Thursday, December 31, 2009

i hate weddings

I know.

I know I am unreliable when it comes to the past two years' social engagements. I know I hate weddings and I always turn truant in attending them because, really, what can be more irritating than talking to 'old acquaintances' at a table of ten or twelve with whom socialising can be really, really tiring for anyone, let alone a clinically-depressed and unwell person. I know I hate babies, I know I hate making small talk with anyone except strangers, I know I hate having to answer 'How are you doing now?' and 'What are you doing (with your life) now?' questions.

But this recent hen-party I am planning for one of my very few best friends in the world, has gotten me peeved. I have two last minute not-coming replies, in the very week that the event is happening. Could they have told us any later that they are not coming?

This is the last hen-party I am ever organising, and hopefully the last wedding I will ever attend. Till the very day I die, I don't ever want to witness another sign-your-names / champagne pouring ceremony. Enough is enough.

I really hope I don't start on sarcastic, caustic, quarrelsome remarks when I meet these two girls who are suddenly not appearing for what is their good friend's last ever party as a singleton. I wish I could skip the wedding so I can avoid seeing these 'bridesmaids'. Bridesmaids indeed! What bridesmaid fails in her bridal shower duties?! Unreliable bitches! Unless you have cancer, or some other kind of debilitating excuse which renders you unable to get out of bed, then there simply is no excuse for such behaviour. I certainly hope these same 'bridesmaids' will decide to not attend the wedding itself because I have no idea how angry I will be if I were to see them in person.

Please don't ever, ever, ever invite me to any more weddings. I hate weddings. All my best friends are already married, anyone else is really not important to me. I will say yes to going but I will not ever turn up at your so-called big day. Big day for you maybe, but everyone is getting married, you are nothing special at all.

Take that, unreliable bridesmaids.

slum doctor aspirations

I have always harboured a secret ambition to be a slum doctor, like in Shantaram. The focus is on the word 'slum', or as in Mandarin they call it 'gangster doctor'. Because I have no formal first-aid, medical or pharmaceutical qualifications, I learnt everything the gangster way. I enjoy doing first aid and for some reason had always been 'arrowed' to do the first aid for our camps and expeditions back in JC. As the years passed I find myself somehow putting together first aid kits for all my mission trips. I learn easily about drug names, dosages and uses and can never forget any medicine that I personally have taken before. I guess it is a blessing in disguise that I have so many sicknesses - psychosomatic distresses that have accompanied my most of my life - because this way I have tried many different kinds of drugs.

I had a vision once of myself tending to child's injured leg in a war-torn country. When this vision flooded over me again during my Myanmar trip, my pastor asked me to bring my first aid kit along to the slum we visited, although we didn't get to use it - good thing I guess.

Lately my slum-doctor dream has been materialising in the veterinary field. Because of the animal rescue work we do in my neighbourhood I find myself learning about medications for animals and how to slum-treat the animals in our care because we don't always have the funds for veterinary fees. I seem to be able to retain information that I research on when it comes to veterinary illnesses, symptoms and types of drugs and the animals we help using our slum-vet information have helped us tide over and save many animals from euthanasia because of simple illnesses.

I think of Shantaram and how the protagonist became a slum-doctor by simply working from his first aid kit, until the slum lord who had illegal ties with a hospital started supplying him pilfered drugs to treat the villagers, and a doctor to refer patients to, cutting through all the red-tape and getting them emergency medical attention. I hope I become a slum-doctor someday; for now, I will start and continue with first-aid for animals.

Monday, December 28, 2009

inspiring quotes on need for reading and writing

I saw this quote by Desiderius Erasmus on the wall of the Borders store @ Parkway:
“When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes.”
Recently I haven't been reading or writing as much as a literature-lover should. I report on my cat blog, I write emails, I watch online TV, but I haven't been writing poetry or inspiring prose, nor journalling. Neither have I picked up where I left off on my Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand which really is a good book - fiction and social commentary in one.

The quote describes me, as the only thing I really collect in my life is still books. It is my legacy, my personality in the living room of my home, and I really did use to spend indiscriminately on books to the point where other expenses did not matter as much.

Desiderius Erasmus also said, that the desire to write grows with writing. I haven't been writing, I cannot even locate my notebook, which means I have to start a new one. I do have a new notebook, a Christmas gift, that I ought to use, but it has been a while and I need to pick up the pace which inertia has slowed down considerably. The only time I pick up a pen nowadays is to teach or to write grocery lists. That has to change or else I will lose sight of my love for words.

Inspire me, and I am already inspired.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

limbo

Having exhausted the available HD-quality TV shows I can watch online I am stuck in a limbo of no-TV-to-watch. I don't watch regular TV, in fact my TV set is not working and I will be giving it to my parents to repair and use for themselves. There are other shows available but I don't fancy them, shows like Heroes and Lost.

So now I am stuck online with nothing to watch. I haven't been reading for a while because I am too jittery to sit down and read most of the time, so the only things I can think of doing in my early afternoon lull time is to blog or write or work on my various projects, work or volunteer.

I have to admit I feel a bit lost, having been addicted to online TV for a while now but I guess it is good thing as I can now focus on things that are more productive like my volunteer work.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

that's me today.

Extreme exhaustion: glazing over in the middle of a lesson, mind slippery and unable to grasp simple math, eyes hurting with or without glasses, knuckles hurting from joint pain, hands shaking enough for me to be unable to draw circles nicely as I should.

That's me today.

Friday, December 18, 2009

tv dramas galore

Favourite TV shows:
  • Terminator
  • Gossip Girl
  • The Big Bang Theory
Worst TV show:
  • NCIS
Other shows I watched and liked:
  • Flash Forward
  • Bones
  • How I Met Your Mother
  • One Tree Hill
  • Deep Blue
  • Supernatural (but not this season)
  • Lie To Me
  • Criminal Minds
  • CSI
  • Fringe
  • House

Sunday, December 13, 2009

X_X

Feeling the stress. With social engagements - two upcoming friends' weddings - my volunteer work at Ubi Kuching Project, teaching for my living, and helping my friend work his business plan for 2010. I have medicated and am still feeling fkn stressed. Wrote it down as I do when I have stuff to do, but not helping.

Enjoy doing these things but enjoyment is not giving me strength as it is supposed to. And now I am getting a headache. I want to do these things but I feel wrung.

Am alternating doing these things with supposedly-stress-relieving activities like watching my TV dramas online and listening to my favourite electronica. Not helping except that my ears are ringing from the aural onslaught.

ARGH.

Friday, December 11, 2009

comments NOT useful for someone with depression

  • You need to get out and socialise more often
  • Don't keep thinking that you are depressed
  • Don't rely on medication, you will get addicted
  • Don't be sad
  • Try to keep yourself occupied
  • Why don't you try (insert alternative therapy)?
The best thing to do is to listen and not to give advice. Ask about the problem. But don't give solutions. The depressed person's psychiatrist knows better, and the depressed person has likely already read all that he or she can on the sickness.

It is a sickness not a behaviour problem.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Panic attacks - frequent enough.
Craving for drink is returning.
- I just need to be present -
Cue deep breathing - -
(not working)

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

today's emdr

Today I had a very fruitful session of therapy with my psychiatrist. Normally it is fruitful nonetheless but today there were a lot of issues to deal with, and my doctor did EMDR for me to help me address these issues.

I have been feeling exhausted. That is normal for me, of course. The way the exhaustion presents itself: after teaching I am so exhausted that I am too exhausted to rest. I have no energy to go downstairs to eat or meet my friends at the pet shop.

My doctor asked me how long have I felt this exhausted. At first I answered, always. He asked, since when. I realise that I have been feeling exhaustion since I was in JC. The only time I recall feeling rested was when we were camping one night on Pulau Seletar around the campfire, after a day of canoeing. Ever since JC time I have been feeling exhausted almost every day, unable to wake up, needing to drink after work almost every night. After ruling out possible physical causes, my doctor asked me, "Are you still depressed?" I didn't answer yes or no. But it seems that the answer eventually surfaced to us as a yes.

I still feel depressed sometimes, I cope by blinding myself to sad things and staying at home as much as possible to shield myself from stressors. Reading the news makes me sad, so I don't. I am an empath at heart, political for the causes of the innocent; when I read about, say, a flood uprooting people from their homes, I actually feel like I am living the experience of these very people. I break down and cry.

And so the good doc told me how to look at this positively. Political advocacy is a good thing. I stopped feeling sad about being sad when I learn of incidences of injustice. I guess this feeling will always be with me and I cannot hide myself from the news for long.

As for my exhaustion, while I may not be able to prevent it from happening for now, we found a way to deal with it. I decided that when I am exhausted I can still fulfill my social obligations. I can just be there, not having to do much. And that is how I will cope for now.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

recent hobbies

I have been watching a lot of TV online at Funshion.com. I have downgraded from books to TV. I did resurrect my book of Emily Dickinson's poems, provoked by a literature lesson I was giving. I have also been playing a lot of Sudoku.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

planning

Charity work is a luxury. We often see how rich upper-crust folks involve themselves in charity and nothing much else. It takes time off from living-earning. But yet it is my passion to be involved in causes of those in severe need.

