White pill - Blue pill - Green pill

Counting my blessings

2009-01-13T00:54:00.002+08:00

Objectively speaking, I really do not have any serious grievance to air where my life is concerned. Then why do I keep thinking about ending it all? That's a question that I do not have an answer to. Anyway, the things in life that I shall never stop being thankful for:

I wear diamonds everyday.
I have more than one diamond.
I carry a branded bag everyday.
I have more than one branded bag.
I wear nice clothes everyday... nice to me lah.
I can afford any dress that catches my fancy (because I shop at sensible places).
I can afford monthly pedicures and facials at upmarket places.
I can afford to colour and touch-up my hair colour at a nice salon.
I have an intact, functional and healthy family.
My sis is really nice to me.
My baby nephew seems to really like me.
My friends are good to me.
My ex-colleagues and colleagues are nice to me.
My bosses are nice to me.
I work at an accessible place with good food and good shopping nearby.
I was good at my work and given time, I know I will be good at my new place too.
I am a pretty good writer.
I am neither fat nor ugly.
I have nice skin that people always compliment.
I have good taste in clothes and accessories that people always compliment.
I earn a comfortable income that allows me for little splurges.
I always get good service wherever I shop. (I think it's because I'm always nice to service staff.)
I am a nice and considerate person.
I am always true to myself.
I have a logical and analytical mind, in spite of the blues I suffer.
I have colleagues and friends who forgive me for my occasional temperamental bouts.
I was promoted early. Three years after my promotion, I am still the youngest head.
I sleep in a nice, air-conditioned environment and my air-con emits negative ions.
I live in a nice neighbourhood which is not a HDB estate. I have nothing against HDB estates but I feel really privileged.
I have a nice 3G iPhone that I love to bits.

Unmentionables

2008-12-18T23:52:00.002+08:00

There is so much I wish to say, but I don't know who to say it to, without triggering an unwanted reaction. I used to tell my doctor, and I used to tell my therapist, but I have lost the courage to tell them. I do not want my doctor to ward me, I do not want my therapist to interfere in my life by sharing my condition with people I want to keep it from.

I used to have recurrent thoughts of death, but I really had no desire to carry it out. No one seemed to totally believe me, in spite of my emphatic reassurances.

Recently, I don't know why, but recently, I do have a faint yearning to carry it out and have very specific plans (drug overdose). This period has coincided with an increase in job stress, but I had been through numerous more stressful periods at work without feeling this way. This period had also coincided with adjustments in medication, which from experience, were highly traumatic changes.

Let me emphasise that it is just a faint yearning, not strong enough to be called 'desire'. How do I communicate this to people without causing alarm?

Getting better

2008-09-24T14:33:00.003+08:00

It's been a while since I've posted. I've changed to a new working environment, and my mood has improved quite a lot. I am not sure if these two are related. Perhaps, or perhaps not.

The new working environment has been challenging, as I have to deal with issues that I am totally unfamiliar with. There are many things that I do not know, and I'm sure there are also things that I don't know that I should know. It's been slightly more than a month, and things are beginning to make sense to me. Of course, I'm still a long way from being proficient in my job. But I no longer feel so profoundly sad that it's choking. It is sad that I felt this way in the old environment, because there weren't people or things that I disliked. It was just very strange.

I have stopped my sessions with the psychologist. Mainly because I feel well enough to cope on my own. Partly because I had to recount the things that made me unhappy during the sessions, which made me feel as if I had to go through the pain twice over.

With luck, the doctor would be cutting down the medication I can take, thus beginning the slow journey towards good health.

Blank

2008-06-28T19:27:00.002+08:00

I am at a loss for words, but I just feel like writing something. There is this unspeakable burden in my heart that presses heavily against my chest.

My application for a hospitalisation and surgery insurance plan has been rejected, due to my medical history. In spite of my occasional moodiness, I am very much functional. Now, this makes me wonder, what about people who are much worse off than me? Are they going to be denied insurance coverage too?

Hazel a.k.a. Foolz

2008-06-08T01:29:00.002+08:00

I was wondering why it was raining all day when it is only June. I just realised that perhaps it is because you have left.

Sending my dearest regards to you, wherever you are right now, sweetie. Les Dames will never be the same without you.

Little whines

2008-05-18T22:14:00.002+08:00

We all need to whine in a while. But perpetual whining is for weaklings. And so I keep these little complaints to myself. But here it goes:

My stomach's been hurting on and off for some time, even though I've been rather careful with what I eat these days. Is it the irritable bowel syndrome? The frequent bloatiness, churning and squits makes me feel rather down.
The headaches come every few days. They are quite bothersome, although not painful enough to warrant a painkiller.
The constant thirst, which is a side effect of my medication, is pretty uncomfortable.
I've been having dizzy spells lately. I seem to 'black out' for a few seconds every now and then. It's slightly worrying.
Occasionally, I get a sharp pain in my chest. I guess it's part of depression. But is it really just that?
The blues assail me often these days. It is not the plain sadness that people think it is. It is a choking feeling of despair. It is not just emotional pain. There is a physical dimension to it. It is an uncomfortable, suffocating, tight feeling across my chest that threatens to bring tears into my eyes. It goes on for a long time.

