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...

Heading home...

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On the plane alone heading back to Montreal. The little surprise I planned was a success, and I think I brought a few smiles to my ex's face. But why do I feel so empty now? Why do I dread to go home and why does a part of me hope that something will happen to the plane...?

This is my problem. I cannot deal with loneliness, I cannot stand it much, even though most of the time I am alone. Just before leaving, I had a sort of nervous breakdown, so close to tears and I was shaking. I nearly threw up my food. A beautiful day was ending, a lovely time spent with the ex is ending. And I need to go home, on my own.

He said he's lonely too. Maybe, and he must know himself. But I do wonder how lonely one can really be when you have a partner, when you have the affection, phone calls and laughters you can have with a partner? How lonely can you be when your parents travel thousands of kilometers away to be with you on a special special occasion? How lonely can you be when your best friend/ex lover puts aside all his conflicted feelings and the difficulties of facing the beautiful love and bond of family life he craves for so much just to show up for a day to make you happy? I cannot really understand, just as he cannot fully understand what I feel when I say I've lost all that is dear to me and lost the purpose and focus of my own life. Perhaps this is where we are diverging from one another's paths: we do not seem to understand each other, do not seem any more to be able to give each other that natural feeling of joy and pleasant company we used to share and treasure so much.

He told me again he loves me and cannot stop caring about me or thinking about me. He said I've always managed to fascinate him, attract him by the "karma" (kindness) I show and by the little touching things that I do. But I feel I've lost that touch, that warmth, that passion and motivation in life to want to make a difference, to want to work towards something beautiful and meaningful. What happened? Why have I lost touch with my inner self and the me that before was so kind and so easily moved and touched?

Rightly or wrongly, I've always been geared toward making people around me happy. Perhaps my happiness depends (dangerously!) on the happiness of those around me and dearest to me. Mum formed a core of my life, my best friend/ex formed another fundamental core that touched my life like never see before. And now that both these people have become out of my life, I feel such imbalance and very distorted. when I lose people who matter most, whether through death or because they've moved on in life, I'm left without a core, without direction. It's not healthy, I know, but I am sort of useless on my own without someone to project my love and affections to. I have a cat, yes, but there's only so much I can give a cat, and only so much she can give me...

I need to find a purpose, find meaning in life, find myself and be comfortable with myself. I need to be able to fully be "me" and not allow Myself be so troubled by thoughts of doubt, thoughts of envy, dreams of the future and thoughts I self-criticism. Cry if I must, scream if I please, close my eyes and swallow the pain and hurt if I need to, but in the end I need to be strong, need to find a way to survive, and move on without lingering, without looking back.

I need to love myself, love myself so much more... Because now the only person who can offer me that fully and unconditionally is me. No one else.

Love myself, hold myself, tell myself I will be alright, tell myself I am loved and I am deserving and worthy of love... And one day, I will really be loved, I will find love, and I will love again.

Night in

My colleagues came to cheer me up on this Saturday night... I'm very grateful, for I have been feeling so lonely and fragile being alone at home. They came, had dinner with me, and we played a game and watched a movie. By the time the night ended, it was already past one in the morning.

I was sad to see them go, even going as far as asking them to stay over. There are two spare beds they could easily sleep in. When did I become so clingy? Or am I just afraid to be alone, afraid that I will break down and cry and cry again?

It felt wonderful to be surrounded by people and to be playing board games. It's been such a long time. And perhaps a reason why it felt good was because these colleagues do not know my ex (at least not that well), so there's none of that awkwardness or feelings that there are things unsaid. Honestly, I just feel like I cannot talk to anyone nowadays, and not least talk about my deepest feelings because (paranoid or otherwise...) I feel word could easily get around. It's a sad state of affairs when you have to be ever so watchful of what you say to your friends. Makes you wonder why they are friends in the first place when anything and everything you say can become the source of idle gossip and entertainment.


 I helped to clear the snow away from the car, and stood there on the street to watch them drive off. "Thank you so much for coming..." I said. I really was grateful, so glad that they came and spent the night with me. I needed it, I long for it. It makes me happy to bring some kind of joy and warmth into the lives of others. It touches me to hear that my little home (and cat...) gives them a feeling of warmth and belonging.

I told them that to be honest, the two bedroom flat feels a bit empty and big for just one person. Why did I get this place three years ago? I imagined mum would retire and maybe come live here a few months per year... I guess I imagined also of living with someone dear, and establishing a realm home together, because god knows I need that and long for that. Well, also partly because I wanted to give my cat more space to run in and big windows she can look out of...

Well, now it's just me now, in this apartment with all these personal belongings and household goods. It's very homely, very comfortable, and perhaps I do not appreciate it as much as I should. But is not warmth and homeliness better when shared?