I need to learn how to divide and plan my time to be able to accommodate my personal life, my charity work and my teaching-for-a-living. I haven't had much structure in my life for a while now so this will be re-learning for me.

I have always thought myself as somewhat super-human, able to do challenging things variously, and successfully. In recent years I realise that I cannot take on tasks with that mind-set because I will break down if I don't ask for help.

Hence, slow and steady, with planning.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

I need to find a way to make more money. The problem is that I have very little energy as I am yet fully recovered. The only thing I can think of is a home-based business. I am already teaching from home two days a week, at my students' place another two days a week. There needs to be more I can do with whatever little energy I have left.

If my friend who owns the pet shop in my neighbourhood can firm up his new investor, I might get a chance to work there part-time. Apart from helping him with his shop's online presence, I can help out on the retail front as well as implement a proper marketing strategy. But that is a very contingent plan.

The only thing I can think of else-wise is to set up a freelance online business. In this current economic climate the only products people will buy is anything that saves them money.

Speaking of money, I am thinking of reviving gift-giving at Christmas. I haven't done so in years because I find it to be a tedious and somewhat trite affair. But it is meaningful and I want to bless the people who have blessed me. But that means money. Back to the problem mentioned above.

Hrngghh.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

birthday trip to bugis junction

Today's loot-table:
Clinique All About Eyes
Clinique Turnaround Concentrate
Clinique Superdefense Moisturiser
Free Gift: Clinique Colour Surge Eye-shadow Palette
Ettusais cleansing soap
Ettusais cleansing oil
Ettusais Pore-Smooth Concealer
Free Gifts: $10 off, tote bag and pouch
The Body Shop Merry Cranberry Fragrance Oil
The Body Shop Tea Tree Oil Scrub
Topshop tees in orange and teal
Treats and canned food for my cats

Monday, November 16, 2009

The innocent.

I just watched an episode of Bones and I wept. In words, I cannot put it in any other way: I wept, like it says in the shortest verse of the Bible.

It was triggered by the episode in the show where a murderer used his dog to kill a man. The dog was a big dog called Ripley, and in the story, Ripley was originally sent to a vet to be put to sleep because his owners 'didn't realise that he would grow so big'. The vet couldn't bear to euthanise the dog so he re-homed him. Unbeknown to him the dog was instead used as a fighting dog in an illegal dog-fighting activity. The vet found out, took videos and pictures of the dog-fight as evidence; the owner saw him, and then ordered Ripley to attack the vet, resulting in the man's death. Eventually, Dr Brennan decided to adopt Ripley after the case was solved - she even made him a dog tag with the name 'Ripley Brennan' on it, but then Agent Booth tells her that Ripley had to be put to sleep because he had killed a man.

But the dog was innocent. He only obeyed his master's command.
On behalf of humankind, universe, I'd like to apologize for what happened to Ripley. He was born a cute little puppy. And then the people who adopted him wanted to kill him because they were too stupid to realize that ... he would grow into a big dog. Ripley was a good dog. He didn't want to fight. But he did it to please his master. He didn't want to attack a human being, but he did it to please his master. You know, it wasn't Ripley's fault that his ... master was cruel and selfish. Like all dogs, Ripley only saw the good in people.
When I saw this episode, I cried. Because it is true. Ripley was innocent. Just like other animals. Just like children forced into becoming soldiers. Just like how natural disaster victims lose their lives and homes without any pre-warning. How can any of these victims be blamed, let alone be punished for misdeeds of which they are innocent?

Sunday, November 15, 2009

birthday gifts

I have been quietly busy putting away a mental list of things I want to buy for my own upcoming thirtieth.

So far I have bought Victoria's Secret, and will be buying Clinique and Ettusais, and a new Ikea chair for my room. I also need to restock my essential oils collection, and I would like to buy something for my cats too.

I think that for the past years I have never used any birthday ang pows for anything gift-like; it was always spent on necessities and bills. I like spending on myself, I actually remember it better. I remember I spent my twenty-fourth birthday having a turkey cranberry sandwich at O'Brien's after work that night. I remember it because I was alone and that was what I bought myself for my own birthday.

This year is the first time I actually itemised what I am going to get myself for my birthday.

The money came from my parents. They also paid off my credit card debt for me and they will be paying off my mortgage arrears this month. I will soon be debt-free. And that is another great gift.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

God's gift

The most amazing thing happened yesterday.

Our friend Jag, an old gaming friend whose kids I was teaching once, called and said he had something for me. We haven't spoken in awhile. He said he had a gift for me and he was bringing it over, last night.

He arrived with a surprise, and a story. Jag and his wife do this together, buying a gift for someone every month. But to know who and what, the both of them pray together for God to show them an item and a person, and then they will go on that instinct.

Jag brought a computer to my house.

I asked him if he knew what had happened to our old computer and our current computer travails, from any one. He said no he hadn't spoken to anyone about me recently regarding computers.

All he knew was that two days ago, God showed them a computer. And this morning, He showed them it was me. They just went ahead and bought one.

After I told him what happened to my old computer, he understood why God told him to do what he did.

J fixed up the computer last night.

And I am back on my own computer at last.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

transient

Life sucks. I have been living the past four days without the joie de vivre that is supposed to energise me. I dread doing the housework. I dread having to do things. I dread going out. I wake with itchy eyes and nose, and water retention. I look in the mirror and see a tall fat girl. I am wearing yesterday's clothing. I feel tense.

Yesterday I tried to join my doctor in doing positive associations through my EMDR therapy. Kind of like how one associates watching movies and eating popcorn, I was supposed to associate my work with positive imagery. It didn't sink very deep. My positive imagery was one of me feeding the stray dogs in Ubi. I am supposed to now associate that image - of me being useful - to my work. That my students need me.

I actually like being with teenagers. I like talking to them. I like spending time with them, seeing their childlike yet grown up demeanour. Enjoying their chatter and the things they ask. I am not only good at this but I also actually like it. I don't like younger children as much, that I know. With younger children I need to act adult. With teenagers I can just be myself, my personality is good enough, and I don't need to alter it to fit in with them.

But this doesn't erase my feeling of dread when I wake up, dust in my eyes and nose feeling dry and inflamed.I don't know why I still feel tense; today is the fourth day of feeling this. Do I really need another 'holiday' from life? I don't think so. Am I not resting enough? I don't know.

Maybe this ties in with me not having my computer. I feel most at home when I have a computer to write and read from. I guess that is when I am at rest. Which means I haven't been resting much since my computer died. I just simply don't feel at home using J-Lap, on Google Chrome instead of Firefox (not that it is not good to use), without my usual bookmarks, shortcuts and folders. My life feels transient without my own computer, like I cannot create anything because I don't have my own hard drive to store my own data. I guess in the way we need a brick and mortar presence to call our home, we now also need a cybernetic home we call our personal computer, to give us the sense of security, a very base need of humans.

To me, sitting at a screen is like the male-Martian act of going into his cave. In that way, I am a caveman. I need to recuperate after every hunt, and each book I dive into, each time I sit at my own computer, it is as if I put the blinders on the life around me and enter into my own. And rest.

That is a lot of conjecture. And it doesn't erase this tight feeling I have in my fingers and my chest. I think I simply need to medicate to think straight for now, and then deal with the rest of my day a step at a time. It's gonna be a long day.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

suddenly

For some reason the impending storm that was coming in real life did not positively-ionise my feelings, instead, I have plunged into an incoming panic attack, subverted by the last two X*anaxes in my medicine drawer.

I don't know what brought it about. I was suddenly on edge and then I felt it coming. Like the storm was.

Then it happened. Before I could lose my ability to speak as I often do when I get a panic attack, I medicated. And try to relax, as if! Like wishing a brain tumour away I suppose.

Then the dilemma came. I had to go teach. I couldn't. Not today. Not this afternoon. Not in the rain. Not when my chest was hurting and I felt miserable. And on the verge of losing my voice and consciousness.

I am not sure if it is because I forgot to take my antidepressants for the past I-don't-know-how-many days. I felt fine actually. Though I did tear up when I was watching the scene in Gossip Girl last night when Lily and Rufus re-united with their son in Chinatown after two decades of not knowing where he was.

Back to right now, I still feel sick; my chest is constricted, my hands are tingling. I am finding it hard to speak. I took a Remeron, which in Plum Sykes' book Debutante Divorcees one of the characters raves on about as the world's strongest antidepressant - one lick and it sends you to twelve-hours of sleep. It doesn't work that way for me. But I am running out of pills.

Which came back to my dilemma. I needed to go teach because I had to collect my fees today. Because I have to go for my medical appointment on Wednesday, and I needed the money to pay for it. I sent J to go get it for me instead, as this student lives near his workplace. I think he didn't want to. But I couldn't postpone anything - my upcoming medical appointment because I need the meds, my lessons today to tomorrow, because tomorrow I am already fully booked with other students.

