Beyond Fixing

You don't need to say it. I know I'm beyond fixing. There's no cure for what I have. I don't think there's even a word to describe it accurately. You didn't fail me. I'm beyond fixing.

Itchy Fingers Pounding Keys

I'm sorry. There's an absence of enthusiasm in my choice of words for this entry, which is highly unsimilar to entries I've made in the past around the end or beginning of a year. Maybe it's because I am 6 kg overweight due to water retention and my face is veiled with a mask of angry and itchy rashes. 

Let's recap 2012 in a paragraph: besieged by a strange ailment that rendered me unable to speak, the death of my much loved grandfather, the passing of my brother-in-law on my birthday, a fall that caused me to suffer from slipped disc and unable to walk for almost 3 weeks, frozen shoulder that gives me terrible pains and muscle spasms which has lasted until now. In a nutshell, 2012 was hell for me.

Of course, when compared to the plight of those more unfortunate than me, my life would resemble a day in paradise. I mean, I'm hardly starving or dying. Nor am I homeless or penniless. Or many other worse things my morbid mind is capable of conjuring up in this ungodly hour of the night. To be fair, I have survived quite a bit of struggles of my own, although some quarters would accuse me of being a cry baby or drama queen for even mentioning my so called troubles.

But the point is I survived. And I find it truly insulting when someone trivializes my sufferings simply because I survived them. Does pain become nothing after it has stopped? Don't the tears shed mean nothing now that the suffering has ended?

Please excuse my ramblings. I have to keep on typing just so I can stop my fingers from scratching the itchy rashes on my face. Yes. My face is full of rashes. And this is a huge deal for me right now. Wanna know why? Because it's the only one I have to face this world!

Many advice pivot around the same topic. Forget the past. Let it go. But I reckon we need to be careful what we forget and what we let go. Because almost everyone we already have in our lives currently has a part in our past. Are we to forget them too? What exactly are we suppose to forget? Because if everyone I know forgets their past, and since I'm a part of it, I would be forgotten too. And so would they. How would they like to be forgotten?

Apologies. It's not enough to say you're sorry if it doesn't come along with a promise never to do it again. It has to come with a question, "How can I make up for all the wrongs I have done?"An apology does not buy you permission to repeat your misdoings. Forgiveness should not be abused in such manner.

I've come to the realization that I've done a terrible thing: accommodate. I've taken all I was served and refashioned myself until I am beyond recognition. I look at myself in the mirror and I don't know who that stranger is. All in the name of pleasing others. All in the name of tolerance and acceptance. And what has that amounted for me? I've lost myself. I've got nothing left to give. So, what gives?

For those who have the inclination of personalizing anything and everything I write or say, here's a newsflash for you: this is NOT about you. This is MY BLOG. It's about me. These are my thoughts. I use this blog to vent my thoughts. 

The ground is shaky all around me. This is hardly the time to set up a home and grow deep roots. I must wait until there's calmness again. I don't know when that will be. Meanwhile, I plough through. Soldier on, Johana. The world is watching. 

Keeping An Even Keel

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that I've barely written a word throughout this year. What can I say except that I've been genuinely speechless... in all sense of the word. My beloved grandfather passed away mid January this year, leaving me silent in grief. And before I could recover from that, I took an awful fall and suffered slipped disc that rendered me unable to walk for almost 3 weeks. Shortly after, my shoulder began to give me searing pains. Apparently, this pain has decided to extend its stay indefinitely.

I guess no one is immune to life's curveballs. This is evident in all the Facebook updates and goes on endlessly in my news feed. Although I notice that generally people do try to keep things brave and inspirational (although I am still uncertain whether that is for their own benefit or for others'), on many occasions, I see rantings and ravings of frustrated souls.

I understand very well how reading relentless complaints can come across as self-absorbed and ungrateful. God knows I'm guilty of doing the very same countless times. But I also often remind myself to make a mention when good things are happening and I am happy. This is my way of striking a balance in my own mind. However, this year has been exceptionally hard on me. And that is why I had decided to remain silent as far as blogging is concerned.

I sense that I am undergoing some internal changes. I am uncertain of many things about myself. Yet, one thing remains the same: The sense of security is very important to me. Now more than ever, I seek to find stability in a holistic manner. Inner peace has eluded me much of this year. As a matter of fact, I have not felt peace for a very long time. I'm still uncertain on how to regain it, if I ever had it at all. There's several weeks left to this year. Lets see how things will unravel.

