you could've called

You met with a mutual friend

Who I haven't met for a long time

And you asked her about me

You know what?

You could've called

untitled

I dreamt of you last night.

You were so bubbly, we were so intimate.

I held your hands, asking what you've been up to.

You didn't pull your hands away, as you answered my questions.

I wish we could be that way

In this real life, too.

Building Up and Crumbling Down

I've submitted all of my assignments. Yes, what a relief. Now I should happily wait for my payment to be wired in to my bank account. But no, every now and then there will be revisions that I should make and re-submit. This alone makes me want to hide into the end of the world but the problem is the world has no end. It's a loop of madness that I can't escape from. It's just scary, you know? To have finished your work, have it checked and then sent back to you for your revision and approval. I mean, don't do that, please. Once I've submitted my task, I wouldn't want to see it again, let alone go through it again.

Now I'm also afraid of e-mail notifications. 

It's good that I have my freelance job to help me get by, and to feel like I'm rebuilding my life back, but at the same time I feel like I'm demolishing it on the other side. Like rebuilding while demolishing it all at the same time.

Argh, I really wish I have someone who I can talk to, and listen without feeling like they want to kick me to the end of the world where I can't come back to bother them again, but the world has no end, and it's a loop of madness. 

Suicidal Thought

So, I finally signed a contract as freelancer. I liked how light it made me feel, finally doing the thing that I'm so afraid of. But, I've been putting it off for almost a week and it kept bugging me, making me more and more afraid. Now it's done, I'm relieved. Good for me.

Let's talk about suicidal thought. Shall we? Or we shan't?

Anyway, there are days that I feel like doing myself in. It's been years, before and after I sought medical help. I really don't know how I managed to stay alive until this day. I know, suicidal thought sounds so dramatic and attention seeking. It's not.

Like you may have heard, or read, it's just us trying to make it stop. The anxiety. The depression. All the feelings that come with them. Waking up and feeling useless, helpless, guilty, and carrying the weight all day long, every single day. Sometimes you don't have anyone to talk to, to ease the burden, because you don't want to bore somebody with the same shit every single time. Thank God for blogs, journals and etc., although I know nobody really reads it. My blog, especially. But it's okay.

You know what keeps me going (alive)? The anticipation of things will be better again. Wait, is anticipation the right word? Well, I guess. Maybe not accurate, but okay. I keep looking forward to the day my anxiety and depression finally going away. To being genuinely happy again without a dash of guilt. To no longer feeling afraid. Well, I guess it's more to the reason that death by suicide is not covered by insurance. Yeah. But, hey, I'm still waiting and hoping for that day to come. Since the past years, since after I got the treatment. It has yet to come, but there is a period where I thought it did. False. I still think about ending my life. You know, by the least painful way. "Accidental" overdose, maybe.

I'm getting tired of it, but I'm still hoping.

Good night.

Anxiety Strikes Again!

 Hi, all.

Okay, first of all, I've been retrenched from my job of seven years as a subtitler at a local huge TV station. No, the other one. Right now, I'm about four months into unemployment. Well, everything was good. I kinda relieved about being released from the company, from the job (as I know there are a lot of freelance jobs I can fall back on). I enjoyed doing freelance jobs until lately, I don't know if it's the uncertainty of my future, or because I'm jobless and I have commitments to fulfil. All I know is that my anxiety and depression slowly creeping in, finding their way back into my brain and mess with everything. I think they have made themselves at home now, because for the past month I've been dreading to see new e-mails coming in. Or phone calls. Even text messages make me jump now.

I know it's funny. I've been looking for freelance jobs, because I don't think I can work in an office anymore, given the environment, the ambience, the politics, the meetings, all the live interactions with people in general (plus the traffic congestion I'll have to go through every morning and evening, even night). It's painful. I know I want replies, but I'm too scared to see if there IS any reply. It's getting hard since I can't go out to release all the built-up tension from the anxiety, due to the MCO. I can't even go to the hospital (actually scared to go to) because the COVID-19 cases are on the rise. I don't want to catch anything while trying to ease my mental issues.

This has resulted in me putting off signing things for work, although the work has been done. Signing stuff is always so dreadful. It feels like I'm signing up for a hellish life even though that's not the case. At all. I don't interact with the officer for my SOCSO's EIS. You know, that insurance thing for laid-off workers. I never contacted him to apply for the second relief. I don't care. I still have enough money (hopefully) until I can find a steady freelance job.

I love being a freelancer. The joy of working from home, or from anywhere you want (if travelling is allowed again), the uncertainty, the out-of-work period, the hit-or-miss income. I just don't want to sign anything. Just give me the job, I'll do it. I'll complete it on time, just don't ask me to sign anything. Forget about contract. But it doesn't work that way.

I wonder if there is any job that isn't anxiety-inducing. Is there?

Third month into unemployment, I started to work-out. You know, shed the fat a little, because I was expanding like nobody's business. I like it, the post-workout feel. The sweats dripping from all over your body, how your cheeks turn red from all the workout (quoting Emma Watson). I don't know why I stopped doing it. Not much progress but I like how I look now. I feel lighter, but my heart feels heavier. I hope this is just a hormonal thing.

When things are fine again, I'm planning to take up tap dancing. I've found a studio in KL, but I want to look for a studio nearer to where I live. And finally learn to play the violin or the piano. Maybe this will give me the peace of mind that I need so much. To have control of my life again. I'm 38, for God's sake. I should have control of my life.

You know what I need so much right now?

A hug. Tight and warm.

Good night.

Jaga Diri

Semalam aku tak boleh lelap
Aku teringatkan kau
Laju kau berlari-lari
Dalam ingatan aku.

Kemudian hati aku disentap
Rasa hiba yang mendera

"Why can't you be mine?" 

Dengan air mata, aku memohon
Agar kau selamat sejahtera

Biar pun bukan untuk aku
Tapi aku mahu kau
Sentiasa ada
Biar aku pergi dulu pun tak apa

Lalu dengan air mata
Aku lepaskan kau pergi

Jaga diri
Dan aku akan
Menjaga kau dari sini

Pengakuan

Lalu, aku pun meluahkan

Kepadanya. 

Rasa hatiku, secara kasual

Agar dia tahu.

Aku bersedia menerima caci makinya. 

Tapi, itu tak berlaku sama sekali. 

Dia malah memberikan 

senyuman yang manis, 

malah termanis yang pernah 

aku lihat terukir dari bibirnya

Dan membuatkan aku lebih jatuh cinta. 

Damn.