Journey of a Dream

The other day, I was reading about Dr Paul Brand, a physician who spent much of his life in medical research for the improvement of lives of leprosy patients. He was the first physician to explain that leprosy does its damage by destroying nerve endings, and when nerve endings are destroyed, patients lose their sensation of pain which made them susceptible to injury. While people are trying to get rid of pain, Dr Paul Brand spent millions of dollars trying to create the sensation of pain for his leprosy patients. In this, Dr Paul Brand introduced a different perception about pain and pleasure: Pain, despite its negative perceptions about it, can be a gift and may even be essential. Thus, together with Philip Yancey, he has authored a book entitled "The Gift of Pain". I will get a hold on this book when I can.

On a side note, my pilate instructor, Jezzalyn, said something that rung heavily in my head. She said while all of us were tucking our bellies with a seksa face, "If you are not in pain, you are not getting it."

 

Reflecting my life this year, 1 theme prevailed above all. If it was about anything, it was about the lack and loss of HOPE. After losing a certain someone,  I wanted to detach from my past and run away from my current geographical location, whatever that reminded my of my failures. I deleted SMSes that reminded me of that, I neglected gifts that he gave me, I threw things away in my room which I deemed taking up too much space, which included items like books, bags, clothes, etc. This throwing things act is what I call a need to de-clutter. In reality, what I need is a "mind de-clutter" to clear things up in the head and decide what I really want.  My weekends mostly consisted of "resting from burnouts" and "gathering my mind" which resulted from a "struggling career". However, these rest I got from weekends never really came out to any decisions.

Slowly but surely, I lost passion in the things that used to matter to me. My dancing session was reduced to only attending classes. As for social dancing, I could only be seen dancing once a month, if any at all. I used to visit the mall regularly and had a hard time resisting my temptation to spend, but I have cut down my mall visits to maybe just once a month simply because I was disinterested. I stopped drinking coffee at my favourite Starbucks joints. To avoid deciding what to wear to work everyday, I have lined them up in a way that I will wear them on rotation. I stopped going out on Saturday nights for any booze at all. I only caught up with friends who wanted to meet up with me and didn't get initiative with my friendships. I realize, all these were saving me a lot of money, but deep inside me, I felt hollow.

I didn't know what I could do to make me feel better, but somehow, I have developed an affinity for reading poignant stories of miraculous survivals and breakthroughs in the face of difficulties and hopelessness. Two notable ones are the stories of Liz Murray and Jaycee Lee Dugard. These stories tell me that despite whatever people go through or what kind of slumdog background people come from, somehow, with courage and persistence, and an attitude of never giving up, somehow, things will turn out fine.

Despite my failing mental health with bouts of imsomnia and depression, things turned out better than I thought. I was euphoric after receiving the letter yesterday, even though the euphoria lasted me just for a day before my mind asks the next BIG QUESTION. Do I still want the BIG MOVE now? Is there a guarantee that better life lies ahead when I take the BIG MOVE? The truth is that there is no guarantee... and it might be just another chasing after the wind. It might not be the panacea that I am looking for the gaping spiritual hole that I have.

So, I turn to books again. This time, it's a book on Christian missions. Tales of people who go into dangerous mission fields where they faced persecution and house arrests. Tales about people who give up their own comfort to meet the needs of less fortunate children caught in slavery and prostitution. As I read the book, I realize I could be fired up in my Christian faith again in the area of compassion. For too long, compassion have been known to be feeling provoking but not act inducing. I figure too that I had been to selfish to my own needs. If I focus on other people's needs, that may be the panacea to my own problems and mental war. So I will take small steps to check out what I can do.

Being lost is bad, and I hate seeing my friends lost too.. especially when they have weird beliefs like existentialism.

In Band Perry's If I Die Young, the song sounds very morbid yet so meaningful. Life is making the best at what you've got.

Ok this is the end of my Saturday night and another "gathering my mind" session.

For the third time this week, I worked late.

