Archive for the ‘Mental Mutilation’ Category

Whataya want me to say?

July 22nd, 2011 by Scarlett Ting

I find it almost embarrassing to be such a downer on a lovely day.

I should be dedicating my energy to garner votes for Jennifer and Ryan who are fabulous people, but at the same time, I can’t find enough energy to even will myself to. I owe them that.

You let me down. But the most hurtful of all, is to know that I let you down. Alas, not from you.

I would like to talk candidly about it.

I would like to pour out every molecule of my thoughts into this space, but suddenly, the jovial manner I had recounted the seconds that passed in the dramatic moments last night had abandoned me to deal with the raw brutality of it all.

You know, sometimes I think I write about my darkest thoughts and air the dirty laundry despite raised brows just so that as I write, it is as if I am narrating about someone else’s story, anyone else’s but mine, as if the reality doesn’t belong to me.

Make belief. You know. Though sometimes people do doubt the authenticity of the drama episodes… I do wish all these are just a figment of my imagination.

I still feel surreal, and it hasn’t really sunk in completely yet I guess, good that I still have last defense up, that I feel some kind of numbness, but the laughs and animated illustrations had ceased.

I am still stubbornly refusing any attempts to break my last line of defense.

I wish I could say the last time someone hurt me, during that difficult period of time, it hurts more.

I actually couldn’t.

I don’t judge you. I am just disappointed, and feel a great sense of betrayal of the lies you woven.

Everybody could. But you. I hung on to that hope.

I tried. Oh God, I tried so hard. When one reason failed me and wavered my determination to make everything work, you just destroyed the other half of the reason that kept me going.

The only thing I could muster was that deadly coldness. I think you killed that part of me enough to remind myself not to feel vulnerable towards anyone, anymore.

Well, besides Minibean that is.

And the last defense is down.

I really tried. I really, really tried. I have done all I could to make you guys validate my existence, I have tried so hard to stay strong. I have tried so hard to stubbornly flogging the dead horse.

I tried so hard not to break down, but as I am writing now, maybe the release I need is here to help, maybe because there is no real person in the world I can or want to turn to, and I can only cry out my desperate plea in this space, before returning to my reality as if it never happened.

If it were someone, or someone else, I don’t think it will shatter me as much. But suddenly, this fear of being utterly alone in that darkness scares me.

It didn’t have to be this way.

I tried so hard. I tried so hard you know. Don’t you guys see?

Don’t you see?

Do I even mean anything to people I truly love and care about? I have stopped finding out the answers cos I was afraid of the rejection and the hard truth slam in my face.

Now, I got the ultimate answer from you.

I know I will be okay.

This pain, like all others, shall pass, too.

I am lost. Only for a while, I know.

Posted in Life of a Drama Mama, Mental Mutilation | 2 Comments »

And I pray…

March 9th, 2011 by Scarlett Ting

After a long, unintentional hiatus, I had thought it would be filled with something less sombre, and one that would be filled with joy.

And the half-serious whines about the woes of turning thirty.

Yes, from in my early 20s, I have reached the dreadful 30s, and hoping I have no need to slow down.

It has only been 2 days.

And then the weight came crashing down.

It was as innocuous as it could get.

As I came home from grocery shopping, and finished getting the little mite into the showers, Dad came home as I was blow drying Minibean’s hair.

I then tended to the laundry as he had his showers, and getting ready to head out for a dinner at Bukit Timah.

Just as I left Minibean in the room alone by herself to catch up on some cartoons as I busied myself at the washing machine, Dad came up and made a casual conversation.

It was the casual-est of tone, and nothing prepared me for the fear I felt overwhelming me, slowly but surely.

Heck, I didn’t even feel much, and was cool and calm. But as he headed out of the door, the panic consumed me, mercilessly.

He said he wasn’t feeling well today, and he mentioned it like it was the most natural of things to experience, and without any hint of emotions.

He was driving, he said, and suddenly, he felt a spasm in his hand, and it clenched up, and he couldn’t fight the feeling. He wanted to speak, he couldn’t. The only thing he felt was his tongue froze up.

