Manifestas

Pet Peeves

2006-08-29T14:50:00.000+08:00

I was in a bus on my way home after the NLS paper yesterday. A primary school boy and his mother sat on the seat in front of me. It was a hot day so the mother told her son to adjust the aircon bulb on top of them so that it would face her.

"I can't reach it," the boy said while stretching his arm.
"Yes, you can. Just climb and stand on the seat," said the mother.

For a while I became appalled by the mother's suggestion. Children standing on seats with their dirty shoes on is my pet peeve. It is inconsiderate for the parents to let them do that, what more suggesting that to them.

So I had just wanted to roll my eyes when the boy looked at his shoes and declined his mother politely in Malay. "Tak nak."

I smiled and whispered to myself, "Good boy,".

===================================

I was crossing the overhead bridge on my way from school and I saw a middle-aged Chinese man sitting on the long seat at the TP bus-stop. His 2 dogs were lying on the seat too. Although they were leashed, I thought it was insensitive of the man to let his dogs get on the public seat. First of all, dogs don't wear shoes. And even if they do, they don't sit like humans do. And even if they do, they pee in public and don't wash after (I know some people don't wash themselves either but that's another story). You get my point.

In that instance I imagined a superhero to educate that uncle and sanitize the seat with his powers. What should I call him? The Sterile Man? Haha..

Whatever

2006-08-19T17:04:00.000+08:00

Phew! What a week! Tests, projects, interviews. Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. After all that, no, it's not done yet. I still have 3 exam papers to go! What amazes me is that - I am NOT stressed! Seriously. My panic attacks are gone! Planning ahead does work. And sometimes it's therapeutic.

Anyway.

Have you ever read blog entries that are written in English but you have no idea what the writer is trying to say? I've just read one a minute ago, and it has given me a headache. I mean, this girl (the writer, a friend) has a vast vocabulary and is witty. But her last entry, the sentences are just strings of words that do not connect. Maybe she's confused. I dunno. And why am I making such a fuss over this? I mean, big deal I've read a crappy entry. So what? Shut Up and Move On!

I think it's the headache.

Oh yes. If I don't answer your call or reply messages, I'm really busy. Teachers' Day, till we meet again!

SHE should have been OUT!

2006-08-04T03:59:00.000+08:00

Dear Voters,

What the HECK is WRONG with you?! Zayra should have been the one in the bottom three. She should be the one to be kicked out from Rock Star, not Dana (or any others)! Gahh! Not another week of her sucky singing and cocky costume!

Oh well.

On a happier note, most of the rockers did a splendid job. Especially Ryan. And I love Josh's rendition of Sublime's Santeria. *Supremely Sumblimically Splendid* My favourite female rocker, Dilana, rocked a spectacular performance. As usual. Even if she'd end up not fronting the band, I'd still buy her album. ROCK ON, BEBEH! \m/

Apa Dah Jadi?

2006-07-31T13:46:00.000+08:00

I was browsing some photos from Multiply and it just saddens me to see that ~~Malay/Muslims~~ people are exhibiting their booze and their privates all over the internet. I'm not some preacher nor am I the queen of all moralists. But it's feels so wrong. It's just wrong. If you say I'm not fun, so be it. I like my own fun, where there are no alcohol reek, no accidental outbursts of emotions, no puke, no accidental f*cking around and no accidental conception and no accidental STDs. If you say I'm do not appreciate art, you're wrong. I appreciate the human form. I love looking at the wonders that God has created. But the stuffs that are all over the internet are just porn, not art! I mean, what's up with posing topless with mini-skirts san the undies at Marina? (If you haven't seen it yet, the photo is widely disseminated through e-mails).

And what telah happen to the beauty of marriage? Where two souls finally merge, where two bloods mix? Why do the parents of baby Sh.il.oh. so looked up upon especially after its birth? Where has the beauty gone? The meaning of it all? The purity of the union?

*silence*

For the core of destruction lies in the heart.

Blog Hopped

2006-07-29T07:34:00.000+08:00

(almost) Everybody's FAT!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!

Eat THAT, suckers!

Service the Services

2006-07-24T06:56:00.000+08:00

I've been shopping around for my wedding needs lately and I have just one thing in mind - What's up with the crappy service, man? It's like they're all over!