Calling home

The last time I called home, mum was still around to pick up.

The number is so familiar to me. I know it by heart, I use parts of the digits for some of my passwords. It was a number I used to dial, once, twice, sometimes even three times, a day.

And then nothing. There was no more need to call. And once, sometime ago, when out of force of habit and without thinking, I dialed that number. But there was no one to pick up.

I needed to call tonight, because my sister in law is supposed to be there today, and she wanted me to contact her to discuss what to do with mum's possessions. But I guess she was out, because no one picked up the phone... 

Instead, I called one of mum's dearest friends, whose husband (a medium and Toaist priest...) was in charge of organising her funeral. As bizarre as it may sound, I asked how mum is doing...

She knows I've sunk into terrible, terrible depression. She knows somehow that I've been crying a lot (as I am crying now...) from pain and loss. She knows that I am feeling so lost and directionless, and so very lonely. Mum knows.

One can dismiss this all as superstitious rubbish, you can say I am insane to believe the exploits of charlatans,  but think of it this way: imagine mum were still alive today. Who knows me better than any one else in the whole wide world? Who can feel my feelings and share my thoughts better than any one? She may not be here on  this plane of existence, but, somewhere where I cannot see her, somewhere where I cannot hear her, that's where she is now... Perhaps my dreams and the images in my mind are portals to that alternative plane, perhaps the realm of my dreams and imagination is where we can see one another and "communicate", albeit in the language of silence and facial expressions...

 I imagine she is looking at me, watching over me... looking at me as I looked at her all those days and nights by her bedside, watching over her helplessly. Perhaps she is feeling helpless and hurting now as much as I did when she was in pain and suffering from her illness...

"When you need to talk to someone, please call. We are here..." My mum's friend said she misses mum too. "And she was just a dear friend... I cannot imagine how it is for you, she was your ma..." In her voice, I could hear her begin to tear. "She was such a kind person, your mama..."

She was my mother. My dear, dear and brave mother. I had to cover my mouth to muffle the groan of pain and agony from escaping. I had to close my eyes to contain the tears. Quickly I ended the conversation. It had to be quick, because I could not utter another word.

For the next ten minutes, I cried and cried, and cried some more.

Bursting with tears

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One moment you're fine, and the next just bursting out in tears... I am reminded of that movie I watched a few months back, where out of nowhere the daughter in the movie suddenly breaks down and cries over the loss of her remaining parent... Who would have known, I am at that stage now.

Second time today, just sitting and crying. Unable to control the tears, unable to still the pain. Where does it all come from? Where am I going with all this...? I can't keep on breaking down and crying alone at night. I can't...

It began as soon as I was searching through my emails for some information. I came across an email mum sent me, back in September 2008. I just moved to Canada, she was planning to visit me. Her email detailed her itinerary, flying in from Boston Logan to Pierre Trudeau Airport. The plan was to visit me, and then we would fly together to Europe. She ended her email with:

 "I'm going to the community college now for lessons. If there is anything, contact me. Good luck with everything, hope all goes well... Mama 0909"

9 September  2008.   I just began my life here, just had a week or so of school, just found and moved into an apartment, my very first apartment on my own. I moved here not knowing what to expect, and feeling somewhat excited about the unknowns to come, but also reeling from the (then) recent loss of my dad. I was lost, confused, lonely, and longing for someone by my side. Funny, four years on, and the same feelings of loss, longing and loneliness have not much changed. Perhaps they have only intensified now that my mother has also gone.

But four years on, I will no longer get an email or touching message from mum  again. 

Nap

I was exhausted and had to lie down on the office floor to take a nap. Last night was rough, as I lay in bed and struggled to fall asleep.

I saw myself in the dream, I felt emotions overwhelm me. I saw tears burst from my tears.
I woke up and felt the corners of my eyes. Though they were dry, I could have cried, really cried from the deep sense of longing and loneliness inside. What does it take to be loved? What does it feel like to be loved and cared about? To be wanted and desired? To have a special someone I could turn to at times of need?

Perhaps I once had it, perhaps I never really treasured it. But now I am truly lost without it.

Absence

What overcame me? Why am I suddenly crying again? Such sadness again, triggered perhaps by unpacking a bag containing clothes and items I took back from home almost a month ago. Yes, been almost a month and the bag was just there on the floor, untouched. It was as if I was/am afraid to touch it, afraid of what emotions and memories (and tears...) may be drawn from opening it all...

I unpacked the bag. In it was mum's blanket, the one she used till the very last moment... In it was a cat cushion I bought her, which I gave her to use to keep the sores away... She also used it till the very end....

