The first post of 2014 and it starts with a very bitter taste. Today most probably is the worst day of 2014 so far. Fittingly so I guess since it is Monday. I woke up early hoping to finish work and gym early so that I can ride the bus back and the plan failed. So, being stingy and all I decided to walk like I always do. With more than 30 minutes between me and my destination, there is plenty of time to think. And boy, did I overthink things. In that time span I have cursed gods, ghosts, people, dogs, taxi drivers and evil shopkeepers. All the 'if's start to pour out like a broken dam and the bitterness just builds. If only I am rich, if only I did not get into an accident, if only my motor is alright, if only I was a bit earlier. Regrets, disappointments and just plain hatred. Let it simmer for a bit.
Here comes the bomb though. I was actually stupid enough to question my family's spending during the daily phone call. I could not kick myself enough for that. I have failed myself. I was supposed to be the bastion, to be entirely dedicated to the well-being of my family in Ipoh without question. Without doubts. Now I have cracked. Basically I lost to life. I lost to a higher being, or a god that is trying to make a point. Point taken now. You win. I have nothing left against you. If this is karma, then I hope what I did was worth it. This life or previous. Of course you would argue this is too light to be karma. I am making things too dramatic. Perhaps you are right. I feel I am alone in this issue. I feel that there is no win-win scenario. To you, I am making things difficult for myself. But this is the only way I know how to live.
Have you ever been so angry that you would wonder how it feels like to hit whoever or whatever it is that set the circumstances up for you? Maybe I am trying to avoid the problem, blaming something else. However, nobody else knows me enough to tell me otherwise properly either. I often end up quarreling with people that try to help because I feel they do not know anything and they act like a jerk offering solutions like a know-it-all would. Of course the solutions work for them, so it should work for me right? Wrong. There are many things that you feel comfortable doing and I do not. Sure, I am the one in trouble now so beggars can't be choosers right? Yes, I choose to find a better way. And thus, I got my ass handed back to me on a silver platter just to make it extra ironic.
Fine then. I won't be going on my vacation anytime soon. I will work towards finding money so that I do not feel anything when my family needs more. No cars, no bros, no chicks right? Fine then. I will accept it and live on my own, walking all over the city chasing after public transportation. Whatever the god or power decrees, I will just take it now. At least for the rest of tonight. Maybe I will just reset myself tomorrow. When things got bottled up for a while with nowhere to go, it tends to explode in a disgusting mess sometimes. I would rather to do this every few months or so than to bash somebody for no apparent reason and then regret about it in prison. I really have to see a shrink or at least a friend who is good at listening. Don't you dare to volunteer dear reader. The very reason why I am blogging right here right now is because there is no such friend in my social circle yet.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Friday, November 22, 2013
There is only darkness. My accident finale!
Hopefully this is the final post. I am getting sick of reliving those awful days myself. I chose those words as the title because it was my answer to a question from a friend. I was asked if I ever had anyone in mind during my road to recovery, or is there a motivational figure for me. Well, there is no one. Who can I call 3 in the morning when I was suffering so much that I could not sleep? Who can I call to help me open the toilet door when my palm is still leaking plasma? I am thankful to have friends helping me to buy food but there is nobody who can ease my pain. My parents at Ipoh cannot do anything except try to understand my situation through the phone and give words of encouragement. Who can feed me when I could not hold a spoon properly and food drops out of my swollen lips? In that short amount of time, I found out how my life could be so much worst.
Does that mean I am glad to be alive? Yes, but I am still bitter at being injured. What did other people pay to avoid being injured? What was the price? Could I afford it? Is it as simple as buying a car or it is my fate to be injured either way? During the first night, I could barely sleep. The swelling was so horrible I could not move my fingers without being in pain. I honestly thought I was going to lose my baby finger because it was injured at the joints and it looked horrible. I went through tissue papers as I struggled to keep my wounds clean and sterilized. My thoughts wander about problems I will face when nature calls. I threw them away and concentrate on dealing with things one at a time. With wounds on both my palm and the back of my hands, I have no way of putting them down. There was no correct way to sleep.
I will wake up every other hour while checking my wounds and keeping my thirst or hunger in check. The painkiller is useless. I wish I had alcohol solution or something to numb the pain, at least for me to drink water. Time passed by slowly. I could not concentrate on the drama series I continuously play to keep myself occupied. The pain is constantly reminding me that things are not all right. Why, I started asking. Why me? Why now? If I was late a bit or early a bit things might be different. I would be sleeping now, and the next day will be just another day at the office and the gym. I could not even bring myself to cry. The hatred and anger were overwhelming as I curse silently, thoughts occupying every waking moment. As dawn breaks, I figured I just need to do this a few more nights.
