Read This When You Want To Give Up

 I keep listing the reasons why I can't kill myself. And each day it gets shorter. Still, I live. Liking my job, taking care of others, set goals, and actually achieved it. All while still wanna die. So I try to understand, what's exactly in my brain. What's I'm looking for. What's the drive that gets me up every morning. Why I'm in constant pain. Maybe I'm just dramatic, a little bit melancholy. I know what I want is for the pain to stop. And I need to know where the bleeding is to stop it. What and who hurts me. Or No matter what and who, when and how, I need to accept and forgive. Forgive that I can't change the past, I can't change people. Accept that I only can control myself. To tough up and not let it hurts. Maybe this is not about me. Maybe the what and the who weren't aware that they hurt me. It's like a circle. While they tried to protect themselves, they unintentionally hurt others. The fact that I wanna die since 4th grade and sti

The Color of Heart is Black

I'm losing track of how many days passed since mom passed away. It's still surreal. Like she's on vacation and would come home anytime. I really don't wanna talk about my feeling, I don't want people to analyze me with seven stages of grief. I don't want awkward sympathy or hugs. I've not buried myself at work so I don't feel. But every time it's hurt. More than ever. And every time it's sad, sadder than never.

The only two people I love more than my life are ma and lil sis. The reason for my money madness. My life purpose to give them an easy life. To never feel pain like I did. To never see the dark side of humans. Not because they're fragile, but because I need them to be happy.

Once I heard a saying, 'Don't ask for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulder'. And I believe that Allah knows how far my strength is. But sometimes there were nights when I cry myself to sleep. Life without ma feels hollow. Of course, I don't have anyone to talk to. Even when I did, when I gather my trust for them to share a piece of my scar, the only response I got was 'sabar ya'.

So I drift away. I shut myself once again like in 2008. My heart bleeding. My eyes were numbing. There was a time I can't feed myself because every food reminds me of ma. And I was choked with my own tears. The only reason I finally able to eat again was because I know, I can't afford to be sick. I don't have ma to pamper me.

Life's goes on. None of my family move on. We still can see scars in our eyes. We're scattered. Lost. Floating without an anchor. Never they see my tears.

Ma was everything. Losing her makes me meaner, colder, ignorant. It changes everything in me. Don't have any desires. My future life image was broken. And I haven't found the way to fix it yet.

I'm not okay. I'm never okay. But we agree to use a mask in public, weren't we?