Lost sheep.

The shit finally hit the fan today.

Without going into too much detail, the work situation is just plain dismal. I am tempted to ingest the suggestions that this is a personal defeat and let despair set in but I'm strangely and supernaturally at peace now, undoubtedly held up by prayers of my faithful saints.

The worse case situation is that I lose the job. But really, "bad" and "worse" are all relative terms. I will not go hungry even with less to spend. My self-esteem might take a huge hit but I need to be mindful to not let it determine my self-worth. In the past few months, I have devoted too much mental resources in battling the toxic human relationships that today, I realized for the first time that even my strengths have been diluted to a lacklustre solution that I would have cried foul at. Most of the time after some conflict, because of my conflict averse nature, I find myself having great difficulty focusing at tasks at hand. I would need time to recover from the mental assault and try to stabilize my emotions in the midst of a racing heartbeat, choking feeling in my throat, chest tightness and giddy spells. Lately, these have escalated to headaches so bad my face hurts during headache episodes. Needless to say, my appetite and sleep has been adversely affected. I dreaded going to work everyday and not being able to do my work in peace with animosity shrouding the office.

I refused to be a quitter for a few reasons:

1) I wasn't sure if it was just me. Human relations have never been my strongest suit and I wanted victory in this area. I thought maybe someday I would be impervious and still supernaturally churned out stellar results despite having no team, no colleagues and plenty of daggers flying in my direction.

2)I hoped against hope that things would get better and people would just...change. Besides, 6 months wasn't a lifetime and too early to pass a verdict.

3)I didn't want to be labelled as a weakling. I abhorred that label and didn't want to appear spoilt and weak. I didn't realize that letting go required more courage and faith than hanging on.

4)We got too comfortable with the money. I wasn't ready to forego all that. Because of my rather international portfolio, they have generously remunerated me and despite being away from home from time to time, they have placed zero limits on my phone bill so I can keep in touch with family and placed me in very decent hotels and fly with very decent airlines and I so appreciate their generosity.

5)My notice period is a grand total of 3 months. It is unlikely that a prospective employer would wait so long for me which meant that I had to go without a job. There would be a loss of income. Also, I had planned and hoped that this job would be the job that would carry me through till I have my first child, which I hoped would be in about 2 years. I didn't want to start a new career and then head off to pop a baby too soon after.

Now, I'm taking the holidays to re-think if this is really worth it. 

1)I have learnt a tremendous amount in this job and it has definitely upped my market-value especially with the international exposure. However, I have paid for it with long hours (2 weeks a month) , racked up a huge sleep debt and replaced my emotional well-being under the radar of ''uh oh''. While I do not mind the long hours as my health has generally improved after a whole year of better eating, sleeping and expensive supplements, I wonder if it is worth setting the clock back by selling them all to this job. I love the work itself but the people are pure toxic. At this rate, while I work towards planning for a family, my body might actually be set in reverse and not be ready for a baby. This way, I'm not being fair to both Isaac and my future baby (if any) because the baby would be subjected to my stress both physically and emotionally.

2)My portfolio seems to be ever-expanding while I grapple and struggle with the tasks in my EXISTING and ORIGINAL portfolio. No further remuneration offered as the company is financially in dire straits.

3)What will I do without a job? I'm plain lost. So might as well stay neck-deep in shit while I wait for directions to be spelled out in the sky for me.

3 years on

He's still sound asleep beside me,concussed from a hectic weekend.

He still wraps himself up like a springroll such that I have to forcefully tug to be covered.

I still love him.

So this is Christmas

God truly does put the solitary in  families.

Just returned from Christmas dinner with my cousins, (favorite) aunty and uncle. Words fail to express now how I feel. Am overwhelmed by the love and the whole experience of just being there. We didn't do anything spectacular. We ate, played monopoly deal and unwrapped our presents. We just got together as family.

Somewhere during the evening, I felt myself so overwhelmed by the goodness that I had to excuse myself to go to the toilet to shed some tears.

Thanks to my uncle and aunty, I have presents to unwrap, I see a model of Christian marriage and most importantly, I feel like I belong and I feel there's hope.

My childhood memories has been peppered with angst and hostility. When I got older, my relationship with my parents only deteriorated. While things are much better now, I felt like no one in my family ever caught the spirit of Christmas. They barely understood what being a family was about. Christmas often became something I dreaded because it was a sum of the year's disappointments. The disappointments oveshadowed the joy of God sending His son to earth for us, sinners. For many years, I was the only one getting and wrapping presents for every single member hoping, albeit in vain to infuse some Christmas cheer. Somewhere along that string of futile attempts, I gave up. No more cards and carefully selected presents, wrapped up the best I can. These gestures were often unappreciated and taken for granted. As their child, I was done trying to be the pillar of the family and glue. I was also done with disappointments.

Even though my brother and I had breathing living parents, my uncle and aunty were the ones who made us felt like we weren't orphans. They really cared and it really mattered to them that we showed up. Despite not feeling well and Isaac suggested I forego the christmas gathering, I insisted on showing up because I knew my attendance at that table is significant enough. My absence would disappoint and I was determined not to disappoint the people who were so instrumental in filling voids in my heart that my parents had left throughout the last 28 years.

