Perspective of Home

This morning Phillip Phillips' song came on. I've always loved that song. It triggers the membrane for some awesome journey in life I had somehow. Telling wounded souls that they'll be fine and just bear with me so we can heal together. But then somewhere in the song, I felt broken.

Home, the title of this song, came into air in the late 2012 and early 2013. I was so hopeful to keep him in me. Him. The X. Then. Funny how after so many years all these memories still come to haunt me and make me feel broken like a wave hitting the rocks, and the rock that holds all the other rocks in the sea, breaks in the bottom. Yes, that is exactly how it feels. Broken beneath the sea. A place where no one can see or feel. 

I pushed myself to sing the song again, line by line. The crack ran deeper. I decide to stop the cracking and changed my own perspective. The song was about telling MYSELF to bring MYSELF home - which I did, and therefore blessed and thankful for.

Funny ain't it how smell, sight and sound can make or break your day? 

But then again, you too can make the change by turning into a different degree of your perspective. Only sometimes, you need time to gage and find ways how to bring yourself out of the waters. 

Funny too how in current times, nothing else is affected. It's just my brain calling. Emotional growth. Emotional range and understanding of how far I've expanded, experienced, learned, grown and healed.

Like how it is said, God will not test you for something you cannot carry.

It was never a lie.

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. 

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.

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.

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.  

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.)

Head Menopause

How long have I dwell in this feeling that the ones that I like, don't like me; whilst the ones I can't stand, just wants to stick like glue?

Intriguing how each time I do want to speak to her, I fear of rejection.  Shoved off.  Silence.  All those that makes you feel worthless.  The very thing that Scorpions are so good at.  That.  It's sad for me, just plain sad, at the same time.  I keep wondering what is it about this relationship that I'm still stuck on, like what am I looking forward to?  What is it that I hope from it?  What is that I expect from her?

Our lives are built differently.  I know that she is meant to help people with big emotional upheaval kind of thing, and she leaves when things are better.  That is the story of her life cycle.  She is meant to appear in your life to help you through roughness of life.  When I was going through crap of uber nastiness that turned my life upside down for an intense 3 years, it was so easy to see, go out and connect with her.  When things turned out for the better, we saw each other lesser and communicated lesser.  But then I seem to have begun offending her.  She stopped responding to my messages altogether.  She stopped liking anything I posted online.  And eventually, I did the same.  Just because I feel hurt and I wear my heart on my sleeve.  And she would know that and will not give you credit for it - because, why would she? 

But truth be told, I try to reconnect with her on many levels.  I tried so hard that I began overthinking and each time the attempts seem to have worsen whatever it was that we had.  

So, this evening, light heartedly I thought: 

Hey, I could tell her that I've discovered my 4-Letter personality that is intriguing for me, and it feels like home each time I get into articles about it.  And I'm just sharing it with you coz it's interesting and relateable with the stuffs that we talked about before.

I ended the text dismissing myself that I don't expect for her to respond the message.  Which is sad because I just realised that I had subconsciously done that to buffer my own heart from being hurt from being disengaged from her life.

Aih.  Now I really feel like some idiotic crap trying to have this split in between invisible, appearing, teleporting and leaping into a different time zone altogether.

I feel like crap now that I've lost it altogether.

The message when through with two green ticks but no response. 

(Pause)

I am crap.  So I shall lay on the ground and stay still until something happens to that would make me want to move or do something.

A Little Dose of Life's Benadryl

I am, as person, like a dose of Benadryl.  It's either you get a strong dose of the medicine, the medicine is ignored or it will put you to sleep.

Yes, sincerely and truthfully, I am an extremely boring person.  I don't even post photos and write only when I feel like it.  And I actually have more than 3 blogs that is random to fit what I feel at that time of writing.  When I am almost pure to myself, I communicate in English.  Maybe that's why I am more direct as a person.  Like, if you are sick and just sitting there looking at me, I will offer you come medicine.  I give as you need.  But if you need higher dosage, I will increase it as it should.

But here's the thing.  Not everyone can see, face or understand what they think they are facing because judgement and own personal strength (weak or egoistic) clouds and overwhelms them.  So if the area is familiar, I will help to guide you.  But you will need to get through the stormy seas yourself.  Bikos no one else can do that for you.  The sea is your own emotions and the ship is your own being.

The ride will be rougher when you start complaining about the things that makes your ship rocky and start blaming everybody else on the weather, the rocks, the birds that poop on your ship among every other thing.  

Then I question:  

1. Do you want to get through this storm, or do you want to stay there and just blame everything else? 

My support: I listen, filter and sift through nonsense and shortcuts.  I will tell you what I assess through, quite straightforward.

2. Don't you want to see what is broken on your ship that is making you feel impaired to move?

My support: We approach it depending on your behavioural feedback. The more your struggle, the more direct my responses be.  We don't need laces and vibrant paint colours to fix the ship.  We need wood, panels, nails and hammers.  Nobody said this process is easy.  But I will help support you.

