A cheesy post..

This might be a cheesy post. But it’s something i’ve felt over the past couple of years.

Whenever i watch a lovey dovey movie.. or whenever i go to a wedding.. i get this feeling. This bad bad gut feeling.. that i’m destined to be alone. That i’m not good enough. That my not being pretty or not being good enough is the reason why i am still single. It just physically pains me sometimes. Literally.. physically pains me. I dunno why. But it does.

I know i’m not an old maid, but i’m 25. I’ve been in love once. Two years or so ago. And he was the only guy i knew ever. Since then.. it’s been nothing. I did go on dates. Disappointing ones. I end up coming home and crying coz it went that bad. But then there are other times i come home crying.. That’s when someone is sweet to me, and i know i can’t have him. I know i can never have him. I am never satisfied am i? Someone not being interested hurts, and someone being sweet to me hurts. Such a wuss i am.

But that’s not the thing. When i look into the mirror, i see a nobody. I mean, yes it’s great that now i finally have a job doing what i’ve always wanted. But.. i’ve also wanted to be with someone. To belong. To be loved. I feel like even that’s selfish to ask. Greedy of me to ask. Whenever someone gives me a ride home or something.. i make sure i thank the person. Whenever someone does me a favor.. i thank the person. Not coz i am trying to be grateful or anything… i mean i am. But it’s mainly coz i don’t feel like im good enough to be done that favor, or given that ride.  I see a nobody.. looking at that mirror.

I know it’s a lot of complaining… but i get tired of seeing my friends get into relationships. Committing to each other. Getting married. Having kids. Having another kid. I get tired of realizing its a life i cant have. I keep thinking if i was pretty or slim, someone might notice me. But im not any of those. I am not even good at talking. I freak out and sound like a moose half the time.

… what do i do?

.

Horrible Horrible dinner! …

I just finished washing a pile of dishes and scrubbing the kitchen counter. I still have the ultimate pan to wash.. but i’m just too tired tonight to do anymore. I have work in the morning, and right now it’s 1 AM. I have never been more disappointed after a dinner.

This was my treat for my friends.. on the occasion of my first salary. I knew i shouldn’t have cooked. But i was trying to economize. First mistake! My friends were so picky about the food that it makes me wanna cry. I made beef penne. And half of them turned up 2 hours later when the food was cold, and complained about it being cold. Some of them (actually just one) turned up after eating, coz he heard i was cooking penne. Apparently he can’t eat pasta. But i personally saw him eating lasagna and fettuccine just a month ago. All in all.. i’m offended. I did not spend what i could have saved for them to go into the bins. Or i did not spend hours in the kitchen, baking and cooking for them to insult my choice of cooking. Meh…

They also went far as to insult something i truly believe in. Made me cringe. I was aching to say something back to defend it. But a look from a friend told me not to start a fight. So i kept quiet. When i mentioned this later to my friend she called me a coward for not being able to say it out. The friend who gave me a look (and a finger on the lip) to shush me up!

Disappointed. Really disappointed in them. Why am i friends with these people? I actually ended up crying after they left. The evening was nothing like i hoped. Is it cause i hosted this? When my other friend hosts it, they have fun.. they laugh.. they even eat the damn pasta! (which btw, i still cook even if it is at my friend’s place!)

I need a hug right now. Thank god my stuffed chicken is beside me. I hope tomorrow (or today.. since it’s past midnight) is better. I’ll have work to distract me. Thousands of lines of code to read through and hundreds of tables in the Database i’m trying to mess with. What more can a girl dream of? 🙂

When my day starts and ends with you…

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I met a guy a long time ago. We were good friends through out the years. Lately.. i’ve been talking to him a lot. A LOT. I dunno how this happened. He was the one to push me to apply for my current job. He asked me to believe in myself. For this.. i owe him so much.

But more than that i dunno how i feel anymore. And im scared of feeling anything more. It’s scary when i wake up updating him about my schedule for the day.. and sleep while talking to him .. chat, not phone calls. He is shy.. the only thing that makes me wonder if anything can ever happen..