He got really dizzy, so he had to stop his car while driving and let his friend took over. It felt as if his mind was clouded for the few seconds and he blanked out.

I just nodded and said, “oh okay.” That was all I could manage, and logically said he should head to the doctors immediately.

He said he would check in with his doctor tomorrow, and his recent medical tests were all cleared.

He said, it might be an early symptoms and sign… that he probably might get a stroke.

I agreed. I mean, I am not in that much of a denial. And it was in the initial seconds he told me, there was a lag somewhere.

It sounds like TIA.

He said it was in the morning. He was in a rush and he was panicking in the midst of all that rush. Maybe. He said. But there are so many other maybes out there, and not all of them are positive.  He then said he felt better by noon. He then said he would head out for his dinner appointment, while I suggested he rest at home. Nothing slows him down, so not even this could do so.

It wasn’t the first time. He had it once last year, but it was less severe than this, he mentioned mildly. I didn’t even know.

I told him that he could probably go to the doctors tonight rather than tomorrow, and he thought there wasn’t much difference.

He then turned to leave. “No lah, just thought let you know only,” he quipped, as if it was just one of those casual conversations which don’t usually hold any weight.

For all I know, this is just him, the usual strong him, the hero in my eyes. But I cannot help but think it is also him not wanting to worry me, and trying to downplay it all and sucking it all up himself.

All I could say was, if he doesn’t feel well, call me, and that’s how I went back to my shell and tried dealing with it like any 30 year-old should.

Rationally, coolly, and calmly.

Then I couldn’t take it anymore. I just feel so scared. So afraid. I can hardly breathe.

I prayed.

I begged.

I am pretty much in a mess. I asked Minibean to pray with me. And as I type this, I am just pretty tangled up and almost breaking down.

So now, may I request, may I ask, and may I beg for all the prayers I can gather from all of you reading this, that, I pray for good health, and longevity for my Dad, so that he could be there for Minibean as she blossoms, like he was there for me.

I love my Dad very much, and I cannot bear to think anything untoward happen to him.

I wish I am just being the usual worrier, and am being paranoid.

So please, God, if You hear me, I know You do. Please. I beg You.

Posted in Intimates, Mental Mutilation | 1 Comment »

The unspeakable, the unthinkable

February 16th, 2011 by Scarlett Ting

It came out of nowhere.

She seemed so hurt when she whimpered… “Mummy.. why Gonggong don’t love Popo?”

I explained in the way I best possibly can, without letting the urge to cry overwhelming me. I guess in a way, it was reminding me of the excuses I used to conjure up myself, just so I can cope with the hostility they have towards each other intermittently.

I don’t remember the last time I cried in front of Minibean, cos I know how much of a blabbermouth she is and I don’t want the entire world to know what a marshmellow I can be.

The last time.. I think it was July 2008.

It’s funny how with a child, you can face your greatest fear with so much gusto (bless you, adrenaline and pride) that you will even forget to faint even a flying cockroach take flight in your way (or whatever your greatest fear is).

After so many years, I am still pretty fearful. She recovered pretty well, but sadly, I don’t think I ever recovered.

The next 48 hours was a series of panic attacks and random burst-out-crying spells which all seemed like a distant dream now.

It is like when things get better and you wanna open your heart, you just find more reasons to retreat into a world that holds only one person, and it doesn’t even have any spare room for Minibean, because it was the only space you feel safe and you’re too afraid to come out.

Deja vu? How you seemed to be transported through time.. and you feel like a 4 year-old going through it again.

You know, haha, I think there’s a reason why my baby pillow is still with me after 30 years. Ahem. Long service award huh?

That was the only thing I could turn to.

***

Minibean, “I tell you a secret.”

“I hit my friend in school today.”

Why did you do it?!

“Because I want to.”

-Speechless-

“Why do babies cry when you hit them?” she asked inquisitively.

Maybe she is such a strong and stubborn character that she had expected the world to be like her.

I could barely find the words within me to give the usual mother-talk, questions and answers, feelings and evaluating (so boring I shall spare you guys the details, though it was also quite a painful, heartbreaking session for me to know my Minibean is terrorising other kiddos.. could it be my fault?) before she told me how she didn’t like it when she hit her friend, and that it didn’t feel nice to hurt someone.