I must remind myself to remain patient and wait until the dust settles before I make any decisions on what to do next. It's only responsible of me to must test all waters and grounds to ensure all the options I weigh won't collapse under my feet. Meanwhile, I must stand firm on the very spot I'm standing on now and observe my surroundings. I deserve to go for what I seriously need and not settle for anything less. My grandfather always made sure I had a taste of the best of life. I believe he did that simply because he believed I deserve the best. 

I believe that, too. And that's what I shall strive to achieve.

I love you, Wan.

Al Fatihah for Tan Sri Abdul Aziz Bin Zain.

Oh, What the Heck!

I was beginning to notice a pattern in the kind of looks I would consider attractive in a man, through several eye candies I've come across on TV and movies. Apart from the obvious good looks, sharp features, etc; what I find to be most attractive is the smile. But what was most astounding to me is the revelation: their smiles remind me of someone's smile. Dayyum! 

See for yourself!

Brendan Fraser

Ian Somerhalder

Jeffrey Dean Morgan

Robert Downey Jr.

Gary: My first love.

"First romance, first love, is something so special to all of us, both emotionally and physically, that it touches our lives and enriches them forever."- Rosemary Rogers.

A Diary of My Face

In this blog entry, I would like to attempt writing some reflections on what my appearance has meant to me over the years. Obviously, this journey is not over. And neither will this entry be done... Until I am done. 

Come sit by me and take a peek into the windows of my life.

 Age 9

I think my face reflects the precociousness I was well known for during my childhood years. I was brought up to obey but I danced to my own drum beat. 

Age 16

During this stage of my adolescence, I cared very little for the way I looked. I was fun loving, carefree, and a little tomboyish. No make up except for the occasional lip gloss mom would allow me to wear for special events.

Age 20

By this time, I had begun experimenting with make up and discovered hairstyles that could frame my face nicely. I was eager to experience the bright and adventurous world that was awaiting me.

Age 23

I had just returned from the UK and was heavily influenced by the fashion trend of the time. I was into sun tanning and opted for the sun-kissed look with highlighted hair. Yeah, I was bold in my dressing too. When you have it, flaunt it. That was my credo.

Age 25

The big day. I kept my curls natural but my make up could hardly be kept to a bare minimum. I was nervous to begin my life with new roles. My head was full of ideals.

Age 28

The joys of motherhood. I bloomed and matured very quickly when Jazelia was born. I discovered abilities and capabilities I never knew I had. 

Age 31

The birth of Jelissa taught me the true meaning of sacrifice and unconditional love. This was also the year I learned to face my fears. A life changing moment happened during this phase of my life.

Age 36

I have arrived. I found me. I was at peace.

Age 40

I stumbled upon my own inner boundaries that were invisible to me before. I struggled to learn ways to deal with them and communicating them to my loved ones. It wasn't easy. It still isn't.

Age 44

The greatest academic achievement of my life! Graduating with Masters in Counseling Psychology was something I never dreamed I could do. And here it is! I did it!!

Age 46

This is where I am now. My face has acquired some wrinkles and some darn crows have been dancing on the side of my eyes. Yes, some people call them laugh lines. I agree. The wrinkles on my face speak of my journey beyond words. Take a good look at them and you will see the challenges I faced, the tears I cried, the sweat I labored, the anxieties I suffered and the wisdom I've gained having gone through the life that was designed for me and me alone. 

I Hear Voices...

Its already 6 a.m and I'm still wide awake. Nothing out of the ordinary, considering my circadian rhythm disorder has synchronized my sleeping hours to British time, I should be feeling sleepy any time soon. But before I shut down my precious macBook and head to bed, I thought its best to unload some of the happenings in my mind. I believe this as a precautionary measure in ensuring these matters don't manifest into unpleasant dreams. I mean, if I have to sleep so un-ordinarily from others, the very least I could ask for is a good and restful slumber. Is that too much...?

