I've been more stable lately.
MTn AmK queried me.

"I think I finally got the right pieces of the puzzle together.

In the past, I've been forcing the wrong pieces together and the picture just didn't make sense.
I got lost.
Confused.
Depressed.

Now, the pieces slide nicely with each other.
The puzzle pieces fit.
The picture is ugly.
But ugly truth is better than a misleading illusion.

No matter how painful and ugly,
I sense peace in facing the truth.
My truth.

I've been sending out flowers to my friends.

Such joy to spread the love.

I love the promotional campaign slogan the florist is using.

#justbecause

We don't need a reason to send flowers .

We should just do.

 

update June,2020

 Aidil Adha.

 "Aren't you afraid? Standing so close to the sacrificial slaughtering site?"
"No way!"
After the deed was done, he sheepishly wiped his eyes with his right arm.
"You crying?"
He gave a firm nod, without turning around. 

I wrote this on the group's comment page.

My dear friends , I’ve had this nagging desire to drop a note here for the longest time. But each time I was prompted, I’ve always felt that I was unworthy, that I wasn’t good enough to execute my intention. Oh, the song posted by Tze N really made me teary.

I felt it was a confirmation from God that I must fulfil the deed.

My dear dear Church friends. Oh how often I’ve thought of you each one of you.

Simple daily things that I see, hear, feel, or do can easily bring back those Church memories.

For example, just random thoughts….

How Tracy stood outside my old place in Jelutong with bags of pasar groceries waiting for me. It was a cooking / eating day for us. Due to fault of mine, she had to wait outside in the hot humid weather for me.

Tracy, I have not forgotten your cooking tips! And how I love your “Abudden” jokes. And how you had taught me your family secret of frying an egg.

And Jessie ’s clear enunciating voice that can put many radio presenters to shame. How she would laugh at herself.

Tze; her facial expression when she is in deep thought, and how she elegantly finger-swipes her Ipad when she is sharing or preaching.

Samantha N how she claps her hand to brush off the stain while cooking. And the many cute candid stories which she shared in BS. Samantha, I will never forget that during my darkest hour, you had very nonchalantly open up those encouraging videos for me to watch. It was really kind of you. You were so sensitive. You didn’t ask me anything. You purposely kept the conversation light.

I will think of Pastor Lean S each time I’m in those wholesale snack shops ( which is very often). I will never forget her sharing in the Cameron Highlands, about ‘planting seeds’. The discussion was serious, but you didn’t want to give too much pressure to the sharing group, you said, “.. . something for you to think about, …” how you had gestured by dropping the metaphorical seed. Lol how your hand gestures will fly up when you need to make a point.

I will always remember Shirly G sharing about her students, how she persevered with the ex- Principal, how she will allow her students to see her sunburns and suffering or else her students xin li bu ping heng… so funny

I’d remember the nice free bakeries we enjoyed from Edinlyn. Yvonne Por’s comical “Jinjia you?”- Korean.

Pei’s love and concern for me during our private chats and her husband’s pandan jelly ! lol. and when Sam drew a mole on his 'ugly' picture during the game of  pictionary and Ps Steven was offended. He laughed till he teared up... lol ah.. Who can forget all those great games we played

So so many memories… 

Thank you for all your love and acceptance of me. Forgive me for not keeping in close touch. My heart is true.

On my first outing with friends since my depression- hibernation.
She hugged me and whispered, "So good to see you alright."
My body shivered.
My eyes glistened.

I was very close to the borderline.

Have changed my blog intro.
Decided to save old one here.
Clarity is a rare luxury in my life. My very own mind betrays me.
It sends me self-destructive information,causing me to be lost in the ruins of my actions.
I have more appointments with the psychiatrists than with friends.
This blog helps me remember who I am and the dangers that lurk inside of me.
I thank you for your readership.Your presence here makes me feel less alone.
I now live my life imitating the words of Tom Hanks in Castaway-
“I know what I have to do.I have to keep breathing.
And tomorrow the sun will rise, who knows what the tide will bring in.”

I was given a written test.

My best friend.

My best friend? I chuckled inwardly.

Who to write?

Here goes.

I met up with ShW.
She is facing some problems with her work situation.
Her boss gave her the 2nd written warning letter due to poor work appraisal.
She was also not eligible to receive this year's bonus.
Fortunately, she has found a new workplace.

Still, she felt bad.
I tried very hard to let her know how much I admire her.
"You went to work EVERYDAY, despite having the Darkness pulling you down.
It's no simple feat. I can imagine the effort to overcome the difficulty.
I really look up to you."

She just gave a weary thin smile.

I came across this movie while browsing online.

NY Times Movie Review

Glória Pires stars as Dr. Nise da Silveira (1905-1999), who as the film opens is taking up a post at a psychiatric hospital near Rio de Janeiro in 1944. She settles into a seat in a lecture hall where the benefits of lobotomies via thin spike are being extolled, then witnesses a cruel demonstration of another favorite technique, electroshock therapy.

“I don’t believe in healing through violence,” she tells colleagues, but, especially since she is a woman, they are dismissive. They assign her to what they think is busywork.

