I've been watching a lot of Netflix stand-up comedies lately.
I just love how confident these performers are.
Some of them aren't even funny but they don't give a d@m* and they made sure their audience know that.
Many even come off as conceited let alone pushovers.
Jeers and critics slide off their back like it ain't nothing. (lol. look how I'm already influenced)

This kind of confidence is very alien to me.
In my abusive childhood, I was ingrained to believe that I am unworthy of being offended.
When my parents were being mean to me, when my siblings were bullying me, I was taught to believe that I had deserved such treatment - that I was bad, and the abuse was justified.
I had no right to be angry.
I had to learn to swallow my anger like it was my shame.

This toxic upbringing left a lasting bruise to my self-esteem.
Whenever I was offended, I would immediately find excuses for that perpetrator or worse, blame myself.
I had a friend (A) who takes no qualms in correcting me.
Friend (B) can't stand it and asked me why do I tolerate her.
"Oh, she doesn't meant it, she has the right intentions," I honestly said, trying to diffuse my loyal friend B's anger.
B is so annoyed at A's insensitive behaviour, (no wait, B said RUDENESS), that B warned me to never again invite A if I want to meet-up with her (B).

That was 4 years ago.
When I met up with B upon returning from Penang, I shared with her how annoyed I felt with another friend (C).
My perceptive friend B smiled.
"Penang has changed you. You are more confident now. You now know that you too have the right to be angry at others."

Her remark got me thinking.
I didn't realised all this until she said that.
That's right bitches....
I'm angry.

I'm learning to practise the wise mantra of Netflix comedians when people diss them.
....................

.....................

F*ck You!

Taken entirely from https://www.facebook.com/itsoknottobeokay/

This image has really got me this morning.
A man wanting to jump off a bridge in London, talked round by absolute strangers who proceeded to hold him for an hour until help arrived to get him down safely. Look at that grip. Look at the care, compassion, selflessness & determination shown by complete strangers to a fellow human being.
There is so much more good than bad around us, just sharing a little of it. Wishing the man a full recovery. 

- Anne Rarity

Taken entirely from aplus.com/Mental-Health-Month
Poppy Farrugia has been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression. But none of this stopped her from taking on one extra challenge —  competing in the 26.2 mile London Marathon on April 23, along with 40,000 other runners.
Mental health was an important theme at this year's London Marathon, which was also referred to as the "mental health marathon." The event saw people from around the world come together to take part in the challenge, while advocating for mental health awareness.

Farrugia was one of ten runners involved in the Heads Together campaign, which featured London Marathon participants who are living with, or have been affected by, mental health issues. Their goal was to compete in the marathon and raise awareness about mental health conditions, while tackling surrounding stigmas.

Farrugia prepared for five months for the big event by training with other runners and going to the gym. Her training sessions were profiled in the two-part BBC series Mind over Marathon, which focused on the connection between mental and physical health.

"I want to show everyone and anyone who has ever doubted me, or looked at the worst in me, to see that I have actually just done something that is pretty incredible," she said in the video, adding that the journey helped her become more "stable, centered and grounded. It has given me focus and something to work towards."

And she accomplished her goal by crossing the finish line.

"We all share a common goal of wanting to move past a barrier and move forward."

In a HuffPost article, Farrugia wrote, "I can proudly say ... I overcome the odds and managed to ignore the bad thoughts and completed the London marathon!  I can say that today, my mental health and what's happened to me does not define me. I am Poppy, I have seen and been though stuff that nobody should, but I've come out the other side with a smile on my face and sense of pride."

She concluded, "Thoughts come and go, you've just got to learn to love yourself."

Taken entirely from en.newsner.com

"If y'all need any kindling wood, please come buy from this precious 80-year-old elderly man. His name is Kenneth. He parks on the corner of Carl leggett and west Taylor Rd. In Gulfport Right near bayou bluff. He is there every day for hours. Selling for $5 a bag.
Background story: Last year he was there selling as well, but he had his sweet little wife, Helen, with him. He was selling to help pay for his wife's doctor visits and bills.
This year he is alone."