I am taking a huge risk in writing this down. But my courage comes from believing that I may not be the only one who experiences this occasionally, if not often enough. Some may judge the remainder of this entry with utter disdain, probably a hearty guffaw will bubble up the throat, a malicious smirk, racing heart fueled by anger, and a myriad more of other interesting but equally possible reactions. Do I care? Do I really care? Not really. Because its been shown to me many, many times how people will still lie, twist my truth, fabricate fiction and manipulate facts just so they can hate themselves a little less before they sleep at nights. They are sad, pathetic bunch of crap shit. They don't deserve my care of worry. I just afford a speck of pity for them. Oops! Sorry. I've even given that away to the more deserving stray dog on the street. At least they don't bite the hands that feed them.

I hate stating the obvious but since it can't be made overtly evident in writing, I guess I have to. Here it is. I hear voices. There are several that I hear. The following are the most frequently heard.

Voices of the Past:

My mom telling the 3 year old me that I am jealous of my younger brother. As the years progressed, I made sure to learn exactly what mom meant and with great determination, made sure that darkness inside me is banished for good. Now I am happy to say that I love my brother Eri whole heartedly, without envy or jealousy. I am proud and glad that I achieved that.

Voices of Pain:

The sound of quarrels and fights between two people who love each other but are very disappointed in one another. It caused fear in me and makes my body tremble to hear sudden loud noises. I braced myself to make sure I don't get hysterical. Now I know that anger is tool used by people to control others: spouses, children, students, lovers... Why do I call this "voice of pain" instead of "voice of anger'? Because it hurts to be manipulated by emotional threats. Physical wounds heal and may leave almost invisible scars. Alas, the emotional wounds never heal. Some are forgotten. But never healed.

Voices of Anger:

The things I wish I had said when instead I held my tongue and kept silent. These dialogues repeat themselves ad nauseam in my head, especially when a blanket of silence drapes over home and everyone is lulled in dreamland. When I'm doing something I don't enjoy doing: laundry, ironing and folding clothes. That is when I really stew. I guess thats why I prefer cooking. Whatever it is, I've decided that I've done enough sacrificing for my loved ones and its time for me to live the rest of my life for ME. No one likes to have things shoved down their throats. You don't like people forcing you to do things you don't wanna do? Well, here's news for you, babe! I don't like it either.

Voices of Fear:

Worries over my future. I'm not getting any younger. My body is going through a change I can hardly control. My mind has its own agenda. My heart worries, frets and feels utter anxiety over what hell may come if I don't do something about it now. I can't afford to be old, homeless, penniless and not affording to retire or die! It doesn't help that I read in a local newspaper recently that one will need RM1 million in order to retire in the city I live in now! And even if treatment is sought in government hospitals, its NOT FREE like Facebook!

These voices speak to me in whispers. Sometimes, they come across more loudly. Like yelling. At other times, they are more nagging in manner and I can easily tune them out. Whenever insecurity shows its head, I would remind myself how far I've come, in comparison to some people who are so stuck in their rut that they just can't progress.

Before my current career, I've had several other professions that I've dabbled in. The entertainment industry, interior design and now the professional field of psychology. I may have left the other two, but I have the ability and choice to revisit them any time I wish. I can choose to sing for a gig or act as a consultant for a interior design project. I guess its just like riding a bicycle. The maliciously manipulative people may slander me and try to tarnish my good name in the entertainment industry. But honestly, it would hardly make a dent in my pocket. I don't need to have an immaculate reputation in the entertainment industry in order for me to excel in the field of psychology. Those malicious, bad mouthing bitches can NEVER enter my field of expertise simply because they are uneducated lowlifes. One day they will discover how their own reputations are already deep in the gutters due to their own bad mouths. And their voices are the ONLY ONES I will never hear in my head, simply because these are mere ramblings of attention crazy drama queens.

I've always believed that the most dangerous people are the uneducated morons who will resort to evil ways to get rid of anything that stands in their way to getting what they desire. I have been proven to be right in this belief. I've realized now that my recent chain of actions have been brought about by years of tolerance which has led to many frustrations and disappointments. I guess I couldn't take it anymore. And that is why I pulled the plug. No regrets there. I don't have to tolerate nonsense any longer.

Now that I'm traveling lighter, I sincerely believe I will go much further than ever before. Hooray for little old me!

By the way...

Paulo Coelho says that writers can only write about themselves. And he does. His journey through life. I would be naive to think that I am the only one who totally agrees with Coelho. His pen is truly mightier than his sword as a Warrior of Light. I can only dream of such brilliant talent.