Did that even make sense?

Day 1 at work

What if I’m not this person? What if I’m just kidding myself?

First day in office,  I’m scared half to death.  So much of reading to do.  So much to catch up on.  So much of people to bond with.. and remembering faces. 

Why did they hire me?  My cousin told me thar they hired me coz I was the only girl.  The only girl in a section full of boys. I’m not intimidated by them.  Well.. Maybe a Lil.  But my worst worry is that .. They might go easy on me.  I wanna be treated as equal.  I don’t wanna be given preference.

The good and the bad

Let’s start with the bad. Since it was the bad that happened first anyway.

Two days ago, my sister was cooking up some prawns. I LOVE prawns. But sometime back i had a bit of my lip swelled up after eating prawns. So i decided that i can’t eat it. Again later on i accidentally ate it (mixed into some rice).. and nothing at all happened. So this day (two days ago), i thought it’s gonna be okay. How wrong was i?

First nothing happened. I rejoiced saying “I’m alive”. I was making kites with my niece and nephew. We went up on the terrace to fly them. Mid flight i felt my lungs burning up. It was the worst attack i had. I can’t remember how i managed to get downstairs to my apartment to grab my inhaler.. nor the number of puffs i took. I was scared. My nephew followed me angry, ‘coz i left so abruptly. He saw my state and rushed to his mother. Previously, i have told all of them that if i have an attack, leave me be for a while. I get irritated when people touch me, or talk. So my sisters observed me from afar, once in awhile coming into the room and checking up. My eldest sister noticed that i got hives. My face was swelled up and red. She insisted that i go to hospital. I insisted no, I hate hospitals.

Like an hour later, the asthma attack got better, but the hives were there, and it was getting worse. I hated that feeling, so i agreed to go to hospital. The doctor i showed to didn’t even look at me, ask a question, check my skin or my breathing before he started writing medication down. He didn’t bother to explain what it was even when asked. Just said to take this at this hour and that at that hour. On top of that he wasn’t sure of the medicine name, and was asking his helper if she knew. I was irritated. I wasn’t gonna take a medicine that was given by a doctor on a whim.

Anyway.. i feel much better now. No thanks to medicine. But i realized later that my attack could have been worse. Anaphylaxis was the worst thing that could have happened.. and thank god that it didn’t happen. The emergencies in this town… they suck. People have to wait in line for emergencies, to be categorized to see whats worse. If the person who sees me first doesn’t realize i really can’t breathe, i’ll have to wait for treatment.

Now for the good news. I got the job i applied for. YAYYYYY! I mean this is not just any job. This is THE job. The job i always wanted. The place i always wanted to work at. I will finally be able to show to everyone that i can do it. Coding is something i love. And i will be doing that for a career. Yayyy! 😀 Salary is awesum. People there seem friendly. Today i went and signed the contract. I start work tomorrow. I am SOO nervous.

Here’s to dreams coming true.. 🙂

The last month

It’s been a white since a posted anything. Over one and a half month i think. I’ve been depressed. Every time i thought of writing a post or anything .. i just kept asking “What’s the point?” Even when i needed to plan and make lists (which i often do).. i just kept asking that. In turn, i didn’t make lists, i didn’t write down how everything was with me, and i didn’t even manage to plan for the next hour of a day.

I dunno how that happened. But because of that, i have successfully failed in the project i was attempting and the math module. Talking about it still makes me feel uncomfertable. Seeing my transcript that day made me want to crawl up in my bed and cry the whole day. And that’s what i did. But not a whole day. For almost a week. I told no one, and i just stayed in bed.

By the time i told my immediate family, it was a week past. By the time i told my aunts (who are still relatively close people for me) it was a fortnight past i think. I told my friends about this a month later (minus my bestfriend.. she knew right away)

Since then it’s been chaos. I’ve been trying to understand what i did wrong. Everything i did was SO wrong that it’s impossible to believe that i did that in a sensible mind. But then, i doubt i did that in a sensible mind. I still recall my mentality that semester. I was all “I’ll do that after my exams”, “I’ll meet you guys after exams”, “I’ll go to this place after my exams”. To top it off my birthday fell on my study break. I did not go out, i did not enjoy myself. Everything… after exams. And after exams? Depression with the results. So that’s ONE thing i did wrong. Putting things off for after exams.

