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Sunday, November 28, 2010

Took Prozac last night cos I couldn't take the rain no more.




I was high all morning thereafter.




Couldn't wipe that silly grin off of my face.




The reason why I hate taking medication for my antenatal thingy.




Makes me numb and slow.




But I do get some mental rest.




Too slow to think about the bad stuff.




That explains the grin.




I took another tablet just now.




I guess it's too serious for me to control.




The constant mental distress I keep feeding my mind was killing me.




Couldn't wipe the trigger off my mind.




The trigger that caused the rain to start.




Writing this makes me sad again.




But that's all there is.




Sadness.




Too slow to process more devastating thoughts.




I wonder how long I'd be on Prozac this time.




I feel like hiding forever.





Away from the glaring crowd.




Away from all the memory lanes.




I wished I could.




I wish I could.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

I don't know how other people do it.




Pretending that nothing happened and its all good.




Walking down memory lane hurts.




And it still pricks me like it was yesterday.




Suddenly I have this feeling that it'll never go away.




That she'll be forever haunting me.




And he'll never react the way I wished he would.




Please. Don't treat it as if it was no big deal.




On the contrary, it was helluva BIG deal for me.




It had crushed me. And it continues to crush me to this day.




This is not something you can joke about or laugh it off like it was a comedy.




Knowing how to get home when you got lost because you knew where she lives is a BIG deal.




Yes, I don't wanna elaborate.




Because I know that when I read this ten, twenty years down the road, I'll still remember what I meant by that sentence I wrote.




I don't have to elaborate.




It burns deep and painful.




It would leave another scar.




To my already scar-filled heart.




Yes, telling the truth or lying to me both leave me sad and devastated.




There is no way you could've protected me from the pain.




You'd lost that right years ago.




Now everything done to recover it just means more pain for me.




More so because she is so near me.




She's like a shadow that I cannot shake off.




A phantom determined to ruin whatever pride that's left of me.




All these, because I chose to lose to her.




I'm certain I've lost once and would lose forever to her.




Please don't pretend that it doesn't matter.




One walk down memory lane can leave me devastated for days.




This is how affected I was, and still is.




Sometimes I really wished someone would erase this part of my life out of my memory.




That way, I'd be able to stand tall once again and not live in the shadow of shame.




She'd shamed me. He'd shamed me. And I can never get out of that deep well of shame I've fallen so deep into.




I'm such an ugly loser.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Okay, I get it.




It's just this antenatal thingy I'm suffering from.




I just have to hold out for another five months, and hopefully after I pop, the postnatal thingy wouldn't come a-knocking.




So a year down the road, when I revisit my journal, all I'll be reading would become nonsense to me.




This is definitive.




And no I don't and can't expect help from anyone.




Because everyone has his/her own issues; even him.




With no expectation comes no disappointment.




So there! I've said it.




Feel better already, Sam.




You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.




Your life is not a mess. It's just the antenatal thingy.




Really.




Mind over matter, Sam.




Mind over matter.


I must not put myself above all else.




I must not.




Even if everyone else place themselves above me.




Does writing give me a better perspective than others?




I think so.




Yet I cannot help but bring myself to think that I seem to be the only one who keeps adapting and changing to suit others.




I try to convince myself of this motto of mine almost everyday: Be afraid not, what others think of you. It's what you think of yourself that sets your esteem.




Yet my esteem is such an all time low.




What is holding me up; is exactly what I force myself not to believe...




that people actually think better of me than what I think of myself!




Pathetic.




Drawn into a past that I cannot get rid of.




People move on.




They stop feeling sorry for you.




They stop giving you chances because of pity.




They forget. They get interested in other juicier news.




Yet my time stays frozen at the point I broke.




It's really just me.




I'm convinced.




And I am forcing everyone I know to remain where I stood.




It's impossible.




I think this is why I'm miserable.




And will forever be.




I can't get back the things I've lost.




But I've gained new objects that seem more important.




Still the scar etches deep in my heart.




The occasional twinge that I feel at the slightest pull of memory.




Do you get that sometimes?




That is... provided you've been there before like I did.




Hell.




I need to gather my thoughts before I carry on writing; lest I regret what I write.




This is; after all, a public journal. Not my private garden of solace.




Sigh.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Getting more tired by the day.




And I'm only mid-way towards delivery date.




The family isn't faring as well as I wanted it to be...




Everyone seems to be down with something.




On top of work, disciplining children, managing my fainting spells and loose stools, I seriously think I've neglected someone important.




He's getting quite weak these days.




And easily agitated.




