exorcise the demons

In my previous post, I wrote about how I feel it’s time to reconcile with the memories I had with my mother and family. And last night, as I was lying on the bed trying to will myself to sleep, it dawn to me that as a reflection of who I am, I should begin writing about myself.It’s ironic.

When I named the blog, I didn’t really know what kind of battles I’m facing. I thought they will be just ordinary life obstacles. But now I know better. To move on with my life, I have to exorcise the invisible demons in my head. There are two sides of me. The good in me wanted to feel that I belong somewhere and experience the love I once had. The evil side of me are the ones that are holding back. They’re the one who refused to remember the things I had with my family, be it good or bad.

Deep in my heart, I know that I am still in denial. It’s not easy to come to term with it because denial was the only way I know how to survive. Even after all these years. I never told anyone my fears and my anguish. Everyone thought that I was always happy because all they saw was the smile plastered on my face.

When I first started this blog, it wasn’t because of the need to spill all the beans. It was just a trend, then it became a place I can write without having to censor anything. I started writing about my family, but I found that I wasn’t able to express myself properly. However, I realized it’s therapeutic to get it out of my system or to speak to someone. To tell someone of our insecurities and fears and to share good times and love and happiness. It feels good to let the emotion in you runs free and to let go of the darkest thought. I just don’t know how.

I never had someone to listen to me, maybe because I always held back. I was afraid that if they know my thoughts, I will lose their friendships. Just as I lost my parents. How naïve of me to think that. So, I showed them the other side of me, who wasn’t affected by the incidents that happened in my life. I portrayed myself as the strong person who cannot be touched emotionally.

I distanced myself from friends and family. I didn’t want to see them for a lot of reasons. Friends, because I don’t want to tell them what was happening in my life or my job. Family, because I don’t want them to know what I was up to or nag at me. I kept the social life apart, and I avoided going home.

As far as I can remember, I only broke down in tears once. Weird considering that I am a very sensitive person. I can easily cry when I listen to a song, or when I saw an ad. Dammit! I even cry watching Extreme Home Makeover and those two ladies Trinny and Susannah. Yet, I am unable to feel anything about my own life. How pathetic am I?

Maybe I was ashamed of who I am. Maybe I was just stupid. Or maybe I was still dealing with my loss. There’re so many maybes. Was I ashamed because I was just a kampong girl? Was I ashamed because I didn’t score 3.8 GPA? And for how long do I have to deal with the loss before I come to my senses?

I won’t promise anything. This will be a long journey. I want to remember everything. I want to write about my family. I want to tell the whole world that I do have a family even though I hardly went home or included them in my life before. I want to write about a few selective wonderful friends I have, who became more than just friends. Two entities who love me for who I am and accept me with all my excess baggage. I want to remind myself that I should be grateful that I still have them with me and thankful with what I have.

I shall be true to myself and I shall use this to heal the pains in my heart. This is my story. And today, I don’t want to forget anymore.