Tears

The tears fell for the thousandth times 

to that silenced scream

A pain that can’t be shared 

because even if it could be understood

To justify causing new pain 

to share an old one 

and not even lessen it 

is insane

So again there she lies 

on that cold lonely floor 

crying to her old best friend …

rya

13.3.15

1.53 p.m.

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.

To Bubble Wrap the Kids or Not?

This morning as I was driving my brother to his driving test, I was listening to Mix.FM's breakfast show, Rod and Sarimah's chosen topic this morning is 'Do Parents Need to Control Their Kids Online Activity?' I was listening in to all the callers and various arguments put forth, it brought to mind how Phil's sister, Kirstie, had an incident happen to her eldest and wishing she could put all her kids in a bubble wrap to protect them from harm. I know the feeling, raising Abang, I have wished time and again that I could push all the hurt away from him and keep him safe from harm. I understood better why my parents were very protective of my sister and I when we were growing up. There is only so much a parent or guardian can do, it is a dangerous world, there is no practical way of protecting children from it, but we can train our children to be better prepared to defend themselves from the danger. I think that is best way to go, because if we want them to grow to their fullest potential, we can't keep them cocooned up, we need to let them be butterflies, just that we need to make sure they will be smart butterflies.

I remember when I was young I really wanted to learn to ride a bike, but dad absolutely refused it. Why you say? Well I was a difficult baby I think, I got into more scrapes than anyone could imagine, by age 7, I had 2 head injuries, an accident which caused me a tip of right pinky, got caught in barb wire, and various other scrapes. So my dad being very protective, thought he could save me from further harm by refusing me bike lessons. It didn't work, I was as stubborn then as I am today, I just cajoled my second cousin to let me practice on his bike. I am sure dad knew I was surreptitiously learning, because I came home with skinned knees and various other injuries from the many falls as I was learning, and I don't actually know till now why he kept quiet. Maybe he finally accepted that there was nothing he can do if I want something bad enough? Well when Abang came along he was on a bike from the day he could walk. I guess I taught dad that it is better to guide and supervise rather than forbid and have it done behind their back.

I guess that is why dad started to teach me how to drive when I was only thirteen. He taught me from 13 right up to when I took my license at age 19, until I finished university at age 23. Ten years to just teach me the defensive part of driving, he still have some small lessons until now when I drive.  But that is just it, there was no way dad could have stopped me from learning to drive, the only control he had was to make sure I become a very competent driver that I know how to handle any situation that would come my way. That is it really, there is no way parents can stop life's danger and risk from encroaching into their children's lives but they can make sure their children are well prepared for it.

So as I send boy to his driving test today, I kept telling him that he will do fine, and in my mind I kept telling myself, dad and I have taught him all we can, and he will be all right when he gets his license. There is no bubble wrap big enough and save enough for me to cocoon that little boy of mine, because he needs to come out as a strong, smart, beautiful butterfly, and we have done as much as possible to make sure he is ready for it. 

And So It Goes

How many times it seems

can promises be broken?

Again and again

my heart breaks and bleeds

feels like it will never heals

I guess this is what happens

when the devil answered my prayers.

Tears don’t seem to have the answer why

and so it bleeds and hurts

as the universe applauded

with their I told you so.

rya

30/10/13

8.13 am

Tell Me You Love Me For A Million Years ...

What do I say,

To a gesture that screams

I love you so much that even

if I bleed I am going to do this

but it would have gouged my heart and then ground it to dust

and never could I go around to collect the pieces to put it back together again.

I know you did it out love,

I know you suffered,

But hun,

don’t you ever hurt me like that again.

I love you to the moon and back as the songs goes,

Tell me you love me for a million years, if it don’t work out, then you can tell me goodbye.

Why should we hurt for all eternity when it is only convention that demands it?

Live and let live, and as we seize the moment, who knows what tomorrow will bring?

I love you.

rya

10/3/13

7:04 am

Meandering Back Down Memory Lane

Abang asked me the other day, how can I be so patient with Adik when she is in her High-high-blue mode? I replied, I have dealt with Mom’s High-high-blue mode since I was born, and Adik has not reached Mom’s PhD level yet. I don’t know ever since I was old enough to be left alone and take care of Mom for short period, dad has trusted me to be able to handle Mom’s peculiarities. Adik being daddy’s pet back then is almost always with dad on location when he is shooting nearby, (if he were outstation, he would drag all of us of course), so I was left with Mummy. On most occasions Mom was healthy and aware, but there were occasions when I was left with Mom when she was not well. I still remember 9 year old me, trying to convince Mom she can’t go out of the house wearing nothing, and then trying to tell her actually Daddy said we are not to go out at all until dad comes home.

