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Acceptance

It is almost 1 am, and here I am lying on my bed unable to fall asleep.

The left side of my face hurts. I think it could be trigeminal neuralgia, triggered by my (also painful) cold sore.

So much has happened over the past few years & months that I do not know where to start.

Maybe it is wise that I start by sharing that I am struggling with depression and anxiety.
And that I am having a challenging time just accepting that.

When my previous post was written, I was told by a friend of mine who is a clinical psychologist that what I have been experiencing was actually depression.

And that my anxiety (the reason why I went to see him), was secondary to that.

It made sense for a bit.

But then my super ego kind of brushed it away and kept telling me that it is not a definite diagnosis.

I can’t possibly be depressed.
You should not be depressed, Melissa.
I should be happy.
I must be grateful.
I should be….

Then, I was seeing another clinical psychologist fortnightly for psychotherapy who had suggested I meet with a psychiatrist. She implied that I might need medication to ‘quiet my brain’ (my phrase, not hers). ☹️

With me currently working 6 days a week and then dedicating my only day off to my business, things were getting pretty rough.

I eventually decided to meet with a psychiatrist.

“You are unwell. You are depressed. And you have to accept it.”

I have to accept it.

Easier said (and typed) than done.

But it does make so much sense. Every single thing that I have been feeling, thinking and going through. All makes so much sense now!

Part of me trying to come to terms with everything is reading up about the symptoms & what I can do to help myself.

I plan to write another post on my personal symptoms – what it is actually like to be depressed. And how you can be around someone who is depressed and not even know…

Until then, I would appreciate your kind doa for me to get through this. And that I will actually have the strength to write another post soon.

I need to try to get some shut eye. Bye.

xoxo

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Yesterday was a good day

“Yesterday was a good day, Alhamdulillah,” I said to myself.

This was after days of feeling intense sadness every night, crying myself to sleep and the occasional intense chest heaviness I feel as I move throughout my days.

Those nights when I would cry & cry & cry, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

Those days when I feel so uninspired, so unmotivated that I sit and stare at my phone watching people pouring out passionate messages filled with excitement in WhatsApp, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

Those days when I cannot make eye contact with people and my body would literally shake anxiously, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

Those days when my body would freeze and be in so much pain that I cannot relax, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

Those days when I no longer look forward to working out – something I really enjoy doing, and wished I could sleep for days, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

Those moments when I feel like I am forced to smile and laugh, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

Those moments when I cannot stop my thoughts from racing, from only thinking that I am not good enough and I am undeserving, I would ask myself, “What’s wrong with me??”

But now, I know.
I know what’s wrong with me.

It’s depression.
I have anxiety.

I somehow feel liberated to know that I do have a disorder.
And it’s not just ‘in my head’.
Well, it is in my head.
You get what I mean, do you?

If anyone of you reading this are going through the same, please seek help.
There is support available.

You do not have to suffer alone.

There are ways to go about these things.

But yesterday was a good day.

Alhamdulillah.

xoxo


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Without You

Someone suggested expressing myself through my writing again. So here I am, trying.

Daddy passed away 16 days ago, and I am reeling.

Daddy was a diabetic, a heart patient with chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder who went through a bypass surgery in 2018. Things pretty much went downhill after the surgery with him frequently telling us about him being in pain & still out of breath when he walks or exerts himself. He was always in and out of the hospital either for his appointments or being hospitalised. Towards the end of his life, he struggled with walking & carrying out basic daily activities on his own.

But, he was just discharged from the hospital a day before his death looking healthier than he was prior to admission.

So, nothing prepared me for this loss.

Losing Daddy who had become both a mother & father to me after Mummy passed away has burned a huge hole in my heart.

Grieving for me has not been a pretty sight.
Sleepless nights.
Crying myself to sleep.
Racked with guilt.
Engulfed with sadness.
Overwhelmed with shock.

And not to forget that excruciating pain I feel when I pick up my phone to text or video call Daddy only to remember he is not here anymore. Now who is gonna laugh at my silly jokes?

As at today, I am still avoiding calls from people because I still do not feel like talking about it (and end up crying) over the phone AND there’s this part of me which does not want to hear people telling me I should ‘move on’ or to not be sad. NO, NOT NOW. NOT AT THIS POINT OF TIME.

And for this I am grateful for WhatsApp/messages. Because no one can see you bawling your eyes out while you reply their messages.

My life now has been divided into life before and after Daddy passed away.

Besides Mr. Sunshine, he was the one I would call when I got sleeping while driving (which is all the time).
I would always ask him for his opinion on things I felt like venturing into.
He stood by me through my breakups – driving me to classes when I was too sad to take the public transportation.
I would send him photos of my ‘achievements’ whether it was emceeing, performing, or other stuff.
He would laugh at my silly jokes when others found them lame.

He was the reason I own a silver-coloured car instead of a red or black one I initially wanted because, “Red cars have the most accidents, girl,” and “Black cars will be hot.”

I can go on and on but the gist of it is that I am in pain.

I miss you, Daddy.
I know you are not in pain anymore.
But, I miss you. 

إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعون

Ya Allah Ya Tuhanku ampunilah Daddy, Abd Raffur bin Abd Raffar, rahmatilah Daddy, maafkanlah Daddy, muliakanlah kematiannya, lapangkanlah kuburnya, lindungilah Daddy daripada azab kubur, jadikanlah syurga sebagai ganti tempat tinggalnya dan berilah kesabaran kepada kami, semoga arwah ditempatkan di kalangan orang-orang yang beriman.
Ameen Ya Rabbal’alamin

xoxo

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