Merry Christmas my lovelies ;)

:(

Work is so stressful I'm hiding in the toilet now.

I don't remember signing up for survivor to outwit outlast etc so what on earth am I doing?

A deferred hope

For some reason, I deviated hastily from the path I was meant to embark on.

Too many years ago, despite my less than stellar results, I managed to quality for psychology in Uni, both in Australia and Singapore. I started out wanting to do that because I just felt so much for people who don't have the capacity to help themselves. Somewhere, their spirit has died within them and really, there is no doctor in the world who can revive anything dead except a psychiatrist. Spiritual things aside, a medical physician can heal a wounded body but no one really can heal a dead spirit. Even the bible says so. If the spirit stays dead within an individual, physical death follows. Therefore, a depressed person is completely reliant on someone else to revive his/her spirit, the same way dead Lazarus was completely reliant on Jesus to raise him from the dead. The community is then able to come in to support and usher him back into the ways and habits of life. Likewise, Jesus got the community to roll away the stone for Lazarus.

Well, I terminated my studies back then because of various reasons, all of which are minute on hindsight are trivial and something I deeply regret. I never stopped reading/studying on this topic. And to this day,the Lord himself never stopped bringing the lost and broken to me. With each new hurting soul, I learn a lot more about myself, depression,the pressures of the world and the goodness of God.

In their heavily depressive states, many are unable to hear the word of God, no matter how good the news it brings. I have learnt that you must communicate it to their spirit in other ways and take charge. Never ask a depressed soul what it prefers because the power of attorney has already been muted. Not the time to play ''humble'' for sure. While I do not advocate being forceful, I try to gently tell them what to do instead. Have learnt that this is much appreciated because they feel so much more pressure when they cannot make simple decisions that they are supposed to make, like choosing what to eat for lunch. When words fail to reach the deep embers of my spirit, it takes every bit of the Holy Spirit to direct me to do things that will get to them. Sometimes, the pits where their soul reside are so dark I cannot navigate apart from the light of God. I've been there myself , trapped and alone with no way to get out so I can empathize with how scary that must feel and it gives me patience to ride out the tenacious long journey with them.

I know I don't need a degree in psychology but I wish this could be my full-time job instead. The degree will give me more legitimacy and allow me to concentrate. At the moment, resources are just so thin.

Lead me now, lead me again. How?

When the stars are aligned

Christmas feasting this year coincides with pms' eat-up-the-world mode. So yay I say.

What usually follows is food coma and indigestion which leads to strange dreams even when I'm asleep. When I wake up, I swear I'll never repeat the feat again but like a druggie, I almost always return to stuff myself silly.

Since when

So I literally bawled during the latest episode of my favouritest FBI show-Criminal minds.

Bawled my eyes out.

The clear themes of the show was about ''letting go''. It has often been ingrained in me that quitting or letting go is synonymous with being a loser or being weak. Not many will ever know that letting go takes a painful lot of courage. Letting go prematurely is not ok though. Unfortunately, it takes so much wisdom to know the difference and too often, so many get it wrong.

When do you give up a fight? When do you know the fight is not worth it anymore when once you were so convicted in the crusade. To let go is almost tantamount to admitting that perhaps you were wrong in the beginning, perhaps there are other things worth pursuing. Perhaps perhaps. And if the choice is to perservere, what do I really want to prove? That I can outlast outwit outsmart? Not everything in life is Survivor. Yes, it is a wild jungle of beasts out there but occasionally, life is kind enough to hand us a respite and we can afford to rest and recuperate from the tenacious terrain.

I just pray I know the difference.

free

I haven't felt so free in such a long time. Despite nursing a migraine, I feel great in my spirit.

Today, I laughed and worked (very little) and even though I returned home exhausted, I felt joy inexpressible. Someone must be praying for me.

During my toughest week, the Lord sent an angel to deliver specific bible verses to us even though she was in holiday in Beijing. She only saw the verse references in her spirit and had no clue what they were. To cut the long story short, it spoke exactly to us. In volumes with just a few verses. One verse only consisted of names and when Isaac looked up the meaning of the names, it formed a beautiful sentence, our message from heaven.

I am amazed and in wonder. How God knows the tiniest woe in my heart and cares. I still marvel even after 15 years as His child. May I continue to marvel everyday.

I had one of the worst pieces of news yesterday and when I relied on my own understanding, my spirit crumbled within me. In my own words, I just thought there is no way I can see it through. I was awashed anew with despair and fear. Yet, today, miraculously God gave me a peace and joy in my heart so deep. I still don't know what the outcome is but I am assured of plenty of grace and a victory at the end no matter how treacherous and difficult the journey might be. The example of two also encourages me. Jesus and my dear friend, Mei ling.

Making peace with myself and releasing the debt I owe to the past alleviated the weight on my soul too. Now I can rejoice even though it's december. Even though it's the last month of the year. I have hope and a joyful expectancy of the new year. I can let go of regrets though they happen. I cannot deny them, they are real. But I can surrender them and start afresh because of the God of second chances. And I can learn everyday how to depend on Him to see me through, though I fail many many times, He never gives up.