 

"He said his wife, Helen, lost her battle to cancer a few weeks ago and he is still selling to cover pay for her doctor bills.
My heart breaks every time I pass him. He waves at every single car that passes.
Friday I was at the stop sign as a funeral procession was passing by. And he was standing alert with his straw hat over his heart. Precious man.

"After I posted this, a GoFundMe account was created by Kenneth's son Leslie. Not by me.
I don't know the extent of his bills, but have been told that he and his wife spent all of their life savings to cover doctor bills over the last few years of her treatment and he is having a hard time making ends meet," wrote Jessica.
And her message moved people all around the country. Soon, strangers flocked to Gulfport to buy firewood from Kenneth.
So far his GoFundMe has raised an incredible $100,000 in about a week! Isn't it amazing what humans can do when we work together?
Although I think there's something wrong with the US healthcare system that cancer treatments leave people in financial ruin, I choose to emphasize the positive in this story.

I went jalan jalan. (shopping stroll).
As I was munching my McFillet, I noticed a man (40s) rocking back and forth on the bench with an elderly woman whom I presumed to be his mother.
The man was eating a cone of ice-cream and he was poking his face with the other arm repetitively.

It was so eeriely familiar.
Back in 2005-2006 I was rocking myself like that too whenever I sat down.
I think it was the side effects of the medication.
It messed up the nerves in the head.

An elderly man whom I presumed it's the father joined them and they left the bench.
The father held his hand like how we would hold on to a child's.
I wonder if he'd have any chance of a more independent lifestyle in near future.
I felt so sad.

I went to Ikea and was welcomed by a very jovial middle-aged Indian lady.
Her smile and soothing voice delighted me immediately.
Her approach was so friendly that I was prompted to ask about the membership program.
She was so helpful that I signed up immediately.

You know, back in my school days, I would have told you that my ambition is to be this and that, the usual stuff that defines the materialistic success, big salary, big car, big house etc.
But now, I can tell you wholeheartedly that I want to be like that Ikea lady.
Someone who is genuinely content and takes pride in her work.
You can't fake that kind of serene joy.

I used to tell people that my retirement ambition is to sell newspaper at night. (The Chinese press has evening papers which has a strong readership).
The hours are short and flexible.
It'd be a great way to earn side income while waiting for bedtime (this is a scenario for years later).
Also, newspaper has a way of keeping me excited all the time.
Friends would tease me, "You can do it right now! Why wait?"
I'd just smile of course, as it's not financially viable now.
That's why it's a 'retirement' plan.

You see, if I can be selling newspaper in the evening, it would mean that I'd still have my health despite my old age.
And I'd have enough money NOT to work full-time but just for 3 hours a day.
It'd be a great way to kill time and I'd have something to look forward to everyday.
More importantly, I would have matured to a point where I'm not even bothered should there be any acquaintances who might degrade and gossip maliciously just coz (American slang).
I should be so proud if I can rise above and do that.

Hence, it'd be a great personal success if I can do that when I'm old.

Taken entirely from sadhguru.org

Right now somebody else, if they determine what should happen around you, you feel like a slave, but right now somebody else is determining what should happen within you. Is this not slavery? Somebody can decide whether you’re happy or unhappy, is this not slavery? Somebody can decide whether you will be a pleasant human being or an unpleasant human being, is this not slavery?

What happens within you, somebody else determines – this is the worst form of slavery, isn’t it? Isn’t it so? It is just that because everybody is like that it seems to be normal; it is not. It is not normal. Just because everybody is like that, it does not become normal. This human being, life around you will not happen… will never happen hundred percent the way you want it, and it should not happen; because if everything happens the way you want it, where do I go? I’m very happy it’s not happening your way. And now that you’re a student? You’re still a student? I believe about sixty, seventy percent is happening your way. When you get married, the percentage will get reversed. We don’t know. We don’t know whether which way it’ll go. So if… life around you will never happen hundred percent the way you want it and it should not. Unless you’re living with machines, life will not happen and even those machines will freak on you, isn’t it? Aren’t the machines troubling you every day for something or the other? They do.

