In perspective

Two nail bombs exploded at the end of the Boston marathon, killing three and maiming hundreds... A building in a garment factory in Bangladesh collapsed, killing almost three hundred, with hundreds more still hurried after four days... A split moment of chaos, and lives are changed forever. Some lose their limbs, other body parts, loved ones, others lose their lives.

And what am I doing beating myself up with my feelings? What am I doing wasting my life and youthful energies constantly searching for meaning and purpose without, constantly trying to fill a void that so many have told me only time will heal and fill?

Just be... Just let live and be.
And be grateful that I am alive and breathing, that I have my body and limbs, and that I can still hope and dream...

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...

Mother and baby

A mother is giving her baby a piece orange. The little beauty smiled and laughed at me. The mother bent down to clean the baby's face and stroke her cheeks.

In that scene there is love, motherly love, love that will never ever die. The mother looks smilingly at the baby as she played with the fruit. What is she thinking? "You're so cute... You're the centre of my world... I love you so..."

The baby girl's moves up and down as she munched on the orange. The mother stroked the girl on her head. A beautiful scene, a scene that filled me up with warm inside and caused the tears to begin trickling down my eyes.

Final letter...

I sat there trying to study, and then this morbid and horrible thought came to me...

A letter. A final letter penned by me to the world.

Is it fair or right of me to do something like this? How people who read it will hurt and cry! But with time, will they not forget and move on with their lives? Can I  do such a thing? Can I forsake my dead parents hopes and dreams and cut my life short like that?

Strangely, and perhaps completely irrationally, the image of my ex appeared before me as those morbid thoughts hijacked my mind momentarily. An image of him crying, howling and clambering on his knees toward my lifeless body... I could not cause someone so much pain... Not even if it would take away the emptiness and pain I feel deep down inside...

My mind is morbid, is too destructive and imaginative it is scary...

Breakdown

I don't know what triggered it. I got home, my sweet little cat followed me around so lovingly, I melted touching her soft fur and looking into her soft innocent eyes...

I picked up two letters. Investments I've made recently with money from my parents. I walked around my house, looked at the unwashed dishes, heard the silence, sat down on the floor. The cat came to sit with me. She rolled on her back and made this cute innocent pose... I cried.

I felt like crying almost the whole day. Something was unleashed in me, and I could not control my tears. I cried and cried. Images came back to haunt me... Images of mum at the hospital, images conjured by this meditation music I played in the hope of sitting down to collect my mind. The same music I played every single night during those final few months when mum had much trouble sleeping.

I have not think about those days, did not conjure those images for a long, long time. Somehow they all came back to me... My mind jumped to the future, to one and a half month from now, to my upcoming trip to Taiwan. I cried even more. The loneliness... The pain, the longing...

I tried to collect my mind. But I could not. All I could feel was sadness, pain, and a sense of abandonment... Who could know how I am feeling?

My ex called almost at the same time I sat on the floor and began sobbing. I did not answer. I did not want to bother him anymore than is necessary. I don't want to , don't need to, fall into that cycle of relying on him and being led to believe that there is something special there. When someone is down, when someone is vulnerable, you tend to see more than what there is, you turn to rely on support and place false hopes on the one who can provide you with comfort and with support. I fell pray to that, I cannot allow myself to fall to that again...

As I sat and cried I saw mum's face, saw her sweet and soft face. The cat eyed me and became so quiet, as if she could see how I am hurting, as if she felt it necessary to stay quiet to match the sad and down mood I am in.

I tried to stop crying, I needed to be strong. Who would like or even want to be with someone who is weak and so fragile?
But in all honesty, I do need someone by my side right now, I do pray and hope someone could hold me and calm me down... I saw faces of my friends, friends I have become so distant from, friends who nowadays find it so awkward to talk to me or approach me because they don't know or don't want to know what it feels like to see death, to talk about or deal with death and loss...

I'm sorry, mum, dad... Sorry I'm breaking down again... I must be stronger, must find my own strength within...

Heading home...

Heading home at a quarter past ten. How much did I do? I did what I did, studied till everyone at the office left, bearing the tears, braving possible outbreaks of breakdowns and my mental and physical mind falling apart.

I am somehow again in such a fragile state of mind. Was it the tears that I released yesterday? Was it the empties that were kept so heavily inside (unintentionally, though...). I feel like crying again...

I so long for someone to hold me, to touch me, to kiss me and tell me it'll all be ok.