Two. I listened to people. The wrong type of people. Some of my friends, i believe, are not a good influence on me. They judged me for being who i was. I am normally someone who makes lists of things to do. I organize every day of my life. I plan things on my whiteboard. I have a system. I have to have my bed made the moment i get off it. I clean my wardrobe once a week. I dust once a week. I simply cannot sleep if my room isn’t at least swept, and my toilet clean. Yes, i cannot get into bed unless my room is clean enough. Even if in the middle of the night, i clean. If i’m going out of the house, like college or somewhere, i have to clean my room. My friends doesn’t like this about me. They said i was being too much. They made fun. And … i was naive. I actually believed it. And i tried pushing myself to see how much of not cleaning i could handle. And that made me more depressed, seeing the state of the room.

Three. I make terrible decisions. I decided to attempt my final year project alone. It’s a 120 credit project. I decided to do it ALONE. Alone isn’t allowed. There was two other teams. And, i opted to do it alone. Just coz i am .. controlling? I dunno. It was a BAD decision. BAAAD BAAAAAD! 😦

So to sum up:
1. I need to live my life. Studies and my own life CAN come simultaneously!
2. Stop listening to others. Follow my own instincts. If i like things clean, do it!
3. Learn to make better decisions. Ask the right people for advice. People with experience!

Anyway.. since then stuff have happened. Some for the best i guess. I applied for a job at the place i have always wanted to work at. And i get an answer tomorrow. I’m hoping for the best 🙂 Also, I’m attempting the project this time again. This time i got a team. A very challenging team.

All in all… i guess things happen for the best 🙂

Bad day

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^ how i feel right now…

Today is a day i never wanna re-live. I was utterly humiliated. And it was mainly my fault. I was not prepared enough. I was late, i was not ready. I was… careless. But dammnnn… i never expected it to go THAT bad.

I had my final project’s presentation today. I had 14 weeks to do it. And you know when i actually started doing it? A week ahead. I had to do so many modules this semester coz it’s my last semester (…. god.. is it my last semester anymore? Will i pass?!). Project’s are also group works. Groups of two or three. I didn’t have a team mate, whereas others did. And alone, doing a project… worst decision EVER.

If you ever decide to work on something alone.. don’t. Those guys who stay in the team and basically do nothing? They do a lot. They make you wanna prove that you can do the work by yourself far better… which MAKES you do it better. When you do it alone, you’ve no motivation to do. You’ve no one pushing you saying “Hey, have you completed this section of this?” … ugh! WHY!!! Why did i decide to do it ALOOOOONE!?

If i can go back in time, i’ll slap the me from four months ago.

Miscarriage and showing Empathy

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I don’t understand human feelings sometimes. The pain we feel… how do we express it? If we show it, we are often said to be over emotional. If we don’t show it, we are said to be heartless. So is there really a mid way?

Today, my sister had a miscarriage. She is devastated obviously. This is what people (close relatives) were saying to her or about her:

“You shouldn’t feel sad. It is just a normal thing. No big deal” 

“You should have taken better care of yourself. You worked too hard those last few days, and now the baby is gone. Think of the baby next time.”

“Don’t worry, she can try again next month or the next.”

Now, i don’t claim to be one with emotions so much… but i highly doubt this is a healthy approach. I was weird-ed out by how they responded. Some were plain rude. If i can keep her in a bubble, i would. But i know people are mean and cruel at times.. and  she will have to face the world with this news one day. And people… they will come up with some way to comment on her situation, and relate it to their pregnancy experience as close relative already have done.

People can feel upset. Be it miscarriage or any form of sad news that may come in their way. Whatever happened to just hold their hands and listen to them? Why the need to comment on things, pass out judgement and make things worse?! Don’t they understand what might be going on in her head? How much guilt she might be feeling when they say such words? I, for one, wanna throw a brick at them -_-

Honestly, my sister wasn’t overemotional or anything. Even if she was, she has EVERY right to be. She cried for a bit and now she is a bit calm. Me, other sisters and her husband are with her to make sure she is not lonely. I just wish people were more empathetic.

