It's a cold morning.

Wind was howling.

Unemployment is getting to me.

I think this period is essential.

My words to a friend, "I should suffer, so that I'd remember how bad unemployment stinks."

I need to remember the pain of unemployment so that I'd try harder to keep the job next time.

Especially when the anxiety and darkness come knocking with its lies and paralyzing fear.

The masseuse massaged the center of my neck, "Aiyo miss, how come your muscle here so stiff? Young lady like you shouldn't have such stiff muscles."
"Are you very stressed?"

She isn't the first masseuse to say so.
I had another who pointed out that my stiffness is a ''storage of the negative emotions that I carry''.
She even made me realised that my lymph nodes between my chest and armpits are unnaturally swollen.
"Do you get anxious easily?"

Although usually I rather enjoy this 'me' time silently resting, sometimes I open up to them too.
And they would cheer me up with positive comments.

These sessions are very therapeutic.

Penny: I'm so sorry. I know that that's useless to you right now. But I am. He saved all those people. And it was my job... to save him. And I failed. And now... He's gonna die... Because I was not a good enough doctor... to keep him alive.
Meredith: Yeah, you're right. You did fail. You weren't good enough. But do you know what tomorrow is? It's Friday. There's gonna be more patients who come in who need you to save them... someone's mother, someone's kid, someone's husband. They need you to save them because they can't save themselves. So learn from this, better yourself, and you will be better for next time.
Penny: What if I'm not?
Meredith: You will be.
Penny: How can you know that?
Meredith: Because he was your one. Every patient you treat, you're going to see my husband's face and remember that he was the one that died on your watch. He will haunt you. The hard ones always do. And it only takes that one. But that one will make you work harder, and they make you better. Or they make you quit, and you don't get to waste what would have been the rest of my husband's life being a quitter. So get back inside because you're not saving any lives out here.

You’re Never Going to Be Fully Ready by Shauna Niequist
Start on your knees, no shame in falling, don’t go out too far, avoid the jet skis. But the next thing I knew, she was really far out. My son Henry and I paddled out to her, and I asked if she needed help.

I can stand up, she said. But then I can’t get stable, and I can’t start paddling till I get stable.

I totally get it, I said. But here’s the thing: it’s the paddling that makes you stable, not the other way around. You’ll never stay up unless you start paddling.

Recently, this image came back to mind because of a conversation we had around our dinner table.
A friend of ours was talking.

She was sharing about all the things she is trying to figure out, arrange in her mind, make a plan for, make sense of. She said, “There are so many things I want to do this year, and I realize that I’ve been trying to think it all through for so long. But you know what? I’ll never have all the information. I’ll never know all there is to know about something. Sometimes you just have to act.”

Exactly that. One thousand times that.
Sometimes you just have to act.

Because it’s the paddling that keeps you on the board. It’s the forward motion that gives you the stability you need. Sometimes we just have to pick a direction and start pulling that paddle through the water, and along the way we’ll get the stability and confidence we’re looking for. But you’ll never find it at the beginning, standing there, waiting for the waves to stop shaking the board.

The waves never stop shaking the board.
Forward motion brings stability.

I’ve come back to Voltaire’s words a million times: Perfect is the enemy of the good.

You’ll never feel totally ready. The plan will never be perfectly formed. You’ll never have the money you think you need or the support you wish you had. You’ll never feel as strong and prepared as everyone else seems. (Psst: they’re not that strong and prepared, either. No one is.)

Just paddle, because that’s what gives you what you need to stay afloat. Paddle, because forward motion allows you to steer, to turn, to head into a wave, or away from one. Paddling is what puts you in charge of the situation, instead of being at the mercy of the waves, waiting for stability that will never come.

No one feels ready.
No one has every last thing they need. But the people who change their lives, the people who make beautiful things, the people who make a difference in our world—they are the people who paddle, who are willing to do it badly, who give up perfect in favor of good.

Another gem: anything worth doing is worth doing badly. That’s Chesterton, who I just adore. (I read Orthodoxy every year and find a dozen new treasures every time.)

What do you need to start doing badly, instead of pretending that there will be some magic moment when you are able to do it perfectly?
It’s time to paddle.

What have you been over-thinking, wiggling like a loose tooth? Are you hiding, planning, and information gathering, because you’re scared to plunge into something new?
Are you letting your desire to do it flawlessly keep you from doing it at all?

