3 years ago, I wrote a short story with a remarkable plot.
In fact, now I marvel at my maturity for writing about such a controversial theme, being a christian, often we do not touch on such topics. I've re-written the short into several forms over the years, but the gist of it is that it begins with a car accident along a highway in Canada. A couple was found - the guy died but the lady survived after some trouble. It seems like a tragic accident but in reality, the guy was married to someone else and the infidelity was discovered only upon the accident and his death. Then, the lady was diagnosed with amnesia, a form of it (retrogade) due to brain injury and this made her only able to remember him, and their love. It's a love story which makes you think about the thoughts of all the characters and the difficult position they find themselves in. A father who has a daughter who can only remember one man. A wife who thought her husband was faithful. And how about the 'true love' story we have always hoped for. Different kinds of love, questioned.
I'm not sure what prompted me to write the story. Sometimes we think too much about life but sometimes life is stranger than fiction.
Everyone always wishes to be someone's true love story, like the movie 'Enchanted' which I think is pretty realistic - both prince and princess realizes their true love is someone... well, more suitable than the alleged match. And sometimes when a relationship ends, it doesn't mean that they don't love each other. Love hurts. It's a nice feeling to have someone caring for you but at the end of the day, you have to spend the rest of your life with the person. (If you love someone who is in his 60s, it's only twenty years though. Haha!) I can't proclaim that I am full of life experiences, being at a funny age where I am neither young nor old, neither full of youthful enthusiasm nor really jaded... Maybe at the age where if I decide to take collagen and vitamins and exercise regularly it will save me from cellulite and auntish-lookingness. But we judge too much. What if the love comes later for some, or in the form of a much younger/older person? What if two people who are very different and have no chemistry still can make it rock due to shared ideals and a deep love? For my generation, it's often thought but not said aloud: If it doesn't work, we can leave. Yes, either before or after marriage. I think we are both wise enough and selfish enough to know that we have options unlike past generations. Some people make bad choices when they were younger, why judge them for righting the wrong... some people are just not meant to be. I really don't know right now if I will choose never going to Europe to have kids.... you know those kind of choices. As a singleton said, "I think I will still WANT to go to Europe after all!"
But when it really comes to those kind of choices, it's really tough.
Especially when it's your whole lifetime in front of you.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
amnesia
Well, after having another more massive panic attack which reminded me of my childhood asthma days, I went to the doc's again for more (effective) stuff and a dose of good christian advice.
For those interested in medicine, you can wiki (I'm not sure how accurate though) Lorazepam and Zopiclone. I had a depressive period some years ago without treatment, yes, all creative people have the 'blue zone' surfacing in instances; so, I'm not that keen to go through it all again, being older and wiser. For Lora, it makes me very subdued, sort of sad-looking and sometimes wanna burst into tears and sometimes actually doing so. For Zopi, wow! It's what a super extrovert would look like. I couldn't stop talking and looked so upbeat and friendly and... there was no stop-gap from the brain to the tongue, just said what's on my mind. Like outright 'nos' to people's requests very undiplomatically, and I keep laughing to myself, at my own jokes. But both have really scary side effects that I'm getting. (I do hope I'm not sleepwalking!) Well anyways, some nights I have 3 dreams in a single night, sometimes I kick, and been muttering too. It's all very tiring and actually interesting, in a morbid way. Luckily because of the meds I don't remember any of them now, just a slight impression of the feeling I had.
A friend wiser than her years told me she, including all my dear friends, saw how I loved him and had taken this relationship seriously (unlike the rest, I am so sorry) so she told me, at the end of the day, it's up to you to choose your own happiness. And I think it's true. I've been blessed by having some say too many guys' attentions in my life (so not true), but at least the ones that mattered were mutual, and understanding and having real solid sincere guy friends does help me in my general outlook on relationships and not being too clingy or insecure. In fact, and I've known this all along, I have quite a high self-esteem, most books say it's a good thing compared to a low one I guess. So, in a way I can't empathise with people who wallow in self-pity, I'm quite condescending really, or understand some things that others are going through. It's not so good in that sense, and I am trying hard to feel more and on the other hand, not to think so much. Which I've been told to by kindred spirits who can read me. It's nice to be understood you know?
Because most of my life, my thinking is so unconventional/unique/weird that I felt so alone and misread and misunderstood. I didn't really care what others thought due to my high self esteem, but inside? I always knew. And inside, I always wanted to be with some one stable, solid, normal, decent. All I asked was 'God please make him tall' and some one I could chat the night away with. I never liked being unconventional anyway, it never benefited me in anyway (no $ to be made here) so don't praise me for my quirky thoughts.
I'm glad for the amnesia side effect because I honestly don't remember saying things I said, short term memory loss. And other shocking things I did or heard. It's too drama really. Please let things be back to normal and good and happy.
