So the first half of 2024 is gone?

 I'm blogging from my living room in my rented place in Pasir Gudang.

The night is silent, my neighbours kids have stopped screaming and bumping themselves against the walls. My cats are asleep. My Kindle is next to me, the cover of Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch locked on its screen.

This morning I sent my kids for scrabble. They didn't win, but they did well, according to me. 18th place out of 29 isn't too bad, right?

The place is messy now. I just don't have enough willpower to put everything in their places.

Tomorrow I'll have to go to work as usual. 

You'd think that after the previous post where my abdomen was cut open in an operating theatre, I'd sorta change 180 degrees into a pious, life-loving, God-fearing, all positive person.

You're wrong.

It takes just about a few months for me to forget the fragility of life and good health and now I'm back to being a whiner. 

I've weaned off on escitalopram against my doctor's advice, tired of becoming a robot. I feel things now. It's been around a month since the last pill. I mean I cried when I saw an ig post about a dead cat, remembering Kitty. Those tears wouldn't have come if I was still on medication. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is I need that little sadness. That little sadness when I arrive home after work and I watch the sunset and I close my gate and I know I'm not going to have anyone to talk to until the next day. Or next 2-3 days on weekends and long weekends.

I need the sadness when he rejects my invitation to go ngeteh, the sadness that I was always there for him but he can't even return me that favour.

The sadness that what happened in 2022 still bothers me.

The sadness that my life is absolutely lonely but as an adult I will have to professionally mask it until the next counselling appointment.

The sadness that those appointments may not even work anymore and perhaps the counsellor is secretly hating me.

You know, like fuck it why does life has to be like this.

One moment you're so happy you've been invited for a carpool and a trip to Melaka and you sing your heart out at Hard Rock Cafe and the next moment you're sad because they told you the band wasn't that god anyway compared to the last time they went there with their bunch of other friends.

And one moment you just feel like you're sorta accepted but you know one wrong move will eliminate you from that spot and sense of belonging you're beginning to build.

One moment you know perhaps you're not mentally and emotionally fit enough to get into a relationship and start a family, but at the same time you're longing for a family you build on your own.

Why is it that I can't seem to be calm and find peace in the moment, with whatever I currently have--a hugeass home with three bedrooms all by myself. A functioning kitchen with food. Books to keep me entertained. Stuff, chores, hobbies, all that can make me occupied.

But all I choose to do is to focus on what I don't have.

A guy. A relationship. A shoulder to cry on, someone I can lean my head on their shoulder. Someone to comfort me when I'm scared, when I'm sad, when I'm pissed, when I'm bored.

I'm beginning to think I'm running out of time. And some part of me already believes this is what I get for all the wrongs I have done. That I deserve this loneliness. That I deserve everything he's done to me.

I know there's nothing I can do.

I can't force people to love and accept me.

I can't force people to stay and not leave me.

I'm old enough to understand that if it will happen, it will. And if it doesn't, then it doesn't. There's no way to force things I can't control.

Sometimes I forget about that. I'm just too stubborn to accept things as it is. That this isn't cuti akhir 2022 anymore, that the person I knew back then was a different person because he's masking his weaknesses to get to know me. I wish I reacted differently sometimes to certain situations in the past. This would've saved me from so many unnecessary heartbreaks. But who knows, perhaps these heartbreaks were necessary after all.

Character development? 

Whatever.

See you in another post in 2025, if I'm still alive. 

How I started my new year with a midline laparotomy, and other things.

 I made it alive!

I'm here to see yet another year, and I have to say boy what an epic start it was.

I was scheduled for an appointment on January 4th, didn't expect I had to stay warded, and just like that the next day I found myself being cut open like a frog in a science class. 

How things just went so fast, I guess I didn't have much time to process it all.

Now I'm recuperating well at home,  slightly one week post surgery, with the company of my mum and two kittens. It's something I never imagined would happen, to walk into the age of 31 having to get a surgery all by myself. I never thought this was possible, that I'd have to rely on the compassion and mercy from complete strangers and colleagues I didn't trust enough to be friends. What an important lesson indeed, to go back to my 2017 self and get reminded that strangers are reliable and kind, and people who you deem acquaintances can provide the most unexpected form of care.