So outside will never happen hundred percent the way you want it and if your happiness or your joyfulness or let’s not use all these so many words – essentially it is pleasantness versus unpleasantness. For pleasantness we have many names, we call it peace, happiness, joy, bliss, ecstasy. For unpleasantness we have many names – stress, anxiety, fear, tension, whatever else, madness, whatever. Pleasantness versus unpleasantness – if your pleasantness is dependent upon what happens around you, the chances of you being pleasant all the time is remote, isn’t it? In the very nature of things it’s not possible. Only if you’re able to create a distance between this and that, it is possible, in the sense. Whenever things don’t work, there is a habit in lots of people, they will look up, uperwala. Hmm? Isn’t it? The whole world is looking up.

Looking up. See, you know the planet is round? You know this? Okay. The planet is round and you’re not sitting on top of the North Pole, you’re sitting in Chennai, here in the tropical climate and the damn planet is spinning, so if you look up you’re always looking up in the wrong direction isn’t it? You’re invariably looking up in the wrong direction. Isn’t it so? Maybe at a certain moment of, whatever, Greenwich Mean Time, zero hours, when you looked up maybe you hit the heaven; rest of the time you’re always looking in the wrong direction. Isn’t it so? So in this cosmic space, is there somebody who knows which is up and which is down? Does somebody know? Hmm? Is there somewhere is it marked, ‘This side up’? Nobody knows which is up, which is down, it’s just an assumption, isn’t it? Do you know really which is north, which is south? In the real sense do you know what is north and south? It is just for our convenience we just fixed it, isn’t it? Yes or no?

Do you know what’s east and west? No. Do you know what is forward and backward? You do not know. None of these things you know. There is only one thing you can be certain of right now – this is, you know what is outward, what is inward; this one thing you’re sure, isn’t it? This is inward, this is outward – this is the only privilege you have. What is outward, what is inward, this is all you know. Just in case some day if you get enlightened you will lose that also. Yes. That’s what happened to me – now I don’t know which is inward, which is outward, which is me, which is not me, that’s why I’m all over the world because I don’t know whether this is me or that is me. So now you say, ‘I know what is inward, what is outward,’ let’s examine this a little more. Can you see me right now, all of you? Can you see me? Just point out where I am? Use your hands and point out. Can you see me? Oh, you got it wrong. You know I’m a mystic? You’re getting it completely wrong.

Now this light is falling upon me, reflecting, going through your lenses, inverted image in your retina – you know the whole story, right? Where do you see me right now? Within yourself. Where do you hear me right now? Within yourself. Where have you seen the whole world? Within yourself. Have you ever experienced anything outside of yourself? Everything that ever happened to you – darkness and light happened within you, pain and pleasure happened within you, joy and misery happened within you. Have you ever experienced anything outside of yourself? No. So what I’m asking you is – what happens within you, who should determine how it should happen? Hmm? What happens within you, who should determine how this should happen? Somebody else? Definitely you should determine what should happen within this, isn’t it?

Taken from www.star2.com

IT’S not easy being the child of a teacher. It’s even harder if your parent is a professor. My father was a professor at Universiti Teknologi Mara. He treated me strictly and his expectations were always high.

I can’t fault him because as the son of a professor, all eyes would be on me if I did anything wrong and people would say, “You see! The son of a professor also behaves like that!”

That’s how it was. I had no choice but to be a role model. As the firstborn son, I had to endure the only kind of upbringing which my novice father knew, all the good and bad. My mother, equally clueless in child-bearing, was soft and submissive, and allowed my father to lead the family without questioning, which I felt proved to be a huge mistake.

