mum's life would take?

This is a very scary, very scary feeling, and I feel terribly uneasy. Somehow I feel like a cruel despot who does not seem to flinch to decide the life or death of the people under his care. Am I a tyrant forcing my will on mum? Am I a stubborn child, selfish little child, who is somehow wishing mum could quickly go so I am rid of this "burden" I've been carrying for so many years?

I trembled as I walked into the hospice ward, and the entire day my stomach felt so terribly upset-- which began with extreme pain in my stomach and the intense feeling like I needed to vomit.

It must be nausea and sickness from fear, nausea and sickness triggered by the reality that there is a  definitive decision that will influence the outcome (and possibly even length) of mum's final  journey. And I am charged with the burden of exploring the options and presenting them to my mum. Ultimately, of course, the decision is hers to make. But I must present them to mum, as if presenting her with a death sentence. "Lethal injection or electrocution? You choose." The outcome, the end result will be the same.

A hospice volunteer, a lady perhaps a little bit older, greeted me. I said I wanted to find out more about hospice care, and what they do on the top floor of the hospital, a place I have never dared to venture into. And I realised why today... However beautifully the brochure tried to capture it, however elegant and poetic they try to describe the 21st floor, it's still the floor built for the purpose of death and dying. (Sometime ago, I wrote a fictional piece about Floor 21 from the perspective of my alter ego, Yuri the Spacemonkey, which I never did publish.)

The hospice volunteer explained to me that there are staff who are professionally and emotionally trained for the hospice. I picked up a brochure which detailed the difference between palliative/hospice care and euthanasia. In an earlier piece last year, I confused the two, but the difference is huge. What is permissible in Taiwan, is hospice care which centres around the reduction of a patient's pain and suffering at the end of life. With the patient's consent, or if not possible, consent of the relatives under advisement of the doctors, all treatment will be terminated, and any future medical intervention is to alleviate pain and discomfort. The body will naturally weaken, deteriorate, and eventually the patient will pass away... In the local terminology, it is called "natural death" (自然死).

The patient may choose to come to hospital, but most people would prefer to be at home, something that I believe mum would also tend to side with. If at home, she said a health care professional can be on call 24/7 and come home to tend to any needs. If necessary, the patient can be transferred to hospital, but once the patient has chosen hospice care, s/he will from now on be automatically taken to the 21st floor, and bypass other wards.

I listened carefully and calmly. The lady was so very kind as I explained mum's situation. I did not have to mention that mum has cancer, for when I did mention it, she compassionately said "I know..." She must know. It is because cancer is so cruel that perhaps most of the people who she comes across are terminally-ill cancer patients."I just want to know what the options are and to tell my mother about it. I just want her to have dignity and be comfortable..." Her eyes were moist as I said those words, the words of a son who cares and loves his mother so deeply he cannot bear to see her suffer too much. Cannot bear to see her suffer, and thus would rather she die soon..?

That is the greatest dilemma, the question that weighs heavily on my mind. Of course I do not wish her to die... Of course I wish her to live a bit longer, so she can attend my graduation, so she can see me be sworn into the bar, so she can see me settle down (perhaps even get married!!) with the one person who loves me so, and whom I love more than anything in the world. Of course I wish she could see me one day have a nice job, comfortable home, perhaps come visit her with her grandchild(ren?) run around me... And I so wish I could take her travelling again, take her to places in the world she and I have talked about visiting together, but never managed to. But the reality is mum may not have the time or energy to do all that. Mum may not have the fortune or opportunity to experience what I would so like to share with her... Share with her m dreams, my aspirations, my wishes and desires.

I left the hospice with some brochures and information. I cannot decide this all, I will not take the responsibility to decide this all, for this is mum's life, mum's choice, though I do know (yet I still must definitively confirm) that her wish is close to mine. This is yet another way my mother and I are blessed, for we see eye to eye in a lot of things, even those that many do not dare to talk about or decide on. I went back to mum's ward, and asked the nurse to make an appointment with the hospice care doctor tomorrow. S/he can come to mum's room and talk to her in person, and my hope is that the hospice care doctor can come before we decide on whether to insert the  nose feeding tube. For it is all related, all connected with life and the decision on how to proceed from here with dignity and grace.

"Stay with her, there is nothing more you can give her..." the lady told me. Then she told me something I have till now not really done, but did cross my mind, even just a few hours earlier before my mum's sister came to visit.  "Take care of her clothes and her hair. When she gets out of bed, you might want to comb it a bit, or make sure her clothes are neat and that she is presentable. And when visitors come, you could put on a bit of make up, lipstick to give her more liveliness." I haven't done much in that department because it's a bit embarrassing, but occasionally I do remind mum about it and  to do it herself. And this reminder made me think: Oh, why didn't I do this before? But now I know...

Now I know even more ways to make mum comfortable and look beautiful again. Even in this final stage, even at a journey's end.

Dreaming of the ex

A slap on the face was what I gave him. He looked stunned and was about to cry. A mutual friend of ours stood by next to us and was surprised by  my action, yet smiled. Did he deserve it, and for what? I don't know. I know only I was very upset at him for something. I've never physically done that to anyone before, and just hope I never will, whatever my ex does or did to me.

That was one dream. What was strange was moments later (or so it seemed), I had another dream of my ex. This time we were lying in bed, next to one another. It was, and felt like old times. Beautiful old times, when we could just lie next to one another, touch one another, feel each other's warm bodies and groins, and talk... The passion, the deep, deep passion was intense, used to be so mesmerising, used to make me weak and make me yearn for more. And it was all there in the dream.

But that is all over now. I have not thought about my ex like that for some time. Or at least I try not to. We are past that now. He told me to move on, go see other people. Because he has. Am I that forgettable? Was what we had so easy to replace and forget? All that in the past is slowly, slowly becoming a distant memory, perhaps one neither of us want (or just I don't want?) to be reminded of. Because it was too beautiful? Because it is too painful to remember?

It was the most bizarre set of dreams, which comes after my ex wrote in reply to an email I wrote to him about why I have been keeping silent and not wanting to talk to him. The reasons were all so clear to me on the night of my departure, and yet he says he does not remember what he said or what was said. He was vague in his email, saying he has had much time to reflect over the past two months or so. He said he was at times hurting and crying, and yet I was not there for him...

I know I have not been there for him, I know that too, and I apologised for not being able to be there for him. But I just don't understand why he has such an urge to want to talk to me when he is down? Is he not happily with someone else? If he has someone else already with whom he can be happy with, why can't he turn to that person and pour his heart out? I have no place in his life if he wants to move on with someone else.  I am and have been perhaps the very reason of his unhappiness and his inability to move on over the past year or so...

And who was there for me when I wanted to cry? When I wanted to talk? I could not turn to him, despite all the reassurances he said that he can be there to listen. Listen and then what? Distract him from his happiness, from the life he wanted to build up? Distract him with news about cancer, about the vomiting, the silences at home because mum cannot or does not want to talk much anymore? I care about him still, I love him still. Perhaps much too much after the painful things that have been said to me... But I'm not sure what role I can play in his life any more. This is a question I have been wrestling with for some time already...