Tuesday, August 13, 2019

It’s as if a tsunami is taking place inside me; yet I’ve to remain composed for the sake of behaving normally to blend in well with society.

It’s as though these feelings have to be suppressed in order for me to look normal, I’d be deemed as abnormal if these emotions are out of the bag.

As a result, I found new means to express these feelings - and I changed, for the worst.

Impatient. Temperamental. Emotional.

I wasn’t aware until I realise people around me were getting constantly hurt by my actions and words. I couldn’t control them. 

I say things that hurt, I push people away but at the end of the day, I realise it wasn’t my intention to bring hurt to people I love, but the bitterness has gotten the best of me. I love them dearly, they make up the bits and pieces of the light in my darkness.

Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning but I am my own lifebuoy too, forced to keep myself afloat but the chains get heavier and heavier... I will drown, soon.

When will life get better again?
 F-k you 2019.

Show me the Light, God

Thursday, May 30, 2019

My head is in a very dark place now.

Sinking deeper and deeper as each day passes by. Why is Papa not awake yet?

"His organs are failing. His skin is breaking down. His brain showed no signs of activity for the past 11 days. Focus on spending the last moments with him."

It wasn't like that 2 weeks ago.
Papa held my hands at 10pm on 17th May.

"Girl, faster go home. It's late.. See me tomorrow ok? You always don't bear to leave me one leh."

It was true.

Over the span of 28 days my father's been hospitalised, I didn't like the idea of telling him goodnight and leave him in the dark wards of the hospital.

We'd tell him "goodnight" and then make our way to the hallway of the ward but I'd always turn back and walk towards his bed again just to make sure he was okay, that he was comfortably tuck in bed.

The unfortunate event on May 18 keeps on playing over and over in my head, haunting me every f-king night. The curtains all drawn, the group of nurses and doctors gathered over him. My brother burying his head into his knees and crying. My mum weeping. His heart stopped for two times.

Why didn't you wait for us Pa?

I will never come to terms with what has happened to Papa, this shouldn't have happened to him. He don't deserve this.

Papa and I were just talking about "code blue" a few weeks back. It sounded scary. But I was so certain it wouldn't happen to him. But it did.

It's easy for the staffs to tell us to move on, it's easy to say that he's probably not going to make it and we've to learn to take care of ourselves. It's easy to allocate more social workers and counselors to provide emotional support for us. But it can never, ever repair a broken heart. A heart that's been shattered into million pieces, knowing that Papa is in this state and the chances of him recovering are close to 0.1%, "unless a miracle happens" - as quoted by them.

Talk is cheap. How do I move on when I haven't fulfilled my duties as his daughter?
We've got a long way to go, a long journey to embark together, he has to be there for us during our milestones..

It pains me so much; and each day only gets worst. I need him back.
What does he need? Platelets? Ok I give. An additional kidney? Take mine.

It seems like we've hit a wall. If given dialysis, he may not make it through. If not given dialysis, the toxins will eventually accumulate and his body will shut down still.

I don't know... What do you want God?

I'm not sure what will happen if You ever take Papa away from us, away from me.

Tell me God.. How do I take this pain away? Will you spare his life and return him back to us?
Please, God. 

Hello Papa Png

Thursday, May 23, 2019

7 days ago - 16th May:

Papa's face lit up when he saw Gerald and I walking into Ward 36. We were holding a helium balloon, and a cake sat on his bedside table.

It was his birthday, 16th May and though that'd be the very last place we'd want to celebrate his birthday at, it was the least we could do to bring a smile to his face. He's been in the hospital for the past 28 days, and we can't wait for him to be discharged.


Fast forward to right now, 23rd May:
Papa is now lying in the ICU - fighting for his life. Less than 48 hours from 16th May, he went into a cardiac arrest. It was all so sudden.

On Friday night, Papa still told us, "See you guys tomorrow.. Faster go home. Buy my favourite wanton mee tomorrow ok?"

He didn't even get to see us on Saturday. He didn't even get to eat his favourite wanton mee from Pasir Ris Hilltop hawker centre. Why?

I love him so much - despite the years of bickering, deep down I know he has always wanted the best for us. He wanted us to go to church with him on Sundays. He wanted us to go travel together as a family. He wanted Gerald and me to get along well. He prayed for us and loved us so, so much.

I miss talking to him.. I miss telling him about my day, I'd rush to the hospital after work for fear he'd be alone, and I wanted to spend dinnertime with him. I wanted to know how was his day - what happened during the day, if he'd had a hearty lunch, if anyone bullied him or how many times he's gone to the toilet.

My temper is the worst in the family, and I believed my ill-temperedness took after him a little. I stood up whenever I feel something is not right, and I'd always say whatever's on my mind - no matter what.

When I got my heart broken, he was so upset and told me I deserved better. When I needed help to set up my very first flea, he drove my luggages down and stood there the entire day to sell my clothings with me despite no knowledge of girls' clothings, etc.

There're so many things I want to do with you, my dearest Pa. I want to come home to see you sitting at the living room, watching your favourite TV dramas and eating dinner. I want you to ask me to help you to switch off the bedroom lights. I want to hear you encouraging me to chase after my dreams.


God, if you love my father and if you love us, please give him a chance at life again and restore youth and life back to his organs again.


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