Doing What I Can Do.

On the 4th of January, I found this book at Borders. I sat down in front of the bookshelf and began to read a few pages of it. My eyes began to well and tears began streaming down my cheeks when I read the following passage:

"Who has died in your life that has led you to this book? ... No matter who died or how they died, your story and grief are unique. The pain you are experiencing cannot be compared to or minimized. It doesn't matter how old the person was who died or that someone else's situation seems worse than yours. If you loved them or they were a significant part of your life, then your pain is real and your grief is valid."

"In psychological terms, grief is defined as 'the anguish experienced after significant loss, usually the death of a beloved person'. Finding ways to express your anguish or pain and reconcile your loved one's death are important parts of grieving. You might need to tell your story over and over again, or search for answers in an attempt to understand what happened. And you may have to wrestle with difficult memories, regrets and 'if onlys'."

"It's common for people to say that in the beginning they were able to talk about the death of their loved one, but that as time went on they found it increasingly difficult, for fear of burdening those around them. As a whole, Western society isn't very good at supporting those who are grieving. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that many people tend to find the subject of death uncomfortable, especially because there is nothing that can be done to 'fix' the problem. There is also a general perception that grief is something you can get over easily and in a relatively short period of time, in much the same way as you'd recover from an infection. Unfortunately this misperception is perpetuated because people, despite their best intentions, don't really understand the complexity of grief. What often ends up happening is that they become impatient with the bereaved person's so-called 'lack of progress' and say things that imply they should be better by now. The problem is that grief is not widely understood - grieving is a process of adjustment and new learning that cannot be hurried."

A sense of relief washed over my little blue heart as I finished that last line. I thought to myself, "At last! Someone has articulated the emotions of my painful heart." With the book in my hand, I ran to my husband to show it to him. I needed to get this book but my circumstances didn't allow me that day. But a few days ago, on an outing with my mom, I found myself almost dragging my feet while walking toward the shelf holding this book. I was afraid it had been purchased by some lucky soul. I felt a grin creeping up my lips when I saw this book, nicely sitting there smiling back at me. Mom bought this book for me as an early birthday present. I needed this book. I need to read this book. I need to ease the pain in my heart.

Surprisingly, I didn't devour the book greedily as I thought I would the first time I read the above passages. I seem to be taking it slowly. Maybe I needed to make sure I don't do a slap dash job at fixing what was wrong with me. I know a year has passed since my loss. But I also know that I was being a resistant client. I'm not afraid to let go of the pain. But I am not eager to forget my soul brother in the healing process. As the book says:

"...the best advice is to take things slowly and pay attention to your inner voice. Listen to your grief. Even though, logically, you know your loved one has died, you need time to reconcile what has happened and to work out what is best for you. Unfortunately, at a time when you are likely to be most vulnerable, grieving requires you to become your best advocate by speaking up for what you need."

"Healthy grieving involves getting through all the firsts: holidays, birthdays, significant dates and the first anniversary of your loved one's death. Remember that there is no magic cure for grief. There is no quick fix."

I've survived through a few of the firsts... last year's birthdays and the first anniversary of his death. The pain is not as intense as the previous ones. But it's still there. The pain. It's still there. If only there is a switch that I can just turn off the grieving and the pain. Grief is very painful. I want it to stop. But I can't make it stop. I am hopeful that this book will guide me to a place in time where I can control myself better and this grief will be replaced with only lovely memories that will make me smile without the tears.

Goodbye 2008...

Today, I find myself at the end of 2008. As I look back at what I have been through for the past year, the emotions that come with the memories are as fresh and raw as they first occurred. Although I've been told that as I journey through this life, as I reach the end of it, I should be like a swimmer that had just swam through an ocean. As I come out of the water, at most, my body should only be wet by the briny water. But I shouldn't be trying to carry the whole ocean with me. Life is like the ocean. You go through it. Some swim through life, others crawl, walk, fly or run. However the mode of travel, no matter how beautiful some sceneries may be, its not humanly possible to collect and amass the wonders and woes that you've encountered.

As I write this entry, my mind tells me to be optimistic and hopeful that the best is yet to come in the future. But somehow, my heart is weeping and my eyes are wet, as salty as the ocean waters I had just dog-paddled through this year. Will I ever stop hurting over the lost of you, Mad? Will I ever learn to heal and be whole again? Will I ever be the same again? I know this is not how you would wish me to live my life. I'd like to consider myself as logical and practical. I may be somewhat an idealist but I have gone through enough to know that in order for me to learn through this life, I need to remain realistic as well. To some, being realistic means being pessimistic. But for me, being realistic means looking at the reality of life and dealing with it.

As a counselor that professes the benefits of Reality Therapy and Choice Theory, I am well aware of the unhappiness experienced by people whose basic needs for survival, love and belonging, power, freedom and fun are not met. In my Quality World, Mad is my soul brother who will always be there for me with his unconditional love and sincere friendship. But in reality, he's gone. I know that in order for me to move on with my life, I need to let go of my ideal; that Mad is gone and will never come back. He's gone to a place beyond my reach.

