Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts

25 April 2013

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...



20 February 2013

One last look...

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One last look at the view from the living room window of the house my mum last lived in. She moved there around four years ago. I've stayed at that house for months, weeks, many, many days. Most of those days were difficult, as it was through a period when life was toughest on mum, and death seemed always lurking around the corner. Some days were so beautiful, filled with memories of family gathered together, filled with laughter and smiles, filled with the sound of tv in the background, or the echo of mum chatting with my brother and skyping with my nephew on the computer.

I didn't realise the last time I saw that house would be the last time. Over the past few weeks, much of mum's possessions have been "dealt with". Most donated, some given away, and the rest--- I don't know what happened to most things. I only got a phone call two days ago to say the house has been emptied and that my belongings, or what I have previously said I wanted, have been packaged in boxes and shipped. They will be shipped to me here in Canada. What is inside them I will not know...

In the meantime, after two weeks of little contact, my brother told me the painter came to give the place a new coat of paint, so did an estate agent. Soon, it is the hope, the place will be rented out.

I don't know when it happened or how it happened. But my share in the house my mum last lived in was sold. All I know is an amount of money is now "mine".

I am sitting on an amount of money. Several figures, more than I have ever seen and perhaps will ever see. It feels so empty to have a sum on my bank account, so meaningless. And that sim is supposed to represent the value of the home I lost, the home which holds so many memories, mumories and so much more.

All sold, all packaged in boxes, all in the past now...



07 February 2013

Dream: dad...

I've not dreamt of dad in ages. I just saw him, during a nap, and the sight made me cry...

He was sitting at a desk, all by himself, all alone. There was a dim light, and he had a thick jacket on. I approached him, and he looked so changed. His face so thin, his face so glum with sadness.

I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn't say. Contrary to other dreams, he spoke in this one. I proposed that we go out for a walk, but he didn't want to. He only sat there sad and shaking his head. I've not seen him like this ever, not even when he was alive.

He obviously looked very depressed, very down, but I couldn't help him. I tried to take his hand, but as soon as I reached for his hand, I woke up crying...

Could it be that my own moods and depression is affecting dad? Could it e that he is greatly saddened that I am like this, in this terrible state of mind, and he is appearing to tell me something...?

31 January 2013

Unstoppable tears

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It's been almost an hour now since I started to tear for no reason. From the moments before the plane was about to land, to landing, disembarking, to getting the bus, to now on the metro home... I don't know why I cannot stop tearing. And I I weren't surrounded by people I'd just burst into tears, howl and howl and burst into tears...

Where does the pain come from? Where does the sadness that draw these tears originate from? Is it in the snow, in the way snow falls so beautifully and elegantly, so touchingly and so full of fragility? Seems like the source of the tears is endless... I cannot stop from crying...

28 January 2013

Sudden tears

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The moon is out, almost perfectly round. Yellow, small, hanging high surrounded by all that darkness.

Flying on the way home, suddenly feeling this déjà vu and emptiness deep down inside. Flying... Flying home. Why does the mind connect two completely unrelated moments in life and join them web sadness and that sadness one feels on the verge of crying?

I turned on the seat back tv. It was supposed to be a comedy I watched, but the topic was about loss. A man who lost his wife months ago and still unable and unwilling to fully deal with it all. None of his friends can understand him. They say things like hang on there, it'll be alright, but who is the one who has to deal with the sadness at night? Who is the one who must sleep in an empty bed at night? Who must feel the pain of loss and pain of longing?

Heading home. Just completed an exam, but I feel so empty, feel so meaningless inside. I miss the ones I have lost... I miss them so deeply... I so wish I could have someone to talk to and connect with... I wish I do not have to feel like I'm about to burst out crying every few moments.

The plane rolled. Snow, more snow falling so softly, so gently, so romantically. I could no longer control it. It's like in that movie. Out of nowhere, the tears...

"Please stow your emotions. We are about to land..."

Why am I suddenly crying...? Just crying for no reason in public, on board a plane about to land in the falling snow...

25 January 2013

Call to the bar


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The hall began to fill with family and friends of hundred or so lawyers-to-be. The atmosphere was joyous, and I sat next to a friend and my ex's parents, who had ventured all the way from Europe, braving the bitter cold, to be present at their son's call to the bar ceremony.