She transforms the insult into opportunity, creating a unit in which patients who had been written off are given a chance to express themselves through painting and other art forms. The results are startling.
The movie, full of characters behaving erratically, could easily have taken on the aura of a freak show, but the director, Roberto Berliner, somehow stays respectful of the subject matter even while depicting extreme psychiatric conditions. It’s a study of courageous innovation against an entrenched medical orthodoxy.

“Our job is to cure patients, not comfort them,” one colleague chastises.

“My instrument is a brush,” Dr. Silveira replies curtly. “Yours is an ice pick.”

By Neil Genzlinger

Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade's suicide has caused a lot of buzz.
Below is one sharing which resonates with me.
By Pete Teo 

Lots of people suffer from depression. I used to suffer from it. Although it last descended on me decades ago, I still feel it in the back of my head, seeping out in the shadows of my work. It’s not an easy thing to understand, but I can try to tell you a little more...
The overriding mental condition of someone in a severe depressed state is one of utter futility. Nothing is worth it. Nothing has meaning. There is no point in anything. You may escape for a moment, but the dark mist is all around. Until it decides to lift, nothing matters.
It isn’t the same as sadness. It isn’t being fearful. It’s the darkest, loneliest nothing. When it’s especially bad, there is no hope. That’s when you think of ending it. Everyone who’s been in that place has thought of suicide. Everyone. Some take action. Most pull back.
I got it when I was a child. It came regularly till my late 20’s. It affected my studies, social life, and worldview. I studied nothing but religion for a few years thinking it might help. Not for me. Writing did help. So did reading, or watching films. But not always.
I soon learned how to use it in my art. I tried to make beauty out of it. Later, I took it on stage as a performing singer songwriter. A seasoned pro saw me play live and said “You go to that empty place when onstage. Let me save your life. Please don’t. Learn to act when you play.”
He did save my life. Touring is a series of stage, audience, and hotel rooms - repeat. If you did what I did, which was to play personal songs honestly and left nothing behind, it’s dangerous. The audience might find communion, you might even feel connected for a while, but you eventually returned to the hotel room alone. It’s dangerous.
You see, as an artist you feel duty-bound to give it all. But having emptied out you are left with that same hole in your heart. Who will fill it? The audience? It’s not easy to admit this, but even the most adoring fans are just strangers in the crowd. That’s the truth.
So now you know why many artists kill themselves. It’s not about material success. When amplified by celebrity, that futility and loneliness at the core of all depressives becomes magnified. Then one night the mist descends. You might feel even the best in you is futile. That’s when you kick the stool.
It is human to feel the loss of an icon. #AnthonyBourdain stood for so much good in this world. Yet don’t forget that depression afflicts more people than you think. It is literally all around you. Do listen to them too. Just listen. Don’t judge. Ordinary stories are worth just as much.
I have a notion that people who suffer from depression recognise each other instinctively. I find them in a line of another’s tweet, a song being played, or a look in the eyes. The night people. They are some of the most interesting people I know. Certainly some of the best.
And should you be one of the night people, know that there are many like you. Just as I found solace in creativity, you can too, even if in just talking to a friend. There is help all around. The world is filled with good people too. It is not all meaningless.

Keep walking.
By Pete Teo

Taken entirely from www.bbc.com/news/

Kayley Olsson, a 20-year-old student hairdresser in Waterloo, Iowa, posted on Facebook on Tuesday about a girl who came into her salon with densely matted and tangled hair.

"Today I had one of the hardest experiences - I had a 16-year-girl come in who has been dealing with severe depression for a few years now," Kayley wrote in the post, which has been shared over 55,000 times.

The teen had explained to Kayley she "felt so down and so worthless she couldn't even brush her hair, she only got up to use the restroom."

The teenager had a school photograph scheduled and she asked the salon to cut off all her hair because she couldn't face the pain of combing out the matted knots and tangles.

But Kayley and her colleague Mariah Wenger, who are both beauty therapy students, refused to shear the teen's waist-length hair.

"Cutting her hair was absolutely not a option for me.

"I knew right then and there that we had to keep as much hair as possible," Kayley told the BBC.

"Shaving was a last resort and something none of us going in wanted to do," Mariah added.

"It took a lot of encouraging words, reassurance, and just plain conversation to take her mind off of the pain involved in removing the matting and to boost her self esteem and confidence.

"I was able to very closely relate to her mental health problems and the daily struggle that comes with them, due to my struggles with postpartum depression and anxiety," explained Mariah, who has two children.

"I understood how it felt to feel worthless - a child should never feel like that.

"I knew I had to help her, just like people helped me. We all deserve to feel beautiful," Kayley said.

After detangling it as far as shoulder height, Kayley and Mariah cut and shaped the teenager's hair.

"Let's just say we both let out tears of joy!

"Her last words to me were, 'I will actually smile for my schools pictures today, you made me feel like me again,'" Kayley explained.The post has received nearly 60,000 comments (at time of writing), including women relating their own experiences of mental health problems.

"It's happened to me - I suffer with bipolar and had an episode and didn't brush my hair or take care of myself - just remember beautiful girl you're not on your own," wrote Sarah-Lee on Facebook.