I find certain aspects of myself pretty puzzling. Just as I thought I was already okay, laughing and enjoying life as it amuses me with funny quirks and turns, suddenly a tidal wave comes crashing over me and I find myself swept ashore on the sands of depression, all spent and barely alive. I can't go on like this. I feel like a walking time-bomb, not knowing when I'm gonna have the next melt-down.

One thing I know for sure is that your heart can only feel what it does. You can change your mind and behavior. But you can never tell your heart to feel anything it doesn't. And you cannot tell your heart to not feel what it does. It will keep on feeling what it does until it's done.

As the new year opens it's door for me, I shall continue to make my journey one step at a time. Life is life. But I am me. I know what I am today. I'll just have to wait and see who I become tomorrow.

"Do not let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do." - Henry David Thoreau.

Don't Forget to Talk...

Over the last few weeks, I have busy trying to locate some respondents for my qualitative research. I needed to interview at least 6 respondents. They would have to be female above the age of 60 years old, widowed or divorced but have remained single by choice. This task was harder than I thought it would be.

Among the respondents I had the honor and the pleasure of interviewing, the last one stuck in my head for many many days and now has turned out to be my muse for this blog entry. She is about 62 years old and has been widowed for 20 years. She told me how her late mother use to keep reminding her to keep talking to her husband. My respondent went on to elaborate in great detail what her mother had meant by saying, "Jangan lupa bercakap..." or "Don't forget to talk.."

As I sat next to my husband in the car ride back home after the interview, I discussed what was said by my respondent during the interview, especially about the "Don't forget to talk" bit. My respondent felt the absence of her husband whenever she had something she wanted to share with him, even after he has passed a few months already (this is during the time when only 2 months had passed since his demise.)

I realize how important talking to each other has been for my relationship with my husband. This is also true with regards to my relationships with my two teenage daughters. I believe that when one of us is gone, the ones left behind would really miss all the talks we've had with each other and the laughter that entails.

With the advent of technology that's initially meant to improve communication methods, we would think that we would find improvement also in the quality of our communication. But can we sincerely regard sending text messages and chats on messengers as true communication when there's no eye contact and seeing facial expressions? Won't we be prone to miscommunications when we misconstrue a chat message because it lacked the human touch and gestures?

I would be lying if I were to say that my husband and I talk ALL the time. We do talk to each other a lot, discussing current issues, common interests etc. But when we're both orally tired, we do have that comforting silence between us that exudes the feeling of understanding and acceptance. A sense of belonging that needs no announcements or forced talking. Our availability to ourselves and each other radiates through the air surrounding us like the fragrant aroma of comforting coffee. We are home with each other. Whenever we are apart, we are in each others' minds and hearts. Its one of those given things.

Having said that, I still believe that talking is healthy. My profession as a counseling psychologist as proven multiple times over of how important it is to talk. Keeping things bottled up inside and yet feeling depressed when others misunderstand or don't understand us is our own undoing.

Talk. Keep on talking. Don't forget to talk. Talk while you can. Say what's on your mind. Speak of feelings felt in your heart. Love is not for keeps. Love is for giving. Love is forgiving. Its the same thing... different; but the same.

18 years have passed by and we are still talking, Yang. Go on... Keep talking, my love. I'm listening...

Along the Way...

Its almost the end of the year and I'm already all spent. 2008 began with me losing Mad, my soul brother. As much as I have tried to get over his passing, grieving is not something I can just shrug off and leave on the floor and kick under my bed. I plodded through the months half alive, trying not to think or feel. Just functioning and working on my career and Masters study.

Eidil Fitri came and went without much happy memory. Dad was hospitalized and we had no real reason to celebrate. Eidil Adha had just passed recently and another disaster had struck me. My laptop's hard drive died on me. I lost almost all my data, except for my Masters assignments folder. And then it hit me like a bulldozer. In life, along the journey, we lose things. Some things can be retrieved. But there are some losses that we may never see again. Suddenly, I am mourning the loss of Mad again. Funny how losing my data from my hard drive connects to Mad's death. I can never see him again. I can never see him again.

You'd think that a woman who is about to hit 44 in age would have the emotional maturity to accept the given facts of life. But this isn't about understanding the way life works or accepting the laws of nature. Neither is this about others. Its about ME!

Given all the things that had happened to me this year, I think I've earned the right to grieve and mourn. My emotional and psychological fatigue is justifiable. I can be strong when I have the resources to be so. But at this moment, I'm all spent. I'm all spent. I have nothing more to give. And I can't take it anymore. I'm done. For now.

Dedicated to my Soul Brother... After 10 Months

Ordinary Day

In The Name Of Love And Marriage? Bull Shit!!

Happily ever after. The popular ending to most romance stories. Unfortunately, the reality of life and marriage is not always a bed of roses. Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that I am not happily married. I am. Very much so. But I would be lying if I say it has been a trouble free 18 years of marriage. Somehow, I truly believe that all the challenges my husband and I had experienced only strengthened the bond between us. Which brings me to the true muse for this blog entry.