Maybe all this busy teaching is finally taking its toll on me again. I don't know.

I don't know what brought this on. All I know is that right now I don't feel like talking and I feel extremely weak. I feel terrible. I just want to fall asleep again, peacefully this time, and try to make this all go away. I feel helpless otherwise.

computer graveyard

I decided to concede and use J's computer today. I was going mad with being computer-less, what with now not one but two internet connections running through my house.

We recently acquired ourselves an M1 broadband subscription, getting the free laptop and printer-scanner in the deal. Our Starhub connection is ending next week. Hence the current two-internet-connections scenario.

Meanwhile, the new laptop is taking ages to arrive.

My computer table is now like a graveyard, with wires strewn all over, hardware and accessories without a proper home.

J's laptop is fine for simple things like emailing and text based surfing, but is really slow when it comes to photos and flash related programmes. I seriously wondered how he used to play WoW on this laptop. He probably lagged like crazy.

And the keyboard is really grimy looking. I feel itchy using it. I think it is a male thing, to have dirty keyboards.

That and the fact that there are all sorts of error pop-up messages everytime the computer starts. And that there is no Firefox on it. I don't know how to use the internet without Firefox.

Hence this blog post has no hyperlinks et cetera. It is too much work to do this on J-Lap.

As for what really happened to my old computer: the PSU fried, possibly due to my youngest cat going behind the CPU. That and the fact that it has been working very hard, for long days and nights. The PSU's breaking down also destroyed part of the motherboard and the processor, which unfortunately for me was AMD from when it was still better than Pentium. Not anymore. Hence, we had to decommission the computer. The only workable parts were everything else, which are also quite obsolete. A cooling-fan, anyone?

My data is hopefully saved - my photos, music and documents. The guy at the IT shop in my neighbourhood saved our hard-disks for us, but J dropped them along the way home as the plastic bag broke. I am not sure if the data is still intact. Either way the IT guy said he would use the old hard-disks as a partition on our new computer when we finally get enough money to fund the building of it. In the meantime, it is a no-go financially so we are going to have to try and get by on the current situation. The computer lasted about four years and was a gift from H from the days when we had our home-office in my place. It has had a good life.

While I am going mad waiting for my new laptop and hopefully resurrecting my old data to use alongside it, I relented today as I was going crazy without being able to use a computer to blog or email for the past few days. I did fine initially, turning to reading in bed instead of being perched at my computer desk. But today something snapped as I had too many words in my brain that I needed to get out.

I will not however be using J's laptop to update my cat blog as that blog is picture heavy, something that J-Lap will not be able to sustain. Sending one jpeg file using this computer already takes ages. J-Lap somewhat reminds me of my first Windows 98 laptop. One that I used from 2000 to 2004.

I am not sure how fast the new laptop will be. But it is a mini one, the kind that costs very little and is meant for basic functions. I will have to resurrect my old portable hard-disks to use alongside it to store my entire cache of documents. But the great thing is that I will be able to use it in bed. What other bliss is there apart from typing and surfing the net lying down?

The good thing out of the dying of my computer is that J-Lap now has a new monitor. J hates using his laptop without an external flat-screen monitor. His died a while back. Now, since my desktop has been decommissioned, he took over the monitor upon my advice. Not that it makes any difference, the graphics loading on J-lap is slow enough to make light of the wonders of wide-screen LCD.

Another good thing out of my computer dying is that I could try to detox myself of blogging. I started Twittering instead (is that the word?) as I could do that easily on my handphone and there are no major lag-causing graphics on my Twitter pages that will test my patience. Find me on Twitter @avalon and @ubikuching.

Okay, now with some words out of the way I shall resume my computer-fast. After I wash my hands because my fingers feel a little itchy...

Friday, October 30, 2009

counselling my students

For the past ten years that I have been teaching private tuition to secondary school kids, sometimes I have to learn to counsel them too. About feeling discouraged at school, about their relationship with their parents, about their friendships, about stress and anxiety. I use a mix of my own knowledge of psychology, the words of my psychiatrist, and my own experiences.

Lately because I have branched out into teaching pre-teen kids as well, something which is different, I find that counselling an eleven-year-old is rather different from counselling teenagers. One of my eleven-year-old students felt extremely discouraged over her maths exam, and even emailed me late at night to tell me about how she think she has disappointed me. The next day we were supposed to have a lesson, but I told her let's not have a lesson, instead, if she wants to chat and hang out we can do that. She came over and brought her teddy bear, her favourite comics. After telling me in person about how she left out a lot of questions in the exam, we then drifted to talking about other things, like her comics, her school life, her siblings. I chipped in my share of stories related to the topics she brought up. By the time she left my house to go home for dinner, she was cheered up. Her countenance changed from the sluggish slouch she came with to the chirpy little girl she ought to be.

In contrast, my teenage students when counselled, often involves tearing and silence. From both parties. Tearing because when I say something that aptly rings true to describe how they feel, they tear up. Tearing because when I share my own similar experience, I tear up. Silence when my student agrees with my advice and is processing it.

I don't think I can handle any kids younger than eleven years old. Beyond this age of students I can still be myself. With younger kids I tend to become someone else, to fit a teacherly persona. It is tiring to be someone you are not. Despite my having had taught kids of almost all ages before, I still feel that children are not me, for them I have to be a total act. Being inauthentic is tiring. And for me, tiring means a mental breakdown. I don't mind brief encounters with young kids, but they cannot be a large part of my work or life.

I have been re-thinking again about taking a counselling course. This has been a silent part of my aspirations for many years, but I always rejected the idea because of the cost. That and because I am an avid fan of self-learning over classroom-learning. I don't like the idea of signing up to pay for a course when I can easily learn whatever it is on my own; I have done so for years and it has saved me a lot of money since my interests are so vast. The good thing is that I soak information from all genres up like a sponge. The bad thing is that I am not paper-qualified for anything. The counselling course would definitely be invaluable to my career in future considering that I still want to do mission work or NGO-work when I recover. In the meantime it would help me with my teaching. Either way I can use it immediately and add it to my resume. Regardless, now is not the time. I am taking on more things that I can handle if I add any more to my plate.

So I will continue to use my mix of counselling experience, psychology knowledge, biblical truths, words from my own doctor, to counsel my students when they need it. Bring on the pop-psychology.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

peeved at adaptor

I am extremely furious, I had to take meds to calm down- I was screaming at cats and into the air. My computer's internet connection is broken and I absolutely hate hardware problems, to the core. I am so mad I wish I could just go out and buy another PC, like a $300 laptop or similar. So peeved, so pissed.

Now I have to use J's laptop which is low, the keys grimy, and the whole area surrounding it generally very dusty, which is partially my fault since I haven't really been cleaning up. Till then, sitting here using this laptop is making my nose itch and I have to remind myself to wash my hands after.

urgrh

Every single time lately when I want to write on worldsuponwords all I can think of is how tired I am. I have been slacking off in the housework department because of my teaching and my volunteer work. And every evening after I finish teaching I am always exhausted.

So exhausted am I right now that I am actually exhausted from being exhausted. I have imbibed all the possible sleep-inducing meds I have and have lavender oil diffusing the air in the room. I have sentimental tunes airing on my speakers. The light in the room is dimmed. I am still awake even though I desperately want to sleep.

I think I was - and still am - too tense for the medicines to tranquilise me to sleep. The pills only gave me enough tranquil to be less grumpy from tiredness. I feel placid now. Just not sleepy enough to fall totally asleep. How frustrating is that?

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

is it too much for me?

I am not sure if I am biting off more than I can chew. In recent weeks things have become rather busy, and while I am still somewhat keeping up, more easily than before, it is still tiring. Come next week, I will likely be teaching at least four students if not five. Which is five days a week. Albeit half-days, but I am not sure I can keep up. It is the money I need, with the convenience of having that one new student also coming to my house instead of me having to tire from travel. But as it is I am already tired every day. I am scared of breaking down again like I did in Q3 of this year, when I couldn't get up to make phone calls and got panic attacks every time I had to go and teach. I have to keep telling myself to take things on measuredly and only if I will enjoy doing them; joy gives strength, a lack of it - an obligation - drains that strength away. I am still enjoying it amply, I only hope it will be sustainably so for the future.

My volunteer work - cat rescue and all that - is also becoming more hectic and more issues are arising because of the publicity we're getting from the press and in online forums. With publicity comes scrutiny. With publicity comes help and support, which means accountability. We have all along functioned as a fun group that loves animals and simply have been acting on our compassion. But now it is becoming more and more serious, both a blessing and a curse. Andy and I are often on the same page, but our friend who owns the pet shop from which we do our animal rescue and re-homing work is not only doing it out of his passion, he also needs to consider his business's survivability which is not something we have to struggle with on a daily basis like he does. And my having worked in an NGO setting before I know what financial accountability and transparency to the public is like. Everything from where the money comes from, where it goes and every single work-flow needs to be structured and transparent. It will take time. It will naturally fall on me to do it. My name is also at stake, and ultimately my career too because I want to pursue a life of helping others. Lots to do, and I know how to go about it, my mind naturally just knows how to organise everything so that it will work out, structurally. It will just be a continuous climb that is increasingly becoming an overhang rather than an upward slope.

