That Voice

Why is it that voice seems
to be the loudest?
That voice that tells me
I am not good enough.
That voice that tells me
I will fail or am failing.
That voice that tells me
all the negative opinions
I think others have of me
is true.
That voice that seem to drown out
every positive of my life.
That voice that make me
wants to fall and never get up,
That voice that bursts my bubbles of ashes
every time!
No matter how I try to deafen my mind,
or give a counter argument,
it is just that voice that won't shut up,
that voice that won't back down.
Lord, I need help to be louder than that voice!

rya
19/8/2014
6.51 pm

Crazy

I don’t think what I am going to talk today is known to many of my friends. I keep it really close to heart from experience of people not understanding or lack of life experience to be able to grasp the full nuance of what it actually means. But I have been dealing with a lot of emotional upheaval these past few years, and I find that I need to write about it so I can deal with it. But me being me, I can’t write for my own view, it has to have a ‘perceived’ audience.

Not everyone knows of this, I have never kept it a secret, but I don’t tell people when I said hello either. My mom was diagnosed of having schizophrenia when she was 18, so when she had me at 26, she was already a veteran of 8 years of living with a mental disorder. My whole life that was the reality I live in, it was my normal. When I had my first breakdown when I was 15, it was scary, I understood for the first time how it was like for mom, not to be able to be in control of your own mind, and my respect and my love for her tripled, she was a terrific mom even when she was sick, the amount of strength and love she must have had in her to still remember that she is a mom first and foremost.

I was the eldest, ever since I can remember, I was charged with the responsibility of the family after dad. When I had my breakdown, a few months before SRP (Sijil Rendah Pelajaran), dad decided to handle it himself, he knew if I went the medical route, I would have to be dependent on meds forever and sooner or later be dependent on others to live and would be very difficult for me to be able to look after my mom and sister as well as myself. Some people would say it is not fair, but life is not about fairness, life is dealing with the cards you are dealt with, and we were dealt with such a card, and whatever is needed to be done to be able to go on is what we did. 

So dad with his years of experience of dealing with mom and his own peculiarities became my psychologist. It was really rough, but we learnt, my habit of liking to read became my salvation, reading replaced anti-depressants, and dad taught me to stabilize my emotion and I learned through trial and error on how to keep myself in check, the lows (depression) was not so hard for me, it is very rare that I would come to a point of wanting to kill myself, but the highs (psychosis) was very hard at first, luckily I got away with just appearing slightly odd or unique to my friends.

So with very strong family support and understanding I managed to somewhat become a responsible ‘normal’ adult. When my sister had her breakdown when she was 20, I was experienced enough to recognize that she needed more help than I did; dad hoped I know that what worked with me would work with her. But yeah, it is not the same for everyone, and I am not saying I was stronger and sis was weaker, it is just is. 

The reason I am writing this today, is not to bring this out in the open, I am just trying to remind myself the journey. I have been depressed for the past few years, it is nothing new. But these past few months it has been extraordinarily difficult, there has not been a day that I did not think about ending my life. As I said before, I was never suicidal, it is very rare. So I was racking my brain of why it is happening now.  A month ago, I was hospitalized to go through a prolong fasting test, part of the procedure of being admitted was talking to the pharmacist about my medications. When I mentioned that I was taking Amitriptyline for my migraine, the pharmacist interjected, saying "that wasn't what it was for." So that made me wanted to go to my best friend Mr. Google and find out, but of course I didn't have net connection in the hospital and it slipped my mind. But something made me Google it a few weeks ago and this is what I found out.

Taken from Wikipedia:

Amitriptyline /ˌæmɪˈtrɪptɪliːn/[5] (Elavil, Endep, Levate and many others) is a tricyclic antidepressant (TCA). It is the most widely used TCA.

It is used to treat a number of mental disorders including: major depressive disorder, anxiety, and less commonly psychosis, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, and bipolar disorder. Other uses include: prevention of migraines and post herpetic neuralgia and less commonly insomnia.[6]

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Wikipedia       

    

I was like what, all the things I had to do to avoid anti-depressant and I was slyly given it for something else.

That brought me to other links and most of it has this to say:

You may have thoughts about suicide when you first start taking an antidepressant such as amitriptyline, especially if you are younger than 24 years old. Your doctor will need to check you at regular visits for at least the first 12 weeks of treatment.

