Monday, May 15, 2017


There are a few good things I learnt from the incident two years ago which makes breaking up not that harsh this time.

One particular thing is do not cut off your friendship with others.

Like how I am glad that I relied on these two babes as my confidantes. We used to be roommates during matriculation and 2 years ago we were reunited over that sadistic incident. We had our fair share of arguments but it is with them that I am able to experience friendship in its truest form.

With them, I feel normal to take a day off just to sleep or bake. Or how just a simple new feature on Facebook would make us laugh like crazy. And that true friends are not only around when they need favours from you, but also when you're down. When you're in need of help. When you are gullible that you need someone to stand up for you.

A few weeks ago, I was told that I don't have the right to blog certain things. Well, guess what *chuckles*. I have blogged for more than one and a half decade now, I really don't give a fuck how others would judge me based on this. Yep. Read this, people.

If anything, I can be quite a composed and warm person until I sense someone trying to manipulate my thoughts and actions. In which case, I would turn into someone so evil, you'd wish you had never known in the first place. At times I becomes discreetly evil. At times I can be very obvious that you can easily understand that I am a dead end.

The old me would cling onto happy memories. I am never good at articulating my feelings, but I always hope that one would understand them through my actions. My words would always come out wrong, so I tend to forgive others when they do the same.

Still, forgiving and forgetting are two different things. I forgive easily, but I certainly do not forget. It's what my past experience had taught me. That one event would always lead to a chain reaction. That one can either stay the same or change for the better or worse.

Emotional betrayal, trying to paint a bad picture of me for all my close friends to see (the best thing is this time no more twisting stories because everything has been kept for me to see), even to a person with whom you had lost contact for so long, who had nothing to do with the relationship, siblings. I don't need a case of infidelity to walk away. I have failed to see the reason this would work. I remember my late grandmother telling me one thing. When a couple fight, the last people they should go to are their family members. This is my thought. I am putting it on the table, because at the end of the day, it is my life that we're putting at stake.

At the meantime, I feel as if a heavy burden had been lifted off my shoulders. I guess I learned another lesson. That when one persistently feels unexplained tension in a relationship and it goes unsolved, when one's progress in life stays dormant because too many things are being held back from all the mental crisis from it and they all go unsolved, same mistakes being repeated over and over again, that's when one should leave a relationship.

So I gladly walked away and breathe.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017


"Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard. Oh take me back to the start"

Just like the video, at times I wish some things can be rewound. Before I witness this part of this person.

People change.

Fights either make us stronger or bitter.

Unfortunately for my case, it is the latter.

Everything went downhill and we hit rock bottom. Spread-eagle. Separated apart.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017


Phew, finally my two weeks of on call had ended. At this hospital, dental officers are put on passive on call. It basically means we don't have to linger around at the hospital all the time. It's only when we're being summoned there that our attendance is required.

Still, I am being dubbed the 'Jonah on call officer'. Jonah basically is defined as a person who attracts cases. On regular on call days, most of us receive 2-3 calls per night. Me? I'd be grateful if I only receive 5 calls per day. My record is 13 cases on a fine Sunday. 

You'd find me at the emergency department seeing a patient who'd decide to wait for months before choosing to come to ED at 2 o'clock in the morning complaining of pain on wisdom tooth; to as bad as a patient who is rushed to into red zone (ED in Malaysia is divided into green - non-critical; yellow - semi-critical; and red zones - critical), trying to stop bleeding originating from multiple facial bone fractures. Imagine waking up and suddenly speeding to ED and later holding that fragile piece of that floating palate which is completely split from the skull, fixing wires, desperately trying to immobilise it. 

The good news is, patients generally do not die suddenly from loosing blood from having facial fractures, but leave it long enough, then you're indirectly asking to be part of a mortality meeting of a deceased. 

It feels like it was only yesterday that I was on call at a district hospital in Port Dickson, when my knowledge in oral maxillofacial surgery is so scarce, during which I'd only cry if I was given a Le Fort case. Today, I am no longer that weak person. 

For this, I'll have to thank my boss, Dr Latif (the orthognatic sifu as my senior would call him), for yelling at me all the time for mismanaging patients. He is a man, from whom you'd learn a lot if you're willing to put aside your emotions and dignity for the sake of leveling up skill and knowledge-wise. Whenever you come to him with a question, if it's stupid enough or is somewhat ignorant, he'd answer you with, "Look, I'm not sure whether you're stupid or you just could not care less on reading... but as written in...*he'd start reciting an article or book*". If it's a question that's worth pondering upon, he'd answer you with, "Look, girl, listen to me. Why the hell would you do *insert your mistakes*, when you could have *insert the solution*". A systematic man who despite his old age, still actively seeks for knowledge. He deals with no bullshit and he hates excuses. 

Come to think of it... I think some of his attitude has rubbed on me. I seem to have lower tolerance at dealing with excuses and bullshit these days. To me, it is either yes or no. If I question a person with say, A. I expect to be answered with A. Not some meaningless seconds and minutes, beating around the bush, to finally get to that point of A or perhaps finally discovering that the answer is Y. I understand that people make mistakes, but I hate it when they do not admit them and try to mind-fuck me thinking they are being intelligent by twisting facts. At times, I'd just say, "Okay" (while my mind is racing, thinking what a fucktard this lad is, thinking he/she had gotten off with such a lame excuse but it'd take too much effort to fight over it). That's when I am in my best mood. Otherwise, I'd just answer with, "Stop with all these cock and bull. Did you do it or not?" (and still thinking what a fucktard this person is).