Turning another year

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So, I turned another year yesterday. I am officially 25 years old. I am a quarter of a century old. I am halfway to becoming 50 years. I am celebrating my silver jubilee.

Before hitting bed last night, I wondered: What have I achieved through out last year? Have I done anything that is worthy of even mentioning?

I really don’t have much. But here are a few things I am proud of:

  • Mending relations with my sister
  • Getting better results and trying harder at studies.
  • Taking better care of my hair and letting it grow
  • Drinking more tea and less hot cocoa
  • Crocheting two items throughout the year
  • Building friendship with an old friend and joining her gang of friends
  • Keeping in touch with friends though they don’t
  • Going on two dates… no matter how unsuccessful
  • Getting takeout drinks/food and eating on my way home
  • Working harder to earn more money.
  • Changing the way I dress for the better… with a hint of stylish
  • Being happier ….

These are hardly big wins… but I’ll take what I can get.

How i lost the most important person

I wrote this post on two days ago, on 8th May. It was an important day for me. This post is the reason why, and the story of how it became an important day for me. I did not plan to post this writing actually… but i thought i might as well put it out into the world. Be warned… it’s a LONG post… and it was rushed, so there might be grammatical mistakes.

Eight of May. What is the significance of that day? It used to be:

  • Eight days after 1st May
  • Four days before my birthday
  • Three days after my ex aunt in law’s birthday
  • Two days before children’s day (Here where I live)

… till it became the worst day of my life.

Early 2010, my mother started getting sick. She had pains radiating from her back to front abdomen. She couldn’t eat properly. She couldn’t sleep properly. We (my sisters, brother and I) showed her to specialists. No luck. Her scans showed everything was normal. Then, late May of that year, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She was 55 years old at that time. Just 55 years old. Doctors here weren’t qualified to treat cancer of any form, and they couldn’t pinpoint which stage of cancer she was having. So, they took her abroad to get a formal diagnosis. I had to stay behind.

It was stage four pancreatic cancer metastasis to liver. Doctors predicted she could last 6 months without treatment, and around 8 months with treatment. I still remember the day I heard that news. I remember being frozen. I had just started college and I was having my first semester examinations. I don’t remember how I managed to pass any of those papers.

When Mum was brought back, I remember she was angry. She was not told what was going on. Oh! How stupid my sisters were. Mum is an evil genius. You try to hide something from her, she finds out. She wasn’t upset that she was having cancer. She was upset that they thought she couldn’t handle it. She was strong. I had no idea anyone can be told that they have this amount of months left… and still go about as if nothing happened.

The early months were bareable. She struggled to let us wait on her. She was so used to doing things on her own. She insisted on cooking and cleaning. We let her do minimal amount to make her feel wanted. I remember this one day, I was going to college. I was late and I was going to skip breakfast. I was almost out the door when she handed a box to me. It was packed breakfast, by her. I almost gave her a hug. (But I couldn’t… coz that was not our thing) I went to college, had breakfast between classes and cried. Cried knowing that this might be the last breakfast she might ever make for me… and it was.

Her condition got worse and worse. Chemotherapy made her weak. She required hospitalization every week. At one point, the doctors asked to keep her in hospital for longer to observe her. Luckily, my brother managed to get her a private room in the hospital. It had a bed for the caretaker to sleep in as well. And enough room for her to walk around when she gets bored of lying down.

The months spent in hospital felt so long. I remember how life was then. I woke up by 6, usually skipped breakfast and rushed to relieve my sister who spent the night at hospital. I had morning class at 830, so if my sister is going to be late or if mum just wanted to sleep, I took care of her morning routine. That was to give her a shower and make sure she had breakfast. One thing I loved was combing and plaiting her hair. She even loved it, and even though it was difficult for her to sit up for long, she let me. I had to realize that she was tired and make her lie down. We had stopped chemotherapy since there was no improvement.