It is moments like this that I miss mum (and dad) most. Moments when I most need encouragement. Before it was just one phone call and I could hear a reassuring voice. Mum may not fully know what I'm doing here, but at least it was a voice in which I could find solace and love. And that made me stronger, a little bit stronger... Anything, anything to get a semblance of that encouragement and love. I need it now more than ever before... Now to stop the tears from falling again...

Call to the ex

I resisted calling him, even though at times I really want to. For who understand me better than anyone else? Who knows my story and deepest emotions and secrets better than anyone else? For better or for worse, it is my ex.

I started talking about how I've been feeling, how long I've wanted to call and talk to someone, anyone. And then the tears came.

I told him how much of a failure I feel I am. He reminded me of all I have gone through and achieved in the past 18 months. Taken care of mum, accompanied her till the very end, finished my (second) graduate degree, begun a new job, did law exams, traveled to India/Nepal on a pilgrimage... All these challenging things in the most difficult of circumstances. I broke down...

I could not contain my tears and I just sobbed and sobbed. In the corner of the room was a picture of mum. It was an enlarged picture of mum dancing, one morning, the morning after I surprised visited her, when she jumped up in joy (I imagine) seeing me again. I cried even more...

How I long for company, for someone to help kill this loneliness deep inside. How I long for love... how I long to go back to Europe and spend time with my nephew. Perhaps he was the wrong person to talk to because of complications between us, but I described how seeing my brother and his son made me long for family.

I sobbed uncontrollably for a few moments. Yes, this is what I needed. The release, the unleashing of emotions and pain, the breaking down so I can remind myself I can cry and that I can feel again. Because how afraid I was being unable to feel... how afraid I was  to lose the ability to feel pain and to cry.

Surprisingly, my ex's reaction was "softer" than before when we spoke. He listened, actually listened to me instead of telling me what I should do or how I should be doing. To my surprise, he said I should maybe take a break... do something "light", stop putting pressure on myself so much. I asked him whether he has been reading up on how to talk to people who lost someone. He replied all he wants to do is listen to me...

He had to cut the conversation short, or at least it felt like it even though it had almost been an hour. I was reluctant to go, because it felt so comforting, too comforting perhaps, that someone was listening to me cry. It helped immensely, and how I wished someone could be next to me to hold me and to comfort me... how I wished this night someone could be by my side to reassure me that everything will be alright...

Bike ride

I grabbed the bike and just rode and rode. A giant loop around the island, a ride to vent my frustrations...

I rode quickly, and it felt good. The adrenaline felt liberating. I felt free, temporarily distracted and feel like I'm doing something useful.

I rode and rode and came to the place where mum and I once were. Parc Jean Drapeau, the Iron Man monument where we once walked together. I so wanted to cry... So wanted to cry, but I could not.

I don't know what was/is wrong with me... I felt this pain of sadness that I wanted to release, yet I could not. I lay on a bench and closed my eyes, let the sun warm me up...

I am so broken and am lost how long I need to go through this. I must go through this alone... Why alone? Why do I feel so terrified, so very terrified...?

Skype call

My brother called me, it has been three weeks since we last spoke...

I was groggy on the phone, partly because I just woke up, but partly because I was nervous. He asked me how I'm doing... What was I to say?

Been miserable? been and feeling like a failure waking up at noon almost every single day? Feeling so lonely? Unable to study or do anything half productive?

I saw my nephew, how cute he is, how very cute he has become. I chatted with my sister-in-law, who held my nephew in her lap. I could feel the warmth of their family, and felt my home so lacking... My home is so cold, so empty, so quiet. No wonder I always have the radio on in the background...

I felt like crying... I admitted to him, perhaps not in so much detail how horrible I've been feeling, how stressed and demotivated I am these days. He told me to get on with things, to not think about things. But I really don't. I just lack energy, I just lack motivation and drive to do anything at all. I cannot even drag myself to the desk to study, even though I know with each passing day the exams are looming nearer...

My brother told me to get on with things, just to get on with things. I wish I could. I wish I had a push, I wish I had someone to take me by the hand and drag me out of the state of depression I feel like I have fallen into... Last night I spoke to the monk, and he urged me to go see a psychiatrist, to get onto meds. I'm so reluctant... I'm dreading it, even though two people have advised me to do the same. 

I found myself fidgeting with the computer wire as brother and I chatted. Nervous. Afraid. signs of breaking down. Perhaps he could see in the way I avoided looking directly at the camera, in the way I rubbed my face again and again, in the way I pulled at my hair, what sordid state I am in right now...