I wonder what's wrong with me?

I brought my laptop home over the weekend to get some stuff completed. Otherwise, I would need to complete 16 tasks in 1.5 working days, assuming that there are no new issues coming in. But I feel extremely reluctant to work on an off-day. There are so many other things at home that I would rather do. Moreover, I am not feeling well - see the above symptoms.

The week's round-up

2008-04-20T19:09:00.003+08:00

It's been quite a tumultuous week. 树欲静，但风不止。 Emotionally, I seem to be going through a divorce with this world. There was once we had close ties, but the emotional bond is not there anymore. The present arrangement is just a formality, my existence is just in name. I am looking forward to making a clean break, and break free.

"I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty."

[As You Like It, Act I scene 2]

It's not the first time that I've said it during the week. If I'm gone, it's ok. The world will still continue to go round. No big deal. Why don't we part on amicable terms?

Surprisingly, my doctor seems to understand what I'm getting at. When I told him that I am just taking up the space of an unhappy person, and my life and possessions could be given to someone else who would enjoy it, he asked me, "Why can't you be that person?" That's true. Why? The child-like interior monologue tells me, why, that's because you're incapable of being happy. At times like this, my conclusion is, maybe something is making me unhappy, but I don't know what.

And so my doctor decided to hypnotise me on Saturday. A process that I only agreed to undergo after reading somewhere that it is possible to tell a lie in a hypnotic state. I might need to, if it's necessary. The process made me feel uneasy. Maybe it was because he was dressed in a white shirt that looked like what a politician from Singapore's ruling party would wear, which in turn brought back some traumatic memories. That painful memory shall forever be buried in my heart, for I can't share it without contravening the Official Secrets Act. Anyway, I doubt that it's that incident that has done so much damage to my psyche. Surely, I can't be that sensitive.

I'm not sure if I was successfully hypnotised, since there was so much going on in my mind at that time. But it brought back a lot of old memories of the days in school. In primary six, and in junior college. Then I had an epiphany. I was normal, I have always been normal. I only started to have doubts in the recent years because I've been working at close quarters with people who think and feel very differently from me. I can understand them, but they've not understood me. That's how doubts of my own sanity and equanimity began to germinate and flourish. If I think about it in a detached manner, I can see the funny side of it. But I also think that I am a social misfit. Which brings me to my first point - if I am so at odds with the world, why don't we just part on amicable terms?

Having said that, I feel quite grateful to my doctor for spending more time with me to help me work through these issues, though he wasn't obliged to. He said that he saw him as a unique individual, and it wasn't true that if I were gone, I would be easily replaceable.

Perhaps those kind words were true. But when you're emotionally going through a divorce with the world, cutting off all ties can bring about immense relief.

Silly me

2008-04-06T19:29:00.002+08:00

I'm one of those silly women that Shakespeare railed against in his plays. The type who does not know what she wants.

I am at a cross-roads. Due for job-rotation, and so I submitted an application for a post that I wouldn't mind doing. And now I'm having second thoughts. Maybe I should try to aim for what I really want? But what if I get what I really want and then discover that it's not all that it's cracked up to be? Things tend to work like that...

Now, everything's in a flux. I've got a job interview on Wednesday. Imagine if I clinch it, and then someone tells me that I can get a shot at what I want. That would be the second time I've snubbed this organisation, as they offered me a job three years ago, but I went somewhere else instead. Poor them, silly me.

Chicken soup for the soul

2008-03-15T18:00:00.002+08:00

I was on the verge of tears this whole afternoon. As usual, whenever I feel like giving myself a treat, I would head to Central at Clarke Quay to have a bowl of ramen from Marutama Ramen (with aosa seaweed and tamago topping, please). The piping hot bowl of springy, thin noodles, immersed in light chicken broth and seaweed is my ultimate comfort food. Slurping their noodles fills me with happiness, and I would always have a warm, fuzzy buzz of contentment after the meal.

Not a good day

2008-03-10T22:10:00.002+08:00

It was busy, nothing particularly upsetting. But the sadness just bloats in my stomach, making me feel as if I want to throw up. The sadness also stings my eyes, making me feel that I need a good cry.

But speaking from experience, I never felt better after crying. It makes me feel worse. So, I shall just let it remain bottled within.

Perhaps it's because I haven't had time to acknowledge my feelings. I haven't had time to give this sadness the recognition that it has been clamouring for, and hence, I've not acted on it. That's what usually happens in my life. I'm just able to put aside my personal turmoil and deal with the larger crisis at large. The nation is in crisis, looking for the missing Mas Selamat Bin Kastari. At times like this, how can I not pull my own weight and make things easier for everyone?

I wish I could go for a break, but this is just not a good time. There are people in worse straits than I am and they are not going for a break. The policemen and the soldiers, trudging through the muddy wilderness trying to make amends for the negligence of an anonymous being from a shadowy organisation. The checkpoint officers, working extended hours, facing the frustration of the irate travellers... I am just a pen-pusher, probably paid more than many of them, working from the comfort of an air-conditioned office, with my favourite songs playing in the background. What right do I have to ask for a break?