Later on, her condition got worse as the cancer affected her digestive system. We took her to the hospital for the last time. She stayed hospitalized for months. She was no longer able to process food. She needed a feeding tube, which had to be aspirated to remove the fluid that was forming in her abdomen due to the cancer. Morphine had to be administered almost every three hours (I think) or so to manage her pain.

At this point the doctors suggested a surgery to remove the excess fluid and insert tubes directly to her stomach for feeding. The operation was done on 4th May. I remember that day. I skipped an exam and rushed to hospital to speak to Mum before her surgery. She had not been given morphine, so she was in a proper state of mind. She talked to all of us, separately and together. She told me to never knowingly do something I will regret, and to be a good girl. That was the last time (and possibly the first time in a long time) that I received a hug from her. I remember being in tears as she was taken in to the Operation Theatre. That was the last time I saw the real her.

After the operation, she was in so much pain. She had painkillers administered whenever she needed to manage her pain. She had her operation on Wednesday the 4th. That Saturday which was 7th May, I remember standing outside in the park of the hospital. I was watching the sunset. And I remember realizing that she will not make it past tomorrow. I remember just standing there frozen till my brother came to fetch me after I missed his calls. He and I talked about it for a bit. Apparently, the doctor’s did not realize her conditions were so bad. Had they known… they would not have operated on her. The worst part? The doctor who operated on her was my uncle. My mother’s brother. I don’t know what he might have gone through.

That night I refused to go home. But everyone insisted that I go home and come back in the morning as soon as I can. So I went home… to an empty home. I couldn’t sleep properly. I woke up every hour to check my phone to see if they called. Next morning, before going to hospital i quickly went through twitter ( i used to tweet back then). I found out that it was mother’s day. How ironic was it that she was about to die on Mother’s Day? I rushed to hospital… well I walked. It was less than half mile away. When I reached the hospital I saw so many people waiting outside. People I don’t even know properly, distant relatives. They patted my back and told me to stay strong. I felt like screaming at them to go away.

When I got to the room, I saw my family gathered around the bed. Mum was gasping for air, by now. She had oxygen mask on, and she was connected to a heart rate monitor. My brother was so silent that it worried me. My aunts and uncle (my mother had lots of sisters and brothers… all of them who loved her so much) were there too. My sisters were sobbing in a corner. My Antio (relative and my sister’s bestfriend) was also there, in tears. I was confused I think. I held my mother’s hand, put on a cheeky grin and started talking my little nephew. He also came near and talked to me and told me about his grandmother. A distant relative made a snide remark at me for being so okay with all of what’s happening. This is when my brother snapped, asked everyone to leave. Everyone. Just my brother, my sisters and I remained. It was almost 11 o clock by then.

Brother asked me to talk to her… despite her inability to possibly understand what’s going on. He gave me a minute to tell her that i loved her. I just stood there. Taking in the sight of her. Taking in the fact that this face is going to go away, and i will never see it again. And for everything that happened… i couldn’t tell her i loved her. I couldn’t speak a word. But i screamed in my head telling her not to go. If only she heard.

… *sigh*

I don’t really wanna write the rest of it. She passed away around 12:07. I remember everything that happened at that moment, but nothing of what happened the rest of the day. My bestfriend came to see me a while later and was with me the whole day (even though she was 7 months pregnant). She said I was surprisingly calm, while others were weepy. I did cry at first. But I was stuck later on. I went home after her funeral later that day… and I just stayed in my room.

Mum and Me :)

Mum and Me 🙂

8th May will forever be the day I lost the most important thing in my life. I did not just lose one parent. I lost both. When my Dad died long back when I was 7 years of age, I felt nothing. I didn’t even understand the concept of death. No one bothered to explain. I was playing under a table with my toys and I overheard people saying that he is no more. I felt nothing. My mother became both parents for me. She had her faults, but she was the best mother I could have ever asked for. To me… she is irreplaceable. I will never call anyone else mother, and I will never be anyone’s daughter again.