Report any new or worsening symptoms to your doctor, such as: mood or behavior changes, anxiety, panic attacks, trouble sleeping, or if you feel impulsive, irritable, agitated, hostile, aggressive, restless, hyperactive (mentally or physically), more depressed, or have thoughts about suicide or hurting yourself.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Drugs.com

I know I am not younger than 24 years old, but the worsening symptoms described me these past few months. I have been trying to still take the meds at least until I see the neurologist this coming January, but after spending the whole of last weekend crying for no reason,  I finally decided to stop taking the meds for a week at least and see if things would improve. I am hoping it is the meds, because if it is not, then it means I have to find new ways to deal with my worsening depression.  Lord, help!

Letters to Mummy 11

Dear Mummy,

The last I wrote you was in January 2013. It has been really long, hasn’t it? I have tried not to write or even bother you in your eternal rest with my fervent longing and need for you. But I woke up today longing to join you. It has not been the greatest of months since I last wrote you. It was a constant crisis one after another. I tried really hard mom to hold on, to fight, to get up after each fall, but it is like me being a house built on the shore of a rough ocean and bit by bit the water is taking back what is theirs.

 I am tired mom, physically, emotionally, and even my soul is exhausted. I have always bolstered my strength with the hope of what tomorrow brings and the thought what my absence would mean to those who loves me. But it has come to a point where even the thought of tomorrow’s rainbow and the emptiness I would leave behind, does not bolster me enough so that I do not long for that eternal darkness.

I miss you, Mummy, help!

Love,

Along

On The Verge of Insanity

Sometimes I wonder if the world is going crazy
or it is me that is going insane?
Nothing makes sense anymore!
What I think wrong is proclaimed as right,
what I think right is declared as wrong.
The more I read the more confuse I get.
Losing sleep and getting dizzy,
my world is spinning out of control,
going to hell in a handbasket,
so fast,
I need to find my center back,
to get my balance
in this ever growing chaotic dichotomy.

rya
20.7.2014
2015 hrs

Reminiscing My Life in Fragments

I was just messing around looking at the documents I have in my files, then I came across and old poem of mine and decided to put up a post on it since I haven't written for so long due to time constraint and my old friend Ms Depress visiting.

When I was studying Critical Appreciation for my MA English Literature with Dr. Noritah Omar, she made us read and analyse T. S Elliot The Wasteland. One of the assignments was to either write a paper on it or write a 5 cantos poem of our own. I chose to write the poem of course, in a way I cheated, because I just wrote the first and second cantos and then cobbled together the rest of the cantos from my previously written poems and added here and there for sake of continuity. Because it was for an assignment, it wasn't dated, and looking at my transcript I can say it was written between May to August of 2000. It was titled Life in Fragments.

Life in Fragments

        

          I

An Introduction

It was a fairy tale beginning,

a nightmare of an ending.

An open and shut case

in life’s highest court,

(or so I think)

but the jury is still out,

undecided!

My life now has been bared down

to mere facts.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury

let us start over.

And this time, I will colour the fact

with my emotional reality so you could say

unanimously

that a life with promise has been

wasted

on trifles of indignities.

That I am guilty

of buckling down when the pressure is greatest,

and I am guilty

of not learning life’s lesson.

So let us examine my

life in fragments.

  

     II

Innocence

Beloved child of two loving parents

given everything I would ever need

given love and support by two adoring siblings.

And I grew with glowing hope

that life would be as rosy a bed

which I have lain all my life.

The values I have learned,

the encouragements I have received,

was my anchor for life.

And I gaily laughed and set sail

into the unknown,

with mistaken belief

that the sea won’t be rough,

and the storm won’t torment me.

Will my anchor hold?

       III

Masquerade

Life is a play put on

for the world to see.

It is ironic that I should

find that out

while putting on a play literally.

Rehearsals after rehearsals,

I find out that we really are

actors and actresses

never revealing our true selves,

I found out who my friends are and

who are acting as my friends.

I found out that as in a play

we each has a part,

and we play it to perfection.

I found out that it all has

been a masquerade life is

putting on for me.

Then,

       the show must go on.

And the trust I held inside

began to wilt

like a rose in a vase without water.

       IV

The waiting

Dreams that formed

in the illusion of the night

turns into shattered nightmares

in the clarity of the day.

In the interlude of reality and fantasy.

Dreams.

Nightmares.

Are just another play of an entrapment of a soul.

It feels like an eternal slumber

the stillness of silence

and in the silence

everything seems frozen

in time and space.

From the moment the knife drops

I’ve been bleeding slowly inside

waiting for death!

But death is a tardy friend

And pain is a constant companion.

If only I could wake from this painful

dream

or is it

nightmare?

Or if only everything would end

suddenly

swiftly

until I could finally be laid to rest!

Sleep come quickly now

take me to that place where

nothing is better than death.

       V

Conclusion

There, my life

coloured to the best of my skill.