I can’t help but think it is all my fault.

Sheesh. To think I thought I am ready to write this, but maybe I am not afterall.

Posted in Mental Mutilation, Minibeanism | 1 Comment »

Time comes to a standstill

February 8th, 2011 by Scarlett Ting

I don’t remember feeling this afraid in a long, long time.

Because it hadn’t happened since half my lifetime ago.

And it couldn’t be slept off.

It feels slightly strange, to have this anxiety blocked off by a natural mechanism, and what’s left is this buzz of calmness, and I can’t let anything out.

Even if I want to.

The strange thing is, when today’s reality sobers you up, you are lost. You realise your energy is so shaved that you might not have enough to deal with the rejection you set yourself up for.

Posted in Mental Mutilation | 2 Comments »

The saddest story

June 3rd, 2009 by admin

This really got to be the saddest story I have ever heard. To me.

Ever read something that gives that squeeze to your heart and makes you tear uncontrollably, and you have to take a deep breath in just to teach your body how to breathe again?

The parents (A brit and his Japanese wife)  jumped off the cliff and they found the body of their 5 year-old son, Sam, in a rucksack the father carried. Before the details came out, they were promptly accused by the netizens for being evil parents, cos they should have never selfishly brought Sam along with them.

What it masked, was a tragic, tragic story.

This was the life they had built for him.

Some questioned why, some could only imagine the devastation and pain.

And the pictures of Sam, just make reading the article almost impossible.

Rest in peace Neil, Kazumi and Sam. I hope you guys are reunited now.

Posted in Mental Mutilation | 7 Comments »

Useless words

May 16th, 2009 by admin

Sometimes, some people just don’t know how to stop.

I find it ridiculous that a Friday evening which I was indulging in my nap, that my peace would be so quickly disrupted into a night of drama I wish to be no part of.

Why? Someone wanna be hero.

Why? Someone thinks he is doing the best for me.

And on a day when I decided not to respond to him anymore.

Which is fucking ridiculous cos when I told him how his messages are a mockery and a terrible reminder which hurt greatly, and I BEGGED him to stop because it is excruciating to see those messages… he doesn’t have the decency to leave me alone.

And now, he is telling someone else to do so, simply because…. I think he just doesn’t want more truth to be out, but saying how he doesn’t want me to be hurt (don’t be a fuckwit, what is hurting is you don’t seem to think you are in the wrong, and everything is “nothing” to you, and you think everything can be buried just by “nothing”? And the way you justify yourself, the way you twist your words over and over again to downplay the severity of your wrongdoings and lies, and the extent you lied…. what is hurting is what you did and sometimes, still doing, which of course, you thinking so highly of yourself now, you don’t seem to see), seems to be making him the “holy” and “noble” person he wanna be despite his irritating, annoying, fucking high-horse matter-of-factly tone which I want to hear none of.

I called him to confront him to tell him he is in no position to do that, especially when he himself refused to listen to it, saying “You know I can’t do that, sweets” when I asked him to stop messaging those “I love you, and I will change and do anything to make things work/I want you and only you and you are the only person who mean everything to me/You are my life(which I replied, “Seeing how you screw your life up, I wish to be no part of it”)/Give me a chance, if we can get through this, we can get through anything….” and other bullshit, which honestly, stinks, and stings.

All of the above are painful reminders, and are the most hurtful of all, which he refused to listen, and accept. Because essentially, it is what he wants that matters, isn’t it? No matter how much I told him, express to him how tormenting those words are, he just doesn’t listen, cos my feelings are easily disregarded, and really don’t matter anyway. Cos most importantly is him getting what he wants.

Useless scum, dare to do, then face your consequences and accept it like a fucking man, not try to appeal against it and change it.

He kept on doing it, even when I asked him to shut up by hitting/screaming/hanging up/begging/crying (fuck. I finally succumbed to tears).. because he now holy already what(can still ask me “Do you want to pray with me sweets?” Poooooooooooi!).