He looked sadly at me, I can feel he wants to say something or do something for me, but he cannot. I long to be in their midst, long to be playing with my nephew and to be surrounded by family... Family and love. That is what I need most of all now, what I lack and long for day and night...

Dream: nonesense

I dreamed of the guy I have been seeing (well, at least in name after what happened last night...). It was such a bizarre dream, for his mother was there too. As was my late mother.

We were in an apartment, I can't say for sure which one. Perhaps it was where mum used to live in. My friend and his mother were there, happy looking, and it looked like they were getting comfortable to stay the night.

I can't remember the rest of the dream. But it was most bizarre, and in a way also nonsense and disturbing...

Spiralling...

What happens when you lose a focus, when you lose hope, when you lose control of your own life and destiny? What happens when you are afraid of failing? When you feel like you're living a lie and failing miserably to live up to expectations?

You break down... you cry and cannot see the light beyond the all-consuming darkness.

Save me... someone please see my pain and save me from myself and my own destructive thoughts...

Cheating...

Can it be called cheating if you're not officially in a relationship? It still does not take away the shock and surprise, unpleasant surprise.

So eight weeks ago I met this really sweet guy, and we have been seeing each other every single week since. It became a sort of routine, every Thursday after my French class we would meet up and spend almost the whole weekend together. We'd have hours of fun chatting, watching series online, and sleeping next to one another... He liked  me, and I liked him.  A lot. For the first time in such a long time, I felt I found someone I could talk to, especially as he lost a parent recently as well. There was so much passion, and intimacy, and it felt beautiful...

The second week or so, just before he left, I asked him what we are... "We're dating..." he said, "exclusive with one another." and he said he'd be very jealous if I went to see someone else or slept with someone else. I'd pamper him with what he told me are his favourite foods, and treat him ever so dearly, the way I would a partner. He told me a couple of times I'm too nice to him, and that he doesn't deserve me... Last week again he told me how much he likes me, and how he is so attracted to me...

Tonight I found an ad online which sounded so similar to the one I responded to and which led to our meeting (yes, I was looking online because it's a turn on...). Curiously, I answered it (with a fake email and identity... I admit, my bad...) And within an hour or so came a reply, with the same guy's pictures. I was surprised. What made it worse was minutes before he replied to that email, he was still exchanging messages with me. I asked if he wanted to come over, like he'd done over the past few weeks. He said he was too tired, and that he wanted to stay home...

Stay home? More like hooking up online... 

I'm in shock... and very sad. Over the past few weeks I thought we've really bonded and perhaps I was a fool to dream and imagine that it was something really special. Maybe he's just one of those young guys looking for fun, moving from one to the next without commitment or thinking of tomorrow. Who can blame him, especially being younger and having so many years ahead of him still to figure out what he wants...? But I'm deeply disappointed and feel like I've lost a dear friend.
It doesn't help me to heal, but makes me want to withdraw more. Are all guys like this? Dishonest, two-faced and immaturely looking just for instantaneous fun without attachments...? It's scary to think that this is the way the world is...

Uselessness

What did I do today? Woke up at eleven, three hours later than the alarm rang for the first time. Skipped work, and was in no mood to study.

A friend dropped by and we went house hunting. Twelve hours later, after a few drinks in a bar and a few shooters at a club, I'm heading home. Tipsy, my head swaying, music in my ears, typing frantically on the iPhone.

How do I feel? Pensive. Exams due in two weeks. Unprepared. My mind is thinking of flying away, disappearing, hiding. My mind is imagining the bright lights of Las Vegas, the tranquility of the Grand Canyon. I dream of going somewhere to feed and nourish my broken and tired, tired soul. My mind drifts to Taiwan, to a trip I will be making in less than two months. It is as if I want to be anywhere but here... Anywhere but in this moment...

Overwhelmed I feel, by what I am not sure. Exhausted I feel, but I cannot say why or how I have become this way. All the time I think of the law exams I am planning to do that will eventually lead me to qualifying for the bar. All I feel inside is dread, fear, and absolutely can find no motivation or reason for doing them...

Guilt, I feel. I am as good as dead... Squandering away my days and youth, burdened by this heaviness I cannot seem escape from. Many have told me I must go through this before I can heal and before I can rise and soar again. But I am impatient. And it does not help when others look at me so critically and give me the feeling I have become so useless...