Pretty good day :)

2008-03-07T22:01:00.002+08:00

Took the day off today. I initially felt a little guilty, as my organisation is affected by the escape of Singapore Jemaah Islamiyah leader Mas Selamat Kastari from the Whitley Detention Centre. I have my sweet boss to thank for allowing me to take a break. It's been a really productive day; I've completed everything that I had intended to do:

Check my office email in the morning before going out. (check)
Go to the IT fair (check)
Buy a mp3 player with built-in speakers (check - got the Creative Zen Stone Plus at $159)
Buy a decent pair of in-ear earphones to replace the broken pair (check - got a pair from Creative at $39)
Buy a comprehensive anti-virus software for the home computer (check - got the Norton 360 version 2.0 at $129)
Go to DRx Medispa to use my voucher for a 'Trim and tone for the body' session (check)
Get the Comedone Formula from DRx (check - spent $70+)
Dash to Emily, my Chinese physician to fix my back (check - spent $60)
Dash to Headquarters Salon at Raffles Hotel to use my hair treatment voucher (check - paid $110 after discounts)
Buy bread for tomorrow's breakfast at Epidor, a breadshop opened by the Four Leaves Bakery (check - spent $6.45. Looking forward to breakfast tomorrow)
Have a nice meal for dinner (check - bought the 'Chicken Ole' baked rice from Pizza Hut at $10+)
Stock up on junk food from Fairprice Finest (check - spent about $6)

It was quite an expensive day, but hey, I got what I wanted without paying through the nose.

I actually woke up with a backache. My lower back occasionally gives me some problems. I felt a bit perturbed, as I don't remember doing any back-busting activities, unless you count lugging my ugly, heavy IBM (now known as Lenovo) ThinkPad home from office. Maybe that was what 'killed' my back. My back was hurting pretty bad when I was walking briskly and purposefully through the IT fair at Suntec Singapore. Pain actually shot through my legs as I walked. I suppose I could call in sick for tomorrow's retreat, but I doubt my colleagues would believe my story.

The body treatment at DRx Medispa was... probably the most uncomfortable session I've ever had in a spa. Well, I've never gone for slimming treatments at the salon, so everything was new to me. After going to the gorgeously clean toilet in the spa, which must be the best toilet in the darned Suntec City (I hate this sprawling mall because you have to walk for 20 minutes to get from one end to another and its toilets are grey and dirty), I deposited my bag and glorious haul from the IT fair in their lockers. I'm really grateful that my phone's far, far away from me because I get severe anxiety pangs if I hear my phone vibrating in my bag. It started off with weight and body measurements, and then a 10 minute session in the steam room. Even though my gym has a nice steam room, I've only been there once. Well, there's nothing to do in the steam room, except to 'stone', and 'stoning' makes me nervous. I spent my 10 minutes counting the little light bulbs that changed colours every few seconds. I got a bit finicky when I noticed that a few bulbs were faulty, as they did not change to the 'right' colour. Anyway... I was taken to nice comfy room for the body wrap. The serum and cream felt cold to the skin. I think the cream probably had some chilli ingredients, as it made my skin feel hot and tingling. Then, my body was tightly wrapped in clear foil and I had to lie down in this heated bed and covered with a blanket to keep the heat in. My skin was really red by the time the wrap was taken off. I hope this redness will subside soon.

The next stop was to Emily's clinic. Like the last two times I went, she did acupuncture for me. I continue to be amazed by acupuncture and her skills. She just took a look at my back and correctly surmised from my misaligned spine that I've been having digestive problems in the last few days. She actually said the exact symptom I was having! And about acupuncture - how can so many needles go into your body without causing pain? But the needle that went into the top of my head made one of the needle-points in the back hurt for a second. Before the needle went in, Emily said that the needle-point in the top of my head is directly linked to the spine. Uncanny. Another strange thing about acupuncture - it seems to cure me of my anxiety pangs. I could actually lie on my stomach for around 15 minutes without feeling any nervous attacks. The last time I had acupuncture, I was struggling with insomnia. Surprisingly, I could sleep very well after that.

Speaking of sleeping, I'm going off to watch 'Security Police', a Japanese drama serial that I'm currently following.

What a day

2008-02-26T21:44:00.002+08:00

One incident alone would probably not have brought me down, but it's been an accumulation of vexations that made me weary of work, weary of people and weary of the sun.

I've been struggling with insomnia since last Wednesday, which has made it six tiresome nights in a row. Even the trusty ol' sedative has failed me. I'll go to bed at around 1am, when I start to feel drowsy. Then, I'll spend the next 2 or 3 restless hours tossing and turning. Then, I'll finally doze off, and wake up at 6am and can't sleep anymore. One of my doctors had prescribed dormicum, which hasn't been working well. I'm half-tempted to wash it down with alcohol, to um, enhance its effects. But nah, I'm not stupid.

My bosses are really nice people, but being women, they are emotional creatures. I've never had problems with women bosses, but these two women... They need to feel for something before they make a recommendation. But for me, it's cool-headed analysis. I do not invest any feelings in my recommendations. Hence, I don't fret whether my recommendation gets accepted. My recommendations usually get accepted. Even if my proposal gets rejected, I'm not emotionally engaged in work to get upset over it. It is frustrating for me to have to appeal to their feelings whenever I make a certain recommendation. They'll tell me that intellectually, they accept my argument, but they need to feel for it. This always makes me want to dash headlong into a wall and smash my own head into pieces.

