Hugs

 When I was younger, I always felt a tad jealous of siblings or friends who were able to hug their parents freely and at any time.

Frankly, it's mainly because I grew up away from my bio mom. Of course, my stepmom was kind and nurturing, but you don't really get the same kind of loving from a mom who birthed you. You don't get the random snuggles and kisses.

But, sure, I get hugs from dad, with the occasional bedtime stories and stuff, but he works so much, we hardly have quality time together. And when my boobies started to grow at the tender age of 10, I got shy and insecure, so I couldn't really confide in him, let alone hug.

When I got married, I realised I really yearn for deep hugs. The snuggles, the deep breath-in embrace, the under-his-neck hug. Huh, no wonder I cannot sleep without a bolster la kan?

Now, as a mother, I hug my kids more than they ask for. I urge their dad to get used to it too, because I know there will come a time when they'll be too shy to hug their mother, because...yeah. But their dad can hug them more, and I hope they maintain that forever.

Strong Feels

 I miss it.

Feeling feelings. 

Those strong emotions and deep sentations we feel when we were younger.

We feel almost everything to the extreme. Shock, joy, sadness, love and hate.

I miss that sensation of having a crush. That intense feeling of jealousy. That excitement of having loved back. When things were new, fresh and adventurous. 

Nothing confirmed, nothing set in stone, yet we embraced it like no tomorrow. We gave all and get some back.

I also miss the energy. For friendships, situationships and relationships. Calls until the wee hours of night. Nightly lepak mamak even with morning class next day. Secret dumping our hearts out. All of that. We had so much time for all the feels, and yet it felt so packed, nothing was spared.

Now, as things going dull with time, the calm is approaching with age. We seem to love most but care less. We managed emotions smarter and wiser, from the times we had before, but the sense of adventure is getting less. We learned what and what not to do, we know how things will happen and feels like. We avoid risks and damaging relations. We’re wiser now, but where’s the thrill in that?

I wish to experience things the first time again. 

Family Feud

 It has been a while. A very long while.

The caretaker who took me in when I was little turned something in me into stone. No longer feeling compelled to please nor to endure.

Every single year,

Every single meet-up,

I would receive the same response, the same discrimination, the same judgment.

"Who is this?"

"I don't know this person."

"I hate you. I don't care about you."

And almost every time, I would have to butter up with gifts and compliments. Others told me to endure it; she's old. But she's VERY vocal and persistent. And I'm through.

I cannot even drive very far. I have a hard time travelling around. And when we do meet, I'd hardly bring my kids, as I refuse to let them even witness me being degraded and emotionally spat at. I refuse to let my husband be the anxiety drainer over this matter. And some people are just enablers...

They all called me to get over it. It's not about me. But what's wrong with thinking about me? What's wrong with trying not to get rejected at every single appearance? 

And you know what's funny? We basically have to BEG for your time to meet. Chase you, just so we can salam. No eye contact, because I'm so derhaka... 

I love you, and thank you. We will always be family, no matter what. Hope you're happy with your empire, but I'm just fine down here, looking up to you. I also just hope that you'll forgive me one day. I'm tapping out.

Mak Turut

 Everybody knows.

My father was one of the greatest filmmakers in the industry in Malaysia. (not bragging)

I only got to witness him in stardom as his "struggling" artist phase was far before I was born.

I was brought up in the shadow of a glamorous lifestyle. Celebrities and known artists came to our house, I spent time at the filming location and practically grew up surrounded by film crews and stars. I was also around watching and listening in during meetings and script readings. 

But, I didn't absorb much of my father's creative flame and love for new discoveries. I shy away, hoping someone noticed me, wishing I could be in that world, but I often shy away. ruginya lahai...

I dare to say, I have many creative skills, and I often learn quickly on the go. But I feel that's my limit.

a FATHER, who's well known, and well versed in the creative world, only to have a DAUGHTER who's just an executor. I can only realize what visions others have, but hardly my own. Even if I have, it's hardly significant.

Alas, I married also to a man, so talented and well respected in the Design world, and again, I execute...

Is it that bad? No. Then why? I dunno... With all the expectations from people around me since young, I feel like I let them down. I'm in my mid-30s and have yet to have my name in the media about my accomplishments. Was it a target in the first place? No, but...

Until now, I'm a great nothing. I'm good at things, but not great.

Hahaha... I feel like I'm just complaining. I'm actually am.

What's Happening with Change?

    I'm changing... spiritually, and religiously. And I'm thankful from the bottom of my heart that Allah gave me the chance to repent and start praying. At the old age of 34, since last Ramadan, I started praying. Took the advantage of Syaitan tied up in Jahannam, not tempting to stray me away.

    I listened more to Mufti Menk. Actually, it started with him. His TikTok video crossed my feed, saying, Allah loves me, no matter how much I wasted my youth, what I've done. Do what we need to do to deserve that love. Just having that video crosses my life, is proof that Allah still opening his arms, beaconing me to return to the right path.

    So I start with the very basics. 5 times a day. It was difficult, but the phrase, no matter what we did, as long as we pray 5 times, we'll die a Muslim, because that is our pillar. I did as much as I could. Every time I felt too lazy to pray, I feared that I may die suddenly that very day, such a waste to lose to laziness.

This post is not about preaching, btw. It's about change.

    I often thought about my life, my very being just 5 years ago, 10 years ago even, almost nothing of that time remained on my being. There was a time when I felt dependent, lost of identity, anxious, and slipping out the essence of myself. But after some pondering time, I thought, maybe it's for the better. I am not ALL gone, but I kept what mattered to me most, my optimism, my love for family, and my friendships with the few people who are still around. I Marie Kondo myself, safe to say.