For those interested in medicine, you can wiki (I'm not sure how accurate though) Lorazepam and Zopiclone. I had a depressive period some years ago without treatment, yes, all creative people have the 'blue zone' surfacing in instances; so, I'm not that keen to go through it all again, being older and wiser. For Lora, it makes me very subdued, sort of sad-looking and sometimes wanna burst into tears and sometimes actually doing so. For Zopi, wow! It's what a super extrovert would look like. I couldn't stop talking and looked so upbeat and friendly and... there was no stop-gap from the brain to the tongue, just said what's on my mind. Like outright 'nos' to people's requests very undiplomatically, and I keep laughing to myself, at my own jokes. But both have really scary side effects that I'm getting. (I do hope I'm not sleepwalking!) Well anyways, some nights I have 3 dreams in a single night, sometimes I kick, and been muttering too. It's all very tiring and actually interesting, in a morbid way. Luckily because of the meds I don't remember any of them now, just a slight impression of the feeling I had.
A friend wiser than her years told me she, including all my dear friends, saw how I loved him and had taken this relationship seriously (unlike the rest, I am so sorry) so she told me, at the end of the day, it's up to you to choose your own happiness. And I think it's true. I've been blessed by having some say too many guys' attentions in my life (so not true), but at least the ones that mattered were mutual, and understanding and having real solid sincere guy friends does help me in my general outlook on relationships and not being too clingy or insecure. In fact, and I've known this all along, I have quite a high self-esteem, most books say it's a good thing compared to a low one I guess. So, in a way I can't empathise with people who wallow in self-pity, I'm quite condescending really, or understand some things that others are going through. It's not so good in that sense, and I am trying hard to feel more and on the other hand, not to think so much. Which I've been told to by kindred spirits who can read me. It's nice to be understood you know?
Because most of my life, my thinking is so unconventional/unique/weird that I felt so alone and misread and misunderstood. I didn't really care what others thought due to my high self esteem, but inside? I always knew. And inside, I always wanted to be with some one stable, solid, normal, decent. All I asked was 'God please make him tall' and some one I could chat the night away with. I never liked being unconventional anyway, it never benefited me in anyway (no $ to be made here) so don't praise me for my quirky thoughts.
I'm glad for the amnesia side effect because I honestly don't remember saying things I said, short term memory loss. And other shocking things I did or heard. It's too drama really. Please let things be back to normal and good and happy.
Monday, September 20, 2010
sick
I've always wondered why I have panic attacks triggered, not what they are triggered by.
The inability to breathe, regurgitation of food or saliva and tightening of chest is truly scary. Being unable to speak coherently as well, it's most frightening and you wonder 'Am I going to die?' At the point of time it truly feels like you can stop breathing and k.o.
I had childhood asthma, so have weakened lungs. It's recently been proven that people with asthma have panic attacks but I sorta knew it all along.
Guess it's time to pay my GP another visit. Sigh. Last month it was allergic rhinitis now I just need something for anxiety. Signs of aging or a mental/physical deterioation. In any case, not that good. I hope I can exercise more, maybe keep my heart rate up at least twice a week. Being naturally quite thin I fail to foresee looking sporty and healthy does not equate to being so, inside.
Now, if anyone can do something about my nightmares...
The inability to breathe, regurgitation of food or saliva and tightening of chest is truly scary. Being unable to speak coherently as well, it's most frightening and you wonder 'Am I going to die?' At the point of time it truly feels like you can stop breathing and k.o.
I had childhood asthma, so have weakened lungs. It's recently been proven that people with asthma have panic attacks but I sorta knew it all along.
Guess it's time to pay my GP another visit. Sigh. Last month it was allergic rhinitis now I just need something for anxiety. Signs of aging or a mental/physical deterioation. In any case, not that good. I hope I can exercise more, maybe keep my heart rate up at least twice a week. Being naturally quite thin I fail to foresee looking sporty and healthy does not equate to being so, inside.
Now, if anyone can do something about my nightmares...
Saturday, September 18, 2010
hurt
It hurts, it really hurts.
I thought I was loved. I thought things were okay - maybe some expectations needed to be managed, some things could be worked through. After all, we had shared similar goals in life and common ideals. But I was mistaken. I never knew he could turn out to be such a monster, making mountains out of molehills, accusing me with things I have not done and left me, with a bad memory, of sad times. I'm very tired. Many times my feedback has gone unanswered. He never bothers to hold my hand. Or care if I'm cold. Or even call me by my name. Isn't that the basic fundamentals of being in a relationship, that two people are supposed to care for each other, their hearts open and attuned to each other? I remember way back when he knows I was whimpering, he immediately rushed down to see if I'm okay. Then later, the panic attacks came when I was very upset and choked and could not breathe because my lungs were too stressed, but he did not even bother to hold me or wipe away the tears. Then later, he just went fishing and left me in my sadness.