I went to a furniture shop somewhere in Defu Lane yesterday evening to look for a mattress. Unfortunately for me and Apek, this clueless Ah-Soh served us. She asked what kind of mattress we were looking for. So we showed her the newspaper cutting of the $399 mattress they showcased.

"What size you want?"
"King size."
"King size finish already. You want Queen size?"
*speechless*

Hello, auntie. If I wear XL panties, you don't expect me to wear a size M, right?

"No, we want King size.", Apek said.
"King size finish already. You want this one? $499.", pointing at another mattress.
*calculate budget*
"You try lah. Pocketed spring. $499 only. You want what size?"
"King(!), king(!).."
"King one $499."
"Is the delivery free?", Apek asked.
"Yah, delivery free. So you want what size?"

GAH!!! Macam nak jotos-jotos aje kepala nyonya ni! Nasib baik nasib dia baik.

So in the end we walked out of the shop without aknowledging anyone. The Ah-Soh was very ah-soh lah. She served us in an irritating manner and she kept cleaning her teeth with her tongue making that "i'm-vacuuming-my-teeth-in-betweens" sound. Disgusting!

Aside this Ah-Soh incident, there were two more encounters with *incredible* services. One was an online card/favors company. Made fantastic promises yet disappeared twice when I wanted to confirm my order. They gave an excuse that they were short-handed. Hello? I'm a consumer, and consumers don't care.

Another was this make-up artist. Called her on a Monday to ask whether I could have her service for December.
"Oh, I'll call you to confirm. I need to check my schedule."
Monday through Thursday, no call. So I called her on Friday.
"Oh, I haven't call you, is it?"

Beb, lu suffer concussion kaper?

"I haven't gone to my office to check my schedule. I call you tomorrow, boleh (can)?"

Boleh... Bolehhh boleehhhh... Boleh BLAH!!

Till now, she hasn't called yet. Very unprofessional, both the card company and the make-up artist. I mean, korang tak nak duit ke? Don't want money? Both attitude sum up to one - Janji Melayu.

I seriously think that no matter how small your business is, you should strive to provide a good service for your customers. This, especially, applies to all Malay wedding service providers too. Memanglah, kita mesti sokong perniagaan bangsa kita. Tapi, peniaga-peniaga pun mestilah efficient dan bersikap professional. Barulah bisnes awak boleh maju..

"Eleh, awak takde kedai. Mana awak tau?"

Stop being cynical, makcik.

Re-written

2006-07-11T02:10:00.000+08:00

Guess. I spoilt my Mentallika blog account after months trying to log in. Pfft. It was for the best I think. Coz those nothing-better-to-do spammers kept leaving irrelevant comments and tag messages. I managed to save my previous posts, though. Had wanted to discard them but I thought it was interesting to read what I wrote during my period of emotional recovery.

*blank*

So sleepy lah. The traffic is dead slow on the Neuron Expressway. Later.

Sweet

2006-01-08T03:36:00.000+08:00

“My colleague asked me what my resolution is for 2006. I thought of you and I said, “I wanna get married,”.”

Sigh. Supremely diabetically sweet.

Post Dialysis

2005-12-20T03:36:00.000+08:00

Well, well. The last entry was a tad harsh coming from a nice and sweet girl like me. What can I say? Being nice 24-7 can put me in the risks of blood disorder, heart attack and maybe a brain haemmorhage. So things like the last entry was kinda like a dialysis.

Anyways, I was given 3 thumbs up (out of 3, mind you) for my brownies. Maybe I should bake more (and sell. nyeh, nyeh!). Seems like I am a Lifestyle Diva afterall, underneath it all. Just need to brush up on my skills.

I feel so blessed.

On a duller note, my left ear’s not functioning normally. The hearing’s kinda dull (do I see a dejavu?), like when I’m in the aircraft. Only that it doesn’t pop itself when I yawn. It kinda sucks. Correction. It totally SUCKS! I think I got nerve problem. Heh, doesn’t surprise me at all.

*

Hmm, I’m suddenly reminded of an old hag who doesn’t seem to understand or accept that she’s not always right. She’s SO politically incorrect, emotionally deranged and psycopathic. She’s totally in denial. She should watch 6 months of Oprah straight.

Dang, I feel like killing someone.

*

Ok, time for my Oprah.