I feel this sense of isolation, of detachment. I feel so useless, as if I'm wasting my life away. Why do people look so happy? How can they dance so happily with friends, how can they easily hook up with another? Why do I feel such loneliness deep inside? Why do I have such difficulty finding someone who could recognise my feelings and who could hold my hand and tell me it'll all be alright...?

I so long for someone to sleep with me, to hold me and to show me the meaning of life, the purpose of living and giving once more...

readjustment

Night rider

Frustrated after a day of unproductivity, I grabbed my bike and my iPhone and rushed out the door. I feel like my head could explode, feel the loneliness grab at my heart and feel like I could stop breathing.

Biking helped. The release of adrenaline and sweat helped. I biked along the canal, to a point overlooking the city skyline.


Two summers ago, my ex and I biked here. We sat and chatted, and admired the city in the distance. I felt naughty and sat on a bench became very naughty. It was a warm and wonderful evening...

Tonight, I sit here alone, on a chilly night, watching the same city in the distance across the canal. How much has changed, how the city has changed!

I can barely contain my tears, it feels like. Yet I cannot cry... I cannot cry for my heart is dry, so drained and dry...

Slump

Inability to do anything, to feel motivated, to feel excited or to be productive...

It's not my fault.

And what a slap in my face when someone comes to tell me I have so much and should consider myself fortunate and (just shy of) telling me to get on and stop complaining...

Worthless feeling

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A friend came by last night, I've not seen her for around two weeks.

There were award silences because I did not feel I could tell her much. What I tell her will most likely be passed on elsewhere. This is sadly the nature of the closely knit friendship circle I am in.

And least of all I cannot tell her how I'm feeling, how I'm really feeling. Depression, therapy, tiredness and lethargy... I've tried to talk to her about it before. But the response I get from her makes me feel even worse. Worse, makes me feel worthless and like I'm a whiny sod who enjoys complaining when I have nothin to complain about.

So there was really little I could talk about. The conversations were forced, about very little. At one point I mentioned that I've been unproductive and very tired. I said I feel like I have so little purpose, that I have no motivation and no direction in life. Those were my true and honest feelings I've been wanting to share with someone, hoping someone will be able to understand and sympathize.

Well, that was a mistake on my half... my friend gave me a talk about how fortunate I am, about how I have so much and should really just get on with things. Maybe it was her way of encouraging me, her way of reminding me what I have and a way to push me forward. I imagine she means well, for why would she wish me ill?

But I felt horrible. As she spoke, I closed my eyes and shut out her words. I felt horrible. Horribly useless, as I were some spoiled brat who has it all and yet does nothing but complain. Her words ("People have to work! life goes on!") made me feel like I am a good-for-nothing layabout. Her tone made it sound as if I am making things difficult for myself, make it sound as if I am enjoying being depressed and unproductive.

At one point I really wanted to ask her to leave... But I kept my cool and just changed the topic.

The episode again showed me how and why I feel so distant from my friends. The episode showed again how very little people understand and how they cannot, cannot, cannot know what I feel like or why I feel like this these days. It just adds to salt to emotional injury I am trying to recover from.

And I am supposed to feel better? And I am supposed to be able to just shut away the pain, emptiness and loss inside and get on with things?


If there were a way, I would be dying to find out. If there were a way from this slump, this lethargy and indescribable emptiness I feel inside, I pray I could know.

Numbness

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Yes, I've not really written much of note these days. Nothing really inspires me, nothing really touches or affects me. It's as if I'm going about my life, moving from day to day, with a haze hanging over my brains and mind. It's as if I'm sleep walking, seemingly keeping busy but doing nothing.

Yesterday I went to pick up more things from the cargo shipment that arrived last week at the storage space. I opened all the boxes, dug through them all, as if digging in time and through layers and layers of memories. The brown blanket mum used at the hospital (and long before that...)... the blanket mum bought two of on the same day, one for me, one for my ex... clothes I wore and left behind at her place thinking I'd be back there soon to wear them again... Photo albums, stamp collections, books in English and Chinese she must have flipped through at some point in time... I was numb. Just numb...

Did I expect to cry? Did I want to cry? Perhaps in a way I did. Crying is so therapeutic, and it's been ages since I last "healed myself" by shedding tears. It's been ages, frustratingly long, since anyone or anything made me feel comfortable enough to cry and let my emotions out.