Monday 9.30 pm, extra 3 hours 45 minutes
Wednesday 7.55pm, extra 2 hours 10 minutes
Thursday 9.05pm, extra 3 hours 20 minutes

If I add all these up, that would make a day's work. I didn't want to do it, I just had to because there 20 items in my to - do list, and I know if I don't strike up items in the list, new things would just come in everyday. Mind you, these 20++ items are not my routine work to get "ester" going, they are "extra" work that has accumulated over the past few months, and if I don't do it right away, they just get harder to do.

All kinds of negative thoughts conjure up in my mind everyday, but with the additional hours when I am physically tired, I start to lose my mind.

|Why am I doing all these extra hours beyond my working hours? Is my pay RM5k a month? Am I being paid overtime? Do I get extra bonus?

All I get is a mean boss who doesn't appreciate me at all. All I get is crappy appraisal. All I get is being bullied by her and her accomplice. All I get is frequent burn out episodes and cases of insomnia which are happening more frequently these days. I can't even go gym, cell group, earn extra income.. It really eats into my personal time but if I don't do it, people will complain that I am incompetent...

Do they really know how much I am handling? Plant 1 is running at bullet train speed. Plant 2 is picking up. This year, the quantity of product is almost twice of last year. Which means, twice product forms, twice footnote, twice outgoing BLC, twice lab technician problems, more customer complaints... Besides this, I still have to develop methods, answer Sales and Marketing Queries, answer Technical Service queries, source for external lab services as there are ever more new testing requirements from customers, help R&D team with their queries, help other site labs to do ad hoc testing. Just last week, no brainer boss added 3 additional instruments into my lap. When I asked her, the reason that she gave me is because I am PIC for "ester" and so happen these few instruments fall under "ester".

People say, "If you are not happy, don't complain. Just tender the letter." True, in fact, I have prepared the letter which is sitting in my personal folder. But how I am gonna go through the remaining 3 months when every single day is hellish...

Music has a way to connect the soul. Isn't is true that some songs just remind you of certain someone or certain season in your life? Secondhand Serenade's Fall For You reminds me about this guy from another church that I had a crush on when I just came out working. Shakira's Hips Don't Lie reminds me of Joe cos the club played this song during the only time we went to Poppy's together. I'll Missing You and How Do I Live Without You remind me of high school days. Of course, Faye Wong's －执迷不悔 and Broken Hearted Women remind me of my primary school days. I was a huge Faye Wong's fan!

One of those earlier days after dance practice while listening to the female version of When You Say Nothing At All in his car, I secretly wished that he would serenade me with this song with his soulful voice. From that day onward, I imagine myself walking down the aisle with him. On our wedding dinner, we would perform our Salsa - Bachata first dance. Well, of course, that never took place.

Apart from that song, a song that immediately connected with my pain was The Band Perry's If I Die Young. When the thing just happened, when I could not accept it yet, this song played on the radio on the way home after work, streams of tears flowed in a gush. It wasn't just the meaningful lyrics of how, "Funny, when you're dead people start listening." It was that song just connected with my feelings. Listening to this song, it reminded of how EXACTLY I felt at that time... the need to run away from my pain. I remember sitting in front of my laptop looking for migration opportunities.

Because... I could not deal with my pain. I could not deal with the realization that I would never drink another glass of his protein drink. The realization that we would never again walk in the streets of Bangsar for lunch. The realization that we would never drive to the laundry shop ever again pick up his laundry. I would never again step foot into True Fitness Hartamas to wait for him to finish his gym session. That I would never again see him pack his clothes into the tiny luggage he uses for his frequent travels. The realization that we would never again sit together on his yoga mat. The realization that I would never again sit on his balcony enjoying the view of the new Istana Negara. It was the last of the last, not like the previous times when we had arguments but made it up after that.

I wanted to run away so much.. so in conclusion, this song just reminded the sole thing I wanted to do to get away from my pain which is to run away. So many months on, I haven't really done much for the thing I promised myself to do. Despite this song reminding me of pain, it also reminds me of my sole mission and help me to be focused to achieve it.