I only hope I can keep up.

Monday, October 26, 2009

6 a.m. and on edge

I suddenly woke up at six in the morning, from a technicolor dream, and heat, because somehow the air-con got turned off.

Yesterday was gruelling with that many things on my mind, and more. I finally paid my Singtel bills. And my handphone should be reinstated by the time I turn it on today. I shudder at the amount of SMSes I have to clear. I have to make the phone silent first I guess.

And having had to settle all my outstanding Singtel stuff, I postponed my teaching to Wednesday.

A lot of other things happened: I had to counsel one of my students over the phone. I had lots to blog on my cat blog. I went to help my friend at the pet shop. I had to write in to UOB regarding my credit card. I felt exhausted and on-edge, right from the times my house phone kept ringing off the hook, and thereafter, at Parkway when we went to Singtel which knn doesn't do billing, even though the person I spoke to on the phone said I had to go to a Singtel shop to do it.

After coming home J and I redid our finances and now I am agonising how to chip in my share of the family expenses. I need to work more but I don't know how my body will be able to take it, and let alone find the extra comfortable time to do it. I am already stressed as it is. On edge, on edge, on edge.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

sleep, tired, lots to do

Couldn't sleep last night; now extremely tired after waking.

Lots of things on my mind, including why-the-hell has Singtel been charging me subscription fee for a line that was suspended? Also, the crazy but extremely essential internet bill. And even the house telephone bill, since I mainly use the house phone now.

Also on my mind is fund-raising for Ubi Kuching Project's stray cat neutering programmes. Now I am at the stage of doing product-testing and costing to find out what merchandise can be produced viably and the costs and revenue projections.

And later I have to teach.

Eurgh, much to do. Just thinking about these make me want to go back to sleep

Friday, October 23, 2009

and suddenly, awake

Having had yet another exhausting week I popped my meds early last night to get a good and timely sleep. Only to wake up suddenly at five thirty a.m. craving for milk tea and a cigarette. And suddenly, very awake. I can't get back to sleep, and there is nothing that I feel like doing at this time of morning. And nothing much to do either. No e-mails to reply, no blog posts to write, no quick housework to do. I guess I shall have to find something work-related to do to occupy my time till I finally fall back to sleep again.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

feeling better! in more ways than one

I have taken to going to bed right around 6 p.m. these past two evenings. Exhausted from teaching, and before that, exhausted from waking up. It could be because I hadn't been sleeping well.

I haven't been sleeping well because my headaches have been keeping me up, and consequent lack of rest probably made them worse. Also, Panadol Extra contains caffeine. And because I have been eating so much Panadol, I cut back on my anti-depressants, and was in a sullen, lacklustre, dull and tired mood for much of the week. I am now back on them properly, and am full of energy: today I spent much of my daytime helping a friend at his shop, and I apparently was caught in the act singing while I worked. I think that people who sing while they work are generally happier.

I was also very excited after my 6 p.m. 'nap' last night and instigated J to come with me for a walk around the neighbourhood at close to midnight. Then I went to Shop and Save in the middle of the night to buy groceries (hooray for 24-hour shopping) and even suggested us going to Mustafa just now at about 11pm. A little bit too much hyper, but I guess I ought to have had it coming for me since I skipped my meds for a few days; re-uptake inhibitor bull run.

A new challenge has come to me. Well, more than just one new challenge. Firstly, I need more money. My parents are wiping my debt-slate clean for me because they have come into some money. But after the slate is clean I am pretty much going to be on my own. Mine and J's income together don't make a lot, and while his career is progressing, I need to find more freelance work. Otherwise we will still always be skint. And I can never afford that Georg Jansen ring I want to buy for him. Or a new computer. Computers. Right now I would be happy enough to have enough money just to survive, and maybe allow me to re-stock on my skincare. Yes, I have been that skint.

Another challenge would be my volunteer work. Ever since The New Paper coined our cat blog as 'animal rescue group Ubi Kuching Project', (see picture below), we have become a tad more high-profile than just a bunch of animal lovers mucking around. To sustain our work, we need to sustain our resources. This in other words means fund-raising. Which is my forte in a way, and a step towards doing fund-raising and resource allocation for bigger charitable causes which is still my life's dream. I am taking this project in my stride.
But I proceed with caution. I do not want to over-tax myself by being the old over-ambitious-and-keep-to-myself Elaine. Everytime I did that I broke down and couldn't even get out of bed to make or answer a phone call. I already owe so many apologies to so many people I have let down, and though I still will in future, I will try my best to do it right. Remembering always, what my doctor advises, and that is the simple truth that 'the joy of the Lord is my strength.' It is not only a spiritual concept but a medical one; anything that you enjoy you will find strength to do, anything you abhor will tire you out.

To end off, I just want to say that I have come to like pop-psychology magazine O mag, the magazine by Oprah Winfrey. It is such a good read, full of stuff that inspires and yet with pretty things to look at. It is only $14 but it makes you think, a lot. Plus it has lots of good book reviews, excellent for those like me who love to read. My staple magazines are now O mag and Vogue US, which I still insist upon for the art, culture, people and fashion. Much more worthy than local magazines. Enjoy reading.

Monday, October 19, 2009

I have been having the most heinous row of headaches for the past week or so. The strongest Panadols won't cure it, merely keeping it bearable until each dosage wears off.

I am tired of having headaches. Headaches impede my ability to endure social settings and having to teach. I can stare at a computer screen while I am sick, but do little else.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

I hate weekends. It is noisy, and I cannot rest properly. And tomorrow is already Monday, another start to another - in my terms - gruelling week. I need to rest. I need the whole world to shut up.

My own current way of dealing with the news is to turn up my Gareth Emery podcast loud and let the electronica fill up the noise in the whole house and cover it up. So that I can disappear in its un- noise.

I just want to rest.

Friday, October 16, 2009

forums,1337speak, online communities and real life

It has been rather interesting to follow the thread on Hardwarezone forums regarding the dogs that went through the PRC boy's hands. The justice served by the public is way more lethal than that of the any legal system, as I have said before. Also, writing on the EDMW forum has revived the use of my written Singlish and general l33tspeak used in local online communication. Because I am not gaming anymore I haven't typed so much net-speak for a long time now.

Speaking of gaming, I don't think I can return to WoW anymore as Averlorn, because I cannot seem to ever be able to log into my account again. Plus it is becoming an endless cycle of expansion after expansion, I don't think I can keep up. Ever since J and I got busy with our lives we just never got the urge again to play WoW again either. I do miss being called Abba, and my guildies, a lot. In fact I miss a lot of my friends, I am just not really feeling that sociable yet - does it make sense?

I know my social circle right now is still small, be it real life or online, because I am still not ready to face my whole world again. I still hate Facebook and cannot find the energy to log onto MSN; I am also not motivated to reinstate my mobile phone yet. Yes I am still a hermit. It is not easy trying to regain old friends while trying to focus on healthy activities in life as well as solve daily problems. My current plate is rather full and I only hope I can sustain it, else I will break down again like I did in June all the way to August.

Like my doctor says, anything I enjoy doing I will find the energy to do. So you may see me everywhere sometimes, or not at all - I work based on what my natural enjoyment level takes me to do. Now you see me now you don't. I know it makes for frustration be it whether you are a friend or a blog reader. For now, it is working just fine, and hopefully, as it goes along this trajectory, I will be reducing my medication soon, at last.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

it is no longer just about Dane...

Jeff's mother claims that Jeff is psychologically unwell. This could explain why he impersonates a well-educated and financially able man - to be able to adopt a dog, and to then assume another persona to that of a con-man.

Here is what has happened to another dog that went into Jeff's hands:

Zanthe, who also lost a rescued dog - Xena, miniature bull terrier - through Jeff, together with her friends from a dog shelter, spoke to Jeff today. This is what she says:

Xena apparently changed hands not to a buyer who got conned but to Jeff's mother, because he went back to China for a while.

His mother passed Xena to her friend, and this friend left XENA IN THE RAIN OUTSIDE a printing factory for one night. Printing factory next day took her in and then she ran away after a while.

There are still dogs at his place the last time Zanthe went, Leo also told me Jeff told him the last time that there was a golden retriever at his place.

Not only Jeff, but the man (Mr Loh) who is his mom's friend clearly didn't care about the welfare of Xena because HE LEFT HER IN THE RAIN for one night only to be taken in by another kind soul. Jeff and his mother neglected Xena's condition because they didn't bother to check with the friend about Xena's welfare.

Jeff's mother subsequently called Zanthe up again to plead. Saying that Jeff is psychologically unwell and has along had suicidal thoughts. This is supposed to be an explanation of why he goes around acting the way he does - conning people and abusing animals. She is sorry for how she has brought up this son and hopes that we will have mercy on him. I have told Zanthe to tell Jeff's mom if she calls again to bring Jeff to the doctor as he clearly needs help.

