Thursday, 11 February 2016

The State of Being

Dear Self,
In the spirit of INFJ, I have shared my life's story with Ms Brown. The love, the loathing, the resentments that Ms Brown takes into her one by one.  She is one segmental chick whose brain is sorted out just like how I think.  Everything has to in precision, being practical, having space for possibilities; just like a woman who dons the white coat and sits in the lab, understanding possibilities to assimilate answers.
My spouse seems to be slowly assimilating me into his life as I slowly open up to the first few layers of who I am.  Truth be told, I don't ever know if anyone can really know or understand who I am until they are able to.  And I have no explanation to this statement. Although he tells me now I babble things that will stress me out.  And actually, no.  It's just simple stuffs that I kind of picked up along the way in those garbage bins in my head that seemed timely and appropriately just right to declutter.
Getting back to Ms Brown, she tells me how strong of a person she thought I was when I going through some troubled times.  In her eyes she saw me just placid and calm and I understood what everything meant.  And I thrived pacing into separation, while sitting in the court getting down with the divorce and being an independent person with three little kids.
Truth be told, no, I didn't know. But I understood my environment. And I knew him. I understood him.
Ms Brown said, she never did realize on understanding who her soon to be ex-spouse was. I cannot deny that I'm super complex.  But I saw a little boy in front of me.  I understood his intentions, his heart, his every core of being.
While sitting in court before the marriage was dissolved, I told him:
"You have always carried out what was expected of you. You have always tried to please people, and carry out what they want. You have done this all your life that you don't know what you need, what you want; for yourself. So go, I allow you to go, to be single and figure out what it is you need and have always wanted. Go explore and enjoy life. Be overly happy, and be overly hurt. Be on that journey to find out who you are. And if you're ready to come back, we'll talk about it when the time comes."
For me, it is possibly easy. For others, it may not. People are built differently. So much as such that I am able to think for other people, but I cannot think when the problem is immediately mine. 
It's just funny how life is.
And Dear Ms Brown, I have never received such big compliment before as you say all that you did with all sincerity and glassy eyes that you tried so hard to refrain from pouring. I have never in my life embraced this compliment and felt like I have made a difference and accomplished in life. It is an emotional growth. I know this sense of maturity is priceless. 


Wednesday, 25 November 2015

The Purpose

Truth be told that I have been feeling quite far from God.  I have not been praying and being thankful to what has been given for me to get through this life.  So this emptiness has been jostling my mind and messing up my heart.

So last night I prayed.  I asked for forgiveness and spoke to Him as a friend.  

I have lost the sense of purpose, the sense of wanting to make change and attending work willingly; how I used to love it although my working environment was breaking me bad.  I hope He would return back to me this sense of purpose.  This need for me to fix something.  Or to know that I have done something good to give out of myself.

Then call after call I received this morning.  These were calls of friends reaching the stage of divorce due in court next week.  I feel satisfied when I talk to them with a full heart.  Being able to empower and enable them to see the whole situation the other way round.  Learn to be independent and learn to be fearless.  

Less than an hour after, another called on a complicated beachy friendship issue and I approached the same way.  Leave it when it is toxic.  You don't need toxic waste in your bedroom.  Take it out.  Just trash it, and never to turn back.

While on the phone with the second call, I bumped into another person who is also undergoing the stages of separation whom I haven't seen for almost a month.  So I went up to see her through when I finished with the phone call.  

She is a beautiful person who has gone through a rough time.  Many times before, she couldn't understand what I tried to explain in the ways of the heart how it feels like being able to rely on your own self or going on a date with yourself.  And I am glad that she has been able to see what I have experienced as I grew out the separation stresses.  Now she tells me that she feels empowered with this: 

"To learn that I am the only person who can complete ME; and if another person comes by, it is only for he to complement ME!"

It is the most free feeling.  Fearless.  Beautiful.  Embrace.  Forgive.  Let go.  Resurface.

I personally love each and every one of your beautiful soul.  It takes courage to leave.  It takes courage to move forward.  It takes courage to embrace your own flaws.  This is the ultimate empowerment.  Especially when you are able to forgive yourself.





Simply, absolutely, beautiful.

Friday, 20 November 2015

This Flashback

I have been keeping myself in silo with close friends who end up listening to me vomit out my insecurities as I go through the days and feel nothing great I had done entirely throughout of it.  But the private sessions that I go about has been quite filling and great.  

Aside of the above, I have explored Wordpress for fun and found myself opening compulsively, yet another blog.  I have no idea why.  The compulsiveness and addiction to having so many.  I mean, I am aware that there so many dimensions to my feelings and the things I talk to myself about.  But after being able to identify my personality that I have struggled to understand for almost 40 years, it is just a celebration of embracing myself - yet again.

I can hear the kids screaming upstairs and me, not moving an inch of myself.  

This equation of self.  (Oh God, all that screaming of the kids!)

What I had wanted to write about was the memories that come flashing back to me.  