I try very hard to push myself to do something for him...




Then I realized thereafter that it may not be the kind of loving he desires... or I'm just wasting my time.




I get so tired even without doing anything.




Imagine pushing myself to ignore unpleasant mood swings and catering to physical needs (not really frequently)...




I'm near boiling point.




Becoming vapour.




I know that I'm just thinking too much about myself rather than focusing on his needs.




That's why I feel the heat.




But sometimes I really wished he'd do the same for me...




... reflect on what he's been doing and whether it helps or otherwise.




Some people would simply presume the kind of method they render love to people are normal and would be accepted.




Yet, not all people receive love the same way.




You may be signaling love by doing sweet stuff on the secret to someone... but that someone may not feel the same way.




Sigh.




Human interaction is a difficult chore.




Especially when you have to deal with it day in and out.




Time to do some reflection and improve on my skills...




Sigh.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I'm becoming quite a procrastinator.




Chris suggests that I should be a part time writer - I guess specifically to garner more income in a way.




It'd be nice to have a column all to myself somewhere in a magazine or the papers...




Yet where do I find energy to do it?




My own book is stuck in a thick marshy rut - and has been this way for weeks.




Whoever invented PROCRASTINATION is seriously a sinner.




I'm the kind who never leave my 'in-tray' full of stuff.




I'm the kind who maintains an empty 'in-tray'; not because I've got nothing to do, but because I've finished all that I needed to.




Writing a book is SO NOT ME.




I should abandon the idea.




It constantly eats up the space I have on my empty 'in-tray' - all because this is not some work you can complete immediately - it takes time.




Nevertheless, I'm just gonna write on and see if this works.




Gosh.




And baby Ian is sick.




After few months of coughing we decided its time to see a paediatrician - and guess what - the cough has evolved into BRONCHITIS.




This is bad parenting I'm super guilty of.



Thinking that seeing a doctor for coughs would only means getting redundant medication that gives only symptomatic treatment - coughs would go away anyway with/without medications... I've allowed the poor baby to suffer nights of limited oxygen in his little lungs, and crying his heart out cos he couldn't sleep without air.




I'm glad Chris suggested a visit to the PAEDI today.




And the 'garang' baby is still running about, playing catch with his elder brother.




On a different note, we had a wonderful class gathering last weekend.




It's nice to see everyone happily married with kids/kids on the way - and doing well in their careers too.




I still remember the days we spent trying to hide from preceptors/clinical tutors during our field visits to various OTs...




And the pleasant lunch breaks we have together as a class whilst within the school campus.




Now we're all parents of children/foetuses (ok, this sounds weird but what else you want me to call the unborn?)




Congrats to Chin&Ken for carrying a girl, congrats to (the almost exploding)Ling&Sam for the impending boy, congrats to KW&Lily for the new 'atas' abode, congrats to myself for having three when I couldn't afford it!




We are missing some friends here... but... there is still Christmas and many more years to come!




Surprisingly, this is the first group of friends I managed to maintain decent contact with.




I'm super famous for breaking contact once I moved on from whichever stage of life I was in.




I hate contact.




It makes me all human.




And I hate being human.




Although I do know that living a secluded life doesn't mean I'm not human.




It's just... well... you know... I've got to use my heart more when interacting with people.




And I've got a really weary heart.




I'm beginning to lose my train of thoughts... I'm writing all things jumbled up again.




Oh, I miss my husband.




He'd always set things straight for me.




Puts me back into perspective (the one where life is nothing else but a misery)...




Okay. I'm really writing nonsense now.




That's all for now I guess.




Happy holidays people!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Sometimes... I wonder if I'm ever going to get over the fact that I once lost to her.




Even till today... I'd remember that angelic face of her and think of how much evil she had bestowed on me.




She'd made me doubt myself as a woman, as a living person capable of being loved.




Is this why I refuse to allow myself to be loved? Because I feel that I don't deserve it?




Everyone is born to do and excel at different things... I shouldn't compare.




But when she'd crossed my path and showed me she was capable of excelling in what I thought I had excelled at...




I broke. I remain broken till this day.




How does one heal?




How can you look at the person who gave you hell and think nice things about her?




I hope I don't see her...




Yet I would always glance around looking for her presence.




For fear of bumping into her?




Or plainly wanting to make her remember too?




Ridiculous.




I know.




Yet often I'd ask myself if I'd ever stop doing this to torture my battered soul.




I look at the person sitting next to me right now and I know the answer.




It won't be an easy task... Yet one day, I'd succeed.




Not today... Maybe not even tomorrow or the year after that.