    If I insist on keeping useless things in my life, I might never reach enlightenment and peace. Sure, the lack of a job and loss of motivation to work kinda hit me in the brain, but I feel that it's not the worst thing. I found an abundance of time to raise my kids, and actually have time to be present. Also, I found myself asking, why am I missing prayers all the while I'm a SAHM? I don't have any deadlines to catch, and I'm in the most comfortable state, wearing home clothes, and no makeup. I can take wuduk anytime without touching up makeup, those kinds of small things (Comfort is my no1 priority).

    I wanna say I'm at peace, but I'm not, though I am halfway there. My children are still very young and I'm still very dependent on hubster. But, the kids are growing and soon (Like very soon) they'll be out of home most hours of the day due to school and I'll be freelancing as my husband insists I do (I am quite free by then, hubby also says it's a waste of my creative talent and degree if I just laze around XD), So, I'll be up and busy too soon ;p

Eldest Daughter

 I live a normal harmonious life with my loving husband and 2 wonderful blessings of boys, and hope it maintains this way.

But somewhere deep inside, I get anxious whenever I hear my husband raised his voice to our kids, not even scolding them at times, but simply calling them in a stern voice, or when he comes home from work, and he’s right at the door, I often scamper about, fake busying or hide in the room, unconciously. It doesn’t matter if i just got time to rest and lay about in my already cleaned home, I instinctivly do this. Mind you, my husband couldn’t careless what I do, as long as the house is still in one piece.

Why I do this, is often out of fear that he’d scold me for lazing about, or degrade me that I’m useless, which NEVER happens.

I’m sorry to say, but growing up, this was what I had to endure, because I’m the eldest and has to bear the responsibility of setting good example or whatever. I can never get caught lounging around or risk getting scolded for reasons I cannot comprehend. I was shouted at as lazy for taking short breaks after helping guests on raya, infront of people. Even after I’ve done with chores, they called me because they thought I’ve haven’t done, but found out that I had, but didn’t want to admit that they were wrong, they made me do it again. My door knob would get turned around because I locked myself in the room too much, and family members would just barge in my room whenever they pleased, and sometimes, my young siblings would play pranks and locked me in my room. No privacy but apparently I myself to blame, but when my brother did it, locking himself in his room for hours, it’s ok, because he’s a guy, and needs privacy. 

I’m not bashing my parents’ parenting skills, coz no person in the world are perfect. But never once I was apologized to even when they’ve misunderstood me or done me wrong, because “Parent must never apologize to children first”. It’s a real quote I was told to.

My siblings get away with alot of things, they could rebel, play jokes with them and just do as they with little to no consequenses. It’s unfair, but I was brought up timid and scared of disapprovals and discontentment. 

So now, whenever I hear my husband raised voice, I would get up and do unnessesary things, and when I snapped out of it, I cried in my heart, asking, why am I doing this?. There’s so many times, whenever I hear my husband foot steps, I had to stiffen myself to stay put and not panic, and nothing would happen obviously. He would just come for favours or snuggles. But there are other times when I unconsiously just ran I hide, then sadly laughed at myself for looking like a fool.

My parenting isn’t perfect, but I’m happy that my kids can still carefreely come up to their parents, asking or telling trivial things. I’m snappy and abit of a tigermom, but it’ll break my heart if my kids would ever try to hide from their parents out of fear or judgement.

Being strict and rightful is nessesary in parenting, but never in the expense of the children’s mental health.

Going Mental

There was a time, not too long ago during this pandemic, I felt tired mentally and physically. I didn't rest well and nothing seems to get done. There were always things to do. A forever loop.

The worst was that all these happening, and I felt suicidal. Not out of sadness, but out of spite. The thought of me dead, making my husband feeling that he should've appreciated me more when I'm alive, grew stronger and more sinister. But, with religion in me, I knew that isn't the right thing, so obviously I wouldn't do it, but still, just having the thought of it isn't healthy.

I lowkey reached out for help by tweeting about it, in the hope someone will reach out to me with a solution. Twitter is the only social media I have that I pour out my feelings since it's quite discreet from a lot of I know, other than this blog.

Someone did reach out and gave me a contact to a therapist. It's good that we've come to an age that mental health awareness is a norm and not seen as problematic. Everybody has problems they want to address. So, I made a call to set up an appointment, but the therapist wanted to know what she's getting into and what's my current situation.

She mentioned that this had something to do with my recent birth (postpartum depression) and current pandemic lockdown. There's just no space for me to ease my mind. Along with the conversation, I cried uncontrollably. I couldn't hide it. My husband saw me crying, then.

After the call, he demanded to know what's going on. It took me time and guts to express my deep emotions. He was shocked and angry. How dare I tell this all to a stranger?? He felt ashamed and that our marriage is broken. I didn't mean it that way but it could be that if I don't seek help now. He still frets about how could I talk to strangers about this rather than directly to him. I said, frankly, it has been too many times he just shove my feelings aside and said I overreacted. I rather talk to a professional stranger that can assess my situation, rather than talk to the person affected with uncontrolled emotions. To that, we WISELY agreed.

Before our appointment came, the CMCO started and cross-district isn't allowed. So, the appointment was canceled instead of rescheduled because Allah knows when this is going to end. I was still determined to get to the appointment until I was the changes in the household, well my husband, at least. He seemed much more understanding and helps around without being asked or delay too long, which is nice.

The changes he made, made all the nonsense thoughts of spite and suicide gone. I'm more appreciative and felt loved. He even gave me a me-time the other day, walk and dine in at a mall with my bestie.

What I'm trying to convey here is, get help when help is needed. 'Fraid not of judgment and anger, because YOU MATTER. Try to solve problems with the right people. Address and assess because, no matter how lonely you feel, there are people that need you ALIVE.