Let it gets into me.

Upset, upset. Upset that I’m not good enough.  I want to be better. I’m just bend and broken.

I didn’t got my summer internship that I really want from Malaysia. But my mom’s friend asked me to be a temporary teaching assistant at a Waldolf school and she seems eager to have me back to attend a 7-day Art Therapy workshop in August.

I don’t know. I’m split between choices. Should I give up my summer school and go back?

I don’t like making decisions. I think I need to sleep on it. Give it a day. I need to talk to D about it. I am super anxious about going back tho. Sometimes the feeling gets into me that’s suffocating. I’m barely breathing.


Stay put, wait for me. Remember me.

Studying oversea changes things. Chinese new year is one of my fav holiday of the year because nothing is better than spending good times with cousins who I’ve grown up with. But family gathering like this will not last long, because soon enough each of us will grow up, get married, have children, live abroad. Soon enough, things start to fall apart. I’ve a friend who is currently having oversea exchange finally shares the feeling of being in between, torn apart by your heart and mind. No matter how excited knowing that I can get back to Malaysia and have my yearly/biannual food feast, I always have this unpleasant feeling that clutches my throat. I’m afraid to see what I’ve missed during my absence. As I came back this time, I witness the changes with my own eyes. Aging is inevitable. I noticed the growing fine lines at the corners of my mother’s eyes. Once my mother commented that taking care of my 4-months old nephew reminded her taking care of me when I was a toddler, which is almost 20 years ago. Her words gave me shivers. I’m afraid what comes next. My grandmother took over my room so I was sorta kicked out of my own room. My childhood room is now the memory of the past. The room is now filled with muskiness, clutters, boxes of my old belongings and my favorite pillow is nowhere to be found. My parents too, start showing symptoms of mild amnesia and have been asking me the same questions over and over. It really frustrates me but too, I’m wary that this is only the beginning. An old relative of mine talked to me earlier today,

“I can never remember who you are anymore but please call me, tell me who you are and remember me, I can’t remember anyone anymore.

She talked with her head nodding profusely, as if those words are her mantra, telling me while telling herself reminding herself she cannot remember anything anymore. It is painful to watch someone having parts of them slip away. I tried to assure her,

“It’s okay. It’s okay you don’t remember but it’s most important you’re happy now, okay?” I’ll remember you.

I’m not concern about death. Death itself is not scary to me (at this moment) but the idea of getting old is petrifying. And the transiency of life, those changes. I never fancy them. I don’t like losing control. I tried to reach out, turn things around but I failed myself. Maybe I’m the type which is self-defeating and passive aggressive. But when I see my toddler nephew, he reminds me of so much hope.

Hold on to me.
Hold on to me.

No doubt he is a happy baby (potentially a very active extrovert, I can foretell) and there are so much life ahead of him. At the same time, I just want him to remains a toddler, tiny, innocent and lovable. I’ve to admit I’m obsessed with permanence, but I know this is just one of my absurdities. Freud once said,

A flower that blossoms only for a single night does not seem to us in that account less lovely. Nor can I understand any better why the beauty and perfection of work of art or of an intellectual achievement should lose its worth because of its temporal limitations.” 

It is indeed easier to say than done, but he is probably right. How foolish of me to let my emotions take over the enjoyment of beauty albeit its transiency? Then again, melancholy is my strong suit. I am only human. From what I remember, home is never the same.

Therapy Talk #4

So I went to see my university counselor for the 4th time. I was slightly jittery before meeting her. I even came out with a list of stuffs I wanted to talk to her. imageSilly, isn’t it? Because I don’t want to waste my biweekly meeting with her. 50 minutes simply do no justice to my predicaments.  I need to get them out of my system ASAP.

Today is pretty productive. We started off discussing about my mood last week and weeks back then. Before we even start, she automatically took out the waste bin. “I know you will need it later.”  She gets me. I guess I am the emotional, cry baby type. “Yeah I know.”  It’s almost ritualistic but I feel better after I cry, and there is no way I can talk straight out those sensitive topics without touching my emotional side.

I spent adequate amount of time complaining to her about D and how his inaction makes me feel. We did a little role play. But I couldn’t make myself scolding D, roleplayed by my therapist, no matter how upset I am. That’s not how D and I work. Then later I mentioned that I want to send birthday gift to D, while I am split between the prank glitter boom or a t-shirt. We did have a good laugh about the idea of prank glitter, but because of my tendency of self-blaming, self-hatred and guilt-ridden person, she warned me to think thrice before making a decision and think of the possible (bad or good) consequences.

One thing she mentioned that the possible reason that he is ignoring me is that he is homesick that, any communication with the past will make him miss home. That’s why he is so inaction. She might be right and I nodded.