All my life, my first purpose was to look after Mom, then everything else. It comes to me like second nature that I don’t even have to shift behavior when Mom is sick, so when it came to Adik, even though she is harder to control because she is so much more stubborn than Mom, I don’t bat an eyelash. Whenever Mom was sick, she always prefer me to be there for her, maybe because she get so use to me being there, or maybe because I have a softer touch than Dad and Adik. It seems true with Adik now too, she prefers how I am with her when she is sick rather than Dad and Abang. I still remember when I went to university; I will call home every day, just to check that Mummy is ok, that all is fine at home. People in my residential college noticed this habit of mine and they were speculating if I have a boyfriend, one brave soul actually asked me directly, who was I calling every day. When I told her my mom, she looked at me incredulously.

When I received my teaching posting to Sarawak, Mummy was warded in the psychiatric ward in Hospital Kuala Lumpur (HKL). She asked for me every day, not wanting anyone else to visit her. I tried telling her I had to go to Sarawak, but she couldn’t understand. When I was getting on the plane, I cried my hardest, because I was leaving my sick Mom and my two year old brother (whom I have raised since he was a baby) behind. The reason I rejected the posting after I arrived in Kuching was the realization that I couldn’t in good conscience just leave these two people I love behind. So when a friend who had the same posting I had, angrily telling me at our graduation that Kapit was a big city, I was taken aback, speechless, but then I realize not a lot of my friends know my family situation. That incident reminds me to never judge without knowing all the facts.

When Mom passed away, one of the texts I sent to a close friend, was a question, who do I take care of now? I really felt a loss; I was so use to looking after Mummy that when she was gone I felt purposeless, that my life had no meaning. But of course soon it was obvious that I still had the rest of the family to take care of, but it was just not the same, not to the same intense degree like it was with Mom. So I guess that is about it today, I don’t know why, but maybe visiting Adik in the same ward Mom was in nowadays, stirred up old memories. 

Down and Out Trying to Fight!

In another few days I will be another year older. As always I am quite depress around this time of the year, but this year I have added stress to make it more depressive. Lord, I have always taken what you give me and I have tried my best to live life in Your grace. But lately, I feel the hits are coming faster and harder, I know You won’t give more than I can take, but I feel like You have finally reached my limit, Lord, I am down on my knees, asking for a cease fire. Help! I can’t take any more.

For days, I have been thinking of writing about me and handling first Mom’s, then Adik’s bouts with mental illness. But as I typed today, I can’t. I can’t make myself go through all those heartbreaking periods of my life. That does not even count on my own dance with that devil. Suffice to say, however much I write or tell people, it will always be my cross to bear, however people sympathize, empathy is hard unless they have gone through similar situations.  Thank you Lord, for Phil and my family, for without them I would be already be drowning.

I don’t know what else to say. I pray for strength, because I am running out, I pray for better days ahead, because I know You won’t let me dwell too long in this misery. And of course I pray for Mom, Al-Fatihah!

Women and Handling Car Problems

This morning as I was driving Adik to work, I heard Sarimah on Mix.FM talking about how her tire exploded and she had to hitch a ride with the security guard to work. Then she was asking Rod how is she going to get it fixed, since she can’t move the car. Rod was telling her that she has to get it towed, or someone from the tire shop can come and take the tire, replace it and put it back. All the time I was hearing this I was seething, I was like change the tire to your spare woman, and then go get a new tire and change it back. Grr.

 Then I heard the reason her tire exploded was because she has no idea how to put the air in to her tires and had ask a friend to do it and he or she has put on too much air pressure that when she went over the bumper and the tire exploded. Hmm maybe both front tires exploded, she wasn't clear on that. But then again, the point I am trying to make is I don’t understand this helplessness of most women when handling basic car maintenance and problems.

Years ago a colleague of mine came to work saying that her engine blew because her husband is away and no one was around to check the water in the radiator. Really? Lord, when I started driving Dad made sure that I knew basic car maintenance, like checking the water, brake fluids, engine oil etc. He wouldn't let me drive on my own until I could change a tire by myself. It was basic logic really; if you want to drive you need to learn not only how to drive but all the other basic stuff of taking care of the car, whether you are a man or a woman.