Over the past few months, I can't help but notice how far people would go to stay married to their spouses. Throughout my years of giving counseling to married couples since 1994, I consider seeking therapy as a healthy alternative to mending deteriorating relationships between couples. Regardless of what the symptoms are, the true source of unhappiness in relationships is actually needs that are not being fulfilled.

However, recently I have noticed a new trend. Spouses (mostly wives) resorting to witch doctors to use mojos to control their partners. I assume they are doing all this crap out of sheer desperation. But I always believe that external control is the biggest marriage killer of all times... and this includes spells and voodoos.

There are many who want to remain in a marriage out of habit. There are also those who stay due to financial reasons. Very few stay for the right reasons. I mean, if you are no longer happy with each other or neither of you are meeting each others needs, but if you still love each other, then stay and work things through. Re-negotiate any disagreements or dissatisfactions. If your partner is toxic, abusive, addicted to some form of substance or rather, then pack your bags and leave immediately. Your children will thank you for it when they're adults.

But there are those whom I call the adventurers who like to eat their cakes and have it too. You know what I mean? They have no control over their own desires and allow their lust to drive them to doing things which are harmful to themselves, their families as well as their relationships with their spouses. Infidelity is usually associated with extra-marital affairs. But there are many kinds of infidelity. Emotional infidelity is equally dangerous as the sexual counterpart.

Its undeniable that humans have needs and these needs have to be fulfilled. That is a non-negotiable thing. However, the way people go about fulfilling those needs, must not hurt or harm anyone else. Otherwise, a sleazy reputation will shadow you wherever you go.

Ask yourself what it is that you truly want. You wanna stay married to your husband? Or do you want the freedom to be with the one you're in lust with. Just don't forget that there will come a time that you will be old, grey and saggy and no one will lust after you anymore. Who will be with you then? Who will wipe your butt when you are not able to do it yourself? Look around you, Missy.... You are alone. You've cheated on your husband countless times with several men over the past decade. None of your children condone to your awful decisions and misbehavior. Your thick make-up may hide your flaws but your character stinks to high heaven. Take a good look at yourself and your life. This is a result of your own choices. Live with it. Don't blame it on others. You are not a child anymore. Grow up!

As for my husband and I, my brothers and their wives, we are still happy together. Stop pretending to be sweet and polite with us. We know your true colors from the first time we laid our eyes on you. No more fools here for you to play around with, Missy. Sorry to say the reality is my family and I are stronger than ever. Which is more than I can say for you. May Allah's wrath bring about great balls of fire upon you and your wicked mother. May both of you burn in Hell!!

Pausing To Breathe...

Unraveling my yarn, I pulled slowly at the end of my day today which began with my last blog entry. Ramadhan is now just a memory of a beautiful holiday. Syawal was no joyous celebration this time around. With dad hospitalized, the ketupat and rendang, the Raya cookies... all bland and ordinary to my numbed senses. I longed to escape. My head full of cotton balls. Absorbingly dry. My heart wept a tearless cry. My person shattered like a broken mirror, with tiny reflections of myself looking back at me and not knowing who I want to be anymore. Where is my peace of mind? Where has my soul gone to? Why do I yearn to escape me?

As I tugged at the piece of string that leads to the knotted mesh of misery, I can see the ball tightening. I know that if I keep on at this, I will end up with a bigger mess than before. I know I need to take a break. I need to escape. I need to stop thinking. I need to stop feeling. I need to piece myself together. I need to breathe.

I've come to a realization that I am not as complicated as I thought. But I have allowed my circumstances and surroundings to complicate me. I am a simple person with simple needs. Therefore, I believe that although my knotted ball of yarn may look impossible to unravel, I am able to untangle this dilemma I am facing when I have the space to sit quietly and analyze the whole scenario. And most important of all, I need to remind myself to keep breathing.

I know now that most of the issues surrounding me is of little significance. I chose to make it important. I chose to espouse a cause that was not mine to begin with. To put it crudely, this is NOT my monkey to carry. I believe that how I choose to behave toward my parents will reflect my values and predict my future appreciation of my spouse. I am grateful for the strict upbringing that was given to my brothers and I, for our present conduct and decisions are more refined and polished. We are not rude nor uncouth. My mother has successfully brought us up polite and respectful. I can't say the same of others. The difference between us and the others are starkly overt.

The moment I saw that my plate was over-flowing with matters beyond my capacity to handle, I decided to be more careful with my choices. I decided to simplify my life. There's no more room for burdens that are not mine. Others will just have to learn to be less a burden and more responsible. I shall not make anymore excuses for them. As difficult as it was for me to do it, I learned to let go.

So, here I am now.... Sitting quietly and breathing. Why have I not been blogging for so long? Because I was too busy with the problems of others. Why I am able to sit and compose an entry now? Because I paused, evaluated and prioritized, and simplified my thoughts. Now I am simply me again. And it feels good. I am me again. For as long as I keep breathing....