Oh, of course, he changes from “Okay, you want me to stay away, I will go then” like it doesn’t matter, to a sudden bawling baby kneeling on the floor hugging my legs as he pleaded, to “I have already been honest and not lying.. what you want me to do?” to I don’t think I was totally wrong to someone with sudden rage “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT NOW?!”.. to someone else, to another one else..

So yeah, I guess that’s what he meant by changing.

But you know, I am glad, it pushes me further into a corner that I know I am more turned off, and disgusted than ever, especially with his holier than thou tone.

And finally, I gave an ultimatum enough for him to back off.

Forgiveness? I thought I could, you know, at least forgive and just move on to have a better, and greater life… but after these 2 days?

You don’t see every, single word from you is mockery.

The more you have killed me off for good, and I will not want to forgive. Even if you change and be as holy as the Pope or whoever for all I care. Because the memories you have left me with are those of you being a complete someone-I-do-not-want-in-my-life, and the sperm donor of Minibean whom she doesn’t deserve to have ties to, will be one not only you can’t erase, but one you just kept aggravating everyday.

You have dug deeper into the wound, tearing into the bloody tissues, and done more damages than you could ever know. And you don’t want to stop, even when you know you should.

Why not just bring a knife over one day and plunge it into my chest, pull it out, and drive it into me over and over again until you get your thrill?

Because seriously, what you have done, and what you are still doing, is no different from that.

Stay away.

I mean what I promised.

And I will do whatever I can, to make sure you stay away, for good.

I am prepared to go to the extreme, and you know it.

Posted in Mental Mutilation | 2 Comments »

Rage

April 28th, 2009 by admin

I find myself wanting to become who he says I am.

This is a scum with no remorse.

It was a circus.

He says, therefore I am.

I just want to be angry, very angry.

At least today, the physical pain is taking over.

Posted in Mental Mutilation | 12 Comments »

Dead but breathing

April 16th, 2009 by admin

Now that I have some peace here, yet I don’t know where to start.

Coincidence is such funny thing, like how it manipulates fate with utter brilliancy, and twists the knife into the spot where it hurts most. It can be the utter angel yet the utter demon which acts as a perfect alibi and excuse for those who get away.

Like, how I was threatened last night with legal actions. How my family was threatened to be came after, when it wasn’t an act of spite, but really, an act of helplessness.

Minibean didn’t return with my parents last night.

And I have never heard my dad using the word “dulan” but I sure did today.

I listened with great detachment and absolute numbness that I didn’t react. Maybe I already did.

Things are frosty back home, and they didn’t head out.

And then the bombshell was dropped when I pressed for a date for Minibean to come back.

“I am heading for Guangzhou tomorrow,” he said.

Oh.

And I know it will just add on to the long list of things happening, with the remote possibility of Minibean to be in Singapore this weekend, for her class, for dinner.

It doesn’t rain on my parade, it pours, it thunders, it just… have all the elements of catastrophic nature.

I don’t want to be found.

And suddenly, all the bridges she had mended, were all left broken and unfixed.

I am just tired. To be blinded of all the mastery of deceit and all.

I just wanna feel safe, somewhere, and feel like an absolute baby.

I am not sure how long more I can go on, I really don’t, anymore.

Posted in Mental Mutilation | No Comments »

In hiding

April 16th, 2009 by admin

I just do not want to be found.

Posted in Mental Mutilation | No Comments »

Change

February 26th, 2009 by admin

The thing about changes is… I don’t believe a person could change for the better, it can only be for the worse.

Having said that, there are also certain things that can’t be changed, no matter what.

And yet when it is time for self-preservation, we convince ourselves and others that things can indeed be changed, and the past can be the past.

Alas, neither do I believe in that.

I have been in pieces recently. My morale plunged, and self esteem scattered all over the place.

I simply don’t care. There are too many people in this world you must not give 2 hoots to should you wanna survive.

I don’t see myself picking up the pieces yet.

When a part of us dies, it doesn’t get revived.

Never.

And I cannot live on like this. Not anymore.

It takes a bit of gift to be such a failure like me, you know?

Posted in Mental Mutilation | 2 Comments »
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