She also dug around, wonder if I am seeing anyone. I brushed off because I know I have attachment issues. I am not lovable blah blah blah. I also blatantly mentioned about how I feel about queer guys. I told her that I have the tendency of liking gay guys. She is slightly curious about it and decided that we can work on that too, work on my personal identity. Towards the end, we decided to work on two topics: my emotional attachment/fuck up relationship with D and my personal identity for this semester. She also gave me a homework. Write a letter to D, about the things I want to confront him, his inaction. Of course, she repetitively warned me never send it to him but bring it to next session. I nodded. I know what to do. And as my problem with D is more imminent, we decide to work on that first. We’ll see.

Burnt out.

I’m tired, like serious mental exhaustion. Headache strikes and I can feel the heavy throbbing in my head. My eyes are droppy and I am starving but I felt like puking and nauseating. I’m just not taking stress so well.

I need to start doing something.

Day by day, night by night.

I start to lose sense of what day is it today.

I was counting the days I have before my assignments gonna due. I have like 5 assignments and I have less than 3 days for each of them and each of them at least 1500 words essay, plus an exam. To be honest, it’s really shitty.

I just need to start doing something.


Okay. I think I just signed up too many classes which are self-reflective and experiential. I don’t mean its a bad thing but I have both of my social work classes are creative art portfolio based. Fascinating. And I’m going to spend most of my time drifting off, reading books and being reflective and meditating all the time. So. Much. Wow. My friends were like, “they are classes? WTF ??!! ” Yes. Self exploring and self-reflections are counted as classes too so fuck off bitches. XD

So. Fkin’. Lost.

I should start figure out my life. I mean seriously. Being a junior means I only have two years left in the university. I simply need to figure out my life. Depressing isn’t it. I mean, life MUST GO ON  and I need to FIGURE OUT MY STUDY IN FUTURE WHICH MEANS I NEED TO DO POSTGRAD AND I DON’T FKING THINK I’M MENTALLY OR PHYSICALLY PREPARE FOR THIS. 


What the fuck I want to do with my life. Any good samaritan would like to enlighten me?  

First time expressive art therapy class: I’m weak.

First day at university as junior today and I attended the class ‘ The use of creative arts in social work settings’ where they used expressive art therapy to bring out the understandings and reflections in students. We went on doodling our name tags, tearing up A4 papers and build up abstract structures, then let others to judge what is it. Soon after, others will write them down on the piece of paper. After that, the maker will see whether the list matches their thoughts. Then the procedure carried on by writing a poetry to self(past, present or future) using the words on the list. And then yes. I did wrote something to my present/future self. I will post it soon enough. 

D’s departure has affected me a lot. I almost/ cried in the session twice because it is still too painful to me in deep down. I’m so weak. 

Topic of the day: Change(s).

Topic of the day: Change(s).

Where should I start this. Well. The thing is nobody likes to change. Everyone loves the stability of life. Everyone loves the moment when it’s perfect and they just wanted to stay it that way. But life is not that way. There always been ups and downs. Happy and sorrow moments. You cannot understand and appreciate happy moments until you experience sad and sorrow moments or episodes. This also means that nothing is static. Nothing is forever. People changes, things changes. People ages and grows as time goes by. And changes can be for the better and for the worst. It can be voluntary or involuntary. 

Change is best if voluntary. 

That was D’s status for the past few months. We changed too. I mean, I changed and he changed too. Everyone notices that. Maybe wiser or older, more acne for me -__- Puberty is not helping me. For him is that he changed wiser, less boyish, less innocent but think more like a man now. HAHAHAHA. LOL.

Okay back to the serious topic. I don’t like changes. In fact I hate it so much (well now not so much as I used to be) that changes overwhelmed me and consumes me that it breaks me every time it happens. Learning to embrace changes is no easy task. It requires a lot of forgiveness in me and towards other and tolerance. Although I am better off now but still life is never going to be easy. It only gets harder and the only way to face it is adapt to changes. Sounds very dumb and rhetorical but that is the truth. Things will not get easier. The only way its going easier is to embrace the idea of change.

D is going away. A friend of mine from my A level called me yesterday that she was told by a Chinese fortune teller/exorcist that she has like 4 demons/ ghosts in her that one of them is from Indonesia 2 years ago, where we went on the same graduate trip and we took some pictures of orbs and ‘people’ that we shouldn’t. Leaving me with more doubts and confusions with myself. *when I told D he was very shocked and scared. I am feeling lost and don’t know what to do with my life. My future is bleaker than ever as I know my current CGPA is not good enough to bring me anywhere. And things are going to change no matter what.

Life still, must go on.