During my secondary years, my father educated me in a forceful and ineffective way, and I was constantly under huge pressure until eventually, I went mad. I began hearing voices and music. I had feelings of grandiose. I felt as if I was the greatest man on earth and I talked incessantly. I was electrified with energy: charged with ideas that were mostly regarded as nonsense.

My teacher made a phone call to my father who picked me up from school and sent me directly to a hospital. A female doctor assessed my abnormal behaviour. She said that I was suffering from bipolar disorder and proceeded to give me a jab to calm me down, after which she discussed with my father the options I had.

For the first time in my life, I had choices: I could either be admitted or go home. They decided that I should go home as even the briefest stay at a mental ward would cast a long and gloomy shadow over my future.

I began taking medications – Risperidone and Epillim – which turned me into a whole new person: I gained 10kg in just a few weeks and looked like a zombie from World War Z. I was perpetually tired and sleepy. My uncle thought I was not cut out for books and offered me a job at his business for RM700 a month. He said, “Come help me manage my retail shop.” But I exclaimed, “NOOO!!!” and proved him wrong when I sat and passed my SPM with satisfactory results (6As) and went on to take a course in Mathematics at a private college.

After I graduated from the college, while others were busy looking for jobs, I went to bed at 7am and did not wake up until 14 hours later. I eventually found a job as a programmer and learned more about my disorder.

Bipolar disorder is a strange condition. I can be extremely overjoyed now and drop immediately into deep depression at the next moment for no obvious reasons. My self-confidence fluctuates according to these manic phases. Google says bipolar disorder is a common disease amongst architects, writers and composers – people who are engaged in creative art works.

So, I’m beginning to try and write these days – I feel better when I write and have joined two writing classes so far. Society will always stigmatise people with mental disorders, I realise. It’s hard to change how people think. Hence, it’s more important and easier to change ourselves to adapt to society. I learnt how to conceal my “illness” from society. Today, I am on lithium 400mg and Seroquel 400mg. I’m writing, and I’m feeling great.

 Taken from Dear Thelma, The Star newspaper.

I found this in the storage.
It is the board game that someone had brought over for me back when I was hospitalised in 2005.
You can see the hospital's white tag identification sticker that is partially ripped off.
The sight of this twisted my heart.
A splinter of my worst memories.

But there is one thing.
Although I don't remember the person who bought this (I think it's brand new) for me.
That person was kind.
I want to remember the kindness.

New from The Star
GEORGE TOWN: After seeing a man sitting on the ledge of Penang Bridge, tow truck service runner Tan Chin Leong knew something bad would happen if he did not act fast. 
The 41-year-old then pulled over in his motorcycle and sat next to the man.
 He struck a conversation with the 30-year-old man at Km6.8 of the island-bound lane during the 10.10am incident yesterday.

 “He told me he didn’t have money and had been jobless for a while. “His family was also upset that he still could not get a job. “He said he felt useless and all of a sudden, he burst into tears,” said Tan. 
 In a flash, Tan pushed the man and both fell onto the road from the ledge. He then restrained the man using his jacket.
 “I knew that was the right time to save him after he had let his guard down. “He lashed out at me after knocking his head on the ground as a result of the fall,” said Tan who had saved countless lives from jumping off Penang Bridge over the past decade. 
The police came to the scene after 15 minutes and took the man to the nearest police station. Tan said the man’s sisters expressed their gratitude for saving their brother’s life. As a tow truck service runner plying Penang Bridge daily, Tan made headlines in major dailies as a lifesaver who is always keeping an eye out for people who appear to contemplate jumping off the bridge. 
 He was one of the winners of last year’s Star Golden Hearts award for rescuing more than 10 people from ending their lives over the past decade. Tan, fondly known as ‘Ah Heang’, starts work at about 6am before the rush-hour begins and finishes around midnight

Taken from womenofchina.cn

Jia Wenqi has no arms. Jia Haixia is blind. These two old friends have been working together to plant more than 10,000 trees in 14 years in north China's Hebei Province.