So whenever I hear a woman saying she has no idea what to do when there is something wrong with her car, I seethe.

Happy Again!

I have been wanting to write for few days now, but time got away from me, always so busy nowadays. Now that I have some time I find that I just don’t have the mood to write. Well I am going to try anyway, but ugh, my spelling is going all over, kept having to correct it. This past few weeks have been playing Star Wars the Old Republic with Phil, I love the feeling of playing something together gain, it is not so much the game but the time we get to be together and the plus thing is we get to skype call to coordinate, and listening to his voice sooth over that missing feeling. Well the other day I didn’t have access to pc but Phil was still in SWOTR so I called him to talk while he craft. So basically wasn’t a conversation more like being together while we both do something, so as normal, a song got stuck in in my head and I only knew the chorus, so I sang it over and over until Phil ask me to stop, said it was annoying. I just laughed. Hun you are going to have to adjust to me annoying you that way always, ask anyone  who knows me, I can’t help myself. You can ask me to stop at that moment and I will try my best to stop, but it will happen again, that is just how I roll (as boy would put it).

Well I have gone back to teaching after so long being away from it. I found that it was like all this while I was missing a huge part of me, the moment I went back it was like I got back my ability to breathe easily again. I still hate going to work, I guess that will always be a part of me, but the moment I start teaching, there is nothing like it, the energy I get from looking at the students faces, interacting with them is so invigorating. Phil is very happy I got back on track and yes I am happy too. Well I hope I will be able to teach more after this semester ends, I miss it, not as much as I miss Phil of course but yeah I don’t feel down all the time now.

Together

He told me that it was easier

if we could have just met and stayed friends,

but we had to fall in love

and put us on this journey

threaded with nails on our hearts

for each day we spend apart.

People talks and says

if he is taking this long

he is not serious.

But they weren’t

the one who saw love in his eyes

when he looks at me.

They weren’t the one who saw

that despair was kept at bay

when we are together.

They weren’t the one who felt

safe in his embrace.

But then again they are not the ones

walking in these shoes of mine

so let them talk

while I patiently waits

for his hand to clasp mine

and finally we can walk this road together.

Lucky

I am really the luckiest girl I know, if luck is counted as the people who care and love me, or if blessings received are taken account of and of opportunities that come my way. Last month I had the opportunity to visit a city I’d never thought I’d get a chance to see, and to top it off I get to go with one of my dearest friend. She made it all possible of course, and went above and beyond to make sure I had the best experience in my life. Thank you kak Limah, you are the best. Traipsing around the back alley of the Grand Bazaar is an experience I’ll never forget, and the cruise on the Marmara Sea in the Bosphorus Strait will be on my mind for a long while, it was beautiful. Then on my last day you made it memorable with the view of people fishing on the bridge. I love Istanbul, the city, the people, the food, the tea, everything made an impression on me. I could see why you always seem happy when you describe your stay in Turkey, it is a remarkable place.

Then I got to spend a month with Phil. It gave me the opportunity to have a lot of heart to heart discussion, we didn't resolve much, situations still remain the same, and I don’t know when we will be able to be together in a permanent way in the same place and time yet, but it helps me resolve that it is what we both want and we have to have faith in God’s plan for us. I don’t know if I had overlook an easier route for us and I know we are not happy with how things are and it begs the question of whether we are really serious about it, and i know dad is worried and not liking it, but what can we do? We can only plan and hope for the best, the rest is up to the Almighty.

So despite of me feeling rotten that I am half a world away from my other half, I realize that in so many ways I am really blessed and lucky and I should hold on to that and hope things will work out to how I want it soon.

Letters to Mummy 10

Dear Mummy,

It has been a while since I have written, hasn’t it? I don’t know why but it has been hard to write. You know I have been talking to you each night as I go to sleep, but I haven’t had the need to write for quite a while. A few weeks ago I was telling Phil how I kept dreaming of you lately, and I told him how the pain is still the same. As always he calms me down, and told me yeah, the pain will never lessen, but as time pass I’ll learn to handle it better. And he wisely told me I can take all the time I want, no one can tell me when, it is up to me.  What makes me write today was that I had a weird dream of you last night. I dreamt of going to the psychiatric ward and getting chided by the doctor for not visiting you more often. The doctor said you have not been improving and they have run out of option to try. As I was talking to you trying to make sense of your hallucinations I was blaming myself for not being there for you that whatever lucidity you use to have is not there anymore. Then I woke up and realize I don’t have to go visit you in the hospital anymore now. It hurts. I suppose it was my conscience making me feel guilty for not going to see you before I go. I don’t know Mum, it just stirred up so many memories.