In my silence, I have struggled to find the words to speak my truth. Not for lack of words in my vocabulary, but more because I lacked depth of understanding of what I am going through. Some call it midlife crisis. Others term it as pre-menopause. Experts blame it all on hormones. I, on the other hand, only know of one true thing. I am changing.

Apart from the physical signs of aging, I feel different. I think different. I know of things I don't yet know and don't know the things I know. I can't explain it. Maybe because I'm still not done. I've not reached the end of this path. And as much as I'd like to share my experience with those whom I love, I cannot. To bare my soul will be to open the door for criticism and judgment. I have enough of those within me to last my eternity. 

Although some may have their own thoughts as to my choice of companion (which, by the way, are Coelho's books), I care only for my own opinion of myself and of my own needs. After all, Coelho did articulate it perfectly by saying a reader buys whatever that reflects his/her state of mind or the status quo. My spirit is intact. It is my body that is going out of control. And I'm neither here nor there. I am not in a limbo of sort. Just in progression towards something I have yet to discover.

In my solitary introspections, I've learnt that I have never been faithful to myself. I have always strived to please others, fashioned my life to the approval of others. To conform. Just to have a sense of belonging, after which I will leave behind in search of a new sense of security. Safety. Can it be found in the darkness of solitude? And yet I have fear of loneliness. How I contradict myself continuously. Maybe its time for me to have a session with my supervisor. Maybe he can help me sort things out in my head. And still I won't be able to tell him everything. I simply cannot do that. Am I seeking understanding from him? Or just a confirmation that whatever I am going through now is normal and nothing out of the ordinary? Maybe all I need is for someone to assure me that I will be alright in the end and not doomed for hell fire. That's the tip of the iceberg for you, Freud.

Here is why I am writing this entry. A note for my loved ones and for those who are sincerely concerned for my holistic well-being. A message in a bottle from me on a stranded island:

Dear ______,

You may have not seen me as often as before. You may not have heard from me as frequently as once upon a time. I am still alive. My soul is, that is. I'm not quite sure what the hell my body is going through. And in that process, my heart and mind gets dragged along this arduous journey. This tempest within me can only be stilled by Him. In His cocoon, I am safe from harm. That, I have full faith.

But I need to be away to sort things out. I need to find out who I am now. The me you've grown to know and love, has expired its shelf date. I've been marked out. To partake in my life right now will prove to be toxic for you and our relationship. 

What was once acceptable to me no longer applies true. What used to annoy the shit out of me is now, somehow, less offensive. I guess my life is being reviewed and revised. The process is painful but necessary. I don't expect you to have the patience of a holy saint, to wait for me to come around. Please do carry on with your own life. We'll see how things are upon my return. If things we've had in the past still maintains true, so be it. If not, we know its time to embrace change.

I have learnt that I have been carrying the burden of my past on my shoulders, with a horrid garland of guilt around my neck and a crown of regrets upon my head. I cannot do that anymore. I am weary of having made bad decisions that may affect my present and my future. Right now, nothing works for me. I have to take my life apart and take a good look at each individual parts that makes up the whole of me. I have to clean every bit before putting things back together again... Not in the same way as before, mind you. It would have to be the way that suits me best now. The me that I am soon to become.

I pray for you to have patience and trust in me, that I know what I'm doing... even though, at most times, I am totally clueless. I embrace my ignorance with a shawl of curiosity and pray to God that this won't get me into further problems. I should think what I have on my plate is pretty overwhelming already, as it is.

I pray that when I am through with this journey and I reach the other side, I can still be accepted, respected, loved and understood by those who matter to me. By the very least, I would pray for my own conscience. May I be able to accept who I become when I reach the end of this meandering path into the forest.

I'm sorry I am not able to remain the same to suit your comfort zone. I'm sorry if it proves to be a challenge for you to categorize or label me into whatever method of processing you use to make sense out of everything and everyone. I'm sorry if I can't be there for you in your time of need. I need me more than anyone else, right now. And If I can't be here for me, I can never be sincerely there for anyone else.

You may not understand what I am going through right now but your turn will come, sooner or later. Be kind, so you will receive kindness when its your turn. You will find kindness most comforting and reassuring. 

Thank you for your time in reading my ramblings. I hope to return the favour in future to come.

"In my case, I did the only thing I should have done, or use my writings to get to know myself better.." - Paulo Coelho