"I work with mental health and good for you. I see this daily it's sad but so true," said Renay St Amand.

"I've been in this position and I can't tell you how comforting and important it is for a hairdresser to be kind and understanding. I wasn't judged either and got my hair back to being beautiful," wrote Claire McDonald.

"I have been struggling with my depression and suicidal thoughts. It's hard to even get out of bed but I try to fight everything negative. Plus you are beautiful and you are worth something I promise," another woman posted.

"I'm so glad there are people out there who understand mental illness... So a big thank you to you for putting your whole heart into this lil lady," wrote Angelbear Read.

Others described how beauty and grooming can be important to people experiencing depression.

"You are awesome to recognize this as a mental issue and also for giving her back her dignity by fixing her hair issues," wrote Patricia Barron-Gondeiro.

By BBC UGC Hub & Social news

About two weeks ago, after months of self-imposed home imprisonment; I went out.
I went window shopping in a big bookstore.
I heard a man speaking very loudly.
"You know how many people in Malaysia uses a dictionary?"
When the other sentences seemed incoherent, I turned to look for the source of this noise.

It was a tall Asian man in his 40s.
He was talking to himself.
No one was with him.

My heart ached.
Oh no.
Another one.
Another one of us.
He looked quite well physically, handsome even.
If not for his behaviour, and his odd choice of clothes; he'd passed as just another ordinary dude next door.

I dare not look at him.
I was scared.

It could have been me.
It still could...
It really could.

My shame twisted my heart as I stole another glance of him.
Will he be ok?
Will I be ok?
Will we be ok?

I watched The Avengers : Infinity War
Twice.
It was really good.

I gush each time Ironman transforms.
Each time.

The movie was so good that I'm backtracking to the previously screened Marvel movies, eg, Black Panther, Dr Strange, Winter Soldier etc.

Perhaps I could make movie-watching as personal rewards? Little goals in life, something to look forward to?

I can't believe that after all these years, after all that has happened,
I'm back in the same dark hole.
Same.
Dark.
Hole.

"A place so bad where I thought I must have completed that "quota" in life and I won't have to go through it again.
A very dark place where it was a miracle that I have survived/escaped before.
Now that I'm back in that place.... everything in me is either breaking down, giving up or self-destructing...I'm just so tired....
Just so tired of this same misery"

I tried so hard to paddle myself out of this but now find myself back at the very same place.
Only older.
I am aging and much of my youth was spent on paddling in aimless circles.

One good thing about being deep in my dark corner, my sanity is somewhat more stable.
This is when the full blast of reality hits me.
All the things that have happened.
All the things that I have said and done.
A personality that isn't really me and yet it was me.

How I cower in shame.
And this cycle will happen again.
In the still dark night, the icy reality pierces through my shivering thoughts,
" I am unwell. I will be unstable again.
I can't even depend on myself, my own mind.
I am crazy.                     C.R.A.Z.Y.
I am that person whom others stay away from ."

I.
Can't.

The news of Dolores O'Riordan's death saddens me deeply.
First Chester Benington and now her?
The two singers whose voice resonated with me since I was in my teens.

I'm listening to The Cranberries now.
I'm transported back to the time when I was just 15 and was listening to these songs over and again in my walkman.

D@mn.

I had a FB push notification about ShW's latest profile photo.
She's in her wedding dress ???!!!???
The last time we met was in July.
She didn't even mention that she was seeing someone.
We spoke on the phone in August, and that was it.

I didn't make any attempt to contact her, nor she I.
I've not been in a good shape for the past couple of months, so I thought it's best to just let the sleeping dogs lie.

This sudden news reminded me of my other comrade friend (also suffering from mental illness) who also got married very abruptly.
Both of them share another disturbing similarity, absence of their family's blessing and cloud of lies.

As I was about to get really judgemental of their choices, I realised something.
I did something similar too.
I too, had desperately wanted change for myself, where I had packed and left for Penang, a choice which I live to regret till now.

Upon some self-reflection and reverie, I began to take their point of view on this matter.
I wish ShW all the best.
__________________________________________________________________

On a different note,
Only now, I realised that the period 2010-2014 was the best period of my life, since having this illness.
Funny, I honestly didn't realised that back then.
Back in 2010 - 2014, I thought I needed to make a change for myself, as I was unhappy.
But now, every now and then FB will send reminders of old posts in my page and I will look at it with deep sadness and regret.
"I was happy and I actually didn't realised it".
"I wasn't contented, and I never realised that the shit could be worse, as they are now".

I guess everything happens for a reason.
Even shit.

One More Light by Linkin Park

Should've stayed,
were there signs, I ignored?
Can I help you, not to hurt, anymore?
We saw brilliance, when the world, was asleep
 There are things that we can have, but can't keep
 [Chorus]
If they say
Who cares if one more light goes out?
 In the sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when someone's time runs out? If a moment is all we are
Or quicker, quicker
Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well I do
 [Verse 2 ]
The reminders, pull the floor from your feet
 In the kitchen, one more chair than you need,
 oh And you're angry, and you should be, it's not fair
 Just 'cause you can't see it, doesn't mean it, isn't there