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.

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.  

Much Needed Sanity

I realized that I was sinking my own ship into the shallow waters.  I tend to do that.  Getting overboard over nothing just because it feels vacant inside although it is not.  Senselessly telling myself that I am bored, with nothingness; when it is truly that I need to have some emotional turmoil to get me through the day to be able to feel something.  That was what I was accustomed to.  Being numb.

There are a few friends going through that - being numb.  But they are whiners.  They seem stuck.  But they too seem like they are not progressing.  However, I have decided to have no concern in them as they keep whining and do nothing about what bothers them.  It is their life to deal with.  It is not mine.  Until they decide about dealing with it, then it is another stage for them.

Weather has been bad here.  The haze is everywhere.  Schools closed with exams due in two weeks and unable to cover a few syllabus towards exam date.  It has been a month.  And kids with respiratory problems are advised to be home even when the schools are open.  I send them alternately.  Like two days, then break.  They need school.  But they also need to keep healthy.  Then again, the schools closing and opening are about that duration too.  No difference whatsoever then.

Work has been emotional.  I have been angry most of the time.  Yes, angry.  Angered by the complacency, no cooperation, no compassion, no sincerity, no transparency, no information, no information and no information.  

Today, I have decided to keep myself sane.  I do have a few datelines today.  Therefore I shall go now and make myself a cup of coffee, though still undecided to go black or play on with the 3-in-1 sachet.  Get something sweet, something savoury.  Oh I really wish I could get a cinnamon bun right now.  Or pastry oozing with cheese.  Or that ultimate lifesaving feeling for me - mixed salad rounded by feta cheese.  

My ultimate hotel getaway:  When the breakfast buffet serves a bunch of cheese, wholesome salad range, Italian dressing, olive oil, sausages, cold cuts and 'everything on it' omelet.  

I shall go away with my dirty cup now to the pantry, letting that salad drowned in feta cheese feeling remain in my throat.

Credit: Found on Google following this URL

Then probably continue with burying my feet beneath the sands as the waves brakes.  

Much need sanity.

Thank 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?

This Roller Coaster Ride

After a few hours away from the first post, I have calm to my hypertension pills that I had forgotten to take this morning.  I have walked myself to from block to block getting back to my workstation with a gentle taste of Magnum in my mouth.  With long breaths and a sit down after some light snack now I remember what triggered my whole emotional roller bleeping coaster.

When I began with this place, I supported the top layer of management.  And after some ordeal I had to settle with for the past few years, I am now at the bottom.  Truthfully I am thankful that I do not take things personal, just the same that I execute my work as it should and do not try to make things difficult when carrying them out from Day 1.  

Hitting rock bottom was meant to happen.  Rock bottom with the job, and rock bottom with the marriage that went with most of the people I call family and friends.  But I got out of the crap that I stayed intensely for approximately 3 years.  It was not beautiful then.  However, getting out of it is considered as victorious as time goes by.

Today I met one of the support people with whom I have worked with from a long time back.  And I feel somewhat angered that at that one moment, she looked down on me.  The people whom were the the lower support team are now above me.  Just because someone berated me for things that were too many for me to do and keep them at the standard that both she and I wanted.  One thing is for sure, I do know that I did a good job at my end.  Who cares about what she thinks of me?  She cannot eat back on her words and her own actions now.  For she has since employed two other staffs to do my one job and paying more than double of what the company was paying for me, under par. 

I chose to leave as I was not being treated fairly.  So dear self, please calm yourself down.  You are allowed to cry your losses.  But you should celebrate what you have then achieved.

Getting out of the dull aching situation, you were able to learn who you were and what you wanted. You regained your self-confidence.  And you found true love again.  With this new working environment, you leave on time and have more time to make the children happy, the same to be able to run around for their extra classes and time for yourself.  So open your eyes and see the things that you have now.  No more brain messes after work and over the weekend as well as holidays.  You should be grateful my dear.

And I am.

Self Affair

This is one of the lowest points of my weeks. Aside of having waiting for my extremely delayed period due to PCOS, I have been extremely irritated to the fact that I have been moody and resenting this body.  Then finally the bad blood expels itself out recently to which I am absolutely grateful for, when I was away with my family for a short holiday.

On this day, I see pictures of me flying around in the Family Chat Group.  I am not photogenic.  Yes. I have always known that. But the weight and water retention that I had absorbed during this time while waiting for the period has given me an uglier face.  I hate it.  I hate it.  I hate it.

I makes me think why in the world did he remarry me?  How can you appreciate the woman who repeats herself the same through both marriages?  And absolutely, why do I do this to myself?  Do I really need to self-punish me this way?  

But seriously, I feel ugly inside out.

And I also hate this arrogant bastard in the office who is arrogant.  There are in fact, two of them.  

I may be going on this self-loath/hate/troubled feeling rampage throughout the day.  So I may as well just let myself vomit my feelings out in here.  

Can I cry now?