But still I see the blank faces of the jury.

The jury is still out.

Undecided.

But I do not need their verdict any more.

Because now I know

my life is made from the

reconstructed ashes of my dreams.

Dreams that have been

burned by the fire of defeat.

Each time I with my bubbles                                   

of hope gather the scattered ashes                       

and the  remains form     

new dreams                 

not stronger                         

renewed!                                

rya

May-August 2000

Happy 37th Birthday, Phil

Happy 37th birthday, hun and an advance happy 4th anniversary . I don't know what to do this birthday and anniversary, can't seem to come up with any good poems lately. A bit stuck. Not feeling enough either negatively or positively, so not in a good poetry mode. So I just thought I would write my thoughts on how you make me feel, why I love you, why I need you and why I can't let you go. I don't know how I am going to get this across, the blog would be too public, your FB inbox, I am not even sure you read that. Maybe a private FB note. I don't know, I will figure it out once I have this written down. (I think this could go to my blog, very personal, but not something I'd mind sharing).

Ever since I have known you, you have been my anchor in rough water. Whatever the trouble, whatever the problem or crisis, I just need to talk to you and everything doesn't seem too big or unmanageable. You always seem to be able to center me and break it down to pieces I can handle. No one have ever manage to do that, not even dad, he makes me feel safe and I think of him as some kind of superman that would save me, but you make me see I can manage things myself, your belief in me is remarkable and your ability to calm me down and hold me stable while everything around me is twirling in a hurricane is something I have never found in anyone in my life before.

You also have a knack of motivating me to do stuff pass my comfort zone. Like when you convince me to rebel  out of my liege dead kingdom, talking me through it, being there every step of the way, hell, you were there to take over when my internet was acting up. But what I noticed most is how patient you are when you try to motivate, it was really highlighted when we got lost in Scout Scar. You never once lost your patience throughout all my crying bouts, which were numerous, you talked me through all of it, told me I can do it, even spun that story, so I could laugh and go on. All throughout the 5 years I have known you, that is how you have always been, my patient motivator, and right by my side each difficult step I had to take, even if most of the time your presence is metaphorical, but still always a presence.

You tell me you don't do birthdays, anniversaries, presents and most of the time you forget to say I love you or return my I love 'you's, but when you do remember it is heart meltingly sweet. The friend you sent over to be my power 20 Lady when I told you it was my birthday. I still remember how disoriented your friend when she realized she came to someone she does not know all. That was sweet. Then the fairy tale you wrote me about a bookworm princess rescuing a rat prince answering my request for a birthday story was beyond sweet, it would have made sugar jealous. And all the times you wait up so I would be online so you could say 'hi and I love you', and even though you have the toughest time trying to convey your feeling, when you do, it stays in my heart for months, even though it is in Philspeak like 'damn you succubus, marry me'. Lol that would stay in my memory forever. What I am trying to say even though it is hard for you to remember to be sweet at the right moment but when you do it you outdo yourself royally. I always know I am loved and remembered.

There is also your knack of seeing areas that I need improvement on and gently telling me what I am doing wrong and why. I don't always like it because almost always it hurts, but sooner or later I will see that your poking is needed and without you telling me I would not see it or wouldn't know I need to do something about it. For example, when you told me I shouldn't always answer for boy, that it takes away his standing in front of others, that you understand I do it because I care for him but I should start letting go because he needs to grow. It hurts that day because I was already feeling inadequate, like I was not good enough for anyone. But you knew it needed saying, so you said it, gently enough, then hug me long enough so I could hear it over the noise of pain. Only very few in my life can get through to me that way, hun.

When once, a long lifetime ago it seems, I broke down and beg the Lord for a companion  that would love and guide me through my journey, He has outdone Himself, when He brought you into my life. You are more than what I asked for, hun. You have your weaknesses of course but it complements my strengths and vice versa. And when I gave you a carte blanche on a certain matter, you chose not to use it, not that I am taking it back, but just telling you I noticed and appreciate that loyalty.

I could go on and on but I would start saying clichés, thing that has been said in countless of love songs and poems. It would be like a mesh of lyrics like, you are my remedy, my clarity, the one thing I'd rather die than be without. So I will restrain myself. :)

I don't know where our journey will lead, whether we will come to a cross road and have to choose different direction, or we will continue to walk together till it come to a natural end. All I know is that I love you so much and that having you in my life is so good for me. If ever there comes a day I have to let you go, I know  in my heart I could never give you up, I will set you free but I will never be free, because when I said forever I meant it. It would never be fair for anyone else to be second best. I love you, Phil, so much. Happy Birthday and Anniversary.