Four years ago, I took the blanket dad used to the very end. Now, I have that of mum. Four years later, dad's blanket is just a blanket I use often, one that is stained on one side with his blood, one that smells more of me than anything else... But the blanket will always be one that is special in my heart, that is so soft and gentle to the touch...

Tonight I also tidied my drawers and sorted through my old clothing. Seeing clothes mum bought me, or clothes I bought with mum was hard. Seeing clothes dad once wore, and which I took with me after he left, hurt more than I imagined. And perhaps with the fresh wound, I found myself wave in and weak again...

I picked up the phone and called the monk in Taiwan. It was the first time I called "home" since I left. I almost cried hearing the voices of home (there were other people at the monastery, all of whom I know...)

"I've been so sad and down..." I said. That is the only way I am and have been able to describe it. Sad. Down. Empty. Hurt. Distracted and confused.

The monk told me to watch those feelings, and reminded again that they will go. All the feelings will come and go. That much is certain. He told me to think of it this way: before I was in Canada and away from mum. Now it's more or less the same. She's away now, and you can think of her still, just not reach her. "Think of her when you want, and she's out there somewhere..."

I struggled hard to contain my years. Struggled so hard not to cry. And often the more you try to do that, the more you end up crying after you let go.

I hung up the phone, and steaks of tears flowed down. I could not help from crying. I still cannot help myself from crying...

The longing, the pain, the emptiness is so immense. So very immense...

Tears

I started to cry in the middle of the night after some misunderstanding with a friend which made me feel terribly guilty and terribly lonely. It was perhaps the second most intense crying session I experienced since I returned. There was just this loneliness, this terrible emptiness inside. I kept seeing images of mum and me holding her hand, seeing her lying at the hospital and being so weak and me sitting at her side trying to comfort her...

And I dreamed... of mum, of me howling in great pain. There was such a missing, such an intense longing for her I could not describe. The morning was again one of those I spent drifting in and out of sleep and consciousness, and after really getting up I felt completely drained and exhausted... The intensity of the dream was numbing, and now I feel like I'm in a daze, like I've been through terrible torture and just feel numb now...

Surreal

Am I alive?
What am I doing here?
Lying here, dreaming, drifting away... Am I really living?

So much has happened, but now it's all quiet, all quiet. And who do I have left in life? Who cares, who is there to hold me when I am weak, comfort me when I am sad?

The teddy bear mum once gave me is right next to me... She told me when she gave me the bear: he will keep up company when I am gone.

Now she is gone. Really gone...

And I cannot keep from crying.
I cannot keep the sadness and pain at bay...

Something inside so strong

I feel it especially at night when I am alone, when the lust and sexual desires and energies have been released... The emptiness, the terrible terrible emptiness and pain of feelings that is cutting my heart and tearing apart my mind.

The pain and emptiness is especially strong at night when I am alone. I feel so alone, like I am unable to turn to anyone. Nobody can be trusted with my feelings, nobody can be burdened with my dark brooding thoughts...

I just wish I had someone to talk to, someone to lie next to and to hold me and reassure me. I just wish I had a lover who cares for me, who can soothe my pain and wipe away my tears and remind me again and again when the emptiness threatens to return: there is something inside so strong...

So strong, if only I can feel it.

Lonely heart

At night, when all is quiet, when no one else is around, the loneliness beckons...

And it lures me in, almost swallows me whole and crushes my soul. I never really acknowledged what a "needy" person I am in terms of affection and human contact.

But now I realise, when all is quiet, when I am alone at night, and there is no one I can call up, I feel my lonely heart ache and my eyes threatening to cry again..

Heartbreak

I must learn to be alone and not to be afraid.

I must be able to hold myself, look at myself, love myself, and not allow the loneliness get the better of me.

The only way I know how is to let the tears fall...

Heartbreak

Riverbank

Sitting on the riverbank, absorbing the sun and the wind. I see mum, see her face, see her smile... I promised her once I would take her here, that I would show her the river and let her listen to the sounds of the rapids. I never managed to find the time. And I never will have the chance now...

Uninhibitedly, I started to cry again. As much as I long for a bit of human companionship right now, it is perhaps best I am alone.

Out here in nature, my tears can shed and within moments be dried by the wind. The splashing of the rapids can drown out my sobs... The river flowing by can soothe my aching heart and make me feel less abandoned and alone. At least for a moment. Nature does not feel burdened by sadness or exhausted by talk of death and illness. Nature does not seem to mind listening to my sorrow.

Dear nature, how i wish the blowing winds, the flowing river can reach inside of me and wash away this unbearable feeling of emptiness...