Regardless, in order to take action against Jeff, we are going to the police to lodge a formal complaint - there are now at least 2 dogs officially involved - AVA will need a formal police complaint to be made in order for them to be able to take action, and likewise there is legislation to prevent cruelty to animals.

She is still looking for Xena, this is her picture according to their re-homing advert before Jeff took her away.

Monday, October 12, 2009

more updates

We have been getting a lot of requests for answers on this case. Here are some updates.

Here are some pictures of Dane when he was with us.


As for how the alleged same puppy was treated when he was with Mr JH the P R C / ah tiong / FT (depending on which forum u found this link from), it was sad and whining and underweight, could see his ribs. Dane was not a fussy eater, he ate a lot while he was boarding at the shop. So the dog was clearly being underfed.

He has already been bought and collected by his new owner, the FT's 'customer' and is now in good hands - his new owner is caring, knowledgeable about dogs and has a good home. Money is not the issue here and his new owner is willing to pay the financial cost to rescue this dog. Much respect for him, /salute.

It is more about the fraudulent nature of the advertisment. In the FT's ad on 8 8 d b posted a few days after the adoption (since today it has been removed from the site):

He claims he paid $4k for the dog. This is misrepresentation. When the press called the FT to talk, he claimed that Dane chewed on his cables and his mother was upset and made him pay her back for the damages caused by Dane. But this is likely to be untrue as Dane is not his first adopt-then-sell-for-profit case. Surely it cannot be the case that all his previous adopted dogs chewed on cables and needed to be sold to pay back for the wires. Also, dogs chewing on wires means that they lack proper training and toys to sustain their interest - also the fault of the 'owner'.

The FT did indeed paid a price but it was an adoption fee (read right sidebar for reasons why there needs to be an adoption fee). The FT also got a free bag of dog food alongside the adoption. As to how the sum was calculated, I cannot comment as this is my friend's shop the dog was boarding at. Big, pedigree dogs usually require a higher adoption fee than say, local kittens because - they eat more, they need more cleaning up after, they need proper nutrition according to their pedigree, they need more space to run, they need more supervision. And the amount of $4,000 is indeed quite reflective of the price of a licensed and certified pedigree GD dog (in fact all the information on the 8 8 db website - Scooby Doo, pony-size etc. - is what we shared with adopters about this breed of dog).

Angels Pet Shop does NOT sell dogs and cats. We use the shop to foster some of the animals we rescue, and only re-home disadvantaged animals as part of our voluntary work, which costs money. Most of the time adoption fees hardly cover it as some animals need veterinary attention. We do not intentionally go around looking for animals to re-home for a profit; we are usually approached by customers or members of the public, or the animals are found dumped outside the shop when Aswat opens for business in the morning. We do not pick up strays either unless they are found to be sick or very young or are actually abandoned pets.

As to why we allow foreigners to adopt, we do not discriminate; expatriates have adopted from us before and they do not make better or worse owners; it is the individual adopter that makes the difference. We have diplomatically turned adopters away before. This particular FT 'adopter' seemed well-off, eager, educated, and had the financial means to take care of a large dog. Normally keen adopters call many times regarding the animal; so did this FT. We also have a log book of all the particulars of the adopters, as well as encourage family members to come along to view the animals before adopting. So, on our part, I believe we have exercised due caution, which will be further improved in future when we implement a black and white contract as well as bouncer-type volunteers to help us do inspections on adopters, perhaps. We are still discussing this, and because animal rescue and re-homing is not actually any of our day-jobs we have to do this during our non-working hours.

As for how this Mr JH looks like, works, where and how to find him, I do not know entirely except these: he is in cahoots with his girlfriend E von (whose number is the one posted in the 8 8 db ad), we cannot ascertain where he lives because he has previously given fake addresses to other rescuers. He is dressed in a very wayang fashion as most P R C people who try to act atas are, has red-highlighted hair and wears brown contact lenses. He speaks with a honkee accent and claims to work and study in Singapore as well as worked overseas in Germany before. We do not know if all this information he shared about himself is true and valid; it is said that the devil is the father of lies, so, /shrug.

This story has attracted a lot of ah tiong haters as well as animal lovers. To the tiong-hatesters: I understand where you are coming from and in fact, I totally agree with what some of you have said that some are good, but most are not. I have a few tiong neighbours, only one of them is terrible: their kids poured soya bean milk on the stray kittens outside (Snowy, Nosey and their sister) as well as on our neighbour's door. For the animal lovers, please learn a lesson from this case and do a written contract when you re-home a rescued animal, as well as spot-checks on the new homes, and trawl online classifieds to see if any of your beloveds are being re-sold fraudulently. We only knew about this ad because one of Angels customers told Aswat about it and then Andy and I checked it out.

And for those of you who feel that I ought to keep this under wraps - as lawyers do about ongoing trial cases - I understand where you are coming from, JH could be reading any of these stories about him right now. Yes, we are not law enforcers nor investigative journalists so we may not actually be totally diplomatic, politically excellent or give the alleged con-man the benefit of being innocent until proven guilty. Yet at the same time, had I not written and publicised this story a la viral marketing style, more would be kept in the dark about this, other people who cannot financially afford to be conned might be cheated by this scammer, and ultimately the animals suffer too. I reserve my right to be a citizen journalist.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Dane's story on STOMP


STOMPer Elaine is appalled to find a puppy that they rescued from an Ubi factory being put up for sale at $2,000 by a PRC man who adopted it from them. This is apparently not the first time that the man is selling rescued dogs for exorbitant profits, says the STOMPer.

In the online classifieds ad, the man claims that he paid "almost $4,000" for the 2-month-old Great Dane puppy, and is willing to sell it for half the price "due to family matters". The STOMPer said the man only paid $350 in adoption fees to cover the puppy's food and boarding, and to deter adopters from abandoning it again.

In the STOMPer's email dated Oct 12:

"We recently rescued some puppies from potential culling at an Ubi factory, and after fostering them to proper health put them up for adoption.

"This person who adopted one of the dogs brought him home and subsequently posted this dog for sale online at a profit.

"After much trawling online I found out that this is not the first case of this same PRC male adopting rescued dogs and putting them up for exorbitant profits.

"We will likely be making a police report against this person once we confirm the dog is the same dog we re-homed."

In an online update dated Oct 10, the STOMPer reported that a man has paid a deposit of $200 to the PRC man and brought the dog home. The buyer later found out about the scam online and will be bring the puppy to the STOMPer for identification.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

pet profiteers and misrepresentation on adverts

This story also at Ubi Kuching Project.

Recently, we rescued 2 factory puppies from my neighbourhood and after taking care of them, we went about finding new loving homes for the pups. The little girl pup was adopted by a family with a big house, and had already bought bags of food for her even before their dad went to drive and pick her up to bring her home to the family.

The boy pup was adopted by a guy who's from PRC (working/studying in sg). He was so eager to adopt him that he waited for our friend outside his shop where the dogs were boarding, so that he could view and bring the puppy home.

We were so glad for both pups that they found new homes and were saved from potential removal or culling by the authorities. Our friend Aswat at Angels Pet Shop even gave the boy-pup's adopter a pack of free dog food - same brand as he was eating (Acana), as well as subsidised his transport fee for bringing Dane home.

But something horrible happened. We found on 88db.com that the same boy-pup, Dane, was being posted for SALE. This was not our intention - we do adoption and rescue work to find homes for the animals, not for profit.

Not only was the adopter not genuine, he even claims he paid $4k for the dog. This is NOT TRUE. He paid an adoption fee of $350. NB: We ask this of adopters for a few reasons: (1) to cover the animals boarding, food and potential medical costs while we foster them, (2) to prevent adopters from abandoning the animals again - this has happened before (3) to generate some income for our animal rescue and re-homing work. Usually the adopted animals' fees do not cover the food and boarding costs much, as we feed and care for them well, but we are doing this not for profit but for the welfare of these disadvantaged animals so the costs whether covered or not is not an issue to us.

We do record adopters' particulars when they adopt an animal from us. We also exercise our due diligence on advising owners on the care, licensing, sterilisation (if animals are young) of the animal. We made a follow up call to Dane the boy pup's owner yesterday to check if Dane was doing ok. He said yes, the dog is doing fine. We also asked if we could visit. He declined all available days and times we offered claiming he was busy. On the 88db add, he claimed that he cannot care for the dog due to family matters. This is also obviously already A LIE, as he claimed the dog was doing well at his home.

Although the number he left on our adopter's log book was different from the one posted on the add, I recognised his voice immediately when I made a mystery shopper's call this morning after the call yesterday to check on the dog. I made the mystery shopper's call using another number, and with a different voice (my morning hoarse and sad sounding voice), asking about the dog for sale. He said that there was somebody already interested in the dog but hasn't 'registered' yet (WTF does that mean? anyway) so the pup was still available. He asked me to tell him more about myself; I said I was interested in getting a dog because my dog just died. (Actually, my dog died about 10 years ago). I told him I will call back.

It is the SAME GUY. He spoke with the same funny PRC accent and had the same voice.