It's kinda ironic how holidays can make one feel tired when the original idea of a trip is to rejuvenate oneself. The more holidays I went, the more tired I became. I spent many hours pre - trip researching information with regards to the trips.. going to embassy to get visa done. Then I also spent many hours working for money to go on those trips. During the trips, I get exhausted because I maximize every possible hour when I am at the foreign country. Even during flights, I would read up more information, in case there is anything that I might have missed out. Coming back, I could only afford a few hours rest because the next day I had to go to work. So many times, I was drained up physically and emotionally. The trips were simply too demanding and too much to sacrifice for.

At some point in life, I believed that my existence on earth was to travel around the world. Today, that belief seems too shallow to me. Since I don't quite like work, travel is the nemesis of it and of late, I am not ashamed to admit it. Like duh... who does?

That is just the half truth.. The whole truth is that "I don't like my work at this moment, there had been better times, and there will certainly be times in the future I will put in my best... It's just that, it just kinda suck right now."

Which means, I believe I am capable, because I was capable in the past, I am sure I can repeat those feats again. I can spend hours and hours pouring into work with enthusiasm and passion, and money, reward and appreciation are the by - products of my efforts and passion.

Sure, I love to travel. Sure, I love to dance. Sure I love Oreo. Sure I love to go to the gym.. these are also passions inseparable of who I am. But work provides me with some sort of satisfaction and defines my self - worth. So at the end of the day, I still need to work which means, I am not really the housewife material.

Having said that, it does not mean that I agree to the idea of househusbands. I somehow don't see myself taking the active role of breadwinner by waking up to work every morning, while my hubby prepares breakfast, gets ready the dinner, babysit the kids and tuck them to bed and by the time I reach home, they are already asleep.

So I suppose, balance is the keyword here.

I can't sleep without writing this post. About a month and a half ago, I bought this book while shopping at Chitta Mall at Ara Damansara. Some time ago, I read Robert Kiyosaki's Rich Dad Poor Dad, which was equally as expounding, but at that time my working life has just begun, so I did not give much of a thought.

However, this time round, I chewed on this book as if it has life's treasures in it. I started reading this book less than a month ago, but I have yet to finished because I was taking my time to note down all the important points which are... too important to miss.

To some, the subject of financial freedom seem unattainable and far fetched. It was exactly the reason that after I read Rich Dad Poor Dad, I did nothing much about it. Actually, over the past 2 years, I did put some actions like attending seminars to gain some financial education, but other than that, I didn't actually start investing. The reason? I have no bucks for investment.

But now, I have a renewed zeal. I understand now that before I can earn big bucks, I need to have the millionaire mindset for it. In the past, I used to think that rich people are filthy, and they acquire their big bucks through their filthy ways. Today, I understand that these thoughts are stumbling blocks to whom I want to be. I also used to think that money is not important, this is also crappy.

To really understand what I mean, one has to really read the book.. I am usually a skeptic, but there's just so many truths in it.. if only one chooses to believe.

The fears I had lately had caused me anxiety. I was easily agitated, moody, restless, tensed up and at times, could not even sleep.

Firstly, it was the worry that what if my Jogja budget was blown up? I had precisely 1 million rupiah for 2 days and was worried that this might not be enough. In essence I am not that reckless, I had a buffer of 100 USD in case I needed more, or there is always credit card and use the tactic we did in Bali when money ran out. True enough, I spent precisely 1 million with my last two purchases of a batik robe for mom and kuih lapis. So I am over this fear.

Another fear that mushroomed the past few days that caused me to be weary is that my consistent student of almost a year now announced that he was stopping tuition because he wanted to study medicine. I somehow had planned to pay off PTPTN using my income from tuition, and with his announcement, my dream seem dashed. I told myself to be calm as there is a reason for everything that happens, and it is always for the better. I stayed calm and collected, and few days later my student told me he is continuing with his A Levels. So this fear has subsided too.

So, the third fear, was the fear of insecurity. Strange as it sounds, this is the first time that I do not feel secure being in PORK. If there is any weakness in PORK, it never crosses my mind that it is insecurity. But after my appraisal, I somewhat feels that this is all a conspiracy. And fear begins to grip me. Nobody really believe that I can do what I said I will do. But then again, when nobody believes in you, the least you can do for yourself is to believe in yourself.