*

I like Oprah. And Suze Orman. They’re sensible women.

*

Insensible: Why are there a lot of naked girls around? There’s something called modesty, you know.

*

Now where are the naked guys?

Simply Sinful and the Boom Bang Bla-blahs

2005-12-19T03:34:00.000+08:00

I’ve been unwell and pretty weak this few days so I decided to just stay home. Usual me, I was craving for a pandan cake when I saw one on TV. So I decided to bake a cake. Alas, no pandan essence. So I decided to bake some brownies. Searched for a recipe on the internet, did some minor changes and VOILA! Presenting…

“Iz So Sinful” Brownies

Ingredients:
175g butter
1 & 1/2 cup white sugar
1.5 tsp vanilla extract
3 eggs
3/4 cup flour
180g semi-sweet cooking chocolate
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2-3 tbsp chopped almonds, roasted

Method:
1. Preheat oven to 180Celcius. Grease 1×8 baking tin.
2. Melt butter and chocolate by double-boiling.
3. Mix sugar and vanilla extract in a bowl. Add the melted ingredients and mix thoroughly.
4. Beat one egg at a time into the mixture.
5. Sift flour and baking powder into the mixture. Add almonds and salt. Mix.
6. Pour mixture into baking tin. Bake for 40-45 minutes.

WARNING: High sugar alert!

Yum for those sweet toothies, though!

For extra sinful bites, add chocolate chips or top those brownies with caramel topping. Oooooh La La…

Try it lah..

*

Gawd, the sugar makes my head bleed! H..E..L..P..

*

I think I enjoy my counselling sessions. Except that I feel awkward when she praises me and stares at me. What’s she thinking?! Anyway, after watching Oprah for like a few months now, I finally begin to realise the reasons why I’m such an underachiever although my potential is up there waiting for me to encompass the universe. Tell me something. Can I actually hate my parents? They turn me into shit and I have to clear up their mess?!

*

“Now, now. I’m gonna leave you on your own climbing that education ladder. I don’t care how you’re gonna learn your things or what your problems are but at the end of the day, you must get an A. Or else I’d have to pinch you. I don’t care how confused you are being a teenager, but you’ve certainly caused me shame when you played truant. Now, now. I don’t care if I’ve not brought you up and I don’t wanna know what your problems are and I don’t care if you need any attention. You just have to get As, be a good kid and make me proud. Stop threatening me with the idea of quitting school! Quit school and not a single cent from me! What?! You got a job as an admin assistant?! That’s an absolute disgrace! What?! You be a full-time tutor and earn a mere $1000?! That’s madness! Bla bla bla.. Oh, thank God you’ve chosen to be a teacher. I’m so proud. I should be proud. I’m your parent. And all credits should be mine. Oh God, there you go again. Depression? When are you going to graduate? When are you finally going to earn? When can I retire from my job?”

FARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m OPPRESSED and SUPPRESSED thus DEPRESSED by you stupid jerks!

*

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

*

My Way of Life encourages me to love my parents. So, how ah? How can I wash this deep intense negative emotion I have of them ah? Use Fab can or not ah? TV say “Pu Ke Neng. Pu Ke Neng. Fab Ke Neng.” (I know, it looks offensive especially the “Pu Ke” part. It simply means “Impossible. Impossible. Fab possible.)

*

I know. Wash my heart with prayers, right?

*

I heard someone say, “No matter how much you hate your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.” Was it from TV?

*

I LOVE TV. It teaches me Mandarin and it makes me smart. Discovery Travel & Living - Oh, I absolutely adore.

*

I should stop my crap here.

On Forgiveness

2005-11-25T03:34:00.000+08:00

I know of a woman who wasn’t in good terms with her siblings. Both parties have their own flaws and faults but, anyway, that’s out of the story. The woman was admitted into the hospital one day and since then her siblings made peace with her. As they say, kindness doesn’t always get repaid with kindness. She said, “Oh, that’ll be only temporary. Give them some time and they’ll be in bad terms with me again.” And, in the blinded eyes of many people, this woman is supposed to be staunch in her religion. Staunch, my foot! She continued, “I can forgive but I can never forget.” (I hate that phrase. It’s so ironic! How can you forgive if you cannot forget? It’s obvious that the act is not forgiven since it cannot be forgotten. Forget about forgiving if you cannot forget.)

