Copied entirely from Syed Azmi

Months ago I wrote about a father who lost his job and was just feeling lost when even the rise of the toll makes him feel more helpless.
I met him few nights ago. He came as he saw me at my usual place and said "Thank You!". He now works as an uber driver and doing well, around RM800 a week nett.
It is temporary he said at first but he finds the driving and meeting people therapeutic.
I am actually happy to see him looking so alive. It must be hard for him but at least he is trying what he can.
We had a good hug and I wish him all the best.
Good things takes time.

I've been baking.

ShW introduced me to this book. 

The author, Marie Day wrote a children's book about schizophrenia, an illness that affected her brother. 

I'm always amazed how some people can turn the difficulties in their lives into blessings for others.

Something to cheer myself up. For some unknown reasons, I lost those natural curls.

“Breathe. You're going to be okay. Breathe and remember that you’ve been in this place before. You’ve been this uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and you've survived. Breathe and know that you can survive this too. These feelings can’t break you. They're painful and debilitating, but you can sit with them and eventually, they will pass. Maybe not immediately, but sometime soon, they are going to fade and when they do, you'll look back at this moment and laugh for having doubted your resilience. I know it feels unbearable right now, but keep breathing, again and again. This will pass. I promise it will pass.” -Daniell Koepke

This is the nice hairdo Ruyi did for me for the camp dance.

"Thanks! I feel so special !"

"You are special !" said sweet Ruyi.

I was washing my dishes after breakfast and I paused.
Just paused.
Exhaled.
I really liked that job.
I'm unemployed again.
I gave a moment to grieve before continuing on with the dishes.

I was really happy.

After consecutive days of waking up to dark anxious mornings, I woke up feeling 'empty' this morning.
Yes, empty.
I have no where to be this morning.
I'm not happy, but neither am I in the claws of darkness.
It's not serenity, but my heart isn't beating to the rhythms of paralyzing anxiety.
My gratitude is hesitant.

A friend asked me how I'm doing.
I gave a detailed account of what had happened for the past few days.
She asked if I had taken my medication as prescribed.
I truthfully said no and explained why.
She was annoyed and pressed on the importance of taking medication as prescribed by doctor.

I was hurt but didn't argue.
She, who doesn't take medication as prescribed by doctor whenever she is unwell, constantly tells me that the pills are my lifeline.
Perhaps a little background story.
My old job, the one I just left 2 days ago, required me to work more than the usual 8 hours. As I'm slow in picking up the ropes, I needed even more time to study the manual and etc.
The extra work meant, I couldn't sleep early, hence I couldn't take my medicine at 6pm, which will make me sleepy by 9pm.
If I take any later, I feared that I might have trouble waking up in the morning.
Therefore, I have not been taking my medicine for the past 1 month and slept at 11pm every night, waking up at 6.30am for work, which has been good for me.
Being able to be motivated to go to work in the morning is a big deal for me, as my biggest problem was otherwise.

But she didn't hear any of that.
My testimony of what the medication have done, and still does to me for the past 12 years of treatment, the debilitating side effects and futile trial prescriptions, or how I am trying to adjust to normal working life seem to have fallen on deaf ears.
All that was important was that I didn't take the pills.
To her, the pills are my best chances to my problems.

It became obvious to me now that she only sees me as my illness.

She did not hear about the feedback from my team leader that I'm too slow and not alert enough.
She did not hear about my disappointment in myself for not being able to keep the job.
She did not hear that I was really happy for the past 2 months and am devastated that I can't seem to hold on to happiness.
To her, my environment, the people, my work, my feelings, my thoughts ; all these aren't as solid as the pills.
Not taking the pills are the cause of my problems.
Mental illness + pills = Me as a whole person.
Mental illness = Me.

I am hurt.
My psychiatric condition has given me a label that outweighs my words and feelings.
She doesn't see me as a person, but an illness.
Worst, an illness she chose to understand only by textbook.
I have never denied that I need treatment.
Matter of fact, I have always been open to share that I'm seeking treatment, as part of self-care and to destigmatize mental illness.

But I am a person.

Not a problem with a prescription.

I went back to clear my things.
No apology is enough.
I know that my leaving will add more work to the team.
I 'left' the group chats etc.
As I removed all the post-it notes on my monitor screen and cubicle wall, I can't help but feel sentimental.
All my notes now mean nothing anymore.
I logged off my ID from the phone, realising that I have never once made a phone call.
Wow, exactly two months.
I came in on the 18th and now leaving on 17th.

I really really feel sad about this.
Like a breakup.
I really wanted this to work.
I was really happy.
And I keep questioning myself what went wrong?
Did I give up too soon?
Did I try hard enough?
Could it have worked out?

My team leader courteously apologized if she had pushed me too hard and asked about my treatment.
She's really a reasonable boss.
I'm just so sorry that I'm not quicker and sharper.

Meanwhile, my good friend sent the below to cheer me up.
It did, for awhile.

I don't know what exactly happened.
I came back from the 4-days church camp and I was terribly exhausted.
Had the physical exhaustion affected my mind?
I was just beginning to grasp the work momentum when suddenly I was told there's more expected from me.
I really couldn't cope.
I went to the toilet to cry.
Cried more at the obvious let-down of who I am.

I was so happy.
Really I was.
My handwriting in my journals told me so.
It was my rare, happy handwriting.

During the camp, I was so happy.
I remember giving thanks that things are finally looking up.
And now, I've fallen flat yet again.

Inhale.
Exhale.
I'll have to search for a job again.
Gawd, I just ask that I don't feel this useless.

"As the great philosopher Benjamin Affleck once said, 'Judge me by how good my good ideas are, not how bad my bad ideas are,'" Damon said.

"You've got to suit up in your armor. You've got to get ready to sound like a total fool. Not having an answer isn't embarrassing — it's an opportunity," Damon said.

Naturally, Damon, who involves himself in various political causes, made jokes about the presidential election, but got serious about urging graduates to figure out what good they want to do in the world.

"What is the problem you will try to solve? Whatever your answer, it is not going to be easy," Damon said.

"Sometimes your work will hit a dead end. Sometimes your work will be measured in half steps. Sometimes your work will make you wear a white sequined military uniform and make love to Michael Douglas," joked Damon, referring to his role in the Liberace biopic "Behind the Candelabra."

"All right, maybe that's just my work. But for all of you here, your work starts today," concluded Damon.

Taken from www.today.com/popculture