Anyway, today, they felt 'betrayed' when I told them I don't intend to fight for my proposal when we are meeting the big-wig tomorrow. I can't imagine that after working for this man for years, they still don't know what puts him off, and what makes him tick. Fighting passionately for your proposal is going to put him on the defensive. It is better to present the objective facts in front of him, and get him to understand where you're coming from. But my bosses, they intend to 'go all out and fight'. And they want me to be part of it. Women! Although I am proud to be one, I am prouder for the fact that I have a cold, analytic mind.

And my friend, my toxic friend. She is currently working in a private institute, as an administrator for certain courses offered by the institute. I was on MC yesterday, and she called me, saying that one of her temporary staff had messed up a set of applications that she had to submit to the organisation that I work for. Due to the blunder, the processing of the applications were delayed. She asked if I knew any 'big shots' who could help to get the applications processed in time. I asked her who was the processing officer, and she said she had spoken to the manager, but felt that the manager wasn't the sort of 'big shot' she had in mind. I told her my honest opinion. The manager is a very understanding and reasonable person, and my friend could explain the situation to her. I was sure the manager would try to help, as long as it is within her limits.

Today, she sms-ed me, saying 'oops, I dropped your big name to the manager to get her to approve the applications by today or tomorrow'. It is not unreasonable for me to get angry, right? She was abusing my friendship without my permission. And so I messaged her back saying, 'what do you mean by oops? I don't appreciate my name being abused'. Thirty minutes later, she messaged a 'sorry'. Knowing her, she's not truly sorry and will probably nurse a petty grudge against me.

People are really exhausting, tiresome things. I wish I could just Rest. In. Peace.

Feel like cutting myself

2008-02-11T22:21:00.000+08:00

Every time I feel helpless, I have thoughts of cutting myself. I do recognise that it is anger turned inwards, when I can't do something about a situation that makes me angry. Images of cutting myself also materialise in dreams. I've been having vivid dreams after I resumed taking the "white pills".

Nowadays, I hold a pen-knife, I like to press it against my wrist, to feel the reassuring cold metal blade against my skin.

Again, my mom's been trying to set me up with a guy. I just hate it whenever it happens, because she doesn't take 'no' for an answer. Perhaps cutting myself would send a strong message of 'no'.

Two more days...

2007-12-08T21:45:00.000+08:00

I love my workplace, I love my colleagues, but I'm dreading it. Just two more days, and I'll be back in office. Dread just swirls around my stomach, making me feel ill at ease. I hope I'll be able to handle the hustle and bustle on Monday.

I actually came close to fainting two days ago, at the clinic, during a check-up. Thank goodness it was at the clinic, where I was immediately attended to. And thank goodness I felt OK after lying down for a few minutes. I can't imagine the consequences of passing out, say, at some shopping mall. Yep, I'm praying that I'll be able to handle the full load at work in two days. Frankly, I would feel terribly guilty and inadequate if I had to take medical leave shortly after a prolonged absence.

Well, I'm actually looking forward to the public holiday that is two weeks away. It seems so far away. I guess I'll have to do the sensible thing by breaking the two weeks into little milestones that I can cross. On Monday and Tuesday, I'll look forward to Wednesday, which is pay day. From Wednesday to Friday, I'll look forward to the weekend. When the weekend is over, the public holiday (on Thursday) will seem within reach!

Actually, the public holiday is a more significant milestone than just a holiday. That's all I can say...

All this repression and suppression can't be good for my mental health. But what can I do? I'm a victim of my own doing, and hence undeserving of sympathy.

Fragile as an egg shell

2007-12-07T21:00:00.000+08:00

I can't stop pondering over a problem which I have already thought of a solution, but can't carry it out yet. Somehow, I keep turning it over my mind, it makes my heart race whenever I think about it. Does that make me an obsessive? The temptation would be to reach for a tranquilliser to calm my nerves, but my brain tells me not to be such a weakling.

Something tells me that my thoughts will probably keep me up all night, like a form of self-inflicted psychological torture. I know that I am just needlessly suffering, but I can't stop it. Hopefully, typing this out will make me feel better.

It has been an eventful fortnight, the details of which I am unable to share. But the worst is over. All I need to do is to grit my teeth and endure another two weeks. Then, the stress will be over. Things can only get better after that!

Back to square one

2007-11-28T23:06:00.000+08:00

I've been re-prescribed the same white pill that gave me so much pain the last time. What can I do? Keep my spirits up and hope for the best. What else can I do?

Happy.Birth.Day.

2007-11-10T19:29:00.000+08:00

It was my birthday on 8 November, I hadn't intended to celebrate actually. In other years, I would take the day off from work. If that day happened to be a public holiday (usually Deepavali), I would either apply for leave on the day before or after. This year, I just didn't feel like it.