It brought to mind, when I got my teaching posting to Sarawak. How you were still warded for your latest relapse, how you wanted no one else but me when we visited. It was so hard to say goodbye then, I wasn’t even sure you understood. Then I had to say goodbye to boy, I didn’t think he understood either, but I found out later he not more that understand, he resented my leaving. That was my frame of mind, having to leave two family members that needed me to be there for them, when I received my posting to Kapit. How far it was from the both of you was the only thing that troubled me. The only reason I refused to go to the posting. So when a friend who got the same posting, resentfully said to me at our graduation, that it was a big town, I didn’t have the heart to tell her if she was in my shoes she would have done the same thing. My best friends were telling me that there was no way she’d understand, because not a lot of my friends knew what I have to deal with as a matter of course in my life.

Then the fact you are gone and no longer here starts hitting me hard again. I wish you were here more than anything, because you’d be here to help me sort out so many things. Mummy you don’t know how important your presence is to me and the family, you were our keystone, the linchpin that holds everything together. It is hard Mum, especially now that I am so ready to move on to the nest step of my life but hung in a limbo because of complications and I have no one to talk to, well no one that won’t judge and just listen. You were good at that Mum, listening and looking so loving as you listen. I miss you Mummy.

I guess I have to learn to live without you, and just remember the good times we had and try to move on and hold on to you in my heart where you will always be. Al-Fatihah, Mummy.

Love,

Along

Being a Mother to my Brother

These past few days I have been scanning old pictures. It has brought back to mind so many memories. I cried as I scanned pictures of Mummy, it hits me again how much I miss her. I am not going to write about Mum today, somehow the pain has been rubbed raw again. Today I am going to talk about raising my brother. When boy came, Mum wasn’t up to looking after a baby, she was older and the pills she was taking makes her sleepy and about the time boy was a month old, Mum had another relapse episode of schizophrenia, so I was about 19 then, in my last semester of Matriculations in UPM, I just basically move right back home and traveled 2 buses back and forth from Seri Gombak to Serdang.

One thing about me, I love babies, I love looking after babies, the sleepless night, the feedings, the diaper changing are a joy to me. Ever since I was sixteen, my nightly prayer was for god to give me a baby brother or sister to look after, there was a series of baby abandonment around then, I remember asking God I wouldn’t mind if He directs these poor lost soul to my front door and leave their baby for me to look after. So I wasn’t upset when I had to take over the majority of the responsibility of looking after boy. I am not saying it wasn’t hard, it was, they were times the conductor had to wake me up when we arrive in UPM, because I barely slept at night looking after a restless baby and have to wake up at  5 a.m. to be able to catch the first bus to KL so I could take the first bus to Serdang, to be able to make it for my 8 o’clock class. I made a lot of mistakes, Mum wasn’t really lucid to guide me, dad wasn’t really around because he had to work, but I love every minute of it. Thinking about it now I really miss those days,

It has been a really enjoyable experience looking after my brother and it has taught me a lot about life. I hope I get to experience it again, but I guess as I my biological clock ticks faster and faster and I am still not married, I might just have to resign myself not to ever experience motherhood from the very beginning, I mean the pregnancy and all that comes with it. Well, never say never, right? I never thought I’d find anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with, but I did, I guess I just have to have another conversation with the almighty, and ask Him for a baby for me this time. In shaa Allah!

Old Poems

I was just looking through my old poems, because something Phil said triggered a memory. What interest me was I found a couple of poems talking about dreams and life’s journey. It seems however much life has changed; I am still the same at the core. Well thought it’d be interesting to share the poems. Hope I could keep the formatting, here goes:-

Ashes

                                   My life

                            is made

                    from the

                         reconstructed ashes

                                        of my dreams.

                                    Dreams that

                            has 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

24.8.2000

12.43 a.m.

Journey

In this kaleidoscopic world

sometimes it is hard to see

        with clear perception.

What we search

        is almost always an illusion.

What we want

        is never what we get.