Here’s to paddling imperfectly—badly, even. It’s what keeps us afloat.  

-  Shauna Niequist

Last night, my housemate had a date with a guy whom she's really into.
She shyly denies it, but the obvious joy on her face and the giggles confirmed it. It was such a blissful sight to see how happy she was.
I witnessed all the trouble she went through to prepare the cake and dinner for him.
Hence, it would really be awkward if I were to be at home too.
Where to go?
I really need to cut back on expenses, so the cheapest thing I could do was to walk across the road for a prolonged dinner.
But I couldn't stay too long, the weather was cold and the air-cond was on full blast, so I went back to the building's common floor and waited.

 This is where I sat.                                                                                

Being unemployed, my act of staying out to give privacy to my housemate is perhaps the most significant work I've done for the week.

It is hard not to feel sorry for myself when I thought of it.

As I sat alone, looking at the sky, I pondered on my milestones, "What am I doing? Should I worry?"

Then I browsed my site to see what I was doing during this time in 2014 and 2013.

In 2013, I was inspired by Tsang Tsz-Kwan who is blind and severely hearing impaired. "I have to accept I'm disadvantaged ... I decided to take the challenge whatever the results, I think the most important thing is the courage to face the challenge.The inconveniences and limitations [my impairments] bring will follow me my whole life, I must have the courage to face the facts ... I'm going to treasure what I still have."

In 2014, I told myself "In the next World Cup 2018 Russia, I want to be in a place where when I look back to 2014, I can have a wide horizon.

I want to be in awe how far I've come."

Though I haven't got much to show for after 2 years, but I'm glad I had dared to make the changes that I could.

I'm doing ok.

When dealt with a hand of bad cards, many of us don't expect to 'win' the game, but we play the best we can.
Losing as little as possible, making the opponent win as little as possible, is considered a form of victory too, in many competitive games.
Hence, there is one painful fact that I must admit.
Though I have been dealt a set of really bad playing cards, I have played the 'game' really badly.
Many people get bad cards, even worse, horrific cards.
A majority of people do, we see it everyday in the news.
Eg, everyday we read about the refugees risking their lives to cross the border for the unknown.
The warrior spirit in them pushes for them to do the best they can.
They do what they can for the day, fueled only with courage and hope, and perhaps even desperation.
They really put me to shame.

These unemployment days have given me time to retrospect myself.
I have played the 'game' really badly.
Having a set of bad cards is still no excuse.
Bad decisions, one after another.
I let the darkness 'win' so many times.
Repetitive mistakes.
The shame is inevitable.
It's not self-pity, more like self-exam.
And the results is undeniable.
I know it's not my fault that I have this terrible disease, but I really could have played my cards better.
My employability chances will diminish as I age .
I really must do better.
I've got to keep on trying.
It's the only way.

Below is a photo I got from FB that illustrates someone who is playing her cards really well. Too bad I have no idea what's her name.

Copy and paste of previous online chats. -
Me : I really feel stagnant. Not that I want to feel sorry for myself... but things does seem futile for me.. I really hope to find that little corner on this earth where I don't feel this useless.
Friend : I'm proud u tried. It's huge!
And u gotta keep on trying. That's the only way to go
Me : it's kinda comforting that i'm surrounded by ppl who continue to have my back, despite my poor track record . It's because of my church friend and housemate that I have these 2 job interviews, at first i was hesitant.... but now kinda desperate... i have no other interview invites..
Friend: I've told u this before and I'd say it again... Its bcoz ppl are not done with u,  so u gotta keep trying too, k: Yeah also gotta be practical,  get a job and stay at it. Following through is the most important but hardest part.

I took a photograph of this painting by Patrick Lasak in a home for the psychiatric patients.

When I looked at it, I felt that hope is at the end of the dark tunnel.

Taken from Ooi Kok Hin's fb post.