It irks me when people give lifetime punishments for mere mistakes. I mean, how many “sorry”s does it take for one to forgive someone? How many acts of remorse and regret does it take for one to put the differences aside? Yeah, certainly the severity of the mistakes must be taken into consideration. But you don’t expect someone to apologize for his whole life just because of a measly mistake. It’s not as if you’re God.

(I’ll add to this space, at a later time, something I saw on Oprah that has touched my heart. Am too sleepy now, teehee..)

Therefore, mean it when you accept any “maaf zahir batin” or apologies. It simply purifies the heart. Literally too, I guess. Coz when you truly forgive a person, you’d tend to forget the bad past. Not remembering the bad past leads to a calm and stable heart rate coz you don’t think about stuffs that make your blood boil. Also, blood pressure is maintained. Lowers the incidence of heart attack! (Me and my theory. How true is it - you do the science..)

*Just in case you’re wondering - No, that woman is not my sibling. Not related either. Thank God!

Things Thought and Learnt

2005-11-23T03:33:00.000+08:00

3 months ago: The counsellor asked how bad I wanted the diploma. I answered “desperately badly” without even thinking whether I wanted it or not. I was being referred to a therapist and was prescribed prozacs.

2 months and 2 weeks ago: Mom got married. Again. I stopped my medication and refused to go for my therapy and counselling sessions. I avoided a lot, and I mean A LOT, of people and I kept to myself most of the time.

2 months ago: I was serious on not going back to TP and had researched on courses that I would be happy in. Also, I’d planned my finance for the future - debts, bills, etc.

1 month & 3 weeks ago: I was offered a job at my uncle’s office.

1 month & 2 weeks ago: I quitted my job upon learning that my uncle opened a vacancy out of sympathy for me.

1 month ago: I spent about a whole month looking for jobs that I could do while paying my bond & part-time education after my deferment is over. I picked up an inspirational card from a shop in Eastpoint that said something like “courage is to pick yourself up from where you had fallen”. I thought it was all crap and I continued to be dishonest to myself.

1 week ago: I learnt that the only jobs that I could do with my current qualification are crappy customer service, crappy admin jobs, crappy temp data-entry and more crappy shit. I said to myself that I don’t wanna do crappy things for crappy people just to earn a crappy life for myself.

5 days ago: I became madly confused that I almost wanted to call the MOE officer to say that I wanna quit and please just gimme a job so I can pay my bond for $400/month for 10 years coz I’m sick of thinking about it and I just want to get it done and over with. I became obsessed into believing that it would be impossible to continue in TP coz I’ve “severed ties” with my therapist and counsellor and in order to start in April 2006 would to send a doctor’s letter to the Registrar 2 months prior stating that I would be OK to start school. Plain impossible. Full stop.

4 days ago: I realised that 1 year is simply too short..

3 days ago: ..and that 1 year is all it takes for me to get it over and done with in TP. And that’d be it. The next step would just be another year. And that would be another story. I got another job assisting doctors in a specialist clinic. A day was all it took for me to see that although people may be angry with the doctor for taking so long to examine a patient, the spit would always be on the assistant. I learnt another oxymoronic word - patient.

2 days ago: The question that the counsellor asked came back to me - how bad do I want the diploma. I realised the answer that I gave her back then wasn’t the answer to her question. Rather it was an answer to the question how bad my parents and people around me wanted me to have the diploma. About the job, I sorta like it a bit (coz it involves science) but it simply was uncomfortable wearing a short “nurse” dress in public after covering for like, YEARS. Also, it wasn’t as if I needed to support anyone or pay for anything except for myself, so why should I kick aside my belief & principle just to submit to crappy uniform regulations to please people’s eyes (although it might not be pleasing to see me in short skirt, trust me.) and to earn $6.50/hour?!

***

I started to think about how things have been quite a joke for me. About how complex the mind and heart work things out just to get a consensus, just to get to a simple solution. Suddenly everything starts to be clear. I’ve not been to therapy sessions, so what? I can always schedule an appointment, continue regular sessions, be medically healthy and get the doctor’s approval. I’ve been avoiding my counsellor who had been wanting to give me money for medication, so what? I can call to apologize for not appreciating the extent that she had gone to just to keep me going, I can schedule an appointment to have regular conversations and she would give a positive review of me to my lecturers. Lecturers giving me the “this-girl’s-got-no-hope” look, so what? To gain respect is to earn it. Whose fault is it if I don’t do well?

