Tag Archive | trying

this is the way, walk in it

in 72 hours, i presented myself twice (and no less) to the Emergency Department, afraid of bscklash, wallowing in shame and guilt. how did things become this way?

in June, and even now in July, i struggle. i can tell you that having faith itself and claiming to have head knowledge are a world of a difference. i know that in my utter brokenness, my faith is lacking. i don’t claim as much as i can, my identity as the beloved child and daughter of God. i always remember from retreats and from conversations with friends, about how Peter walked on water. i have to learn from him, in that he trained his eyes on Jesus- he had faith and he believed! because when his eyes wandered he sank!

i have to constantly keep my gaze on God, my saviour! i may not always know why i am triggered or upset, but i guess i just have to put my faith and trust in Him? and yes, i have to learn to open the door of my heart to Him!!!

“He destined us in love to be his sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace which he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace which he lavished upon us.”

-Ephesians 1:5-8

p.s. Haemoglobin has dropped to 8.5g/dL, but they said it wasn’t low enough for a blood transfusion. Hand surgeons said Palmaris Longus and Flexor Carpi Radialis Sheath both sustained cuts (ie damage) but they weren’t gonna repair it. On a backslab now.




Poppy, my poodle, and the love of my life.

falling is painful- caught offguard, good hard shove, the descent to the ground, the concrete impact, scraped knees and hands, and oh the tears and the sniffles. the thing about falling is that you remain on the ground, right beneath everyone else’s noses. and until the time you decidedly pick yourself up, life won’t be a bed of roses. in fact, it is the toughest when you find it hard to get up. by that time, you’d probably have grown sick and tired of falling and picking yourself up. the people around you too, would have gotten terribly sick of you being on the ground. no one is there when you need them most. and everyone is there to judge you, when you don’t need them to do so the most.

oh the irony. life. *tsk*

what it really is

a straight face sometimes. an occasional grimace. a smile more often. laughter, a loud one at that, always.

ask me the requisite “how are you?”, and i’d tell you “i’m ok i guess”, only short of saying “never been better!”.

people like to assume, that if a person looks okay, that person MUST be okay. i have a hard time accepting this fact of life. it isn’t any easier when my family, my parents especially, are like that too.

how do you tell someone that you have 20 joints that are in pain, or flaring for that matter. that you’re trying your darndest to function normally, and the least to say, be okay with that? that you are struggling with a chronic disease that eats away at your joints, and have been doing so since you were barely a year old? that you take medications everyday to try to quell it, but that even these medications affect your liver and ups the chance of liver cirrhosis everytime that happens? that there is no cure, and that you have never been in a remission in 22 years of your life?

how do you tell someone that you are depressed, not by choice, but because there are just too many things tripping you over, including many dysfunctional mindsets and a brain so fantastic it continuously replays once repressed and traumatic memories? that you are (again) trying your hardest to get better, that it really takes time to right the wrongs which were never your fault in the first place, and that you cannot simply just “snap out of it”? that you take your medications, see your psychiatrist and psychologist without fail, and that you try to deploy every single method there is to be “more positive” and to “think less”? that everytime you take a step forward, you end up going 10 steps backwards because you “tried too hard” and you end up getting “eaten alive” by other people, just because? that you are NOT weak, or NOT not strong enough, and that the converse holds more truth? that in your self-preservation struggle, you go as far as letting them run electric currents through your head? that because you are such a danger to yourself, you get locked up in hospital for lengths of time that add up to more than a year? that life grinds to a halt with all of these- life, school, work, pleasure- and that all that time you’ve wasted doesn’t ever get returned or paid back to you?

how do you tell someone that you are eating disordered, not because you are vain or attention-seeking, but because there are legitimate reasons why you fell into it? that you keep hearing people around you, even those whom you love, tell you that you have gained weight, or that you are fat? that society dictates that it doesn’t bode well to be even just a little heavier, and when that happens, all you see are the heads shaking and the fingers wagging? that in ballet the leotards and tights wrap around your body and legs so tight that every inch that is not muscle or skin glares back at you in the mirror? that you had to take medications (refer to first point) that made you put on weight, and that you got a lot of shit (i.e. body-shaming) for that? that even when your body mass index is in the normal range, or even nearer to the underweight range, it is still not enough, and people still stare at you and tell you that you are “not thin enough”, or that you are fat? and that in the end you become your biggest critic, and nothing ever becomes good enough then, that you’d go to painful and great lengths- even if it means destroying your own health, or killing yourself slowly- just to be “thin enough”?

i could go on and on.

everyone struggles. i wouldn’t say i’ve had it worse than others, really. i think i am fortunate enough despite everything.

but just because i smile, laugh boisterously, talk like life’s good; just because there are no tears, no breakdowns, no frowns, no whining; just because i appear normal to you; it does not mean that i am okay. it does not mean you can dig at me, insult me, or tell me things that are so very irrelevant to you and painful to me. everything’s wrong, but life carries on. the world stops for no one, sadly.

and if you happen to be one whom i’d tell one of these things (all 3 even) to, i hope you never judge me like all the people (including my parents) whom have hurt me so much.

this is my story, and i am lucky to be able to tell it on this platform. many others don’t. but if you take some time to look around you and get to know better the people around you, maybe you will get to know of the stories left untold (for the very same reasons) and appreciate better the people you love or are friends/colleagues with.

it’s not difficult to be kind.

rule of thumb: if you don’t know what to say, don’t, don’t i repeat, say anything at all.

be helpful, not hurtful.