Terrible sadness

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There are going to be moments when I lie down to sleep and suddenly, in the midst of the silence of the might, in the absence of voices save for the voice inside my head, the terrible, terrible sadness hits me hard. "All alone... You are all alone now in the world... Nobody can hear you, nobody can hear your pain..."

Tonight is one of those nights. One of perhaps many, many nights to come...

Countdown

I find myself counting down the days and moments till I leave here...
Again, I am feeling pressure of living with my brother--something which I escaped from four years ago when I made the move to Canada. The poor attitude, the grumblings, the commanding tone and playing boss. I cannot stand it. I cannot tolerate it. So I react with irritation in my tone. Or I simply do not react at all.

The other day, I spoke to the priest (who can communicate with the dead), and out of nowhere he said my mum had something she wanted to tell me. "Tolerate your brother... Bear with it..." How painful it is to hear from mum from beyond the grave and to know that she is still thinking of me, worrying about me. There are moments when I feel like shouting back, hitting back at my brother and saying: "Who gave you the right to be so bossy toward me?! Even our mother never treated me this way!"
It adds to my grief, accentuates the pain and emptiness I feel deep down inside... It is sad that my own brother, the only person left in my family, treats me like crap and makes me feel so unwanted here...

Tolerate it... Bear with it... Only for a few days longer. If I think of things another way, I will feel better. Maybe this is my brother level of communication... maybe this is just the way he is, bossy, commanding and temperamental. In a way, it is sad that he cannot talk without getting upset and getting frustrated at everything and everyone. Maybe deep down there is a lot of anger and frustration that he cannot find a way to vent...

Tolerate it... Bear with it... Only for a few days longer.

Hurt

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Really, who understands?
They can tell you it will take time.
They can tell you that it is normal to feel a certain way.

But who of these people underwent what I went through?
Who of these people know exactly, feel exactly as I do and can fully, fully appreciate the hurt and the depth of fear deep down?

It is too easy to talk about mourning, to say "I understand", but at the end of the day, I think to myself: "You will really understand when these things happen to you..."
And god forbid that should happen to any one...

 Sometimes it's best to say nothing. Sometimes all you need to say is nothing, and all you need to do is hold someone's hand and make them feel you will be there no matter what. Because words get in the way. Words mean so little.

Nightfall

"Now that your friends are gone, you have to be strong..." my brother said to me before heading to his room. I was surprised by the comment. But then again, death brings people together, death brings out the humanness and unexpressed words in people. Death cements love in a whole new way and at a whole different level.

Yes, after my ex left, another dear friend who came to visit for a couple of days, left this afternoon. And after a week of being surrounded by people, after a hectic week of funeral arrangements and rituals, it has suddenly become so quiet. I knew this was coming. I knew after being surrounded by visitors, mourners and friends, there would be a moment of quiet. Sad quietness. Lonely quietness. Quietness that eats the heart. Quietness that before would occasionally be broken by mum calling my name or her moving about in the kitchen or in her bedroom...

We spent the evening watching a movie I picked up the other day on the recommendation of a friend of mine. "Seven Days in Heaven" it's called, a Taiwanese black comedy that aims to portray and mock a lot of the local rituals surrounding death in the family. My friend told me it would be a cartharsis and good way to begin purging our emotions after two emotionally charged two weeks from the moment mum passed away and to bidding farewell to mum just two days ago.

It was, and at bits made me smile at the ridiculousness of a lot of rituals, and made me glad that our own funeral was less complicated and less regimented, and that we were not completely bound to the pressures of following traditions and the word of the elders in our family.

Even so, the final scene moved me so, and gnawed at the fears and pain deep inside. You see the daughter, who throughout has been so brave and so strong, so stoic and kept her sanity in the face of insanely long and at times absurd rituals, break down. She breaks down because for a split second or so, a memory, a thought of her late dad crossed her mind. But that split second was good enough to create an outpouring of tears for an hour and a half.

That could be me.

That could be me at any point, at any place.

Sleepless...

Can't sleep. So many thoughts, so much chatter inside my head...

How I wish I could talk to someone, someone I trust, someone I can talk to without feeling or fearing that s/he is going to report back to my ex... How I wish I could turn to someone and have a good laugh, have a good cry, and be told that everything will pass.

Because I truly need that more than anything right now... For every day is a repetitive and testing ordeal of being so tired and having to shuttle between home and hospital...

Dream

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I saw death again, a blurred vision, a vague glimpse, but undoubtedly it was death... And it left me, in the dream itself, feeling so empty, so very traumatised and lonely inside? Is this how I will feel at the end of it all? Empty, indescribably empty and traumatised like a shellshocked soldier with a wounded soul that is so hard to make whole again?

I was woken up by the sound of mum trying to open her water bottle, and trying hard to get up from lying down.

I slept for a hour or so so far.