3. Let us identify what is broken and we get it fixed. 

My support: But I'm not on the ship.  You are.  I will help guide you so you know how to fix yourself the next time around and be proud of this knowledge. 

I am sorry that I'm not diplomatic.  Whenever I try, it becomes something else tiresome because it doesn't fix the problem.  It only buffers it and may divert to turn into another problem, or a whole length of it.

It takes years to undo self, and years to learn/implement new habits.  It takes a lot to ACCEPT and EMBRACE yourself.  To FORGIVE self, and accept your self-flaws.  To FORGIVE everyone else that has come across your path.  I never said this was an easy.  But you've got to stop blaming other people for your own life's failure.  You always have an option to get help.  But be sincere in wanting to change.  Identifying what to change.  And making effort to improve your life.

This is just how I feel.

This is just something from me.

If only some people are able to see the views of other people instead of blaming how wrong and negative people who are trying to help you.  

There is no such things as coincidence.  God puts the right people in your path, for you.

Reality Bites in the Arse

Truth be told I woke up weaving in and out of sleep literally being awake and sleeping 20-30 minutes each time, throughout this morning.  So I developed a headache.  Or perhaps I was weaving sleep because I had headache.  

So I tried to take my time getting ready for work.  I bathed and cleaned every nook and cranny of by body.  Then looking at self, I actually attempted to come to work without bra on today.  Well, I put the bra-singlet thing on and felt comfortable in it.  But there was a "WTF?!" moment and so I came to the office in a proper bra on.

I am still having headaches through the morning.  It has been quite a stressful day that I have not been getting much done where instead I would weave through the internet for some self-distraction, which really does me a lot of good, actually.  Err.  At least that is what I think.  

And so.  Reality bites in the arse.  Sometimes, a certain scent, or feeling or moment would pull me back to where I was a few years ago.  This morning I drifted into the memory when he made arrangements for household packing for us to move back into my parents' - when he knew he had no intention of moving back with me and the kids.  And that piece of memory waved of as I said, "OK" and moved myself upstairs to get ready.  

I am at a better place now.

Although the arse is hurting again when I see faces of people who reminds me of the stuffs I need to get going today.  

Too many loads today.  And I am slowly putting my head back into my shell as I resist, tongue-biting myself, finger-restraining myself, from sincerely lashing back to these groups who are self-absorbed. I never get why some people just like stealing someone else's thunder and does it so without compassion.  So very self-absorbed.

Haih.

Another self-distraction, I found a mushroom soup recipe, Jamie Oliver style.  Reminds me when I my eldest was about 2 years old.  We went into the bookshop and I showed him Jamie's cooking book and went, "Look at Uncle Jamie!" and everyone around us went curious and kept looking back at us. It was unintentional for it to sound that way.  But I just referred to everyone one else as uncles and aunts with him.

Anyhoo...  Here is the link to MUSHROOM SOUP by Jamie Oliver.

Looks good ain't it?

Chips and Ice

How does having a chip on the shoulder and dealing with someone else with a chip on their shoulder go together?  This eruption of ego clashes and snarling remarks flow of sarcasm even more when other people are suddenly included in the conversation thread.

I hate it when people react to be condescending with me, because I am as much as that.  Especially when you were not even born yet when I entered high school.  Being Asian, it shows little respect that you have with your elders when you are required to have just that in the religion that you live your life in.  

Your clothing do not represent who you are.  Your actions do.  

So for this period of time, I shall reflect back onto that.  

The truth is, my actions are what I am.

Self Resentment

What is love?  

Love is perhaps waiting for Scrabble to patiently load into your mobile and it has been more than 2 attempt of reloading and more than 3 minutes of waiting.  That is how patient we all are - only for 3 minutes.  And I am feeling impatient about it by minute.  Oh well.  Let us just shut the damn thing off.  Ugh.  Pffft.  How sad is that?

We used to wait 14-30 days for an international letter from our pen pal.  Or half a day lounging about the house, just waiting for a boyfriend's phone call made from the public phone.  And cards.  All sorts of greeting cards.  Throughout the weather.  And rundown letters from the rain.  Not bills.  Real heartfelt letters.

But I am in boredom as I celebrate alone by myself on all little tiny achievements.  

Why am I enthralled to these things?  So drawn to this weirdness that can be so sorry to self instead of simple awesomeness.  

At this point of time, I really pity myself.

The Ignorance in Me

There is this pit of sadness in me.  Of how ignorant I had been onto my own child.

The changes I faces and the challenges that came with them made me lose out so much on my eldest child.  I had hoped for him to be able to manage himself.  But I had forgotten that he is still dependent on me.  And I expected him to go off all alone when it was he who needed me.  

So I went out with a friend I had not met over a year.  Left the kids at home and when I came back, homework was strewn from the bed down onto the floor with them half sleeping.  It felt like a wreck eyesight.  