WTF? I am so cheesed off. Dane the pup looked so sad in the 88db pics, but he is so happy in our ubikuchingproject pics.

Addendum: A reader just emailed me saying that a PRC by the name of Jeff adopted a rescued miniature bull terrier called Xena from another pet shop which she fostered her at, from then on he disappeared as the particulars which he gave the pet shop was fake. This guy is a serial pet profiteer.

Related links: Hardwarezone here and here; Vr-zone here; Petschannel.com here

Edit: There had already been one interested party who contacted the PRC guy for the puppy. This guy paid a deposit of $200 and had already collected Dane home. He then found out about this scam online, and called our friend Aswat who fostered and did the re-homing for Dane. He will be bringing the puppy over for us to view to see if it is indeed Dane and if so, he is going to report to the police.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

spent on still waters

I have been sleeping, a lot. Days and nights. Exhausted from having to teach, and even though I did only very little housework. I am really tired. I don't know how long I can keep up having things to do every day. It is normality but it is not mine. I remember that a half year ago or so whenever I taught for half a day I needed to rest for two days. Now I think I am better than that but I still feel spent.

Right now I am nursing a cup of Earl Grey tea hoping to awake soon. Despite having slept eleven hours I am still very tired. I think about having to go teach later and I feel already a little sluggish. I also feel mentally spent thinking about all my financial debts which I cannot pay all of even with some income right now.

I remember feeling free and happy in a dream I had two nights ago: I was playing with puppies and kittens and feeling really happy because they were all really happy. The main stars in the dream were the rescued pups and kitten - Dane, Diana and Kendra - at our neighbourhood pet shop. I am glad I have my own cats and the fostered pets to give me some joy in my life.

My Earl Grey tea cup is dry, I think it is time for a coffee. And then to call my students to check if our lessons today are confirmed. And then to try to think less and just do things step by step. Like trying to walk on water - thinking doesn't help too much - but then again, you never know when the still waters turn into a squall.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

ketsana

I haven't been reading the news, or my online RSS feeds. But I do check my email.

I didn't know about this disaster that happened in Asia.

I don't have money right now, but I will give when I have some.

If you can, please help out.

Monday, September 28, 2009

blogging, photos, fats, being sick and being well

I haven't been feeling really blogosphere-like lately. I have however resurrected my Flickr account to post more photos easily.

As for pictures of myself, I haven't been in the mood, because I am now hugely fat - even my feet are fat, and I think I have new stretch marks forming somewhere. It is due to my Remeron, not because I have been gorging myself like crazy. I have recently reduced my Remeron dosage but it seems to have little effect. But anyway, like I have said before, better to be fat and happy than to be thin and sad.

The past few days I have been down with some kind of flu, which I got from my students. It was hard, because there was no more flu meds in the house so by the time I took any I was already rather ill. I took the downtime to just sit at the computer and help my friend out with his shop's blog, but even sitting at the computer gave me body aches. I had no energy for much else. J did the housework this weekend. I still feel ill.

I think when I recover from this flu I want to resume a more regular exercise routine - right now I feel too painful to do much. For the past year I haven't been rolling out my exercise mat at all because I always felt lethargic. But strangely, I feel better lately. I am able to do more than what I used to be able to - housework and teaching, plus extras. I enjoyed seeing my doctor's face light up when he saw me last, because I seem and feel so much better. It is really a lot due to the EMDR therapy. Invisibly but pertinently it is also God's intervention.

My next hurdle would be to conquer my horrific fear of crowds. I still haven't plucked up my courage to go to church again because it is so very crowded - even the lifts have a queue outside it. I know that the day I step into our church again would be an answer to J's prayer. Slowly but surely. Right now, just thinking of it makes me freeze up in panic.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Vietnam finally went 'home' to his construction site. I feel less stressed. I really missed my cats. If we can still find him an owner, or if Vietnam returns to us again, we will still foster him. A little part of me feels missing now, but I guess I will get used to it.

:(



Vietnam feels like God's gift to me; dog, a man's best friend.

Yet I feel stressed out, busying myself trying to find him a new home. Making sure my cats are okay even though they hate Vietnam.

Over the weekend I felt helpless about him, wishing we could give him a good home. Staring into his lonely eyes I felt lonely too, on his behalf. His eyes were teary when he first came. Mine were teary too. Sometimes Vietnam lies down on the floor and sighs. I wonder what he sighs about.

Yet he refuses to leave us to go back to his old 'home'. He is through and through a man's best friend, not wanting to be without loving companionship.

I am trying all means and ways on the net to try and re-home him. I need your help too. Please spread the word. When he finally finds a good home, I can then heave a sigh of relief. Until then, I am too stressed out to do anything else.

Find one, save one.

Like my father said once before about our previous dog, "Kao mm si lang ah?" (loosely translated to "Dog is also human" from Hokkien).

Monday, September 21, 2009

screw networking

I hate Facebook and only use it as one of my internet means to rehome rescued animals like Vietnam. (I hope someone calls about him soon; he is now almost everywhere on the internet.) Facebook is bloody irritating, so many pictures of people whom you may or may not care about. Too many things going on. I get disoriented. I just want to live my own quiet life, it makes me happier.

Which is why I am reluctant to reinstate my handphone. I hate SMSes and every beep the phone makes gives me stress. Eventually I will have to reinstate it; I fear the beeping it will make once it is reactivated.

To find me, just call me at home, or email me.

I don't want to open my letterbox because it is too full for me to sift through every bill that I probably cannot pay at this point.

In case you worry I might become a hermit once and for all, I am going to log on MSN.

And I do meet people, just a small select group of students, neighbours and loved ones. And my doctor once in a couple of weeks. That is enough for now.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

animal Weltschmerz

Weltschmerz - it is starting to me again. I cannot help feeling sad over this particular dog.

Vietnam is one of originally many stray dogs in the construction site near the field opposite my house. We feed him on weekends when there is nobody there, and when we went yesterday, we found that all his family members and friends were gone, leaving only him. He was much skinnier than before, and had started to develop skin problems. J brought him back to our house for a bath and flea treatment.

I feel sad because we cannot keep him. Owning a dog properly means being able to afford his medical bills. Having him in the house is stressing out the cats, but that problem is solvable, given time. But Vietnam will definitely need to see a doctor if we want to keep him and give him a good life off the streets. If we put him back where we found him, he is at risk of being caught and put to sleep or abandoned somewhere even more desolate.

I am at a loss, and am disoriented too. I stare at him, looking at how tame and obedient he is - he has not pooed or peed in the house - and know in my heart he will make a good pet dog. I think he knows too, that we cannot keep him. He is extremely lonely, especially since his playmates from the site have all disappeared. He clings to J a lot. We bought medicine for his skin problem, and more food for him too.

The feeling I have about Vietnam's situation is how I feel when I cannot control my sadness and sympathy for lives that are hurt and lost around the world. In a way, having Vietnam in our lives makes me sad because I cannot help him much. I really wish I can do more for him.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

stressors

Sleeping till late morning or noon.

Zombiefied.

The house is out of coffee. I am drinking Darjeeling milk tea.

I am teaching later today, at my place; my new student lives near me. She is a delightful kid. I don't think my condition will worsen until I can't even teach at home someday. All I need to do is some housekeeping and get changed before I teach. I don't have to travel for this one.

The main stress factors that broke me down about teaching was getting out of the house, and having to be a totally different - normal - person, teacher for the student, and having to teach weekends, which are a lot more stressful for me. Weekends meant trying to overcome my fear to go to church, spending time with J. Having to teach weekends meant leaving him to go out. Alone. I can't do alone so often. There seems to be too many things going on during weekends. I can't handle having to teach on weekends at all.

I have to travel for the other student, my old student who took a break from tuition the same time I did - for the whole of the third school term. The major stress factors I felt while teaching for the early half of this year are gone in this gig. I don't have to put on a different teacherly persona. She knows that I am sick. We hang out together sometimes. She confides in me a lot. We have a real connection. And I go to her house on weekdays exclusively now, not weekends.

My handphone is still out of commission. It has caused some inconveniences but I am still reluctant to find the money to pay my bill and reinstate it. The important people - J, my parents, my students, my neighbours - know my house number.

Right now I am just going to relax with my cat Sayang on my lap. Until about later this afternoon, when I have to shower myself and clean up the house for my lesson.

Meanwhile, I will just try to let the cat's purring calm me while I stroke her soft fur, with jazz on the speakers, and maybe more tea. It is about to rain - the negative ions are charging in the air. I should be okay today.

Monday, September 14, 2009

home

I don't think I will ever be fully rehabilitated. I still feel tired and listless easily, and despite a reduction in overall anxiety I still find some tasks a challenge.

I have started teaching again, slowly. It's a blessing and a curse. But I reckon it is God's way of providing.

I think about how I have sometimes wanted to be a stay-at-home wife and in many ways, that is what I am now. I enjoy staying at home, doing housework, resting in between, communing with my cats, buying groceries. I still want to do that for a while more, it is adequately energising, and tiring, and I don't think I can do much more right now.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

atlas shrugged

Recently the book Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand keeps showing up in the TV shows I have been watching, Mad Men and One Tree Hill. I just started reading it myself.

