Listen

We talk 
but you do not listen.
we tell you
but you ignore.
we try to explain
but you brush it off.
we cry
but you do not hear.

you scoff
and say that nothing is wrong,
that we are okay.

watch out
we will be gone one day.

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Published in: on September 16, 2017 at 10:11 am  Leave a Comment  
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When Moms Attack

My Mom has come to visit and she has been staying with my sister, who needs her more. And it is fine by me. I see her occasionally, she comes over or we talk on the phone and chat about Korean dramas, my sister, my nieces and my Mom’s siblings.
I forgot how my Mom is. How she reacts to certain situations, her views about life and everything else and how negative, how much of a pessimist she can become.
Recently, she posted a picture of the family celebrating my son’s bday party. And I have given her explicit instructions not to post pictures of me because right now I do not look my best – I hate my hair, I am overweight and depressed.
Imagine my surprise and dread when I opened up my mail (I do not go on Facebook anymore) and got an email notification that I have been tagged in a posted picture. Sure enough, there I was in my most unflattering glory – fat hanging out, face as big as a dinner plate, guts spilling. Talk about reality staring at you right in the face.
I then immediately sent a text message to my Mom: ” OMG! I am so fat and ugly in that picture you posted!” Her reply: “hahaha, you really need to lose weight. I am watching a Korean drama”.
My co-workers tried their best to cheer me up after they saw my crest-fallen face and got the story but it just really bothered me.
I decided then and there that I will not go back home to subject myself to more criticism and negativity. I refuse to give in.

Brain Dead 

I thought that I have chased the demons away

The cobwebs that slowly crept in my brain

The fog that covers my mind

The emptiness, the blank, the hollow.

But – 

They’re back

Or maybe

They never left. 

Of Christmas trees and flickering lights 

  For the first time in forever,
there was no sadness nor loneliness.
None of the melancholy I feel
every Christmas time.

The tree is up,
the lights are on
and I am so glad to be home.

When I’m Gone

Image credits: lorispring

For the first time in my entire life, I had fleeting thoughts of being gone. That I will be better off gone than alive, present and miserable. It scared me afterwards but the feeling that I will be free of my pain was very tempting.

I told my therapist who suggested marriage counseling. To address the problem and to let my husband know that I am miserable. That his controlling ways have left me inadequate, inferior and scared.

I should have seen it – from the very first stages of our relationship he did a lot of things that, looking back – was very controlling, selfish and mean.

Case in point: I love fashion ever since I was a kid, wearing scarves, accessorizing. And when I was a teenager and in my 20’s, I had fun with expressing myself by wearing what I want. My now husband told me then that I should tone down my dressing style. And I did. He didn’t want male friends to be too close to me. My male friends noticed and they told him so. My best friend warned me about him, one of my male friends said he kissed and tell. I lost my male friends, my childhood friends, and my best friend.

All of these I never saw before. If I did, I justified it by thinking that since he’s older, he has this “I’m in charge personality”. Instead of controlled, I felt protected and sheltered.

Fast forward 20 something years later – he has not changed. Any single thing that I do, I do it wrong. Almost anything that I like, he blocks, disapproves, he negates. If I so much as leave home and spend time with my girlfriends – he calls me every 30 minutes to an hour. He gets mad when I do things with other people, or when he sees me having fun. Relatives visit and although he entertains, cooks and talk to them, he is mean to me and demands that my attention not be diverted. He has a set goal for me and the kids – he is big on title, brought on my his strict, egocentric upbringing. Older son has to be a doctor, younger son can be a dentist or can also be a doctor. And me? He wants me to have that title – to define me. Because otherwise, he can’t tell people what I am doing. One time he told me that I should take a master’s degree or else I will be answering phones the rest of my life. My co-worker was so mad! “Does he know what you do? That is an insult to you, how valuable you are to the company. How dedicated you are to your job”. I just shrug my shoulders.

Last month, I just had it. And that’s when that fleeting thought came to me. I know that if I run away he is going to find ways. He is vindictive and mean. I told him once or twice: “you are the meanest person I know.” And so I thought, I will finally be free – to choose, to be me – without judgment, without disapproval, without being made to feel so small.

Published in: on August 15, 2015 at 8:00 pm  Comments (2)  
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I’m Not Okay

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It’s Christmas time and yes I am afraid. Because for some unknown reason, every Christmas to me marks a time of sadness, darkness, frustration and helplessness.

Today, my husband and I put up the tree. And my mood quickly went from uncaring to somber. I tried to go on and hoped that he wouldn’t notice. But he did. He tried by changing the music – not Christmas music, I said. And he did change it but my mood just didn’t perk up. I tried to do things- get stuff from the attic, getting the boys to help and decoration with what I have on hand. He asked me again: “are you okay”
Me: “I am not okay”
Him:”what can I do to help you?”
Me: “nothing, just don’t mind me”
Him : “because it affects me, you know?”
And the tone was in the snap-out-of-it-because-I’m-sick-of-it tone. The it-is-affecting-my-mood-and-I-hate-to-be-bothered. He wanted me to change my mood because it is such an inconvenience to him.

So here I am again. I thought I was okay.
But I am not.

Week 3 – Anniversary

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Thanksgiving 2013 will go down in my personal history as the time I was at my lowest. I was in a deep dark hole and I was unable to get out of the rut I was in. That time, I finally acknowledged that I have major depression. And I know I needed help. I have, after all, had a most recent experience with my son.

One year later and I am seeing both a psychiatrist and a therapist. I have been taking medication on a daily basis while I struggle day by day. And last week, as I was bracing for the “anniversary”, I made plans. I refused to be in the same deep hole as before.

I invited people for thanksgiving, I bought craft materials, just in case,  bought a book and made plans to clean and organize the house. Things were looking up.

Or so I thought.

3 days before Thanksgiving, I had an argument with my sister.

2 days before Thanksgiving, I learned that the person we planned the get-together with was not coming. After I called and asked to confirm that they’ll come and to make sure meal planning will be in order.

1 day before thanksgiving, I saw my therapist. And we talked about all that have transpired leading to the anniversary.

I am doing okay though. It was just my family but we gave thanks as we shared a meal, had a movie night and as it turns out – a friend and cousin came for Thanksgiving and we had 2 glasses of margarita each.

Overall, the anniversary turned out okay.

Week 1: Slowly But Surely

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And so I was able to get through the week. I buried myself in work and tried my best to keep busy – physically and emotionally. And it worked. My days seemed shorter as I was able to find things that needed my attention. My OCD tendencies proved to be a big help this time. My love of organizing things when the mood hits me proved to be beneficial. The days would end with me exhausted but hopeful for the next day, what task I will tackle tomorrow.

The days have gotten colder. And as my “anniversary”, the time I was officially diagnosed with major depressive disorder, is drawing near, I brace myself. I have acknowledged that I might go down into a downward spiral again. But I take it one day, one step at a time.

I invited people over, I am getting rid of stuff that does not work for us anymore, and it is both cathartic and euphoric.

I have yet to meet with my therapist. I will see her next week and will recount my tale of abandonment.

I am trying very hard to be positive though. I will get through this. I will.

Image credits: http://www.fanpop.com

Published in: on November 14, 2014 at 10:45 pm  Comments (1)  
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