It’s not just about the diploma. It’s about reputation. My reputation. My abilities and capablities. My effort. The shit that I’ve went through. The proudest moments. The time wasted and fulfilled. The jobs that I can get. The money that I can get. The future that I can build. Most importantly, the future that I want I can build.

I look forward to school now. Genuinely.

Lost

2005-11-13T03:32:00.000+08:00

Should I reminisce the sacrifices; the ups and downs, the love, the cat fights and the cat calls; to move on up the ladder seems so impossible for me.

Should I seek the brighter future for a more fulfilling life, it seems impossible to develop our current to our future.

If only we could walk hand-in-hand and pursue the vision together.

I need 10 days alone. Seriously.

Ha-ha-happy

2005-08-26T02:31:00.000+08:00

I still have trouble sleeping at night but I’ve decided not to be dependant on those sleeping pills. Usually I’d wake up in the afternoon and, by that time, my body would feel icky and smell undeniably horrible. In another word, masam. Today, however, I woke up at 9am just in time to catch the results for Rockstar:INXS. Glad Jordis is still in (although I was very much disappointed at her performance last night. was very impressed with Suzie. thumbs up! not that she would ever read that but, heck!). Phew!

I had a shower at 11.25am and I felt fresh and smelt good. It was exhilarating! (you must understand - I’ve not been showering before 4pm since last week. and it’s “izwatically” proven - sticky body = lazy body :roll: ) Needed a feel-good movie so I watched Legally Blonde. Hurhur.. My VCD rack - limited. *flicks hair*

Wordless.

Have I told you I feel happy? Correction. HAPPY! *sings The Oddfellows’ So Happy* Maybe it’s the pills. Maybe I read Bridget Jones instead of Prozac Nation last night. Happy or not, both ways I’m crazy! Wooopieeeee!!

Oh yes. Even though I’ve donned it, I still think short skirt rules. To hell with big and hairy thighs! Woooooppieeeee!!! *ballets with short denim skirt around the house*

*clap clap clap* So exciting!

Word is Weapon

2005-08-25T02:29:00.000+08:00

Reading Prozac Nation feels like my mind is being dissected like a hypnotised animal and black liquid is poured into it. Liquid that is in its purest form yet so crude. Liquid that covers every groove in my brain and encapsulate every atom of my sanity. My eyes yearn to cry with the unbearable truth of the book yet my mouth itches to laugh at its negativity. It nestles my flaws with its comforting mortar but pounds and crushes my conscience with an invisible pestle.

Everytime I shut the book, the crude liquid congeals and ooze through the cavities of my skull, and exit through my nostrils as phlegm. Sanity embraces me and my head feels lighter. I smile at the phrase Happiness is a choice.

Still, the book haunts me and convinces me to continue reading its contents. And the cycle is repeated. Over and over again.

It’s been 2 days without the pills. I think they really help me.

Labyrinth and Coils

2005-08-22T02:27:00.001+08:00

The mind is a labyrinth
where pieces of sanity scatter
and hide in every corner

where answers can be so detailed
yet can be so discreet

where the ultimate stands still
and the organic constantly metamorph to what the heart wills

***

The pressure is too great
that it paralyses the head
Uncoil it! Uncoil it!

Weary

2005-08-22T02:27:00.000+08:00

I’ve been ordering McD’s and Pizza Hut’s deliveries for weeks. It’s unhealthy, I know. But I feel like a lazy freak who refuses to walk to the nearby shops. A lazy freak who refuses to even walk. Sometimes I can’t even make toast for myself anymore. If I’m not at all hungry, I bet I can’t even chew. And that would be a good thing because I’d shed some weight from my body. Then again, it would still be pointless because it wouldn’t shed any weight from my heart.

I watched like a retard as Apek cleaned and mopped my house. My mind told me to help but my body was too paralysed to do anything. It was insane. I felt like a vegetable. I felt like a rotten vegetable that has been stepped and crushed by millions of shoes. Maybe it was one of my swings. Maybe it was due to lack of sleep last night. Maybe, maybe.