What made me really touched was how much effort my colleagues had made, to make it a special day for me on the 7th. They surprised me with a cake - a strawberry cheese cake, which some weeks back, they sounded me out by mentioning that they had seen the cake featured in a magazine. Not suspecting anything, I just responded, "Sounds delicious." As it was a online cake store, they had to collect it at Marine Parade.

They also got me a gift - a Louis Vuitton card holder in monogram canvas, which I had already been eyeing for quite some time. They had wanted to get one from the nearest store, which was at Raffles Hotel, but it was the last piece. As they did not want me to get the last piece, which had probably been handled by dozens of customers before them, they rushed over to the Ngee Ann City outlet to get a brand new one for me.

I'm still amazed at the amount of effort they had put in. I am really fortunate to be working with this wonderful group of people. I do wonder what I've done to deserve all these. For their sake, I shall try not to wallow in sadness and despair and try to appreciate the world around me better.

Dumbledore's aime

2007-10-25T21:36:00.000+08:00

Readers of the Harry Potter series would have read about the revelation that our beloved Albus Dumbledore is actually gay, and was in love with Gellert Grindelwald.

According to what I have read in the Internet forums, quite a number of people felt that it was "unnecessary" and believed that it was a publicity stunt by J K Rowling.

First, let me deal with the "unnecessary" part. I believe this stems from the belief that a wise, old, powerful being like Dumbledore need not have any sexual inclination. After all, his role in the story is to be a guide to Harry. His love life does not exist.

I have problems with this line of argument as the message that Dumbledore has been repeating to Harry in the series is that love will ultimately triumph above all. Surely, for someone to earnestly believe in his own message would have had at least an experience in falling in love? Surely, J K Rowling, in all her meticulous back stories about her characters would have considered whether Dumbledore had ever been in love? Why is it so unacceptable to these people that yes, Dumbledore had fallen in love once?

As for those who see it as a publicity stunt, I think this is a lazy conclusion. The writer was asked a very direct question when she was doing a public reading at Carnegie Hall, "Has Dumbledore ever been in love?" Is there a need to hem and haw over this question when the entire series has been published? Rowling was asked a direct question, she gave a direct answer. I don't see any problem with that.

I remember telling my sis excitedly that Dumbledore is gay, and I still think he's great. My sis asked, "So Dumbledore is gay, but he's a great man?" I answered, "No, Dumbledore is a great man, and he happens to be gay."

Searching for a release

2007-09-30T01:14:00.000+08:00

I feel so pained and suffocated by depression. Nothing seems to help. I think the pain will only go away if I die.

Hitting another low

2007-09-06T00:34:00.000+08:00

I really don't enjoy whining, be it in the world wide web, or in real life. But for days, I feel as if sadness is eating me up inside, causing immense pain. Soon, I'll just be a fragile, empty shell, just prod me lightly with a finger and I may crumble and disintegrate.

Why? Why is my medication not making me well?

Goodbye Sunny days

2007-08-29T00:08:00.000+08:00

It was raining the day Sunny decided to go away. 'Sunny' is the nickname the Norwegians have for Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, one of my favourite players ever to play for Manchester United. He's retiring at age 34 because of his injured knee.

I still remember his debut for Man Utd. He was a substitute against Blackburn. I didn't expect this cherubic-faced benchwarmer to score, but he did. And of course, the winning goal during injury time in the European Champions League Final. That goal enabled the club to win the treble that season.

Thank you, Solskjaer, for all the goals you scored for us. All the best for your coaching career!

Sleepless again

2007-08-25T22:56:00.000+08:00

Just a couple of years ago, the idea of not being able to sleep was pretty inconceivable. I could go on a marathon nap in the afternoon, say three hours, and still have no problems sleeping at night. When I travelled overseas with my sister, or friends, I was always falling asleep in planes, trains, buses, ferries, and so on, much to their chagrin.

Friends used to tease me about my penchant for 'sleeping around'. I was that good at sleeping.

Until about a year ago. If not for insomnia, I doubt I would have seen a doctor for being depressed. Moodiness was a perennial problem, even in pre-pill days.

In the last few months, I did not have much of a problem sleeping, except that I take much longer to fall asleep. Usually around two or three hours. The problem with me these days is, I tend to get anxious during the day, and more anxious as the day passes. My anxiety would peak during my evening commute home from work. And so when I get home, I would still be rather bothered and restless.

In the last three days, the sleeping bug disappeared again. I was physically exhausted, but... I just can't sleep. Theoretically, it could have translated into more productive hours, but it just doesn't work this way. I tried reading the documents I brought home to read, but I was too tired to concentrate. And so I end up lying in bed to rest for a while, moments later, I would roam restlessly around the living room, my brother's room (he's the ultimate night owl), the kitchen... And then, fatigue would take over again, and I would need to rest in bed, but sleep still eludes me.

Albus Dumbledore: Appalling, awe-inspiring... and admirable? The book: Awesome!

2007-07-21T19:23:00.000+08:00

Yes, I have finished the book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Got up at 7am, rushed to the bookstore downstairs, queued up, made payment and rushed home to finish the book. I took brief pauses in the middle, but essentially, the whole afternoon was spent burying my face in the book, which I finished at around 4pm. Ah.