Stuck Sensation

I have no idea where I am at.  In the midst of documents to write, I begin to wonder if I am emotionally stable, or mentally stable, seeing that out of my head, I have family relatives who has bipolar.  Perhaps I was one but eventually found a grip to hold onto.

Feeling like where I was before.  Perhaps it is my greatest ability to clean up people's mess.  Or, make a mess and clean myself after it.  Some days I go home and I won't be able to tell what I have done all day.  Now, that sucks.  But when you think it over, it is more of trying but being stuck in process that it in a chain of other people in it.  Or, you not being able to communicate to bring it further in the day.  Or, you keep calling people to get it going and still end up stuck there with 3, 4 things to finish but damn, you are completely in a jam.

Right now in the zone of delivering a message of memorandum which has been changed 3 times over since yesterday.  Getting all documents ready to support it is even more taxing.  To close cases that has not been closed making me feel like some what insurance agent in the finance end.  What is this? Am I just droning my days in and out?

Just how I completely feel like being absent for a mindful rest when my child gets into the hospital, with the other two siblings falling sick around the same time.  How restful is that when you are on your own without other half?  Not to say that I am completely grateful for the support of family so close, but, you know what I mean.

If I could just doze off right now, I would probably wake up 5 hours later.  

I just need a beautiful beach with clear water.  Wind in my hair.  Good hawker food.  Alone time in the balcony corners of the room.  And some time banging by the window.  I do need that.  The banging.  But I am feeling unattractive with this bloat of body.  And hating my hair.  As well as all the body hair that do not need to exist.  

Photo Found by Google Search

Rest is peaceful when resting is with him.  

A Bit of Lag

Slightly lost and lagging behind life.  At least that's how I am feeling.

The things that I have done for myself and fallen ill for it.  Apparently I had been under so much stress that it induced me into Transient Ischemic Attack of mild stroke which brought my husband home from 3 hours away by flight just to be by my side.  I was grateful that he came home.  We had a chance to squabble and share the hospital bed together, with a more secure heart and without much sleep from the constant BP and temperature check every other hour.

And as I supposed to be working, I am finding this self-distraction into other things not really work related.  At least I am feeling normal now.  And having songs melting in my ears as I hum them along not knowing how loud I am sounding like to other people. I don't really care.

Only now, I am feeling anxious somehow.

The Fall from the Burj

There was last year's best songs music award live telecast last night. We watched. I knew I tried getting tickets to attend at the venue. But we did not manage to get any this year. I did not need any the year before.  

I could still remember clearly the last that we attended. Our second child had just been discharged from the hospital after staying there for one week. Caught between motherhood feeling guilty leaving the sick behind and doing the right thing for me, I took on the latter and got myself ready for the show.  Neither of us spoke as we both got ready. He did not care to look at me. And I just went along to what I think was fine enough for him.  

The strain on the marriage begun to show. He was only present on the first night at the hospital and left the following night for the work, hours away from home. He did not try to come home to visit his son, neither did he try to answer my calls when the child needed him most. When I needed him too. He only came back when we were all safely at home, in time for the show.

So I queued for entry as he went to park the car. His brother and his wife came waddling behind me, joining the show, and joined me in line. And then I found him further behind. Much further behind, out of line, by the borders of the sidewalk with a phone on his cheek smiling and laughing as he spoke. Something that I had not seen him do for me of late, at the time. I did not have anything to say to him. I was hurt and disappointed. Beyond words. When he joined us, he was vacant. My presence bothered him. It was not me who was spacing out. And so I told myself that I was going to let me go and enjoy this show.

I envied the relationship that his brothers had with their wives. They were so free. One could shout all her might openly and not get schooled by anyone in the family, as he. One would snuggle and tease hers as he did with she where everyone else would join in the laughter. One was so quick to do things that you could see her husband just there to pick up what she missed out. They all did not have emotional barrier with their spouses. Something what he and I did not have.

At that point of the live show telecast where we were a couple of years ago, we stood there like mannequins. This was not the man I knew by heart. Not the one who would stare at me as I lay sleeping. Not the one who would make me laugh and laugh with me. Not the one who would try to meddle with what I was doing just to make it perfect while being a nuisance. I knew he has lost appreciation for me.  

I got up and danced as the show went on. But I was partially paralyzed. It was as if my actions were embarrassing him. I did not care. I knew I needed this. And this went on until the show ended at midnight. It felt like being on top of the Burj and waiting to fall knowing the gap of fall it would take to the ground. The hollowness was hurtful. It felt like the enjoyment had gone to waste.

My laid my head against his shoulder as we watched the show last night. He tried to recollect when was the last we went for the music award. I said, "Two years ago.  But let us not talk about it. It was hurtful. You face showed disgust at the sight of me." He managed a gaggle acknowledging it before falling silent. Like a black comedy that is worth a gaggle, I snorted too. But his body remained relax, as did I. And we continued watching the show together until it ended.

Last night I fell from the Burj to let go of a memory, knowing that he would embrace me somewhere in between. And I would be ready there prepared with a parachute myself too.  

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.