***

3.30am countdown:
Tick goes the clock
Blink goes my eye
Tire fills the body
Fire filths the mind

Pop goes the pill
Sleep may I will

Calmer

2005-08-19T02:27:00.000+08:00

I wondered why I was easily agitated these few days (especially yesterday when I really couldn’t control my rage. the truth is, I didn’t really mean what I wrote. *sigh*). Dr T told me that it was due to the increase in my medication dosage. So there was no cause to worry. She examined me earlier this morning and gave me positive remarks about my condition. Overall, I’ve improved. She hasn’t allowed me to go job-hunting yet because I’m still not quite stable (ref: yesterday’s entry. the third last one to be specific). I told her about the hallucination and expected some theories from her. Too bad. She merely nodded and noted it in my case booklet.

I headed down to CGH after my appointment to get four weeks of prozacs. As usual, being lazy and it was raining bla bla bla, I took a cab. I realised that the driver’s name was “Chee Kuai”, meaning “strange” in Mandarin. And I thought, very chee kuai indeed.

All in all, today was an OK day for me. I ended my outdoors with a plate of Banquet’s grilled dory with rice.

Have I mentioned that it is my favourite?

Dejavu of Yesterdays

2005-08-18T02:26:00.000+08:00

It just feels like yesterday. Yesterday when I saw them at the breakfast table about 7am. Yesterday when he poked his index finger lightly on her shoulder. Yesterday when I heard him laugh and saw her smile.

It just feels like yesterday. Yesterday when I was a brat who woke her up when she snored just because I couldn’t sleep with the nasal orchestra. And I was the brat who woke her up just because I couldn’t sleep after watching a scary show. And I was the brat who was always thankful she would wake up without complaints to chat with me in the wee hours of the night.

It just feels like yesterday. Yesterday when he would make silly faces at me when I looked at him. When he would fart and blamed me for it. And he would laugh about it. And I would laugh too because I would fart after him. And she would also laughed.

It sure feels like yesterday. Yesterday when she was suddenly weak. And when she grew stronger, I thought there was hope. Hope for me to be able to do more for her. But her toes went as pale as sheet, as cold as ice. I rubbed her arm and called her gently. Her eyes that had suddenly turned lifeless and grey was trying to search for me. I tried to hide my tears even though I knew she couldn’t see me. I tried to hide my tears even though I could sense it was time.

It sure feels like yesterday. Yesterday when the walking stick had lost its purpose. Yesterday when their room became his room. And he filled it with smoke. Smoke so thick, it couldn’t even fade or hide his sadness. His loneliness. His love.

Empty.

It sure feels like yesterday. Yesterday when he made me laugh for the last time. His face looked different; his skin fairer, his eyes puffy. But I didn’t sense anything. I last saw his smile at the bookshop where I left him. And the next thing I knew, he laid on the dry tiles of the bathroom like a sleeping child. He left. And he left alone.

For both moments, my heart felt as though it had been trampled on. It felt as though it had been squished and life was slowly oozing out of it. What was left was just a lifeless prune - so small, so sour. My body trembled uncontrollably. My breathing was full of hiccups. My throat became thick as though it was full of lava of bitterness. My soul cried without an end.

It was just yesterday. Yesterday that I felt like that again. Like what I had felt many times. The only difference was that I didn’t pretend that I was strong. I let my self be weak. I let my self weep with my soul. I wept and I cried out loud that I miss them so much. I miss my grandparents so much.

It was yesterday that I cried a lot. And somehow I felt comforted.

Present: Tense!

2005-08-17T02:25:00.000+08:00

They are talking about me. And it’s driving me crazy. They said they are concern about me. And they are discussing about me. They are talking about me. I cannot stand it. Why can’t they just shut up? Why must they make it as though my life is so mysterious that they need to analyse and talk about me?

They don’t know me. They DO NOT know me.

So what if I’m unwell? So what if I’m crazy?

Does that make me an idiot that you can discuss about my issues openly in front of me? Why can’t you talk behind my back? Why must you make me the subject every time you meet? WHY?!

Why do you treat me like an idiot? Why do you treat me like a crazy person? Why do you see me as something foreign? Why do you see me as something so pathetic in your pathetic little eyes and pathetic little mind?

I do not need any sympathy if this is the disgrace that I get. I do not need any sympathy if you think that respect is the last thing I need.