I'm a bit too abrasive I guess.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

break free

At times, I hate how I believe in second chances.

How can I grant others a second chance when I am a paranoid bitch myself. And let's add more damage to that - I am blatantly honest too. 

Here's another problem. I have an abnormally slow heart too. Which initially stabilised, until recently. Whenever I am too sad, it gets slower too. So a few days ago I was hospitalised, all for the same reason - they were worried that I would go into cardiac arrest. I went through all these about a year ago, so I wasn't shocked anymore. The sight of that defibrillator being at my bedside - that's nothing scary anymore.

At times, I wish he had never came. I was fighting with myself. I was somewhat glad but deep down inside, I knew that everytime I get to feel happy with him by my side, the next day, I'd become terribly sad and crushed... and yep, that happened.

I no longer wish for anything anymore. I had cut everything off because... I really have neither the physical nor mental strength anymore.

Maybe I don't have the right to throw my tantrums. Maybe as I lie on that hospital bed, thinking that having a cardiac pacemaker implanted, my future in oral maxillofacial surgery being crushed I might have to be just a normal dentist, being on medical leave repeatedly, waking up in the middle of the night because apparently the neighbouring patient passed away. Only Allah knows how troubled I am with all sorts of possibilities that can happen in near future. 

Some might judge me - what an ungrateful sod, she can still work as a dentist. Open up her own clinic. Generate good bucks. 

If only I am as superficial as that. I don't wish for easy money. When I broke off my engagement, the path to oral maxfac surgery suddenly opened up and I grabbed the chance. It has always been my dream, my escapism. I love the thrill and how much it engages with the medical community. I don't feel trapped in the cocoon of dentistry.


Yes. To feel trapped. I fear that.

Sunday, March 12, 2017


It is rather confusing. To be wanted. To want in return; but also having to walk away and to restrain yourself from turning back. The past had taught me enough to which extent shall I bear being around someone.

And yet... I miss his presence.

I closed my eyes to recall the good moments we shared. I tried hard... but suddenly tears trickled down my already sunken cheeks. I can only recall us arguing. And the sound of my breath as I hyperventilate from disappointment and sadness.

For every ounce of effort wasted on me. I apologise.

For every penny spent on me. I apologise.

For every milisecond sacrificed for me. I apologise.

For immeasurable false hope I had given you and your family. I apologise.

For having such an elaborate dark past. I apologise.

For my mental instability. I apologise.

My remaining strength is all invested on my job. It is in this that I find solace, despite its chaos and complexity. It is in this that I feel that I am worthy of something good. That I have value.

And with you, I feel like I worth less than a trash. When brushing me off over something uncertain becomes easy... that's when I know that I have lost the glitter I used to possess which caught your eyes seven months ago.

I had gone through so much for a person of my age.

I am just a human. How many times can I mend my heart just to have it shattered into pieces over and over again before it turns into pulp which is beyond repair?

The little weight I had gained during my stay in Egypt is lost just like that. The spine on my back is obvious. My ribs are showing. My hip bones are jutting out. My chin looks as if someone did a bad genioplasty with it from being too prominent.

I wake up everyday feeling nauseous and experiencing chest tightness. I am starving. I want to eat. I want to eat so bad, I cry everyday because my tummy seems to reject food everytime I try to fill it a bit. Even if just a little bit.

Sad memories keep replaying in my mind that I am forced to sleep to let my brain relax a bit.

Every pace is a strive. It feels like trying to walk through a swamp with thick mud pulling my legs from striding forward.

This feels terrifyingly familiar. The thought of experiencing the same thing I did seven years ago is so terrifying...

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

the one wish

Woke up this morning feeling my calves aching as usual from prolonged standing and running here and there during work.

I no longer have my spirits up to cook for breakfast. I only have little strength to cook for lunch. So I've been having cereals in the morning for three days now. 


I looked at my handphone. It's a reminder I have long set in my organiser. An occasion I had been looking forward to. Suddenly, my eyes welled up. I have no idea how many meals have I cried over. How fast did time fly? It's back to being alone again, but still... eventhough it was me who walked away, I have my reasons. Eventhough it is painful to me, after gathering every ounce of courage I had left after that three years of darkness in my life, everything shattered into pieces.

And still, I am going to wish you...

Happy birthday. I truly wish only good things to happen in your life

... although it's the other way round with mine.

Monday, March 6, 2017

handle with care

Like a bird; Handle me with care, and I'd fly high, but no matter how far I go, I'd eventually return to you. Hold me too tightly, and I'd be strangled. You'd snap my wings and neck. 

After all, I have too many scars which run deep into layers of my muscles if not through-and-through. And to have someone else dissecting through them, being curious what caused them, I feel my wounds reopening.

So yesterday, I chose to walk away. I gambled too much for too long, putting my sanity at stake. So while I can still think rationally, I walked away.

It's time to recover.

I somehow managed to get a few affairs settled today. Thank God.

Oh Allah, grant me strength...