But I have faith... That as long as the man I fought for is still holding my hands tight...




I'd succeed eventually.




Everyone is born to excel in different things.




I was born to excel in adversities.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Haven't been thinking about that nice positive picture for quite some time...




And it's taking a toll on me.




Okay, so I'm not concentrating hard enough.




Maybe I don't want to.




I'll start tomorrow.




Promise.




Sigh.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Knocks me down right back to where I started.




Everytime.




I'm so sick of it.




When would my life be a 'game over'?





Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Ah...




Breath of fresh air.




I wonder how long this nausea is going to last.




Well at least the puking stopped.




I realized I'm so used to finishing things up the moment I start, its very difficult to write in bits and pieces like what I've been doing.




Sometimes, in the bus, I'd feel like writing an excerpt and in the end I thought that excerpt didn't quite fit any part of the chapter at all.




Other times, my mood simply doesn't quite link that often. And it appears that two different authors are penning their thoughts into the same space.




Awww... this is getting quite frustrating.




Now I really wish I could just spend one whole week doing nothing but write. Then, I could finish it in a smooth transition instead of trying to fit everything in.





I wonder how other people do it.




Write a few days, travel, then write some more.




He's been feeling tired, he told me yesterday.




When I feel tired, its when I have lost the drive to move ahead.




Is it the same for him?




If so, I need to concentrate on helping him find that drive back.




He looked horrible.




Tiredness only leads to more moody episodes.




And the family suffers.




I hope he gets through this soon; I only have this little bit of sanity to stand by.




Oh, but I'm coping.




Thin thread, but coping.




So much randomness to talk about today.




Then there's Isaac. And his issue with sharing.




Sibling rivalry is really quite a hard nut to crack aye?




Isaac is the sensitive one, thus I keep showing my preference to him rather than the toddler.




Yet it is really hard at times when he acts really selfish.




I think its best left to the kids to fight it out and stay out of the rivalry.




Otherwise sides are bound to be taken.




I never remembered not sharing my things with my brother.





In fact, he was the one who thought I had everything and he had none.




I guess as we grew older, he'd realized that he also had everything. Just not the same kind of things I have.




Really, in life, if we could just look at what we have instead of what others have, we'd have realized right from the start that we have all that we need.




And be contented.




Evil engulfs you in the form of thoughts when you look at what others have and want them for yourself.




What's good for others may not necessarily be good for you.




This is what I learned today.




I learn something new everyday.




And when I die, I hope I die a wise man.




One who spreads good and shuns the evil.




I wonder why I'm so unreceptive to religion.




Yet, I think more good comes out of me genuinely then if I had one(a religion).




I'd bet I'd hate this entry when I read it few months down my life.




It's so... cluttered with thoughts.




I need to reorganize my mind.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Ok. So I still can't let go of writing my thoughts down.




You know how the brain keeps self taking until you come to a conclusion that is 90% untrue?




I know it is.





It was just a bad day, lack of sleep, visit to the place that he hates, sick body, bad weather. The likes.




My self talk led the whole episode to a whole new level.




You get sleepy only when you're out with family.




It's only once in a blue moon that I'd ask you for the favor of letting the family visit and you even had the privilege of resting in the room in privacy. I don't understand why you still got grouchy.




You didn't say, how the freaking hell would I know you're hungry? Same goes for the freaking drama on the way to dinner...




Silence, grouchy face, refusal to look at me, rejected my peck on the lips.




Would you think it's something you did wrong if you were in my shoes???




Why would it be wrong for me to break at this freaking point?




I think it's absolutely marveling that I had managed to endure the day till that point.




Oh and I forgot to mention how he stared so hard at me when I put a toy into a half-clean bowl for Ian to play with.




Level of respect for a spouse: zilch.




Oh yes, I should've been grateful that you agreed to that visit. I should have been elated that you didn't flip when we found out that they weren't home.




I was grateful for many things. But does that mean you have the liberty to throw that sour face at me the whole time?




All I wanted was a nice weekend with you and the kids.




Why can't I enjoy this like normal families do without the grouch?




I'm so darn sick of it.




Sometimes even painting a positive picture is tedious if the waves of negativity keep hitting you.




Especially when I'm already standing on rocky grounds.




Sometimes I even suspect that he's secretly trying to push me to the edge so that I'd break.




This is my self talk.




Look at how ridiculous the whole thing turned out to be in my head.




Now you understand how dangerous it is for a woman to be left to her thoughts.




Understanding it, doesn't mean you have to do anything. I get it.




Doing nothing; is, after all, your prerogative.