My friend jumped from the 15th floor last night. An hour ago, I stood there near the spot, looking up to his window.
Of course, it's the 15th floor. How can I forget that all along? I've been there when I was 8-9 years old. We were buddies in the same school in the same neighborhood.
Our neighborhood isn't the kindest there is. There are gangs, which often flourish in a low-income community. Where and who else can you hang out with after school, if not the gangs? He and I hang out with the same circle.
In standard 4, I got a lucky break and was put in the first class of the school. Life, companions, and interests in the first class are distinctly different from the second-last class (The only thing we almost always look forward to was to "settle" a dispute after school hours. Or role-playing WWF at the back when the teacher is not around)
We drifted apart. In the past 10 years, I slowly became the person most of you know today. He plunged deeper and deeper to the dark hole: gangs, illegal stuff, lokaps.
You know how our achievements isn't entirely ours? My family always have my back, my friends and teachers are there for me, my cousins paid for my Form 5 tuition. They are good influence and provide the conducive environment for me to grow.
If we shouldn't take entire credits for our success, we shouldn't absorb all the blame for our failures. I've been asked a couple of times, and I've asked myself this too, "When and where did it go all wrong for this friend? Why did he choose this unforgivable, no future route?"
It's not that people like him have much choices, anyway. It's a problem in our society. Those who dropped out of the system are left to fend for themselves entirely. It was in the news recently that a group of JPA scholars are raising public donation to fund their million-ringgit overseas education. Do you realize this is a problem because you are privileged enough to have the problem?
People like my friend: flung school, only manages conversational-level Malay and very little English, his mom ran away with his sister, his parents divorced. It's all a vicious cycle, one bad thing reinforced another and he plunged further. To a point he could not be reached.
It's crazy. We were just kids back then. If I knew how it would turn out, what would I say to him when we were 9-years old? Maybe I will ask about his ambition, what does him want to do in life.
We met once last year. He asked me for money. When there's a second time, I was afraid there will be a third, and create dependency. I became almost afraid of my friend, but I stood my ground. Why that last call has to be about me telling him I just started working and couldn't continue to give him money? Why didn't I invite him for coffee? Maybe it isn't money that could have saved him.
What do I know. We were from the same school from the same neighborhood. Had some things in life got placed differently, I could've gone down that route too. It isn't just about individual choices, but also the situation, environment, support & help from others, and lucky breaks that separate our fortune.
Take time to remember what others have done for and to us. Those who have done well in life do not make it on their own. Similarly, those who do not make it don't fail on their own. The people and the environment in their life failed them, too.
We should all be kinder. God knows what the others are going through when they come to us for help.

I was surprised when the TCM physician explained to me that he has only given me herbal relaxation ingredient in my Chinese medicinal herbs twice, once in April and another in May. The other medicinal herbs that were prescribed was for other physical illness.
I looked at him dumbfounded.
"Do you want me to prescribe those? I can if you do."
I pondered momentarily.
"Er, no."
Then what helped my mood for the past 3 months?
What was I doing right?
I rested my head on the wall while waiting for my chiropractic treatment.
I looked as if I had been handed bad news.
Seeing this TCM physician is one of the 2 news things I've done in the past 3 months.
If the reason of my recent better days are because of his herbs, it would be much easier.
If it's the other reason, it's not.
I have stopped contacting my family.
No phone calls, nothing.

I am reminded of what I had written back in June last year.

Family.
It makes up a big part of our identity.
It represents who we are.
But family isn't family anymore -
when situations always get out of hand;
when toxic feelings overwhelm simple logic;
when words are never kind but only to hurt;
when even the company of a stranger is more welcoming;
when survival instincts is to disassociate oneself from them.

Disassociation from such suffocation is as significant as air.
It is for survival.
It is not heartless.

Taken from Humans of Singapore
"How long have you been writing poems?"
"I write poems since I was twelve years old. At the time I write a very simple poem which I cannot even remember, I think it is something about my school. But someone tell me I write very nicely, so I keep on writing. Nowadays I write about my life as a migrant worker. My favorite poem is called Loneliness. I wrote it two years back. It is about the time that I was feeling very lonely when working here in Singapore - and I had no one to comfort me. All I needed was a hug. So instead of grieving about it, I decided I will write about it. And when I completed it, I felt better."
"What motivates you to keep on writing these days?"
"When I don't write about something - when I keep everything to myself - then all that emotion is inside me. But when I write it, it is not a part of me anymore - it is on a piece of paper.. It is like letting go of something very close to you, you see? 
It is easy to keep it close to heart and to hold on to it - but sometimes you have to let it escape too. So when I write, I let go. And I hope that when some person reads it, he or she can also feel what I feel - even if it only for a few minutes.

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