I remember the time during the divorce, when both he and I were in good terms after of it, the kids would sometimes come to me with the heads hung over my shoulders and thighs.  
"Mummy, we don't want you to be detached with Daddy anymore."
"Yes, Mummy, we don't want you to be broken with him."
"Please reassemble this relationship with him.  We love both of you."
Each time they say this, I felt grounded.  Not really sad, but I accepted what was fated.  I wasn't feeling angry or upset.  Just this corner the heart that rumples itself and hangs itself to dry as I tell them this:
"In our religion, divorce (in its easiest way) is said (decision) by the husband who says it with intent - then the marriage is broken.  It is he too who needs to say it with intent that he wants to denounce the divorce, not the wife (within the woman's 3 period cycle).  And it is too the one who has to say the words with intent to a marriage vow that the two combine.  At this point, it is not I who can decide for what you want.  Just ask from God of what you want and your need, and in time if it is the best thing for you, He will grant it for you.  If not, we accept that your father and I are no longer good to be husband and wife anymore - where we will remain as your parents and remain as friends with each other.  The only difference is we are no longer husband and wife."
And each time, they would keep their heads bowed down and relish my words to heart.  I am thankful that are emotionally matured although their ages then were 5, 7 and 10. 

On the day where I transparently told them that the divorce will happen, the eldest took flight when I asked him if he was alright. Eventually his aunts would find him crying in door corners and keep silent.  I told him that if he wasn't comfortable talking to me, he can speak to his aunts and uncles instead.  It would still be alright.

Then the second child took me by surprise.  I asked him how he felt.  This 7 year old boy told me he was sad, but as things were as that, we would all have to accept it and move on along.  

And the last child listened, hugged me and changes the subject.  To think that she may not understand, she did.  She did so deeply that moved me.  There she would be keeping me strong.  She was my strength then as she is still now.  We would stand at the door waving to that different man I knew as my husband (then) time after time he packs his things to leave; with tears flowing down our cheeks without a sound and then hugging each other tightly when he goes out of sight.

I have not seen my husband for 11 hours at this time.  He has traveled back to his site project this morning just before I left for work.  And my heart tugged, missing him while having dinner.

For all the times I asked God to grant me:
"If it is written that I will be remarried again in the future, please grant me a man who is kind, the one who would love me entirely so much that he appreciates, accepts me as I am and one who will love my children as his own; along side he is able to perform himself as a good husband in Your eyes. And in kindness of his soul, I pray that I will serve well as his wife, as good as he treats me where I will love his soul entirely as You permit me."
I am thankful.  For the divorce.  For the kids.  For the understanding need for change.  For me.  He is the best husband for me.

Truth be told, some things need to be broken down before it can built again.

Wednesday, 4 November 2015

The Silent Hurt

I have been running with memories of late.  Memories that run like slow lava across the cracks of my heart.  Maybe it pours to heal, to show the distance of how far I am now than I was before.

These memories float in as they please.

How when they dress differently can cause deep hurt inside of you.  They no longer appear to how you know them.  Even the glimmer in their eyes don't shine the same.  The cockiness or aura defies all the years of courting and marriage that you have known them.  And this person standing before you to pick up the kids you both made, is completely a whole other person that deletes all the things you know him by heart.

Lost were the days when he lets you stare at his profile and drink in the sensation of his skin.  The one who used to hate it when you try to show affection but you know that he needs.  The person of principle and knew means around only what we could only afford.  

Then looking down at my feet.  I silently felt poor in the material things that I own, while he stood there feeling full of himself.  

But what hurt more was this bitterness of how quickly you lost the person you knew for over 10 years.  No longer appear the same.  No longer smell the same.  No longer feel the same.  No longer have the same core of a person you knew by heart.

That was one of the moments that hurt. 

The silent hurt.

But I lived through it.  And rejoiced with the man who changed.  

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Thought by Itself

I forgot about how free I feel writing here.  So here goes.

From wearing the heart on sleeve and finger tips and eyes and swelling heart, period came sometime last night.  All for the rants' worth of it.  The period came.  But this is no sudden thing.  I am emotionally sensitive that no amount of period will make it different than days without blood pouring out of my vagina.  Okay.  I just sounded psychopathic worthy.  That's not good.

And after having mentioned of being a discard, her birthday is today - so yeay to halting self into a 15-minute passive aggressive composition attempt to wishing her happy birthday.  Okay, I lied.  The 20 seconds quick judgement just brought me from 1980s straight to right now.  So it was a lifetime's worthy of scan that brought to just a 'Happy Birthday and may you be blessed always'.  



Googled HERE



Okay now I feel bad because she responded praying the same for me.  And how does this make me feel like crap?  Complete turnover.  

Then in the mean time, I have gone off to poop, forgetting that I had eaten 1/3 tub of prunes and a mug of coffee (hence the pooping), cleaned the pantry sink, took warm water, then turned it into black coffee and list long of stuffs that was Googled randomly that brought me back to INFJ.

Oh how this personality discovery has opened me to embrace this.  I am not crazy!  I don't have any disorder.  I'm just 1-3% of the world's population!

"2. They respond to your emotions. INFJs may be great listeners, but no matter what you say to them, they are more apt to respond to your emotions than to your words. If you are going on about a problem in your life, your INFJ partner may not seem interested in offering a solution but will jump right into helping you process how you feel about the situation. What starts as a brainstorming event to you may quickly turn into what seems like a therapy session."
Excerpt from "Jennifer Soldner: 5 Signs You Are in a Relationship with an INFJ"

Yes, this could be the reason why many are intrigued about what I have to say.  They like the self-mystery.  But some won't do the work to mend their own floors, walls and windows of their own being.  They have to fix those things, because obviously it is not me who is living their lives.  No such thing to contracting others to do it for you.

And the brain jumps back to work.  The procrastination.  No - the little bit of diversion to gage a whole lot of concentration after this.

I sound sad.  Haha.
But at least now I'm laughing through it.

I am victorious.
...err... After allowing self to drop face down for 5 hours because the remote won't switch the TV on when I press the red button.

(Yeah, I am sad.)