I do not need you to talk about me.

Stop repeating and repeating and repeating!!!

Just shut up!!!

Bouts of Surrealism

2005-08-15T02:24:00.000+08:00

I went swimming yesterday. Usually, I would swim with my goggles on but, because the scorching heat of the Sun made the area around my eyes prickly, I just had to take it off and let the pool water cool my whole face. And so I saw the serenity as I submerged in the water. The ripples were waving smoothly as though they were dancing a slow and organised dance. It was vacuum underneath but I could hear the peace the water was whispering. Still underwater, I held my breath and let my body float. It was calm and nothing else mattered.

Surreal.

Just like when I see illusions when I know I’m awake. Calming voices that speak go straight to my ears without travelling through space. Subtle aroma that tingles my nose, I can never find its source. Maybe life is a little bit crazy and it is hard to believe. But it is what it is now.

She once told me in my dream - whatever it is, never say a thing. Maybe this is what it is for.

On Life

2005-08-12T02:23:00.000+08:00

Life is simple. But it is never easy.

Smelt the Morning

2005-08-11T02:22:00.000+08:00

Boy, it felt really good to smell the fresh morning! I had not enjoyed morning like this ever since my routine of waking up in the late noon. Although my mood wasn’t that fantastic, I decided to drop by the gym to perk myself up.

I started my workout with the treadmill and bicycle. Bad for me, my stamina hasn’t improved. Much due to me being cooped up in the room most of the days like one fat timid dracula. (also due to the loss of serotonin, I guess) Although it wasn’t at all fun walking and cycling, I tried to boost my spirits by imagining this svelte figure that I am so dying for. For that, I managed to complete a mere 20 mins on each item. I ended my gym session with Belly Bhangra. It was not so much of the belly but hell of a Bhangra it was! Wish there were more but time did not permit.

I dropped by TP to return a library book and had to pay the fine in order to have my deferment approved. I gave the receipt to the clerk at OSC. She asked how long was my deferment. I said, about a year. “Medical?” she asked. I nodded. She said, “take care.”

Take care. It took just two words to make my day.

She

2005-08-10T02:21:00.000+08:00

Only once she had told me of her experience. It happened when she was in her early 30s. She did not leave her house for almost a month and she had left it dark for as long as she was unwell. She was afraid of meeting people. She heard voices. Voices that told her that those people were bad, mean and evil. While others were scared and ignored her condition, there were kind souls who recited Quranic verses and performed prayers so that she could be well again and that the house would not be inhabited by syaitaan.

I believe her atrociously hard life lead her to be that way. I am lucky that I have some support, if not many, and that medical advances allow me to heal faster. She did not have anyone to turn to and there was no medical help for her recovery. Still, she recovered well and she was saner than most normal people. Most inspiringly, she was emotionally stronger than most.

Today was supposedly her birthday. Since her birthdate wasn’t stated in her I/C, we decided 9th August to be her birthday, in collaboration with National Day. Never did I imagine that was the only cake I would buy for her. She didn’t like the taste, but ate anyhow. For that, and many other things, I love her.

Happy National Day.

First Dose

2005-08-06T02:18:00.000+08:00

Miraculously, I woke up at 9am just in time for my medication. Nurse O reminded me to eat before popping those pills. I wanted to eat bread with margarine but I’ve run out of margarine. I heated a portion of some leftover fried macaroni in the fridge. Tasted yuck but I finished it anyway. I walked my room and saw a McDonalds pamphlet. Darn! Why didn’t I see that earlier? I looked through the pamphlet. No! I have to stop bingeing! Argggh! Freak it!

“Welcome to McDonalds. May I have your order?”
“Yes. I’d like to have a Big Breakfast Meal with the drink changed to iced Milo. I’d also like to have pancakes, ala-carte.”

I didn’t manage to finish all the food. I had left 2 remaining pancakes and a hashbrown for lunch. It was already 10.20am by the time I took my pills. “Remember, the pills will make you sleepy. Don’t worry. You can sleep a bit.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. I thought.

By noon, I was battling to keep my eyes open. With heavy rain, cool weather, heavy meal, drowsy medicine, what more excuses do I need to sleep?