I dug and dug through the boxes. Found the lamps to the Buddha shrine I was looking for to complete the shrine I have placed in my living room... Found the bike helmet, front light and speedometer I was looking for... Found few items of clothing I have missed and would want to wear again... Found incense coils that mum used to lit as a ritual every morning, when she was still alive, before bowing respectfully at the feet of the Buddha... Found the mood lighting I bought mum last year in the hope she would sleep better. I do need some good sleep these days, even though I always feel like sleeping, always feel like I want to close my eyes and escape into a world where there are no thoughts, no feelings of numbness, where I feel no frustrations at the inability to cry...

I pulled down the metal gate of the 5x5 storage space, locked it and picked up the stuff strewn on the floor. I biked home, back to the mess of an apartment I left behind earlier in the morning.

And I went to lie down, to sleep and drown in the world where I do not feel, do not think, do not feel frustrated or sad...

Sleeping and dreaming

I dreamed of mum, and the dream filled me with such a profound, profound sense of loneliness. I cried from longing and pain...

It is sickening how lonely I feel, how somehow (strange as it may seem and sound...) I go to the office everyday and go about my daily business as if pretending all is well and dandy...

Sure, there are plenty of lonely people out there. Just go on Craigslist and you'll see all these men (and mostly men...) looking for company or a quick release. As exciting as those ads sound, reading them make me feel even more depressed.

The loneliness is eating me... It is affecting me deeply, preventing me from doing anything, preventing me from achieving anything. I sleep, sleep and sleep to escape. But I must wake up at some point, and these days it's close to noon before I can ply my body out of bed. I just wish there were a reason to wake up, a reason to stand and breathe and work.

Maybe I'm too comfortable. I don't really need to work for the sake of survival, I don't really need to do the exams I'm about to take. Nothing scares me, nothing pressures me, nothing really affects or interests me. Is this what death feels like..?

Another day, another day to face and get by...

Maiden voyage

I called her "Formosa One". A beautiful Giant road bike that's made in Taiwan, which I bought for my twenty-eighth birthday.

I intended to bike with her around the island. But my knee broke, and I was forced to stop at 140km... That was over 9 months ago.

The bike arrived in Canada and I picked it up a few days ago. Today I assembled her and rode her.

There's a strange sense of nostalgia I cannot describe. I feel so free sitting here on the riverside...

This is the bike I plan to use on a charity bike ride in three months time... It'll be a challenge, a challenge and a promise to mum.

Boxes

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I opened the box. There was mum's hand bag, the one that dad gave to mum once. It's a Prada shoulder bag, and mum suspects dad found it somewhere some six or seven years ago. She refused to use it for a while, but stillage kept it. And then one day, after dad passed, she took it out of the closet and showed it to me. She said even though she's angry at dad at times, she still cares about him deeply. Mum used that small shoulder bag with the thin straps for several years. She had it with her when she went to the hospital. She used (in a sense...) till she left this world.

Those memories flooded my mind as soon as I saw the shoulder bag immediately after lifting the flaps of the cardboard moving box I dug deeper, in search of the hifi system that was hidden in the belly of the box. The outside of the box said the stereo was inside. There was also a small Japanese kimono doll. My old navy blue track pants. A black shirt I have had for over five years (and which I forgot about...). There was also a framed certificate belonging to dad. Only after shifting through so many objects, so many memories, did I manage to find the stereo system. The one I bought mum this time last year to give her some form of entertainment while she is lying in bed in her room. There was a point when I knew she would be in bed for some time, perhaps for the rest of her life, however long that would be. Indeed the stereo system came in handy and have mum hours of listening pleasure...

I remember I got the stereo and set it up in time for come home from the hospital back in May last year. She was upset because I went out and spent money again, even thought to me it was money well spent if the money could give her a few moments of peace and calm and escape from her physical pain. She saw the stereo and complained, as expected, and said when she goes, I have to take the stereo with me. I asked her once, one day during my one month sojourn back in Canada during May-June 2012, whether she enjoys the music. She said she did, and that was enough to make it all worthwhile.

The stereo now sits in my living room. A year later, her words came true. Now she has gone, the stereo is with me.

That was just one box I opened. I opened another one, one with "Buddha statue" written on the front of the box. In a sense, it was another object "on loan" from me to mum, for the statue was given to me by the monk in the mountains. I said almost as soon as I received it that I was going to leave it to mum, for she needed it more than me. I remember having to insist, and mum only accepted it when I promised I'd take the statue with me when she is no longer around...

And now the statue stands in my living room as well, a hand of which snapped off during the long overseas trek...