I searched the mezzanine below us for my ex, and found him. I smiled when I saw the back of his head, even though he did not see me. Smiled at the thought he finally made it, pulled through all those late nights of studying and long hard days at work as a law student... And all those around him, everyone shares a similar story, shares the ambition of one day being able to officially call themselves "solicitor" or "barrister". Getting up at 430 in the morning, having slept only four hours or so max, was worth this moment. Bringing a smile and making little surprises is what I seem to do well, and I managed to pull another off.

The ceremony slept began as the organ played a moving classical piece. My friend's mum teared. She said she felt very emotional, especially as it was the anniversary of her own mother's passing. I wanted to do something, perhaps put my hand on her shoulder, but felt perhaps it was a bit too much. But having recently lost someone dear, I felt I should have said or done more to show that "you're not alone". All I could offer her was my smile of sympathy, and I hope she saw in my eyes what I wanted say.

One by one, names were called out and one by one all went on stage. People from all backgrounds, of all ages. Most inspiring was a guy in a wheelchair, who from a distance looked like he had some kind of motorneurone disorder. Yet he did it, he studied hard, he went through ten grueling months of articling, and he deserved so much to go on that stage and claim his certificates. He deserved so much the loud and long rounds of applause from across the hall. If he could do it, why can't I? Why can't I...?

I sat there and watched and waited for my friend to go on stage. I clapped louder an more vehemently than before, smile and hoped he would look our way, look to see how we all came and how we are so proud of him. Later I hugged him and congratulated him several times, reminded him of how fortunate he is to be surrounded by loved ones.

Without wanting to steal the show, as I sat there, I felt the reasons why it was difficult for me, and why it took courage to attend this ceremony, even though I wanted so much to bring a smile to my friend's face and make it a memorable event.

It's the familiarity of it all. Last time I sat in such an auditorium and on such an occasion was my own graduation, only eight months or so ago. And how heavy my heart was, how terribly, terribly sad my face and composure looked on pictures I never shared with any one. And today, here I was, sitting there, though for someone else, yet trying hard to suppress the tears, trying hard not to think of that day (if it ever comes, when I complete my bar...) when I am sitting there in the crowd waiting to be called to the bar. Where would mum and dad be? Who would come attend and cheer me on? Who would come hug me, kiss me, bring me flowers and remind me of what I have just accomplished and what a feat it has all been? Oh, how my ached even though a part of me tried to be strong and tried hard to maintain a smile for others to see.

I may have been dressed elegantly, I may have looked confident and smiley, but deep down inside I cracking up.


21 December 2012

Train ride

Almost twenty years ago, a dad took his son on a train journey. The dad bought a day-ticket, for unlimited travel throughout the country. How excited the boy was, for he loved trains. And even more exciting, they boarded one of the first double decker trains in the Netherlands at the time...

Close to Zwolle or thereabouts, there came smoke out of the locomotive. There was a a strench in the air... The train broke down. But that didn't ruin a beautiful day shared between father and son...

Riding the same type of train now, towards the city of one of my alma maters, Leiden. The train may look old and may have lost its novelty and luster over the years. But the memories of that day still remains...

Just passed station Mariahoeve... In 1994, on the platform, the boy bid farewell to his dad. The 10 year old boy was in tears, for the parents and the family were going to be split up... That was the beginning of my family's separation...

I cried and cried. Dad looked at me sadly and didn't know how to comfort me. A train passed by. A speeding train that did not stop.

"What kind of train is that? Where is it going?"

Between sniffles, I answered, and temporarily my attention was diverted from my sadness and pain... "It's an EC train..." Eurocity. This was before the era of the high speed Thalys. "Going to Paris, from Amsterdam..." Even then I could tell where the train would stop. Dad complimented me.

Soon, he boarded his train bound for the airport. Soon, dad slowly disappeared from my life...

Funny how objects and places conjure such memories and temporarily plunge your mind into sadness...

Mumories and shadows


She stopped talking. I could see her eyes were watering. The words could not come out...

She and mum have known each other over a decade. The auntie watched me grow up. I was in primary school when our family got to know her.

Every time mum visited the Netherlands she would visit the auntie, and often take me with her. Last time mum and I visited together was two years ago. Last mum visited her was last year (2011), just after she went to spend a couple of weeks in Canada.

This time I visited the auntie alone. I went by bike, the bike mum bought last year when she was in the country. It's a ladies bike, and now there's a baby seat on the back. How things have changed within a year or so.

We sat down in the living room, and caught up on lives. But we all (her husband was there too...) knew and felt there is an absence. We talked about mum, about her life, how wonderful she was, how well lived her life was, how exciting her life was having been so many places...