It's the best among the seven books. Finally, there's a book that I liked better than The Prisoner of Azkaban. When the title of the book, Deathly Hallows, was revealed, fansites began speculating what 'hallows' meant. They concluded that it had something to do with something holy, and something to do with saints.

There are no sacred beings in the book. Not even Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I really liked him, from Book 1 to Book 6. He was the brilliant, quirky and humorous genius, the only one that Voldemort ever feared, but was blasted off the battlements of the castle by Severus Snape. I thought that was the end of him. But no, he turned out to be the main player in Book 7. Far from being saintly, he planned his every move like a terrible god, moving people along as if they were chess pieces. Indeed, he was more terrifying that Lord Voldemort.

Remus Lupin, a character that I thought was just a pitiful bit player consigned to the fringes of the story, turned out to be a little flawed after all.

To be honest, the first half of the book wasn't that enjoyable. It was not as tightly written as it could have been. Bill and Fleur's wedding went on for too long. So was Harry's 17th birthday party. Above all, Molly Weasley's meddling. These characters were likeable bit parts, but grated on my nerves when they were given too much importance. The final chapter was also unnecessary.

Anyway, R.A.B. That was the number one question I had, while awaiting the arrival of Book 7. The revelation of the identity of R.A.B. wasn't as impactful as I had hoped it would be, as I had guessed immediately after reading Book 6 that it was him. I did hope that I would be proven wrong. And there wasn't enough about R.A.B.! Could we find out more about what motivated him? How did he find out about Voldemort's plans? How did he feel? What was he thinking when he drank up the potion in the basin and replaced the real locket with a fake one?

As with most other books, the plot twist involved Severus Snape. Without giving too much away, he broke my heart.

Thoughts and feelings about finishing the book? I'm feeling elated and sad at the same time. I'm glad that Book 7 is my favourite book. Thank you, J K Rowling, for giving me an unforgettable afternoon. I am also sad that it has ended.

More of the same thing

2007-07-10T22:48:00.000+08:00

Went to see the doctor yesterday. Got a new medication, which is supposed to have a calming effect. It's not exactly new. I used to take it, but got taken off it when it started having side effects. It's quite troublesome, as the prescribed dosage is a quarter of a pill. Luckily I found time to cut everything up at one go.

As usual, every time I take a new kind of drug, I feel my condition worsening before it gets better. The sadness that engulfed me all afternoon felt so awful that I thought I was choking. This will go on for about 3 weeks before I get better, I think.

Oh god, when will this end?

Going to America

2007-06-24T18:47:00.001+08:00

There's a scene in Crime and Punishment, where a character decides to kill himself. And so he told everyone that he's going to America. "If anyone asks, just say that I've gone to America." Then bang! He shoots himself.

That's cool.

I suspect most suicidal folks find that their lives are too painful to continue. But not me. I just find it tiresome. Wearisome, but not exactly painful. Which probably explains why I'm still alive and typing.

Actually, there are many things that I was thinking of sharing, but right now, I'm too lethargic to do it. Ok, maybe I'll summarise. In this past week, I got blond highlights in my hair and bought a wallet from Louis Vuitton that cost $940. I'll be getting rid of the former, and have not yet got my hands on the latter. I realised that the blond highlights make me look sallow, so I'll be toning the colour down next week. As for the wallet, I'm getting my initials embossed on it, so I can only start using it 2 weeks later, when it's ready.

As for the other things... the other things will remain buried in my heart. Until they manifest as some sort of psychiatric disorder, I suppose. Then I'll take some pills to quash them.

Troubled

2007-06-17T23:00:00.000+08:00

Procrastination rears its ugly head this weekend. Brought home a tricky news release to work on, but it stayed in my bag throughout this weekend. No big deal, I'll deal with it tomorrow.

What's the scarier prospect in the office tomorrow? The big pervert in office is trying to get friendly with me. He makes my skin crawl. He pretends to like May Day, pretends to like Soda Green, so that we have topics in common. Ewww...

There are three types of people that put me off:

#1 - People with a loud voice;
#2 - People who are garrulous; and
#3 - People who keep talking crap.

He belongs to all of the above.

Why this farce, day after day?

2007-06-10T22:05:00.000+08:00

Everything's a struggle these days. I get tired out so easily. Can't believe I felt so exhausted in the middle of a shower that I just stood in the bathroom in a daze for a few minutes. It was the same thing yesterday evening, at the supermarket. The walk from the aisles to the cashier seemed too long for me to complete. I kept dragging my leaden feet and heavy basket, wondering when I would finally reach the counter.

Wish I didn't have to work tomorrow. But I have to. There's an important meeting tomorrow morning.

I feel as if I'm not living my life for myself, but I'm just too cowardly to end my life. What if my suicide attempt fails? I would have to live with the pressure of being constantly under the careful watch of others. If I had to try, I must succeed at the first try. I must plan it carefully.

The sanctity of weekends

2007-06-03T12:49:00.000+08:00

Ever since I started working, my weekends have started to be sacred to me. The last vestige of personal space where I did not feel obliged to hang out with people I did not care about, or did not like. I guess that's mainly because I'm in a job that does not suit my personality. When I was in school, I was always the quietest girl in class. And yet when I started working in public relations, I have to put on this 'PR' front. I was ok. I could pretend to enjoy the company of the slimy others, as long as I've got my weekday nights and weekends to cleanse and heal.