12 more boxes remain unopened. And I do not have the strength, the necessary strength to open them by myself...

Flatness

Flatness

What is this flatness I feel? This strange flatness of emotions as if nothing is bothering me when something is bothering me? It's not agitation, even though there are emotions I wish to express but cannot. It's not anger or frustration, even though I feel something is dying to burst inside of me... What is it?

I cannot describe it. I cannot even talk about it with people who are my friends. Because they do not listen. Because they do not understand that sometimes all I need is someone to listen, Someone who will not trample all over my feelings but telling me how wrong it is to feel down and unmotivated, someone who will not dismiss my feelings and struggles to find myself with meaningless talk and soundbites of how things will be better (if I didn't know that, I wouldn't be trying so hard and doing all these things to be better...) all I need is someone who will listen and not just stare at me uncomfortably and quickly divert the conversation to latest gossip...

Today at therapy we got this beautiful piece written (it feels like) just for me. It was written by someone who was placed in different institutions over several years.

All he needed was someone who would actually listen to what he was saying.

Bread bar

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We were having dinner, at this restaurant with a "bread bar". What a novel concept, and it crossed my mind mum would have really enjoyed a place like this one...

My ex began to tear, and then cry. "Why are you crying?" I asked. He denied it, but his words were not true to his eyes.

He spoke softly and with a tinge of regret. He told me how lonely it is for him in Toronto, where he now lives and works. He said he could have had a cat, a dog... and me.
He could have had it all.

I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted all that, and was prepared to give my all. But he made a choice, pushed me away. How can you make a choice and settle for someone else and cry in front of me, who has nothing? No friend I can trust, no confidante I can confide in, and no longer a potential partner I saw myself building a life and home with?

I said I only hoped he is happy. And truly, as I have always hoped for him, even at moments when I feel so rotten and so betrayed, I hope he has found happiness, true peace and that he has someone in his life who can make him feel complete and loved. Because I could never give him that, because I have become such a terrible friend and the love who loved him in all the wrong, selfish weis...

It hurt to see him cry. Under the table, I stroked his leg. It seemed the only way I felt appropriate and able to express my feelings and care for him. Under the table, hidden, indirectly, subtly and unrequited. He seemed to cry even more.

Is this really the end of us? Did I kill us because I was too impatient and too pushy with my feelings?

Who knows what will happen and why. He knows how much he cares for me, he knows how special I am. He knows himself how much he loves me.

And I? I am lost and confused and left wanting, longing...

Dream of mum

I woke up crying, the first time in a long while.

I dreamt of mum, saw her pass away, saw her body being pushed away. But in the scene she returned. She was healthy and like her old self again. We smiled and had a good time together, we travelled all over the place.

But at one point, I broke down. I told her that she is no longer real, she is but a dream. "You died already, mum... You have to go now..." With tears, she disappeared.

I woke up. Alone, extremely shaken and with tears in my eyes. Mum came back in my dreams, but she's already long gone.

I could not get myself to get up and out of bed again. I felt so groggy, so horrible, so broken... It was long past noon before I could pry myself out and start the day...

Beneath the smile

Smile, because you have to. Smile, because people want to see the superficial.
Smile, not because you  want to, but you must prove to yourself, prove to others you are strong already.

But is it not just a charade? Is it not just pretend?
Behind the smile, do you not want to cry? Do you not want to burst out crying in front of those who make you feel safe and secure?

But who? Who?  Not my ex, who came to town this Easter weekend to relax and to... I'm not sure what for. He cried seeing me, he cried when we hugged. Crying because he can already feel that things are different now? Crying because he can feel I no longer hug him with the sense of dedication and commitment that I used to? Crying because he knows I am hurting inside, but I am too stubborn to let him grab me by the hand and let him help me, however much he tries?

I am broken inside, but who can see it? Who will and can I let inside my heart and soul to touch me, to heal me again?

Best friend?

It's bizarre. I suddenly wake up in the middle of the night and cannot sleep. I lie awake thinking, worrying, fretting.

A few days before Easter. My ex is due to return in the coming days. I long to get away, and have been looking at tickets and hotels to help me realise that.

How has it come to this? Before I used to so long for his presence and for his company... But now I dread seeing him. I feel frustration and this sense of alienation and resentment toward him. Is it because I've been hurt and disappointed too much? Because I (feel I) have been lied to once too many? Is it because at a time when I need someone the most, he of all people was the hardest on me and been dismissive of my attempts to get back on my feet and share what I am going through?

