Wednesday 31 December 2008

New Year Resolution 2009

New Year Resolution 2009:

Start living again.

No more negative attitudes towards life.

My life cannot possibly be any worse than 2008. 2008 was a shit year for me, health wise and career wise.
I had to use a walking stick permanently, lost my job, took out ill health retirement.

My only blessing was being able to change fields and start a PhD, but that turned out to be a complete disaster as well.

I am not able to do it. My dreams of being a Dr and an acaedemic is floating far behind me. I lack the energy, the eyes and the determination.
Yes, I am going blind. Thanks to my MS, my optic nerves are damaged. Words are floaty when I read and I can't focus.

I was given a Kurt Cobain book for Christmas. Loved it. I used to love Nirvana. A copy of a hand written note in the book: "I hate myself and I want to die." reflected how I feel. I cried. I want to die but I am too much of a wimp to do it myself.
This is my depression talking, I know this much. But when am I able to snap out of this black hole?

I promised my boyfriend that I will snap out of it. I am not the same girl he met me two years ago. I was an easy go lucky girl, bubbly and fun. I want to be like her again. It pains me that I am so sad now. And I know it hurts my boyfriend too, because there is nothing he can do. He tries, but it's hard for him. I am so thankful that I have him. He keeps me on the straight and narrow, otherwise I am certain that my black hole would be much bigger.

So, 2009, I will try my damn hardest to be happy.

No promises though....

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Thursday 25 December 2008

All I want for Christmas...

I hate Christmas.

Coming from an Asian background, we never really celebrated Christmas when I was a kid. And as I grew up and started not going back to Hong Kong for the holidays, I would spend Christmas with my friends' families, depending on who wouldn't mind being intruded that Christmas. Don't get me wrong, I was always made very welcome and loved, and I always had a great time. But then you always had that niggling feeling in your mind thinking that you didn't really belong there because you are not family.

This year, I chose not to celebrate it at all and be a complete bahumbug. I got numerous cards still though and presents from my boyfriend and one from his parents, which was nice. I hope they are having a lovely time. I chose not to go up to his parents' with him. I just wanted some time on my own. My parents are with my brother and his wife. I was half tempted to go to his yesterday, but a bad fall and twisted ankle made my mind up. I am alone, on Christmas day, with a bloody sore ankle.

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Saturday 20 December 2008

Little Miss Whoops

I always wondered why Mr Bump was my favourite Mr Men character when I was growing up. Now I know. What bloody irony and I can honestly say that I fit the female equivalent, Little Miss Whoops, pretty perfectly.

After numerous falls, some big and many small, two broken front teeth, bruises, scars and bruised ego, I finally realised that I can't fight this anymore. I must learn to live and embrace what I have. The dreaded two words: multiple sclerosis. Or can I...?

I had a massive argument with my mum this evening at dinner. Both of us shouted, cried and shouted some more. My poor dad was stuck in the middle, as always.
Mum and I are two peas in a pod, both stubborn as hell. She asked me why I am in a bad mood all the time, don't listen to her and that we are not close. Out of frustration I simply asked what she had expected when she sent me to boarding school when I was ten and had to grow up quickly and fend for myself all these years and be completely independent. She surely can't expect me to need her now when I hadn't needed her for the last 20 years?
I think this broke her heart. She called me ungrateful. I tried to explain to her that I wasn't ungrateful and that sending me to school in the UK was the best thing they could have done for me. She can't expect me to be her little girl anymore. I had grown up. I am ill and she can't fix that.
But god does she try. She prays to every chinese god possible, cooks me funky chinese food that she thinks may help, fusses over me like there's no tomorrow. She cries at every cut and bruise that I get, but little does she know that her fussing frustrates me, makes me feel useless and needy. And her crying makes me feel doubly worse. Because she can't fix me and I can't fix that. Now I don't tell my parents anything, especially not my mum. And she wonders why we are not close....
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