And so I turn territorial when people threaten to encroach on this piece of forbidden, sacred land known as Sunday. People whom you feel should try to safeguard your welfare and your mental health, or at least, refrain from harming your well-being. I am referring to parents. Why do they feel as if I am obliged to be paraded like some toy dog to their friends? I have no interest in getting to know their friends. I know, they do brag to their friends that they have a pretty and capable daughter. But that's the story that they spin. I am not a doll. Why should I get involved in their act?

I guess that's why I often have the urge to destroy myself. I have the urge to mutilate myself. I cannot look out of a window without thinking of jumping out. I cannot hold a paper cutter in my hand without visualising my own wrist being cut. I cannot take the train without have the urge to dash onto the tracks so that I can get knocked down. I keep wishing that I could just thaw, melt, evaporate and disappear. If there were someone else to take my place in this world, I'm sure that person would be a happier one.

Speaking of the 'other'. No, there are no spirits following me taunting me to kill myself so that they can take my place. Haha. As if I ever believed that there were any. I can't believe I actually paid the two spiritual healers to tell me that. Anyway, they were really nice people, though I doubt they truly understand my inner anguish.

I don't expect anyone to understand. Which is why I would rather continue to take pills to make my sadness go away, instead of finding someone to talk what's upsetting me. If there is a drug that will strip all emotions away from me, and turn me into a numb zombie, please give it to me!

Do you believe in ghosts?

2007-05-24T23:50:00.000+08:00

Yes, it's been a while. I've got better for a while, but I've got worse. Tears often come stinging in my eyes without provocation. I have visions of ending my life, though I honestly have no desire to.

A dear friend has a wild theory about what I'm going through - possession by a spirit. Some supernatural being apparently wants me to die, so that he can take my place. Do you believe that it's possible? Frankly, I'm incredulous. I believe in science, I believe in the arts, and I believe in philosophy. The supernatural world? It does not bother me.

Ironically, I've had a few experiences that science cannot explain. For some odd reason, I am just not squeamish about it all. One hot and stuffy afternoon, I was surfing the web with my brother, looking at our favourite football websites. All of a sudden, a deep cut began forming on his arm. I can still remember vividly how the both of us stared at his arm as blood slowly formed in one thick, straight line. He gasped in shock and pain. It was as if someone had used an invisible knife to cut his arm. Fortunately, the wound healed normally.

Colleagues have told me on more than one occasion that my old workstation was haunted. On days when I am not around, the sounds of typing would continue to emanate from my workstation. It was as if someone was typing on the keyboard anxiously or angrily. No one dares to take a look at my workstation after dusk. That did not stop me from clocking late hours in office. I just did not feel afraid.

Milton Friedman (1912 - 2006)

2006-11-19T00:15:00.000+08:00

"Inflation is always and everywhere a monetary phenomenon." It takes great courage to make such a sweeping statement. I've always found you cool, Milton Friedman. Rest in peace.

Losing hope

2006-09-27T21:05:00.000+08:00

In one of my favourite movies, called Lost and found 《天涯海角》， one of the characters, played by Takeshi Kaneshiro, promises the female protagonist (acted Kelly Chan), "I can look for anything for you!" In reply, the girl then asks, "I've lost hope. Can you help me look for it?"

I feel this way sometimes, having lost hope. I've stopped asking myself, "will I ever recover?". These days, I find myself assuming that I never will.

Steve Irwin (the crocodile hunter) 1962 - 2006

2006-09-04T23:24:00.000+08:00

I never understood him. He was always cheerful, always upbeat even when thrashing through the muddy swamps to show us an 'awesome' crocodile. Or chasing through the scorching desert in his khaki berms to give us a close-up look at a 'beautiful' snake. What would I know, I was stunned and stumped by a different creature known as insomnia.

He wasn't a friend, but he was there when I sat dazed and confused after prowling towards the living room, after giving up my chase of the elusive bug called sleep. Back then, I didn't know that it was depression that was actually stalking me.

I never understood why he loved the dangerous wild creatures so much. But I grew to respect and admire the sinister beauty of snakes and scorpions, even as I feared them. Through him, I understood that no matter how dangerous these animals were, they were worth preserving in our world.

He wasn't a friend, but he was there when I stayed home from work, tired of society at large. That day, I didn't hide away when he showed us the poisonous snakes of Africa. I finally knew what a boomslang looked like.

Rest in peace, dear Steve. Sleepless nights will never be the same again for me.

If you don't hear from me, you can safely assume that I'm dead

2006-08-06T21:37:00.000+08:00

It's been a while. I just logged on and realised that I had not posted anything for more than a month. July was eventful, July was painful.

Went to see the specialist on July the 4th. Saw him again earlier this week. Taking new pills that aren't as traumatic as the previous ones. (By the way, they're beige in colour. I've got a colourful life.) At least they help me sleep. To die, to sleep, no more. Sleep is like a micro-death, a taster of something that I've not got down to doing. Maybe I will soon. I've been having this unexplainable urge to kill myself, which lasts for a couple of seconds, before my usual lucid mind takes over. If it gets longer than those two seconds, I wouldn't be here. Hence, if you don't hear from me anymore, you can safely assume that I'm dead.