He says he cares, or at least there was a time he said he did. He said he loves me so, or at least said and wrote he did. But for me, I can no longer place any trust or confidence in him. I can find no safety and comfort in him or his embrace. I have lost him, and through his attempts to keep me on the side while pursuing his love interest he has lost all credibility and squandered every faith and hope I have placed in his arms and in heart. The whole episode between my ex and me is a laughable drama and source of ridicule and entertainment. And I let it perpetuate longer than necessary.

I so want to believe, so want to trust that one day we would be together and that this all is just what we need to clear the negativity and misunderstandings between my ex and me. But more and more I feel (and have been told) that I'm too dreamy, too naive! I should get on with my life, stop wasting my energies and youth with someone who tells you what you want to hear but does something to the contrary of what he says.

Too often I have been told by others to be very careful, to be very wary of his intentions.And perhaps only I now am realising what they mean and how I should have insulated myself through unnecessary pain and heartbreak, especially at times when I am most vulnerable. Otherwise why would people now give me that "I told you so" speech and remind me how long ago they have warned me about getting too deeply involved and foolishly waiting for my ex to return? Broken promises, promises made lacking any sincerity or truthfulness.

How did it get this way? I love him so... I care about him so... I gave myself to him, made myself available and vulnerable to him... We had so much! We slept so beautifully in each other's embrace... We traveled together and felt like the word was ours to explore and to own... But that is all some fantasy now. Fantasy turned so sour and relegated to memories... I am so saddened and so bitter by this, and feel I am to blame for much of how things have so soured...

Was I not good enough? Did I not give enough? Did I not love or care about someone the way he needed or deserved to be loved and cared about? Or was it really, as people have told me, that I fell in love and gave myself to someone who does not really care about other people's emotions or lives?

I am the one who is withdrawing and who now treads ever so carefully around him. Despite his attempts to reach me, to open me up, I am the one now who is unwilling to share anything private or personal with him and all around. I have lost that sense of security and trust, and I am closing up. I am turning cold, turning unfeeling.

I just feel nowadays everything I do or say is being scrutinised, spied upon and reported back to my ex who wishes to know every single detail of my life and wellbeing. This incident the other day proved again whatever I do and whoever I am with somehow manages to get back to him hundreds of kilometers away. Is that not creepy? What did I do to feel like I cannot do anything without being watched and without my life being talked about? So I stop sharing. I stop talking. I stop and hold back when I feel or hurt because I feel I am no longer at liberty to be vulnerable as that vulnerability will expose me to hurt and pain. I stop being myself in front of friends because I cannot be myself.

It is sad that I have to defend myself and put on my amour around people I have come to care about and trust. Saddest when the person I must and have been repeatedly warned I must guard against is the very person who once called himself my best friend and soul mate.

I don't feel like being here, hanging around and putting up this pretense in front of friends that all's well and dandy.
I am sick of putting up a show as if these friends of mine are so close when they have become so distant. In past years, I would think of what to do for Easter and try to get the gang together, but now I just want to get away and let the holiday pass.

This is causing me grief, keeping me wide awake...


(funnily enough, the other day my ex asked me the song of this song we both enjoyed so much when it came out.

The words are so powerful now that I hear them again.)

Why are you so hard on yourself?

I have been in touch with this girl my age, a volunteer from the organisation I have been going to to help me process my pain and grief. She lost her mum when she was twenty. It has been over seven years.

Recent experiences with friends make me wonder if I really have friends. I cannot describe how much it hurts when as you describe your feelings, and how to cope and accept them, your friend cuts you off and tells you to just "get on with things". I cannot say how it hurts to hear your best friend, as I am trying to share experiences from my latest counseling session, reject out right the method of dealing with grief that I have been advised. When your own friends, your best friend even, sit there quietly and give you a blank expression as you try to express your emotions, then what is the point of sharing or talking at all?

So I've stopped sharing, I've stopped talking. I've chosen to keep the emotions inside, to keep quiet and pretend that all is well and dandy. That is what people expect from you, is it not? That, sadly,  seems to be what people uncomfortable with death, who have not really seen death, are best at doing. Ignoring death, ignoring there is such a thing as a right to mourn, right to grief, right to take time, right to support... Perhaps it sounds crude how one person put it, but one day when they loose someone so dear to them, they will feel, they will hurt, they too will cry...