When they work, Wenqi is Haixia's eyes and Haixia is Wenqi's arms. Like most of physically challenged people, they are neither rich. But they have made a consensus that they won't cut or sell any tree to deal for money. They just want to leave a forest to the next generation to protect the environment of their hometown.

 These photographs I saw on Brightside.Me are amazing

Class differences, Great Britain, 1937.

 Fawzia Fuad, princess of Egypt and queen of Iran, 1939.

 Ernest Hemingway fishing, 1904.

 The Great Depression era. When flour producers found out that mothers were now so poor that they were forced to sew clothes for their children from flour sacks, they began to print cheerful patterns and images on them.

 Alice Liddell — the little girl who was the inspiration for Lewis Caroll’s famous novel, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

Ducklings used as therapy animals, 1956.

I had just entered the basement parking of a shopping complex when I saw a lady shopper approaching her car.
Her car was parked at a premier parking location - just in front of the entrance.
Secondary only to the disabled car parks.
My car was just in front of hers.
But my car position wasn't right and there was a car behind me so I couldn't reverse.
It's obvious that it's the car behind me who would be the lucky one.
I lamented at my loss.

I parked my car about 50 metres away.
As I was stepping into the entrance of the shopping complex, I saw a man with his grown son (I presume) on a wheel chair. They were the ones who got that lucky parking.
The father closed his car door and I realised that it must have taken him awhile to help his son alight from the car.

I'm glad I missed that parking.
I would not want to deprive this father-son of such convenient parking.
This is definitely one of those "Everything just falls into the right places" moment.

Taken from LifeBuzz

“I met my wife when I was seventeen. I didn’t want to tell her about my schizophrenia. At the time, she liked another guy who had no issues and I didn’t want to ruin my chances. I hid the disease for a long time after we married. I would always find explanations for my strange behavior. I’d make up stories to explain my violent outbursts at work. But it got to be too much. 

By the time I admitted my disease, it was too late. She got a restraining order a year ago. I had an outburst and I hit her. She has forgiven me for the sake of our children, but they don’t live with me anymore. 

I’m on five strong medications now. I still have some difficulty controlling the pace of my thoughts. Some thoughts will begin before others end. It’s like my mind is divided. It can be tough to keep both feet in reality. But I don’t want any more problems. 

I’ve detached myself from everyone. I don’t speak at work. I spend my time alone. It’s my only way to live a normal life.” 

(Rio de Janeiro, Brazil) from Humans of New York

By Jerry Carino
NEPTUNE, N.J. - The gentleman was a regular customer at The Home Depot, but he could not find the right washer among a sea of them in the hardware department.
Sales associate Kevin Woolley came over and solved the problem in five seconds.

“No. 10, right there,” Woolley said, pointing to the elusive piece.
“That’s why I look for him,” the customer said, gesturing to Woolley. “I would have been here an hour trying to find this thing.”
It’s an ordinary day on the job for Woolley, a 40-year-old from Belmar who has been with The Home Depot for 20 years, the past 10 in the Neptune store. The only extraordinary thing is Woolley himself. He has cerebral palsy, which gives him a severe limp, slurred speech and difficulty gripping things.

It has done nothing to dampen the spirit of the store’s most beloved employee -- and one of its most valuable people.
“When we don’t know something a customer asks about, we go to Kevin,” said fellow sales associate Caridad Gonzalez, who has been on the job for six months. “He knows it all.”
Woolley trained Gonzalez and many others who don The Home Depot’s trademark orange apron. They are in awe of his encyclopedic knowledge and his interactions with others.

“He’s extremely impressive,” Gonzalez said. “He’s awesome with customers. They love him. Every other customer who comes in here shakes hands with him.”
As they should. Kevin Woolley is a walking, talking reminder that life deals us the cards but we choose how to play them. A brief encounter with him offers a major dose of perspective.