I've really tried to hold the fort, to be enthusiastic about the future, to want to share something good. I've been holding it in for too long. I'm so tired. I really don't want to shed any more tears. So I should move on, just take it as a bad dream, that all these happened, that it was not resolved but I have to accept an abrupt end, where no one wants to commit to anything.
I never knew it could hurt this bad.
I thought I was loved. I thought things were okay - maybe some expectations needed to be managed, some things could be worked through. After all, we had shared similar goals in life and common ideals. But I was mistaken. I never knew he could turn out to be such a monster, making mountains out of molehills, accusing me with things I have not done and left me, with a bad memory, of sad times. I'm very tired. Many times my feedback has gone unanswered. He never bothers to hold my hand. Or care if I'm cold. Or even call me by my name. Isn't that the basic fundamentals of being in a relationship, that two people are supposed to care for each other, their hearts open and attuned to each other? I remember way back when he knows I was whimpering, he immediately rushed down to see if I'm okay. Then later, the panic attacks came when I was very upset and choked and could not breathe because my lungs were too stressed, but he did not even bother to hold me or wipe away the tears. Then later, he just went fishing and left me in my sadness.
I've really tried to hold the fort, to be enthusiastic about the future, to want to share something good. I've been holding it in for too long. I'm so tired. I really don't want to shed any more tears. So I should move on, just take it as a bad dream, that all these happened, that it was not resolved but I have to accept an abrupt end, where no one wants to commit to anything.
I never knew it could hurt this bad.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
nightmares every night
I've been having nightmares or weird dreams every night since... well, since the time around this ghost month started. I've always been sensitive and maybe this time round it's due to being too sensitive, too. An author told me (I hope jokingly) that remembering my dreams means that I'm going to die soon. Am I? The truth is, I can remember them for about an hour or so after I wake up and not immediately before. And then I tell whoever happens to be in the vicinity of me, and then I forget about it and have another nightmare. Even in Melbourne I dreamt there were people suffocating me and stuff. I shall document them here.
Last night's.
I was asleep on a stranger's bed, the house was kampung-like and had a friendly atmosphere, could be in Malaysia, a small village. I was very tired, jetlagged feeling, and just curled up on a bed in their hall which they were kind enough to lend me (the family who lived there.) I sensed there was an old man who also rested on the foot of my bed and paid him no attention, was too tired. But I opened my eyes from time to time and found him lying beside me! I immediately called for help and the uncle owner of the house 'apprehended' him, he was a frail old man... I too, used my hands and twisted his foot till it was facing the ceiling...
Then I drifted off to sleep and the next scene was in a school or community of some sort. I spotted this guy who had once traumatised me years ago but now I'm over it. However, he was wearing a large thick red hoodie in the dream and was menacing enough to make me spot him in the distance and I made my way to find an escape route (not going past him). He was wearing a hypocritical smile, the sort that he wanted to portray that he was chillin' out and having fun but inside, he was full of anxious thoughts and perplexing nerves. The sort I could see right through. And that's all I can remember, until tomorrow night.
Last night's.
I was asleep on a stranger's bed, the house was kampung-like and had a friendly atmosphere, could be in Malaysia, a small village. I was very tired, jetlagged feeling, and just curled up on a bed in their hall which they were kind enough to lend me (the family who lived there.) I sensed there was an old man who also rested on the foot of my bed and paid him no attention, was too tired. But I opened my eyes from time to time and found him lying beside me! I immediately called for help and the uncle owner of the house 'apprehended' him, he was a frail old man... I too, used my hands and twisted his foot till it was facing the ceiling...
Then I drifted off to sleep and the next scene was in a school or community of some sort. I spotted this guy who had once traumatised me years ago but now I'm over it. However, he was wearing a large thick red hoodie in the dream and was menacing enough to make me spot him in the distance and I made my way to find an escape route (not going past him). He was wearing a hypocritical smile, the sort that he wanted to portray that he was chillin' out and having fun but inside, he was full of anxious thoughts and perplexing nerves. The sort I could see right through. And that's all I can remember, until tomorrow night.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
feel like writing
I just felt like writing so much today (Yes, I'm amazingly fantastic and can multitask while still doing top notch work!) I wrote letters to my Ches, email buddy for years and to my best friend in Melbourne. And I still felt like writing so much that I just opened a Word document and wrote and wrote. I guess after so long of not putting pen to paper or... finger to keyboard, there are words wanting to get out.