So for several weeks now, I've stopped sharing, stopped talking about my emotions with all except  the people I meet at the biweekly counseling sessions and this one girl I have been in touch with. I finally met her in person today.


For almost two hours, we sat at a cafe and shared our experiences. Shared stories, the pain we experienced, the emptiness and loneliness that "get" to us and the roller coaster ride we have no control over. After seven or so years, she said she feels "numb" now... But for a year or two, she lost all interest, all motivation.

I am being too hard on myself, she told me after listening to me talk about my feelings and how I'm trying to cope. I teared as I said to her I just don't want to "disappoint" my parents. My dead parents. Parents who are not even here (physically) to disappoint!

I just hurt when I see myself down and sad. And I hurt even more when most (not all) of who I thought were my closest friends tell me I should just be getting on with life and stop whining. As if I like to whine, as if I enjoy feeling down and sad...

 The girl told me to be patient, to take it easy and go with the flow. It took time for her to heal. It took her years before she could dispose of her mother's belongings ( I have no choice... next week, a shipment of my family possessions is arriving...). It took her time to find herself, to process her emotions and adjust to the new life after her mother's departure.

For me, it has only been 9 months.

What is the hurry? Why am I forcing myself to heal, why should I place myself in situations that make me uncomfortable and be with people who are not helpful at all to my attempts to find myself? I need to be selfish, I need to protect myself. I need to love myself and give myself affection and care that I have for so long been deprived of during all those months and years when my focus was just mum (and all these close ones that slowly disappeared from my life...)

It takes time. It takes time. And I need to be with people who will give me time to heal.

Where to?

Where are you going from here? What are you doing? These are the questions we must constantly ask ourselves throughout our lives...

While studying late at my office today, my colleague walked into my office. We began chatting and the chat lasted almost three hours.

In various ways we are similar. Born on the same day (at least according to the lunar calendar...), lost in life, and both struggling with depression and trying to find our way to happiness. Both Pisces, both from similar social and racial backgrounds. Both working at the institute and finding ourselves at the crossroads of our respective lives. The only difference is that she is several years older than me.

What now? Where to? And how? We both studied law but don't want practise law. I'm studying to eventually take the bar exam, but for what purpose? Why if I never intended to work in a law firm? Why am I stressing myself and spending so much money on exams when in the end it'll just be another degree I'll not likely use?

She spoke to me like an older sister I never had. She kept telling me if she were younger, if she were my age, she would go out and explore what it is that drives her, what it is that motivates her and makes her want to get up in the morning. I'm searching for that still... And all I know is that it's not found at the work place where I work now, definitely when oftentimes I must force myself out of bed and out the door-- not because I need to work, because I feel like I should show y face at my desk and give the impression I'm working.

We spoke about relationships, about life experiences, about parents we lost, about expectations and dreams. Are we not all looking for happiness? Are we not all searching for belonging and for our own place in the world?

"Find what you want... Go find who you are..." was the bottom line.

I am fortunate that I have no real fetters, at least not for the time being. No parents to take care of or worry about, no partner I am really attached to... I can go anywhere, do anything and I will be fine and free to do so. I can wander the world for weeks, months, or a year, and not really have to worry about means or how...

So what's stopping me? What's holding me back? What's preventing me from getting away from it all and giving myself time and space to discover and explore?

Where am I going?
What am I doing?
What does this world mean to me?

I do not know. But I would like to find out.

Seeing mum again

I saw mum again. She was laughing, smiling, talking on the phone, so fun and cheerful as I remembered her.

She came to visit me on Canada. I pleaded her to stay and stay for a while. I said we could go biking, go to restaurants and have a wonderful time. She was on the phone to an old friend, telling her how she's been these days...

For those brief moments, it felt like she was here with me...

I miss her, miss her so terribly...

Down time

130313.1809

Second day I stayed home. I couldn't bring myself to go to work, to go to the office and pretend to work. Something is wrong again, I feel it.

What is it? Why do I feel so teary again? Why do I feel so emotional and so lonely? Is it because after a long weekend spent with someone, I feel low and empty not seeing him? Or is the sunshine and energized feelings I gathered in st Maarten there weeks ago wearing off? I feel myself falling into another rut. A terrible danger.

Nobody asks about it.
Nobody knows about it.

Should I be the one to tell people? Shouldn't friends, if they truly are such dear and close friends, not ask me how I am? Should they not detect, especially in the way I have been acting this past week, sense that I am struggling?

I need to pull myself together again. And I'm scared. I need help, I really do.