I had lost interest in reading for a while, but this book picked it up again for me. I don't know why I didn't want to read much lately, I just stopped. Like a machine that had become inoperable for a while.

I am relieved to have found this book to read, it is a good read so far.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

loop

I can't sleep.
Pain is magnified;
a headache -
- my body feels numb
paralysed.

I see pictures
Making patterns
illogical shapes -
- I snap out of it
but for how long?

I need a fix.
A silent night
awake -
feels like hell.
I need to sleep.

The reservoir
is running dry on hope;
Death is best prescribed
not awaited,
not knowing when

Knowing, not
knowing -
circular loops
in my brain -
go round and round.

Despair -
is life without medication.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

ever again

I don't know how I am ever going to work again. Just yesterday I felt ill enough to have to sleep the whole day. I haven't been able to bring myself to do much housework this past fortnight. With any small reduction in medication I feel unwell, unable to sleep, with a lack of energy in the day. Small things take up big energy.

I went to the CDC for their assessment interview; if they will offer me financial assistance. I nearly had a panic attack, and I finished the last of all my anxiety medication on that very day. They may help me, they may not. I still have to wait a month to find out.

I have to just keep focusing on the things I can actually do. Over the past week I helped out a friend at his shop near our house for half a day, and there are other types of work available near my home if I am able - the fact that I need not have to travel far already eliminates most of the stress I feel when I have to go places. I am less likely to get a panic attack if I need not step outside my house, or if I am only going downstairs. But I still don't think I am up to it, looking at the amount of rest I need with anything I do.

This recovery is taking forever. It feels like a road trip from Europe to India: long, drawn-out, full of terrain.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

PA

I have decided to apply for Southeast CDC PA scheme for financial assistance. They are scheduling me for an interview soon. I hope I don't get a panic attack when I go.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

chaos

The past few days have been chaos.

I haven't been able to sleep for the past two nights, finding myself awake; I spend the nights reading and playing DS.

I then wake up in the middle of the day, to find the house in a mess, and my cats hungry and thirsty. But because I haven't slept well I cannot find any energy to clean up much after feeding the cats.

My phone has been disconnected, I can't make calls or send texts. Breaking a million promises to call and be contactable.

I am still unable to do anything work-related. I get terribly stressed when I know I have students who need me, when I need to work because I have no money. But the stress, even just thinking about it, is overwhelming to the point I cannot do anything remotely work-related.

It is coming to a point I am starting to feel desperation. What am I going to do? I am stuck.

I am supposed to restart my EMDR therapy once a fortnight again, so I can get over this.

But I wake up thinking my appointment was yesterday, and find out actually it is next week. How could I not be able to count a fortnight worth of waiting?

I am filled with trepidation just thinking of the problems I have to solve.

It is terrible to be sick amongst people who are broke.

Wit's end. I sometimes wish an aeroplane from the nearby military air-strip would accidentally fly into my building and kill us all. Far better than the feeling of death I face every time I get a panic attack, thinking my heart is going to stop. Far better than having to solve problems so I can get well, so that I can get well and solve problems. Round and round, the opposite of swift.

I can't do this anymore. Resilience can only take me this far.

Monday, July 27, 2009

safety

I am not sure what to write anymore. I am unexcitable, if I may take the liberty to make a new word for the state that I am.

I have imprisoned myself at home so that I will feel safe, and like all institutionalised members - of prisons, asylums - I do not want to be free, the idea of the vast spaces of freedom scares me. I would rather stay in and do familiar things, even then, only things that I can muster strength to do, and then in pleasure, only extreme things like gorging on chocolates or ice-cream. Otherwise I find things to clean in the house that I can bear to.

I don't feel like painting, writing, or playing music.

What I would like, is to buy some fresh flowers and candles to put in the house, to further encase the comfort of my home which I will barely even leave. But I have no spare cash at the moment for such unnecessities. To solve the problem I browse the Ikea catalogue.

There is nothing else I can do to solve the problem. I am far from able to work even though I try and I want to rehabilitate myself. I think of what a weakling others must brand me, for not working, and I cannot seem to rationalise to myself that I ought to take it slow. My actions prove indeed that I am slow, but I feel unease about the fact that I am not moving along faster than I am now.

When will I be free? I am not sure, but I am not sure either that I want to be free. Prison sentence, or simply a furlough, either way it is safety, and I want to cherish it.

Now, perhaps a spot of chamomile tea, and an enjoyment of post-rain coolness tonight.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

disabled

I feel extremely disabled. My state of health hampers what I am able, or unable, to do. And the 'unable' list is long.

Instead of thinking of what I like to do, I think of what I am able to do.

Like, I teach because I used to be able to do it. I don't like it. I was just able to do it, except that for the last few weeks, I have been unable to do so because my mental health fails me, terribly.

Instead, I became able to do household chores.

Now I am also not very able to do housework, the degrading skin on my fingers makes me think twice about doing any kind of washing with detergents, and I no longer feel like doing much housework.

I have been enjoying writing again. Nothing profitable, just here, and my cat blog, which has been helping homeless animals find a new home, and bringing some business to our neighbourhood pet shop which rescues and fosters these animals.

But if I think of expanding my work opportunities from freelance teaching to include freelance writing, I fear I might let people down again, like I have my students and their parents in the past few weeks.

So the only option I can think of is to do things that I like, and not try to make them into work. Because pleasure and enjoyment is part of the cure, and is the present part that I need to work on.

I will give it a try.

Sounds easy, to just do what I like, but actually, it really isn't that easy.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Dear Elaine

You have been ill for a very long time. You need to stay strong to fulfill your recovery.

Take things slowly and easily. You make your fears into phobias if you push too hard; these unpleasant panic attacks etch themselves with their triggers into your memory, and in future what were once only fears will become phobias that hinder you.

Be spontaneous. That is what your doctor told you. If you feel like doing something, do it. You need to rediscover the pleasure of small spontaneities so that these become part of your positive experience memory bank.

Write to me.

Yours truly.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

triggers

I am trying desperately to find a way to counter and neutralise my stress about working. (Even though I am not working very much lately, if ever in these past two years.)

My doc advises that I need to take things slowly. I need to focus on things that I enjoy and not pressure myself over things that induce my panic attacks. If thinking about and preparing to go out for my teaching assignments stress me out, then I need to find out what is it that stresses me. Do I not enjoy teaching?

I don't really enjoy teaching per se. I enjoy art, I also enjoy being with teenagers. I am somehow good at teaching, my students enjoy it, and it is an accessible form of work for me, that is why I do it.

I tried to think again about what stresses me about teaching, and all I could come with was that I didn't know. All I could think of was that when teaching some of my students, it means that I have to put on a whole other persona, the educator's persona, which needs to be strictly donned especially when with younger kids.

When I was asked recently, "What makes you get up in the morning?" I could only think of the answer, "To feed my cats." It is not that I would enjoy working in the animal or pet industry, it is that I am motivated by need. I enjoy feeding my cats, preparing their food, cleaning up after them, because these are simple tasks. These tasks help my inertia going, escalating me into tasks like cleaning the house, doing the laundry. These things were hard for me before, until recently.

Everything revolves about my being at home - I feel safest and most functional when I am at home.

Maybe I am simply not ready to do complex, people-oriented work. Maybe I should do isolationist type of work, like writing. I update my cat blog everyday, and I enjoy it. I enjoy writing, and I have a crazy retention rate of what I read, to the point where I can write about anything that I learn with just a short frame of information absorption. Writing does not make me ecstatic, as I am unable to feel ecstacy, but I do recognise that what I feel when I write is probably enjoyment.

Either way, I feel terrible, about letting my students down, and their parents. About letting so many people down because I am unable. I don't know how I can get my income, I don't know when I can be fully rehabilitated to the point I am functional and able to work.

Even right now, my brain feels fuzzy. Things that were usually easy and fun for me because they were complex, are now, just too complex. My heart races when I try to think straight. My logical processes are minimal when I am in a state of panic, which is often.

The things that I want to do, that would fulfill me, working in missions or in an NGO, I will not be able to do still, for some time. It will take a long time. My intelligence is in cold storage.

I am at a loss. As to finding my work stress triggers and countering them. As to finding alternative means of function apart from playing house. As to finding alternative means of work if teaching is too stressful.

Teaching used to destress me, especially when I was tutoring as a sideline; spending time with my beloved students helped me forget the real world.

But not anymore. I panic in anticipation of my teaching days, the scheduled hours, to the point I am incapacitated in panic, to the point I cannot speak nor respond nor move, to the point where I break down and cry.

Am I well? No. I try to celebrate small successes, like being able to care for my cats, like being able to do household chores again, by being able to take the bus (with J) sometimes, by being able to tolerate crowds better now even if not completely. But small successes are nothing when I am financially unsafe, when I am unable to provide for myself, when I am constantly letting people down, when I am still having breakdowns and panic attacks.