I miss writing and receiving letters. I remember in our school days, we used to write little notes on perfect crafted stationery - suzy zoo was coveted for its rarity and quality... and the usual disney characters and the minimalist muji paper. I think I wished that I could write letters, always, yes, despite the current trend of short messages on different platforms. I think love letters eschew something that can be immortalized, something to go back to when times get rough. Of course, no one wants to write and write and have their letters go unanswered. But at the very least, anniversary and birthday letters and cards and what's written in them are something to cherish.
I've always wanted someone to appreciate my writings or at least feel a connection to it and if I had the choice to express myself, it's always more coherent in words than in actions or maybe saying out loud. Been told today, jokingly or not, that 'I think too much'. Well, I find that a keen observation. I'm always deep in thought in my otherworld, my utopia, my dreamland of a place more idealistic than the current one we are in.
But after all, thoughts are just thoughts and words on paper say more through meaning than words uttered and forgotten.
I miss writing and receiving letters. I remember in our school days, we used to write little notes on perfect crafted stationery - suzy zoo was coveted for its rarity and quality... and the usual disney characters and the minimalist muji paper. I think I wished that I could write letters, always, yes, despite the current trend of short messages on different platforms. I think love letters eschew something that can be immortalized, something to go back to when times get rough. Of course, no one wants to write and write and have their letters go unanswered. But at the very least, anniversary and birthday letters and cards and what's written in them are something to cherish.
I've always wanted someone to appreciate my writings or at least feel a connection to it and if I had the choice to express myself, it's always more coherent in words than in actions or maybe saying out loud. Been told today, jokingly or not, that 'I think too much'. Well, I find that a keen observation. I'm always deep in thought in my otherworld, my utopia, my dreamland of a place more idealistic than the current one we are in.
But after all, thoughts are just thoughts and words on paper say more through meaning than words uttered and forgotten.
Monday, September 13, 2010
to aussieland and back
I recently had a lunchtime chat with a male colleague and they always want to know what's on a woman's mind. As always, it comes down to asking, would I like a rich man? Of course, I answered. You could see the disappointment etched on his face, typecasting me into those materialistic Singaporean worker lady. Of course, if the question was phrased another way, IE: 'If you could choose to be on the richer side or the poorer side which would you choose' - I think the answer would not be met with such judgmental criticism. But actually, both are the same question if you think about it really... ... and I later explained that it's more of the character, the "nengkan" kind that I am looking for and hopefully have one here... =) If the guy was rich, and then became bankrupt, and then rich again, bankrupt again - the high risk takers, I wouldn't like to be a partner of those kind. I couldn't take the stress and unpredictability of it. I guess most of us are looking for stability in a relationship - but he can't be too boring either. A little adventure and romance would be good.
Most of all, he should be able to help me fulfil my dreams.
What are my dreams, the colleague asked, curious.
Well, I said my dreams are to.... travel the world! HAHA!
Jokes aside, it's nice to do some traveling while I'm still young. I'm not really into travelling when I'm old and graying. And definitely not keen to travel with excess baggage of diapers and kids in tow. I think it is really draining... I think this mentality leads to me being a spender and not a saver... it just does not work both ways!
So the big trip this year (Big as in expensive and long duration....) was to Melbourne!
Went down the Great Ocean Road, a place I did not get to visit last year. Also saw more of Victoria Market, and shopped loads more. Camberwell Sunday Market was a new find and it does make it to my list of must-go-places next time round. Best of all, was the catching up with friends for me and relatives for The Boyfriend. Hey, first time attending a 'western' wedding and I must say... it's almost as boring as the Chinese dinner. I think I'm truly not a fan of weddings... Although the dancing was quite fun (more to digest the rich food and to keep warm.)
It was pretty cold this round, so cold that the ski season in the mountains was extended a further 2 weeks. I think I prefer temperature of above 10deg, there were mornings that it hit 5, 7... and it was torturous getting out of bed or even going to the toilet for that matter! I loved it though that I didn't sweat, could wear the same pjs each night (it feels clean!) and the frosty winds closed up my face pores and I could wear makeup...and non waterproof mascara...and lipstick... and look great! Over here it's more like... hopefully the makeup doesn't become an oil slick due to the sweat and heat.
I think the thing I love most about traveling is that it's kinda like an escape from reality. Or rather, the unpleasant aspects about living in where you're living in. For those from the city, a countryside or kampung (not too extreme kampung) holiday would be nice, vice versa for those countryside people to come to the city for a bit. We can be who we want to be, the nice side of ourselves as well - feeling happy as larks on weekends and also shopping for unique items that can't be found here adds to our happy feeling. I got boots for A$15! Beat that! And a whole spring-summer collection from Valleygirl and Witchery! It's always good to go away for a while and I'm always thinking how blessed I am to have been to the places I've been... it was tough saving up for it and making plans, but the experience gained more than makes up for it. I shall irritate everyone with my faux Aussie accent... Lovely!
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