As each of us tries

        to complete our journey

        in search of

                love

                        belonging

                                fulfilment.

We sometimes get distracted

        and misdirected by

                lust

                        pretence

                                satiation.

But at the end of the road

what matters most

is the Journey itself

in which He had intended!

Rya

1/2/2002

3.00 p.m.

Dreams - Postponed and Otherwise

Last week amidst our normal rambling conversation, Phil threw me a curve ball of a question, which caused me to fluster out an answer for the moment, but as usual has been stewing in my head, turning it around and around, and frustratingly when I finally think I have a good answer, he is not online for me to tell him, so I guess I have to write it out and get him to read this blog post later. Below is an excerpt from our Skype conversation:-

 [11/11/2012 4:59:15 PM] Phil McQuinn: what do you want yasleh?

[11/11/2012 4:59:21 PM] Phil McQuinn: who do you want to be?

[11/11/2012 5:00:16 PM] Phil McQuinn: cos you know ayu thats something I never heard you ever tell me#

[11/11/2012 5:00:41 PM] Phil McQuinn: you never tell me your dreams

[11/11/2012 5:02:44 PM] Yasleh Rita Ayu Mat Yassin: i never? Well my dream sound silly and weak, it is nothing grand, coz all I ever wanted was to belong, be loved and be happy, the end

I have never really been able to answer those kinds of questions, my first instinct is to ask back, what do you want, I’ll follow. I do not know whether it is really me or it was ingrained in me, but I have never really been comfortable in letting people know what I want, it has always been easier to go along with what people want me to do.

Well I had my moments of selfishness and times when I insist I get my way, but most of the time when I do so, the result is never encouraging; sometime I even get myself into a pickle. I guess that made me very cautious and tend to heed people who I hold in esteemed telling me the best course I should take in this journey of mine.

If I want to be whimsical, I could say I want to sing, not a singer per se with albums and stuffs, just be able to sing and have people hear. It is a dream of mine to be able to sing a duet with Cliff Richard, but I am practical enough to know that is a dream that has a very slim chance of me achieving. Another thing, if I want to be honest, I am not that good a singer, I can carry a tune I guess, and mostly it is pleasant to hear, but I don’t have a voice that people would call god-given to sing. So even though I made dad allowed me to go audition for a few talent seeking show, and made my family crazy with my constant singing, deep down in my heart I know I would never go anywhere with this dream, so it is just that a nice daydream to while away time when I am bored.

When I went to university, dad wrote this poem for me (it is in Malay, I’ll try to translate below it).

Along, Truth Is Supreme,

hari ini along memulakan

langkah mimpi daddy dan mummy

yang tertangguh

di persimpangan waktu

sekian lama, bagaikan

kembara tersula senja.

Taulah nak,

langkahmu ini

adalah

lanjutan

dari kembara zaman-berzaman

melalui sungai cita-cita

nenek moyangmu yang bermula

dari benua utara shah bana alam

mengarak panji-panji

kebenaran dan kepimpinan.

Selamatlah kembara ilmu ini

hendaknya mengiringmu dalam

mencari

kesempurnaan

keimanan

dan kemanusiaan.

love Daddy,

2.35 pagi,

26.6.94,

Seri Gombak.

(Forgive me, the translation is going to be quite loose, and most probably will lose the beauty of its imagery in Malay)

Along, Truth Is Supreme.

today you will start on a journey

of daddy’s and mummy’s

dream postponed at the crossroad of time,

so long, a journey stopped by the coming of dusk.

Know that my daughter,

the steps you are taking

is a continuation

of centuries of journey

through the river of ambition

of your ancestors that started

from the northern continent of this earth,

carrying the banners of truth and leadership.

I hope you’ll be safe in this academic journey of yours

as you search for

perfection

faith

and humanity.

love Daddy,

2.35 a.m.,

26.6.94,

Seri Gombak.

When I read that poem written on the front page of a poem anthology, I cried. I was touched at the same time scared of the burden of centuries worth of dreams and aspiration. I have tried as best as I can to carry on the banner that was passed to me, and I have faltered so many times, but I guess I am walking it still and trying hard not to disappoint. This is also a reason it is hard for me to answer the questions Phil asked, because it is very hard to separate this combined dreams apart from my own dream.

But in essence I think the answer I shot out in instinct when Phil ask, is the best I could describe of what I want in life, I want to belong, be loved and be happy.