Woolley’s cerebral palsy was caused by a distressed birth. He was delivered via C-section after suffering a lack of oxygen to his brain. His fine motor skills were permanently diminished.
“It’s difficult for him to pick up an ice cream cone or a piece of pizza,” his father, Henry Woolley, said. “But whenever I’m assembling something like a barbecue grill, which I’m not great at, he’ll say, ‘Do this dad, do that.’ He can see it; he just can’t perform the function.”

There is plenty he can do, like drive a car and send a text message. He’s a good listener and quick-witted. He grew up in Belmar and still lives there with his parents, and when I tell him I used to spend summers in the borough’s old party zone along 16th Avenue, he replies, “Sorry to hear that,” like only a wry local could.

Kevin attended the local public schools, and at Manasquan High he became a manager on the powerhouse football team under the late coach Vic Kubu. He also ran track.
“He would run the dash and come in last, but he tried,” Henry Woolley said. “I always told him, it doesn’t matter. Give it a try.”

In 1996 Kevin moved to Colorado to live with his older brother Chris. His career at The Home Depot began there. He’s worked in virtually every department over the years, doing whatever is needed, although he’d rather not climb ladders.

“I could work anywhere they want to put me,” he said. “I know what I can and can’t do, and they know what I can and can’t do.”

When Phil Kramer was about to become the Neptune store’s manager last year, transferring from a North Jersey outlet, he took a reconnaissance tour of the place with his wife one weekend afternoon. No one knew who they were.
“Kevin was the only person who acknowledged me,” Kramer said. “He was the only one who said, ‘Hi, how are you doing? What can I help you with?’”

It didn’t take long for the new boss to realize, “This guy lives and breathes what we’re trying to do every day.”
Loyal customers have known that for many years. Within five minutes on Tuesday afternoon, one asked him for white siding nails and another sought his opinion on the right blade for a planer.

“He has a good heart, and I’ll tell you this: Wherever I go with him, somebody will say, ‘Hi Kev, how are you doing?” Henry Woolley said. “I’ll say to him, ‘Who is this person?’”
Chances are they shop at The Home Depot.
“We were at the hospital for an X-ray (recently),” his dad said, “and we’re walking down the hall when a patient comes out of his room and says, ‘Hey, it’s Kevin from Home Depot!’”

He’s at the store five days a week, putting in 40 hours. That’s a lot of time on his feet for someone who walks with difficulty.
“It’s a hard job for him there, but Kevin gets through it,” Henry Woolley said. “We never mention ‘handicap’ to him. He knows he’s handicapped but he never mentions it. He does OK.”

You go to The Home Depot for drill bits, not inspiration. In the hardware aisles of the Neptune store, Kevin Woolley will help you find both.

A Christian friend took this stray in. After taking care of it for about 2 difficult years because he had nose cancer, she finally decided to allow him to be put to sleep today.
I remember how excited he was when a group of us went to her place to practise a dance performance.

I'm back in Sungai Buloh.

I wrote this.

My dear Bible Study friends,                      
Forgive me for not bidding goodbye to you one by one personally.                    
I have taken a long time to compose this as all your faces constantly flash in my mind in my every attempt, and I have to pause to gather my emotions.
Basically I want to say two things.
1. Thank you for being so good to me.
2. I am sorry for not doing good enough.
If there were times where I had offended you, I humbly ask for your grace and forgiveness.
Please know that I truly appreciate all your help and loving kindness that I so undeserved, even to the extend that I feel embarrassed to face any of you now.
Initially, I felt so sad because I had come to Penang with such high hopes, I felt that I have failed myself.
But God whispered to me last Christmas, he told me to read my diary. So I did.

I compared my writings before and during my stay in Penang.
Indeed there was a difference.
It would be unfair to say that my 28 months here (Penang) was in vain.
There are lessons to take home with me.
When I was packing, there were many things that I had to throw away, no matter how useful it could be.
But when I saw my Bible Study notebook, I knew at once I had to take it home. It is filled with your precious testimonies and sharings. This notebook is a summary of the better part of my Penang experience.
Thank you for being part of my happier memory here (Penang).

I never thought I'd leave = (
Not like this.