At night, I popped a sleeping pill with 2 accompanying pills. All it took was half an hour. I had never felt THAT drowsy before. Boy, I slept well. And I was proud I could wake up at 7am.

Dr T also mentioned that the medicine suppresses my appetite. Bye-bye binges.

Consultation Uno

2005-08-04T02:14:00.000+08:00

I went up to the 6th floor and looked for the clinic. There it was. For a moment I stared at the wooden door. It wasn’t the door that I was staring at. It was the word “Psychiatrist”. Never in my life had I imagined myself talking to one although sometimes I proclaim myself as a psychotic. Maybe my wish had come true.

I looked at Apek. Words just cannot describe how I appreciate him being there with me. I’d almost wanted to ask, “you tak malu ke nak kawin orang gila?” but I decided to keep the dark humour to myself. “Come in, come in,” Nurse O said as though welcoming us to a party. The clinic was small. There was a bench big enough for two. Or maybe three small-bottom ones. While Apek broke the ice with Nurse O, I could hear voices behind the closed doors of the consultation room. Even so, I felt as though I was in a vacuum and no one else was there except for me.

In the consultation room, Dr T assessed my level of depression and prescribed me some medicine for serotonin build-up. In a word, prozac. At that point of time, I felt as though I was a highly unstable ion which could break loose anytime. And I thought, am I that complicated?

Dr T asked whether my memory had worsened. I told her that my memory is pretty much ok except that I tend to be slower in thinking and have difficulty in expressing myself. “Ok, so there’s a retardation lah.” Retardation. At a glance, it seemed quite demoralising. Nevertheless, retardation it was.

Apek told me I appeared lost after the consultation.

Apek: So where shall we eat?
Me: (oblivious to what comes out from mouth) I dunno.
Apek: Ok, let’s eat at Habibie.
Me: Hmmm.. Ok.
Me: (disappointed and grumpy; craves sup buntut from Far East)
Apek: Why?
Me: Hmm, actually I felt like eating sup buntut.
Apek: Why didn’t you say so?
Me: I told you I wanted to eat at Far East after the consultation.
Apek: I asked you where you wanna eat and you said you dunno. So I suggested Habibie.
Me: No, I didn’t say I dunno.
Apek: (convincingly) You did..

Sheesh man. Am I really retarding?

The Verdict

2005-08-03T02:14:00.000+08:00

Before entering the counselling room, I’d thought that my years in TP would come to an end and that I would be damned from entering NIE. I remember what Theresa wrote in the email, “your lecturer will discuss with you the implications of staying and continuing the course..”; and I remember about Dr V saying, “once you have a record in IMH, MOE would know and there would be problems.” I still do not know what the “would be problems” are but I guess it has to do with removal from the course. Although I had mentioned that I was ready to quit and face the bond, the truth is, I was and still am unsure.

I walked in the room to meet both Theresa and Dr V with an open heart. I just hoped for the best and I knew that if this career is for me, it is for me no matter how hard I try to run away from it; if it isn’t, then this is the end of the TP road for me.

We talked. We discussed. And she let out the verdict - “I recommend a 9-month deferment from school.” I was like, woah! Serious, ka pa? Boleh sempat branak kau tau?! It’s amazing that they’re helping me like nobody’s business. I mean, I feel so touched. *sob sob*

Tomorrow is my appointment with Dr T. She would assess my state and see whether or not I need any medication. I hope things will be good.

Unwell

2005-07-26T02:12:00.000+08:00

I am never suicidal but, as I lie in bed, I sometimes feel as though blood is draining slowly from my right wrist. When that happens, often my body feels listless. My mind becomes aimless. My self turns completely helpless, as though waiting for the vulture of time to rip me apart bit by bit, pain after pain.

Suddenly when memories of my loved ones flashes across my mind; when I recall of people dead at my age; when I picture the wasted lives on the street; I realise that life is too short. Life is just too short for me to spend it away doing nothing. Although I am in a state of confusion now, I know I do not want to live in regrets.

I emailed Theresa saying that I might need deferment. She said I might need treatment. Whatever it is, I really want to get well soon. Wish me all the best.

Oh yes. I think there are two types of patients in IMH. One is the really crazy type. Another is the deep thinker. Maybe I fall in the latter group. Haha. If that makes me happy. Whatever.

“I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell.”
Unwell, Matchbox Twenty