I went through his books and found nothing in them.  In his bag was full of exam results with Cs all over.  Truthfully I do not expect much from results.  But I expected content in his exercise books.  All of them had titles but zero input.  They were either scribbles of no meaning or no presence of words, numbers or anything else to fill in between the lines of the books.  It made me feel empty. Speechless in my heart.  Speechless in my brain.  Speechless within myself entirely.

I keep telling him to not disappoint himself by his own actions i.e. not finishing homework and other things important.  But yet there I was gravely disappointed with myself.

Counting the days to the nationwide examination in his form in September, I know not what to do. This is too, a learning process for me.  So I shall take it one step at a time...

Credit: via Google Search

...by checking his bags on daily basis - whether or not I am up to it or not.

The Sidecar of Life

Googled

The school has reopened in the part of the continent.  And all three children of mine are officially off into real school from this year onward.  I have no idea if it makes me feel old.  I do not feel it so.  Just a sense of longing for the baby-ness that has gone with them growing up.  It is just that looking at other new, fresh smelling child makes me feel that that part of my life has pass.  

Changes in life is good.  So many are asking for more produce from me.  It is alright that I have decided so although babies are nice, but I am letting my husband be my baby now.  I can travel and date him without worrying about the kids when we do.  And that would be my copy paste answer to anyone asking.

During that first few years in life, I was breeding, packing, unloading, breastfeeding and cleaning.  I did not get to concentrate on me or the relationship in my marriage.  Like any other mother, you soon lose the factor of knowing what you like or even what you would like; and sex seems to fizzle out as you ironically spray breast milk all over when you have orgasm while doing it.

Having gone through the changes in my life, I feel that it is time for me to continue this quest of fulfilling self.  I do want to know what I like, what I want to discover, where I want to go, what I want to do.  And I want to experience all this with my spouse, whom would be on the one riding the motorcycle as I sit in the sidecar just discovering the open road.  Let me be free with my emotions and surprise myself (as well as he) with them each time.

I am open with him now.  Even when we squabble, I would answer now openly.  Somehow delighted that he responds to them and then we crack up in laughter; or the silent treatments that usually will not last long (unlike before).  I do not hold a grudge (or perhaps because I know God will show him to it.  Hahaha.  It has happened several times now) like how I used to.  And truthfully, it is easier to live life by letting the grudges just go.  

God put me through a year of it.  Many others go through years of it, perhaps most of their life.  This I know.  But I am thankful that He wanted to teach me lessons that I could not have learnt by myself, even by observation - Letting go.  Clearing my emotions.  To communicate what I emote.  To break down my walls.  To be free.  And most of all, to be thankful.  

Truly, I am thankful.

   

Recollecting Memories

I have been flooded by memories from the past. They come in nonchalantly and without warning leaving gaps of sweetness, hurt and sorrow all at the same time. Ear plugs were stuck into my head most of hours of the days in office with me singing quietly just to shut me out from the world today. Perhaps today was meant for self-reflection.

Tones reminds me of those times he worked months away from home. The utter sorrow and loneliness of his pierced through my ear and tears just flow drop after drop. How alone and away he was from where he used to be and to where he belonged.  Other sounds brought me back to rekindling and forgiving. And I began to remember conversations that were quirky enough to make me laugh.

The night after he actually asked my hand in marriage for the second time, I only courtesy called family with whom I had direct contact with throughout the divorce. For one, my mother's older sister who seems to find me amusing. I feel a sense of freedom to be amusing whenever I speak to her at this day and age as I grow older. 

I told her, if God deems so that it would take place, I would want to celebrate it. Putting aside what my mother and husband-to-be felt that the solemnization was more important worrying about what I wanted on the day before. "But of course I want to have my own bouquet of flowers and henna on my fingers. It does not matter the fact that there are family whom object to it openly, but it would be my wedding day and therefore I will make it my wedding day," I told her as she listened intently.

You see, the objection was strong enough that I was informed that I was no longer welcome into his family. And the quietness of this was to care sensitivity of them. But after all that has happened, I still deserve to celebrate on something that is happy for me.

So I told her, "And so, I will get the bouquet tomorrow and get my nail henna done the same. At this point of life I want to be in happy as I am in happy." She applauded me.

On Saturday morning, I found a beautiful head scarf by chance at my little single budget with a friend whom I met on a whim to do laundry with. Oh I heart her dearly. We had coffee and spoke briefly about our lives before we parted. Then on Sunday night while everyone was busy with their own things, I drove myself to some outskirt florist for a simple hand bouquet that I prayed not to be too much for the next day. And as everyone else lay sleeping, I painted my fingers red.

Dressed myself and brought my bouquet to the registrar's office. And I felt beautiful the entire time. When I announced that we were now husband and wife, the first thing that my aunt asked was to share a picture of my henna and hand bouquet. Again, she applauded.

Googled

The mystery of this is that I did what I wanted to have and did not let other people's opinion hinder my spirit to celebrate that was rightful for me.

I think I did good. And I am glad I did what I did. I call it owning my own sense of ownership.