It was just after lunch, just before I was about to leave. "Thank you," I said, "You've always been so kind and caring toward mum and me..." Even till the end, the auntie wrote to mum and tried to encourage her. Following tradition, the auntie even sent some money after mum passed away.

"She was so..." the auntie began, but my words and the emotions made her speechless. She just sat there, looking down, looking sad by memories of mum.

I gave her a hug before I left, and told her to take good care of herself.

"It takes time..." she reminded me before I left. "Even now, I still cannot deal with the things..." She lost her daughter around ten years ago. She said she left her daughter's things as they are.

I biked home, in the drizzling rain. The streets look so familiar, so laden with memories, cast with shadows of my dear mother... The familiar restaurants, museums, cafes where mum and I once have been to together. Mum was here, but she is no longer...

Coming back here for the first time since mum passed away is proving more difficult than I imagined...


09 November 2012

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

04 November 2012

Dream: mum and dad

The clock went back an hour early this morning, and it's officially winter time. And the sudden drop in temperature really revealed winter's approach.
I took the opportunity to sleep in, sleep properly till I wake up naturally.

I was woken up around 8or so by the need to go to the washroom. I went back to bed, and I dreamed...

Mum and dad appeared before me. They looked lovely, caring and warm. I reached out to touch them, at least I tried... I reached out to feel their warmth and feel love, for its been so long since I felt the warmth of another, felt true love from another...

But they disappeared. I ended up crying...

21 October 2012

Sudden tears

Just had a nice evening with friends, and wanted to head home early. It's nice to go out and meet up with people, to chat about nonsense and to drink and forget. But really, how much can you forget...?

Sitting in the metro, and browsing though pictures. Happy pictures and memories of times with the ex... Then suddenly a picture of mum, so skinny, deep eye sockets, forlorn and ill-looking, nearing death... She looked straight at the camera (an image I captured on Skype...), straight at me. This was taken at the end of May, when I came back here for a month. I missed her dearly then, worried about her day and night.

She stared the camera, deep into my soul. I remember she kept telling me to stay on till my graduation, to stay on and not worry about her. I cried many nights then, hurting because I was not by her side. Seeing that picture again brought tears to my eyes. How she suffered... How much she went through all these years...

And now she's free... No more pain, no more depending on other people when she needs to go to the washroom or get out of bed... No more steady deterioration of the body and decline of the mind... No more inability to let go, no more feelings, no more hurting. Mum is free now...

So by am I crying? Crying because of the image she once was? Crying because she went through so much, when it is all over and done with now? Crying because I had fun tonight and feel somewhat guilty for having a bit of fun and indulging in a few drinks?

Mum is free now.

But I am not...

12 October 2012

Laughter

In laughter, you forget... In those moments when you laugh and let the comicality of life (and perhaps a few crude jokes), you let go and allow your mind to be seized by joy, fulfillment and that warm fuzzy feeling you hope will never end.

But it will end, and it does end. Life is not all joy and laughter, and who believes that joy and laughter will last is fooling himself.

And by the same token, life is not all tears or sadness, not all mourning and pain, and who lives that life is depriving himself of the beauties and miracles of this world and all it has to offer.

In those moments when you laugh and smile, you will forget, you will let go. And you will, as I did tonight, learn and realise, bit by bit life gets better as life moves on...

06 October 2012

100 days

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For two weeks, I've felt the approach of this day. Perhaps I put too much thought into it, perhaps, like with many things in life I put too much meaning into "just another day". Brother seemed to have completely forgotten about the day. But it was the hundredth day after mum passed away , and the sadness and sense of longing and pain intensified.

I spent an hour or so last night at the river side, at a place where mum and I sat a while and admired the breath and beautiful of this land. I lay down to watch the clouds, and listened to songs. Inadvertently, tears began to shed, trickling down my cheeks as I sobbed quietly. The waves and music drowned out my crying.

This is a sadness that nobody, nobody can really understand. It is so personal, so raw because I was there, and it was traumatic. The nights and days, the almost endless fighting and struggle, and dying and eventually death... It saps a lot of energy from you, and leaves you so drained. Empty and drained...

100 days already since mum passed. Where is she now? Is she hurting seeing me cry so often and so much? Is she hurting because friends seem so hard to reach, and who I thought was true lasting, friendship seems so impatient and tired of my tears and me recounting my sorrows?