A midline laparotomy is something I've never thought about, nor do I even know the term prior to having one. Basically you get a hugeass cut horizontally on your abdomen, and realistically it leaves a very big scar. Have I fully accepted this? I guess it's tough, in this pursuit of love and acceptance and the belief that people still chase for beauty and perfection, it's like I loss a few points amidst my recent eczema scars as well. But I guess I can't complain, I'm alive, they got the thing out of me before it exploded or something. And at least it's not cancer, I tell myself.

The past week's been slow--animal crossing on my nintendo switch lite, playing with the kittens, trying to get back to reading and annotating Yagihara's A Little Life. Having conversations with my mum, trying to show appreciation that she came all the way to take care of me as my surgery wounds heal. Diet's been mainly on salmon and broccoli congee--again, I can't complain and I guess I'll have to wait before I get back to having my nasi lemak, laksa sarawak, and other spicy lauk sold at the canteen.

So what's the plan for 2024?

I can feel myself getting old, that there's not much cringe ambition and motivation left. I've got a job that gives me a tremendous sense of purpose, that nothing else matters anymore because I love my kids dearly (despite getting impatient with their teen behaviour sometimes). Oftentimes I picture myself as them, that 15 wasn't so far away, that my past writings remind me how terrifying it could be, navigating through school and stuff without much understanding on human behaviour and life's mysteries.

Heck even I don't understand life sometimes, but I know it's good and it's bad sometimes. I know oftentimes I get defeated my emotions, of waves of nostalgia and longings of the people and things and moments that have passed. But what power do we mere humans have but to get up again each time and remind ourselves that things will eventually turn out better. Better, and slowly for the best. As I think back of my years drifting aimlessly, changing jobs and worrying of an uncertain future, I just know that one day it'll all make sense, amidst all the worries and fears.

Spiritually, I've come to a switch, back to believing that there is indeed a God who orchestrates all these according to His will--A God who comforts and a God who cares. The journey of knowing that God is still a blur, but around the end of last year I had a longing for worship, an indescribable faith that I am taken care of.

While I admit my past mistakes still disappoints me till this day, I know I can't just dwell in them. Having gone through my surgery, having the moments of pure helplessness and pain, I know there is a price to pay and I believe I've partially paid my bit. I feel remorse over my past actions, but what more can I do? I just know that by now the people I've hurt will find their way to heal and eventually forget about me. 

Every moment prior to the surgery will be a memory I wish I can keep, experiencing pain, addressing it to the doctors, having gone to ED to see the surgical doctors and ruling out other complications, going through scans, getting prodded, getting poked, telling the nurses I'm in pain, taking painkillers, being pushed into the operation theatre, faces blurry cos they took my glasses off, getting assured that I won't know the pain because I'd be fully anaesthetised, asking again of the possibility I'd wake up halfway through surgery.

Waking up, it felt surreal, as if I went through a long, dreamless sleep, all my worries and thoughts taken away from me. Does death feel like that? Or is it more complex? I just remember being woken up by the doctor, the nurses, whoever they were, who were asking me whether I know where I was, and my initial words were simply, "Bina Insan kat mana? Budak-budak siapa jaga?" As a recall this memory I can't help to marvel at the greatness of modern medicine, of science, of how these knowledge have birthed capable people in the medical line, it's just so wonderful to think of, how are bodies are like cars sent for repair, how they can just lift out that thing and I could wake up completely fine, managing to articulate the pain as being similar to "Post-workout at the gym." I smile every time I remember the giggles of the doctors and nurses, entertained at my reaction, waving goodbye to me as I was pushed back to the ward.

To the doctors and nurses of Hospital Sultan Ismail Johor Bahru who took good care of me throughout my 6 days stay at Ward 4D, I will always remember the kindness and care. 

I'm glad I walked into the new year with such a tender fact that life is worth living, that I should take care of my mind and body, that it's all going to be fine.

I'll take this moment of recuperating as "Time you'll never get back," as said by my wise friend Cindy who's still here throughout the years of turbulence. This is, indeed, time I'll never get back. 

And being here, experiencing all these kindness, I just can't believe how the recent years have made me skeptical and cold.

So midline laparotomy, thank you? Despite the scar, I'll learn to accept things as it is. 

2024 will just be another year. Another year to learn how to become a better teacher, another year to learn how to manage deadlines, another year to maintain friendships and start new relationships. Another year to prepare myself for rejections, another year of trying, of heartbreak, of joy of love of all things in between.

I'm excited, and I'm eager to do better than the year before.