I have come far in my recovery, even if slowly. But my livelihood is hanging by a thread, my brain is in shreds and I cannot function as well as I could, my body is in an aberrant state of betrayal against my will to be normal.

What is the next step from here? Buy flowers and clean the house? Find some other, easier forms of work? The former option needs money, the latter is too complex for me to figure out on my own. It is 6 o' clock: time for the cats' dinners.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

waiting

Like a cat's cradle string
pulling frown lines
reversing my idyll
sinking my cheeks
My facial muscles tire
from wearing a frown
but nothing erases it.
I am waiting
paralysed:
patience is not my virtue
I am petrified.
Invisible jowls
sink to my ribcage
asphyxiating my heart,
Silence is a commercial break
that never ends.
I hate waiting
and knock-knock jokes
They suffocate me.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

enjoy beauty...

Some people say that life is meaningless without beauty. I try to think of creating beauty in words, in art, and I find myself uninspired to do so. I have lost interest. These days I can only do small functional things, like writing about my cats. I am not inspired to beauty, and pleasure derived from it is elusive to me.

In my afternoons there are gaps of time which are deafeningly silent; I fill these by watching TV on my computer. Sometimes I clean the house, but like yesterday, today hasn't been a cleaning day for me. I am supposed to be spontaneous about the things I do, the things I feel, so that I can enjoy life. Spontaneous is easy, enjoyment is a challenge. I am supposed to take things easy. Right.

Filling my life with beauty and enjoyable, small things: right now, I think I would like a red-bean potong ice-cream. Perhaps that.

And then? Nothing. I will just eat the ice cream and allow myself to feel whatever little I am able to feel.

Monday, July 6, 2009

in all fatness.,..

I always say, that it is better to be fat and happy than to be thin and sad. I am positively round, I hardly recognise myself in the mirror. Now all I need are big glasses, because my face is finally big enough to wear them. I should get myself one of those oldskool plastic frames, like this:














I could probably get them in my neighbourhood spectacle shop, the kind that sells mostly reading glasses for old folks.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Happy Birthday J

Thanks for a great year, here's the rest of our lives <3

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

alert beyond response

I am severely sick, have been having attacks of panic throughout most of the days past recently. I am sick, I feel sick.

I want to just stay home and do household chores and chill out with the cats. My cats comfort me, just as cooking or cleaning lately calms me too. Home is solace, solitude is peace.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Feeling stressed, in a panic over nothing. An eruption of palpitations pulse from my chest, my breathing is laboured.

As antidotes I dole myself medication to tide over the arrest, I also create an assault on my senses through calming music, rose and lavender oils burning, a comfy sleeping gown, flowers, juices and teas. Prescribing pleasure is not fun when it is in alleviation of pain.

The thought of challenging scenarios sets me off: that's my trigger: anything from teaching to social situations. I prefer household work more to these, and I find myself occupationally more able to do them recently. Sewing calms me, even folding the laundry and doing the dishes, things which I have not been able to bring myself to do for a long time. But these activities don't bring me any income.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

-

Recently I have been rising early, not because of health reasons per se. It is more because a boredom I feel the nights before makes me medicate early to sleep, and I wake early because the cats are most awake at dawn, moving around the room, or knocking on the door, or purring on our chests.

This morning I woke up again early. After feeding the cats, taking my meds, having my coffee and smokes, I just felt despondent. The prospect of having work to do today scares me. Recently the prospect of going anywhere out of home to do anything social scares me more than usual. I can go to Parkway to shop with J, but that is the most comfortable ordeal I can take.

In fact I feel anhedonic in general. I have lost interest in reading. It takes extreme flavours to give me an appetite to eat. I drink lots of juice. I try to make my home into a spa haven with aromatherapy oils. I try to allow myself to just feel and sense, and not think. But all I sense is weariness and despondency, and very little pleasure.

If I try to free-flow what I feel, the bunds that keep my sadness at bay overflow, and I feel reminiscent sadness, sadness that I have been a slave to for most of my life, sadness that has crippled me and paralysed me beyond this before, sadness that makes me, well, sad. But it seems that I have to give in in order not to give up.

Friday, June 12, 2009

madnessmadnessmadness

I am forgetful. Enough to forget my medication sometimes. Maybe that's why I feel like shit right now.
But I have remembered them all these few days. I should be all right by now.
Yet, I am not all right. And I don't feel like talking about it. Talking is confrontational. I hate confrontation more than some people hate change.
My cats have lost all sensitivity to human emotion. Slinky no longer comforts me when I cry because she is used to my depressed moments.
I know I should try to let myself feel, or in my doctor's words, enjoy simple things like flowers and drinks and music. But nothing I can think of will cheer me up now. Not even ice-cream or chocolate or flowers. If I were to take out my paints and brushes and paint now, I will cry as I paint; it is too painful, painting is too lyrical, too emotive, even if it is just simple drawings.
Primary processing, primary processing. All I can spontaneously feel is pain and sadness. I am suppose to enjoy the sensory things. Smell, taste, all except touch, because I hate being touched.
I turned on music. I am not enjoying anything, music is so empty even if it is superbly performed.
I wish I still drank. Inebriation and pleasure. But I can no longer drink as much as I used to, neither should I be able to in fact.
I should let the trembling and muteness take over. Physical manifestations of sadness. Also sensory anyway.
I wonder if I hug one of my cats and rock myself in sadness how they will feel.

primary processing

Lucidness eludes me. I often feel detached from reality yet I don't have enough will to get back into it. I want to be clear-headed, but I cannot really do it: I end up distracted, having to do more than one thing at any one time otherwise I cannot concentrate. Packets of my memory seem to be beyond the grasp of my consciousness. I cannot remember what happened to my first dog Rocky whom I had when I was a kid.

I feel as detached from my feelings as I do when I was young. I don't remember much of my childhood, except times which were sad or lonely. I do not at all remember any time at all in my growing up that can be classified as happy. Any form of pleasure from playing felt more like a relief from having nothing to do. A relief that feels much like applied pressure on a wound to stop it from bleeding.

I have been trying to write about my memories, or talk about them. But they only make me realise that there are lapses in time I don't remember anything except poignant sadness or silent loneliness.

I try to allow myself to feel, spontaneously, instead of rationally - primary processing it is termed, by Freud. But I cannot get out of the clockwork of rationalising my sadness away. Because sadness scares me, and when I try to feel, that is all I seem to feel at all. I try to administer myself simple pleasures, but nothing tempts me, I enjoy nothing, I am still anhedonic. Any activity is only a distraction to keep me sane.

I have been watching TV drama series on the internet, medical ones included. When the story involves a person 'going to crash', I wish sometimes that they would defillibrate my heart and mind instead to shock it into life once again, before I 'crash'.

I cannot do socialising. I tried to return to my social circle via the phone and the internet but I don't feel up to it, like as if turning on MSN takes so much energy, even more than it does to make a cup of coffee.

If I try to relax, I started to crumble, even physiologically: I find myself rocking or shaking, I feel like I can no longer utter a word out of my mouth. If spontaneous feeling is the antidote to anhedonia, then it is as good as saying allowing my depression to take over is the key to treating my depression.

I am tired. Of this journey. Of not being able to work. Of not being much more well and functional than is ideal. This year I will be thirty. I don't know when I will recover. All I want to do now is cry. That is the outward sign of the only emotion I ever really knew.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

inertia and momentum

I just finished typing the first of Enid's art history books and am feeling a little lost at sea. Starting on the second has not really helped so far. I feel disjointed because I have been typing in a frenzy and momentum has built up within me for productive things. I feel like I should go out but I should also save money. Yet I have no mood to do things at home such as cooking or cleaning.

I just bought a piece of cardboard on which I would like to paint a bigger picture, about 2 feet by 2 feet. At present I have not yet visualised what I will eventually paint on it. I also have a lack of space, and my easel is in Indonesia. I will also need some new brushes, a few large ones, preferably a flat one and a filbert. Perhaps I might paint it in mixed media, which means I would need to get glue and texture gel.

Maybe I ought to head to Bras Basah today. It would be therapeutic to buy my art materials, browse at Basheer. My only worry is that I would be spending money that should be saved for emergencies. I guess I had better not, I need to see the doctor tomorrow.

I could just shower, and read and snack in bed for the rest of the afternoon. It would be just as therapeutic as shopping.

what do I want to do?

Eventually, I want to go back into working for missions.

I want to go back to PLM Indonesia. I want to set up a Singapore office which will manage the two key functions - recruiting volunteers and missionaries; fund-raising and marketing communications.

I don't know how I am going to be able to do these things, but right now, I need to get better. When I am fully recovered I will be able to do it. This is the goal, I will not deviate.

Monday, May 25, 2009

I just got up and realised it was only 4 am. J woke up and that stirred me awake; he wasn't feeling well. The cats got up too, wondering what was wrong. Now I have just re-medicated and am trying to get back to sleep. Perhaps a game of Scrabble.

back to reality

I need to reintegrate. MSN, the phone, people. I need to reintegrate. I will try.