Sunday, July 01, 2007
I'm wondering why you'd think taking decisions about me without consulting me is somehow alright. And when I say you're not listening, you insist you are, and you still take decisions without consulting me.
No you don't know how it is, and no you're not helping, and sure you can be worried, but take your decisions as long as they don't involve me.
And no, you kindda suck at parenting.
I've asked you not to tell grandma. And there we go, adults who think they know best. Guess what she is doing now? Every 10 mins, and I do mean 10 mins, she pipes up about coming to Melbourne with me, cooking for me, wanting me to stay in Malaysia, missing me, loving me, asking who loves me, asking who I love, asking where my friends are, telling me to be happy.
You are looking at the problem in a screwy way. You think I'm taking the easy way out and not fighting and struggling and appreciating life.
I appreciate life more than you do.
I've struggled for this long because I do.
And you never appreciated it.
You should be so happy that you've had and having a good life, a loving husband, a doting mother, a less than perfect yet trying daughter. You're capable, bright, believe yourself beautiful.
Yet all I felt from you was anger.
Disappointment.
Sadness.
My earliest memory was when I was around six and standing by the road. I was waiting for my biological father for Hari Raya. I waited in the morning, through lunch time and was finally coaxed in at night by grandma. I laid awake and heard you on the phone, crying and shaking and saying 'how can you do this?'
He picked me up the next day and I sat at the table wondering if the cake his new wife was handing me was filled with poison.
I can accept that you've had a rough start. I imagine the worst possibility of rape and coercion and abuse. And what was the product?
Me, wasn't it?
I wasn't wanted by him, that was clear.
What hurt was you didn't want me either.
And no, you can say you never said that to my face, but you should know a child feel emotion more than words.
You think I never do anything for you. Have you asked me sincerely and listened to why I wanted to be a lawyer?
I wondered how the law could be so cruel as to cause you and I so much grief. I wonder how they could keep us hunted through those years while we pretended to be good muslims and you never came home.
It was all fun and games wasn't it? Grandma took me to the hotels to see you and Dad. Penthouses are great. Dad never came to the house.
You keep telling me about your friend who recently adopted a malay child and how you were giving them advice about how to cope. Somehow I wonder how much our condition have plagued you.
I don't look like any of you. I don't share the name name. You have us walking on the street and no one would think if we are family.
How much do you think I've appreciated a grandmother who dotes on me in her own way, a dad who loves me and a mother who is apparently sacrificing so much by moving to Paris to support me.
I find it funny you think of it as sacrifice.
I think I've held your burden enough. Take responsibility for your own decisions.
Another funny thing is how people react to the words depression and suicidal.
One half of the people go 'Oh I'm sorry to hear that, it must be tough'. The other half go 'I'm suffering too and want to die'.
To the first who also consistently asks 'how are you?', I reply 'yeaaaaah, still bad'.
To the second, 'why aren't you dead?'
And I must insist I have a say in things. It's strange that the first thing isn't to care for me but to wonder what you should do.
I didn't ask for you to do things.
And you're making it worse.
And no, you don't know much.
You can have a PhD and have years of therapy qualifications, but if you really knew what depression is, you would just sit next to me and not say anything. Again I stress the, not making decisions without checking to see if I'm fine with it.
That's prolly part of the problem, in that I don't get much of a choice. So when I put my foot down and say I've made my decision, you say it's not rational.
I am rational, you're just not accepting my rationality.
Switzerland is really progressing well. You should know by now that I'm really good at research and homework. Euthanasia isn't a new idea, it's actually a formulated plan since I was a teenager. Only then not alot of people have heard about it and what few has, has been against it.
How does it feel to be a young person, a teenager, barely past childhood knowing, feeling, thinking they should be dead.
Clearly something is wrong with you.
Anyway, flexible law in Switzerland. Assisted suicide is available for locals and foreigners and doctors are able to perform the operation or prescribe the tablets as long as they have no selfish intent. I was actually quite surprised to see the progress on this topic.
You keep asking how are friends.
Hm. Don't have any?
No, not talking to them.
Why?
My first thought was, they left me while I wanted to die.
No that wasn't it was it.
Flaws are acceptable. In fact I'm terribly flawed, one huge problem and the world died a little when I was born.
I hang out with geeks who rarely do anything besides play games and do random stuff. Tolerance is one heck of a virtue, I keep sprouting it to my sexist, racist hypocritical family.
Ann's a bitch. She's sexist, racist and hypocritical and that's not a flaw, in fact she is very much like my mother. But you see, I can't choose my mother but I can certainly choose my friends.
She has bitched and moaned about Eepin and Rayner and about hanging out with us and the only reason she tolerated my friends was that one time she wanted to be with Alex.
Now I sit back and think, that's a problem. I don't like her, yet I'm massively mean if I say now everyone else can't hang out with her because I don't like her.
Hm problem.
So I took myself out of the equation.
Invite her out, have fun, go ahead.
Then you started on the what's wrong with you speech.
Well love, I'm depressed, highly stressed and cutting myself, thinking about jumping out the window looks really good.
I'm not even angry, and I wasn't angry. Alot of the shouting was directed at myself.
But you made a choice. You asked 'why would you choose someone who didn't like you over a friend?' I don't know but you did.
I find it interesting that while these sayings of care come filtering through various channels, as well as anger and sarcasm, you still manage to think about how you feel.
Are you depressed? Your whole life is ending? You will never feel happiness again? You feel you have salt in your wounds?
I highly recommend a therapist and Prozac.
Sleepless nights? Constant worrying?
You didn't think while I was constantly sad, couldn't sleep, cutting myself, thinking about suicide, that the whole time I was worrying about myself? And when I tell you, you say I worry you.
Well........I've been fighting it for a good part of 10 years. You fell apart after 3-4 weeks.
So while you're falling apart around me, I'm thinking, yeah I'm alot stronger.
Kindda tired.
591/2000 words on porn essay. Crawling at about 100 words per day. Kindda sucks....
And here I am blogging....lol.
Meh.
Mused by Sukunami Taka around 12:59 AM
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