Thank you.

How I look like when I'm watching tv

Ok, didn't realize I can be such a clown and so focused.

On to wholeness

Hanging out with Beth and Mel today helped me to string my thoughts coherently again. It's only today that I saw that God has indeed brought me through so so much and healed me from so many wounds. Layer by layer, nothing left to fester. Maybe in time there'll be more but I marvel at his tender loving kindness and miracle healing power. And I stand assured that come what may, He will always love me and see me through.

Still a long journey ahead but I marvel at the many instances I have overcome myself by extending mercy and grace to those who have hurt me. I think I came a long way. From vindictive fury and hurt that fuels a desire to hurt further, I am finally at peace and can forgive and help even as I hurt, inconvenience myself etc. I think I almost felt Jesus smile when I do so because I finally am catching a glimpse of what it means to share in his cross.

Have your way and continue to teach me.

笑着哭最痛

Decembered dismembered my soul

Feeling less than stellar and with less than 3 weeks to the end of 2011, I am starting to feel pangs of panic arise within me threatening to erupt my well-being and blow it into pieces.

Retrospective and introspective, I am inundated with an avalanche of memories that incapacitate me. Remembering happier days, I feel older but not wiser, jaded and fatigued. Looking through some old photos also made me realize that the years have not been kind. The laugh lines around mouth seem to be getting more pronounced, yet they spell nothing but weariness and tiredness brought about more by my endless yawns than laughter. Then there's the age spots and the droopiness....the list is endless if I want to prac-crit what age has autographed on me.

How did a decade whiz by so quickly? How did I morph from a free-spirited giggly lass to what I am today? What of the girl that was remains today or has time buried her in the dusty pages of history too? Hanging out with friends from yesteryear did little to help me reclaim her back. They cannot recognize her in me anymore and wonder aloud where she has gone to. I realized this when I yelped with joy at the sight of a favourite yoghurt joint and same friend of 11+ years when...''that almost reminded me of...you''.

So who am I now and what does this spell for me for the next xx years that I'm meant to live?

December and the blues it brings

Two of my friends just got dumped by their exes.

I cannot imagine how hard it is to be dumped and much more so in december. Both were in really long term stable relationships before the other party decided they had enough and wanted out. They were also brutal in their cutting and I almost wondered if there was any love at all in the first place. How can love possibly grow from so fiery hot to icy cold in such a short span of time?

Unlike physical death, there's nothing to bury when a relationship dies. A part of your heart dies along with it and while the rest remains in smithereens scattered all over hard ground, threatening even an innocent part like your feet as you try to navigate your way out of the cesspool of pain. To top it all off, being dumped in December sucks to the core. There's the festivities and the cheer and no one will even look twice at you bleeding away.

The relationship just evaporates, with no evidence that it was ever there. As you watch the other party who left you in the dust move in with the speed of  lightning to new pastures, the sting of abandonment cuts deeper. Then there's the barrage of questions, doubts and regret. Then with the christmas carols going on at full blast just about everywhere, you wonder and wonder if anyone ever noticed you're dying inside.

I think this is my ministry. To notice the hurting and be their friend when the world chooses to not acknowledge their pain or just heartlessly move on with the spirit of cheer.

I'm privileged to be on-call when the crisis happened. And I remember how the fresh stings hurt like it was just yesterday. I remember being dumped and then dumping. So yes, I'll be there to baby sit you and you. Until you embark on new exploits and leave me behind in the dust again.

Bleeding

It feels like I'm hemorrhaging. There's an unspeakable stuffiness in my chest and a palpable pain.

Yet I can't say what or what's causing it.

I'm just tired and it seems like all cries of deliverance got stuck at the roof.

Screaming inside but can't be heard. I thirst for freedom away from this suffocating constraints.

This pain has cordoned my spirit and I can't think straight beyond it. If only I had space to let the condensation of my toxic pain out freely through the tear ducts.

I have been both safe and tethered on the precarious tight rope. Either way, it was a sojourn into an unknown destination. Now, I just want to be still and pour myself out freely. Or let myself bleed dry.

Florence and The Machine - Never let me go Lyrics On Screen (Ceremonia...

breakaway

Am setting a new quota. For regret. 

Never a firm believer of regrets but no matter how I try to veer from it, because it almost always descends into a whirlpool of self-pity, I can't.

So, instead, I'd re-adjust my damage-control settings and set it to maybe one a week. Over the course of however long it takes, I'll lower my dosage and wean myself off it.

I don't know how long it'll take to heal the fresh lacerations on my soul. Some days I yearn so much for someone to hear me out, my story..for a cathartic release. There are two impediments to it though. First, I have no such person I have access to who will listen, not judge and bring my secret to the grave. Secondly, I will not have the words to articulate the layers of events and emotions embedded so deep within me.

The clouds of grief have finally gotten so heavy and rained afresh on my soul.

But I'll dry myself, re-orientate myself and get going. I've done this before and I'll do it again. It doesn't get easier with practice but with experience, I navigate better in the darkness. 

Can't wait for the day I don't have to repeat this vicious cycle.