I laid out a full table of dishes for her... Vegetables, fruits, berries, drinks and even a bottle of Evian (my friend bought) to commemorate where we once were together. I cried when I asked her of she had finished. Of course it did not work...  It was fine cooking and preparing, but when it came to making the offering, I could not stop crying... Again, these are moments I realise that things take time, and that there is a shallow wound deep down.
Then I thought of calling my brother and his family. And in the presence of my little nephew, I threw the coins. And voila, it worked, and she had finished...

Mum is around me, mum is with me... And how it must pain her to see me cry so much, and to cry over such a trivial thing as relationship and feeling misunderstood...

Mum, I will be strong. I must be strong, because in this world, only I can make myself happy...



16 September 2012

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.

09 September 2012

At least I had you...


I listened to this song many times over the past few years. It is titled "At least I have you", and it is about a lover who cares and loved another so deeply that the person is willing to give up the whole world for the other .

The song has always been able to move me, and at times move me to tears. I heard the song when mum was struggling in hospital, writhing in agony and pain...
I sang along to the song when mum was recovering from chemo...
The song and lyrics echoed in my ears when I was holding mum's hand and encouraging her time and again to live her life as if every day were the last day...

For so long, I was there, as a son, as a child, hoping and praying by her side and from afar that she would get better, that she would be free from pain and suffering...

I heard this song tonight again.
And tears began to fall...

For those brief periods I was with mum,  despite all that was happening, I told myself: at least I have her in my life.

Now, despite all that has happened, despite having lost her, I tell myself:

at least I had her in my life...




"I am scared there is not enough time,
I want to hold you,
Until I can feel your hairline has the the trace of snow white,
Until [your] vision becomes blurred,
Until [you] cannot breathe,
Let our our body and shadows never part...

It has not been easy,
We have no command over our bodies,
I am afraid time goes by too quickly,
Not enough to watch you in detail,
I am afraid time goes too slow,
Day and night afraid to loose you...
I would rather grow old within a night,
And never part..."

Bank statement

I found crumpled yellow piece of paper in my rucksack as I was riding metro. I opened it, and saw mum's name and signature on it. Her signature was faint, but still recognisable. The paper was the receipt from a bank transaction mum and I made, and it was dated 20 March of this year.

Immediately I remembered... The vomiting, mum's weak demeanour, mum's gradual decline and inability to hold a pen, let alone sign her own name. I remember going to the bank with her that day to take care of some affairs. She wanted to repay a debt owed to my uncle, even though he had told her many times not to worry or think too much. But she was afraid that once she enters TW hospital, which at that time was imminent, she may have no chance to repay her debt... The bank statement was dated just says after we were told the cancer spread and was blocking the intestines, therefore preventing her from eating or drinking. Perhaps she knew she would no longer be here. Perhaps she knew that...



Little get together

Had quiet little get together for lunch today with friends. They were very kind and generous, and constantly told me to eat more, and more specifically eat more meat because I look so much thinner than before. But I resisted, and said I'm going to avoid meat (but despite protests from a true vegetarian, fish is alright...) till the 100th day anniversary of mum's passing, which is in less than a month's time.

There was the usual small talk about how life has been, about work and such, and of course inevitably conversation touched on how I am.

How am I? Despite appearances, despite smiles and my laughter, more emotional and teary than usual. "Sad..." I said, "Just sad..."

Sad... I cannot describe that feeling fully.

Just sad.

Sad...

And would I want to describe that feeling to people? Would they really try to understand or perhaps just say something dismissive like "It'll pass... You'll get over it..."? Sometimes it hurts more when you try to describe how you're feeling, and people just look at you and say things like that. Of course I'll get over it, of course it'll all pass. But at this very moment I'm hurting, I'm in pain, I'm in tears... All one needs sometimes is an acknowledgement of that hurt, that pain and those tears.

Sad... A kind of sadness that is not buoyed by the fact that I know I am so fortunate to have my health, to have all I need in life (and more...), and on top of it all, I have a nice job. And I have great friends who make me feel lucky and supported.

But I am sad because I'm missing that personal warmth and intimacy which I have gotten used to and at times taken for granted... Sad because I am not sure when or whether I will ever find that same level of warmth and intimacy ever again... The sadness is more pronounced at night when I curl up in bed. The sadness is more frightening and painful when I dream and see mum appear before me.

Yes, it'll all pass. Yes, my tears will dry, my smiles and laughters will be more genuine and true... But right now, I am sad. Just so sad.



08 September 2012

07 September 2012

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