I just feel so pained, day in, day out. I don't know why. So I can't expect anyone to understand what I'm going through either. One by one, my friends' patience are wearing thin. I think they all assume that I've not got over him. I think I have. I no longer miss him.

That's because I've got a new problem. This silly handsome boy. I can't figure out how he feels towards me. Why does he take such an interest in whether I'm attached or single? Why does he take an interest in finding out the type of guys I like? Why does he drop little hints that he thinks I'm pretty? And yet why did I have to try so hard to wrangle a dinner out of him? And only to have him to say that I'll gotta have dinner along with his friends?

It's tomorrow night. Should I go? My pride tells me not to. My brain tells me there's no harm in getting to know more people. My heart tells me that I'm so emotionally vulnerable right now that I should opt for something that has the least potential damage.

This hand-stitched tapestry

2006-06-21T01:01:00.000+08:00

It's back, it's baack... Help! I can't sleep. Insomnia is like a persistent, odorous beetle that has sunk its tight pincers into my skin, refusing to let go. You know the pain won't kill you but it's pushing you towards the threshold.

Threshold... it's like standing along the edge of a cliff. Terrifyingly close to death, and yet tantalisingly tempting. It's like... standing too close to the track of a bullet train.

Have you ever stood too close to the track of a speeding train? Well, it happened to me a few times in Japan. I was at one of the more 'ulu' stations, one of those neighbourhood stations which the 'super express' train would speed past without stopping. Before the train arrives, there would be the ominous clanging of an old-fashioned bell. And then the barricades would go down at the pedestrian path. Less than a minute later, the train will bulldoze past with ruthless speed. It was awesome. It was awe-inspiring, feeling the piercing gust of the winter's wind against your parched eyes. It puts fear in you. Those few seconds of pure fear makes you want to run and hide for your own safety at the nearest convenience store. At the same time, it also makes you question, what if I get tempted to fling myself in the train's path? No, no, no, no... I should not! I cannot! I must not let such a hideous thought corrupt my mind!

Maybe it would be good to forget these things. I am getting forgetful. Today, I shredded a whole stack of documents that I'm not suppose to shred. I don't even know what I've shredded. I only realised my mistake when I went back to my desk, seeing my 'to shred' pile. Go ahead, snigger all you want, this is what the youngest promotee of 2006 did today.

I just realised that my mind is just a fragile hand-stitched tapestry, crudely and carelessly put together by a single thread. There are so many skipped stitches and now everything's coming loose.

Oh my god, I need a shrink...

Estella

2006-06-03T15:42:00.000+08:00

"It seems," said Estella, very calmly, "that there are sentiments, fancies - I don't know how to call them - which I am not able to comprehend. When you say you love me, I know what you mean, as a form of words; but nothing more. You address nothing in my heart, you touch nothing there. I don't care for what you say at all..."

Resolutions

2006-05-13T01:05:00.000+08:00

I'm on my track towards recovery, I think. I "only" get around three attacks a day these days. At this rate, I might just survive.

To mark my new lease of life, I resolve to be a better person. I'll start by being nice to the guy I like and stop acting like a god-damn ice queen in front of him. I'll also become a better person by stop leading on the guys I don't like. It's easier to be nice to someone you're indifferent to. Why?

Promoted

2006-05-04T22:13:00.000+08:00

Am I the only person in the world who needs tranquillizers after hearing news of her promotion? Today, I felt that depression was a pair of hands around my neck, threatening to choke life out of me.

I suspect I may not be capable of being happy anymore.

温柔

2006-04-30T00:36:00.000+08:00

不打扰是我的温柔。

Drowning

2006-04-26T23:13:00.000+08:00

I am drowning in the vast ocean of sickness. The shore of good health is not in sight.

Have you ever had a near-drowning experience? The feeling of being submerged under water, the choking feeling of unable to breathe? Currently I'm feeling like that. There's an invisible but forceful hand pressing down on my head to keep it submerged in water till my tears flow out in despair. I long to open my mouth and cry, but I can't.

My first - 23 April 2006

2006-04-23T00:30:00.000+08:00

The last time I decided to write, I was on the verge of death too. The things death does to you.

Who am I? A twenty six year old, single, female, Chinese with very pale skin. I just realised today that I may die soon.

The doctor told me to take a white pill twice a day - one in the morning, one at night. The blue pill is optional, which I can take half at night. The green pill is also optional, to take "as needed".

What I've been repeating dozens of times but people forget - the white pill makes me sick. It makes me want to puke all day, all night. It makes me tired. It makes me weak. It's supposed to make me better.

What I've been trying to tell the doctor but he wouldn't listen - I don't know when I should pop the green pill. Everytime I ask him, he would tell me that the green pill is just a temporary measure. If things don't work out, I need to take more white pills.

My deep dark secret - I think I'm in danger of getting addicted to the blue pill.

I've been carrying the white pills, the blue pills and green pills with me wherever I go. No one knows that I'm sick and I need to take them. Yeah, that's my real deep, dark secret.