deeplylovedme-blog

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Deeply Loved

Because you loved me, I will get through each day with a smile. That's what I vowed to do, and I've been smiling everyday since. That doesn't mean I never cry - doesn't mean I never miss you. I'm guessing that will never change. . I'm growing back parts of my heart that went to the grave when they filled yours with dirt. Bit by bit I feel more alive and not dead inside. Yours is the invisible hand in mine. You'll always be my favorite girl. . Today marks three years. I am still here, and you are there, somewhere. Though the night sky still blurs at times, The days are bright with smiles. . I hope you're smiling, Ma. I love you.

[deeplylovedme-blog]

The one who deeply loved me

There were many things in our dysfunctional family that I was able to avert my eyes from. It was how I carried on. It was how I survived.

As for my mother, she saw it all. She couldn’t pretend or avert her eyes because as the mother, she was at the centre of it all. She tried futilely to hold things together, yet everything had already crumbled. Maybe that was the reason she got sick. Maybe she couldn’t stand seeing anymore.

I thought maybe in a way, it was a mercy for her.

Though there were hardships, our years together were happy. It was then that I got to know her better. That without the stress, she was quite a jolly person. She always sang, and when she liked the song playing in the background, she would dance.

I learned that she loved old rose, shades of pink, and orange.

I learned that she preferred Tropical Passion tea latte over Hot Vanilla, though she liked both. I learned that she actually hated mung bean soup, even though that was a common dish in our house. She really wouldn’t eat it.

I learned that she was really just a very giving and tender-hearted person, underneath all the masks of being a woman, a mother, and a provider.

I wish that I was able to know better sooner.

I wish my siblings were able to know her as I do.

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Stargaze

Been sleeping like a baby Nodding off early and Waking up bawling In the middle of the night. But I'm no baby. No one to tuck me into bed, No one to soothe me when I cry, No one to sing me back to sleep. There's only the darkness of my room And the twinkling stars outside my window That blur and melt together When my eyes fill with water. Like a baby every night I cry In my sleep until I wake until I Fall back to sleep again and Into my dreams, fitful and never ending. Every night I look at the stars Hoping to find you there Looking down at me from heaven But the stars always melt together.

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The one I deeply loved

I lost my mother in 2014, but I was losing her piece by piece way before that. She had early onset dementia. My family was in denial at first.

Sometimes people pretend that there’s nothing wrong, and that when they look again everything will be back to the way things were.

I also tried to look away, but as time passed, I just couldn’t.

I started doing almost everything with her, and then after a while I was doing everything for her.

When she started losing her memories, I mourned.

When she couldn’t recognise me anymore, it hurt. I told myself it was normal. I told myself she would forget even more, and that I just had to accept it and be fine. I wouldn’t be able to help her if I wasn’t fine, if I let such things get to me. So I forged on. I couldn’t let her see me cry, because it agitated her. I smiled through it. I tried my damnedest to smile through it.

When she couldn’t eat on her own, I fed her. She wouldn’t eat if she was the only one eating. I had my own plate, with the same amount of food that was on her plate. If I had less food, she would give me food from her plate. She was just that kind of person. While I mourned that she couldn’t eat on her own anymore, every day I loved her even more, because despite the disease, her thoughtfulness and caring were still there.

When she couldn’t use the soap and shampoo anymore, I thought of the times when I was a child and she bathed me. At the back of my mind, it was another part of her that died, but one I couldn’t mourn. I was past mourning, I thought. I knew things would get worse, but I was used to it. I could take it. So I bathed her, and wrapped towels and my arms around her.

I soothed her with smiles, with songs, with hugs and kisses. I narrated whatever was on TV while continuously stroking her hands, so that she wouldn’t get lost in her own mind.

“I am here. Stay with me.” I wanted her to feel that.

When it was time for bed, I put anti-ageing moisturiser on her face, and massaged her hands and feet with lotion.

There were nights when I was afraid to wake up and she’d be gone.

There were nights when I was afraid that I wouldn’t wake up and she’d be left alone.

She was on a decline bit by bit, but steady.

It hurt until I couldn’t smile anymore, and then it hurt even more.

I am still hurting.

[deeplylovedme-blog]

The only people who think there’s a time limit for grief have never lost a piece of their heart.

(via leohearts)

[deeplylovedme-blog]

The hardest part of losing someone, isn’t having to say goodbye, but rather learning to live without them. Always trying to fill the void, the emptiness that’s left inside your heart when they go.

(via leohearts)

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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cJ29owEUfk)

If I play your songs like I used to, then Maybe the heart in your voice will Breathe life into mine once more. I’m just trying to live again.

[deeplylovedme-blog]

Near the brink

I posted the poem below in one of my other blogs. 

Everything’s just dead, you know? Do you know?

I don’t want to know, especially if you’re one of those A-types who judge too much and compare themselves to just about everyone, because they can do no wrong, because they’re so fucking strong.

There are times when I just want to stop. What’s the point of even carrying on? But there are times when I can carry on, even just until tomorrow. Right now, I think I can carry on past this hour, past the sunset, and hopefully past the dawn.

I have this mantra - 

“Just try until tomorrow. Just one more step. Just one.”

It works. I’m still breathing, aren’t I? 

But breathing is not living. There’s only so much breathing a person can take without living. Am I living? 

I’m existing, but I’m not living. 

There was a time when I thought I wanted to live for myself for a change. I wanted to be the heroine of my own story. I wanted to be the star, not the supporting character. I wanted to live for me. I wanted to care for me. Just me. 

I wanted to devote all the care I had given to people I loved to myself.

No more hiding. No more pretending I’m fine just so people around me will continue to smile, so that they can go about life without having to worry about me. 

I want to love myself and be honest to myself about my feelings. Why is it so hard?

I don’t know how.

Fuck, but I don’t know how. 

I thought I was trying to cope all these years, but I was just shutting myself out. 

I’m so good at lying to myself even I believed it to be true. That I was fine.

People thought I was strong. Well.

I’m dead inside. How’s that for strong?