Toilet is a horrible test. Cleaning up is a miracle. I was in a mess. Bloody, smelly and definitely unsightly. As I endured the pain of my wounds on the chin and inner lips, food and water drips through the swelling. I am embarrassed of myself. I could not look at the mirror for long. I admit I was narcissistic but only as motivation for my gym pursuits. And there was nothing I can do about it. None of my knowledge, my strength, my experience could help me. Only time and sustenance. And a whole tanker of patience and faith. Trust in the fact that everything will be alright. If I endure another night I will be closer to full recovery. I will regain everything that I have lost. Things will be back to normal again. I console myself as I see scabs forming. But the road to recovery is indeed long. And sad. The only time I knelt down was when I dropped my last egg, realizing the fact that I am not capable of even holding an egg. Not able to provide for myself. I am useless.
I could not bear to bring myself into the public. I do not know how to deal with the unwanted attention. I could not even eat properly. Nobody understands my situation. Friends joke about it. Asking me to go show how manly I was. It was so disappointing. Like I said, only darkness. I cannot live on others forever so I decided to go get my own food once I could walk properly and my hands can actually hold something. I only carry a single RM10 note knowing food is not that expensive and I could not defend my wallet if someone decides to rob me. My eyes were wary as they met with the stares of others. I tried to make my journey as quick as possible. Sometimes to the extent of reopening wounds. Somehow physical pain is easier to deal with than shame. What kind of lesson in life is this? What can I possibly gain from this? Compassion for the injured and handicapped? A test? What do I gain from scoring an A?
If this is preparation for something or part of a bigger plan, I cannot possibly see a good ending here. This was a tough journey for me. Again, having to go through it mostly alone, I bury myself deeper, losing trust in people, losing faith in my so-called friends. People who preach about love, understanding and care seems to be living in a different world altogether. In fact, it might even be. We cannot accept things fully without experiencing it ourselves first. Maybe it was all just a lie? Of course you may rebuke me, but maybe my suffering, my feelings, my thoughts are simply hogwash to you, for the very same reason. I can understand why you do not understand. And I hope you will too. I still have much to say but I guess this writing saga has to come to an end. I do not intend to share pictures of my raw wounds to avoid disgusting people, so here is a photo of my recovering hand and knee I shared on Facebook. It is actually expected if you think the wound is not as serious as my writing, but there is no way I could convince you otherwise. I am definitely in a better place now. It felt rather good writing, so I hope you enjoy reading as well.
Does that mean I am glad to be alive? Yes, but I am still bitter at being injured. What did other people pay to avoid being injured? What was the price? Could I afford it? Is it as simple as buying a car or it is my fate to be injured either way? During the first night, I could barely sleep. The swelling was so horrible I could not move my fingers without being in pain. I honestly thought I was going to lose my baby finger because it was injured at the joints and it looked horrible. I went through tissue papers as I struggled to keep my wounds clean and sterilized. My thoughts wander about problems I will face when nature calls. I threw them away and concentrate on dealing with things one at a time. With wounds on both my palm and the back of my hands, I have no way of putting them down. There was no correct way to sleep.
I will wake up every other hour while checking my wounds and keeping my thirst or hunger in check. The painkiller is useless. I wish I had alcohol solution or something to numb the pain, at least for me to drink water. Time passed by slowly. I could not concentrate on the drama series I continuously play to keep myself occupied. The pain is constantly reminding me that things are not all right. Why, I started asking. Why me? Why now? If I was late a bit or early a bit things might be different. I would be sleeping now, and the next day will be just another day at the office and the gym. I could not even bring myself to cry. The hatred and anger were overwhelming as I curse silently, thoughts occupying every waking moment. As dawn breaks, I figured I just need to do this a few more nights.
Toilet is a horrible test. Cleaning up is a miracle. I was in a mess. Bloody, smelly and definitely unsightly. As I endured the pain of my wounds on the chin and inner lips, food and water drips through the swelling. I am embarrassed of myself. I could not look at the mirror for long. I admit I was narcissistic but only as motivation for my gym pursuits. And there was nothing I can do about it. None of my knowledge, my strength, my experience could help me. Only time and sustenance. And a whole tanker of patience and faith. Trust in the fact that everything will be alright. If I endure another night I will be closer to full recovery. I will regain everything that I have lost. Things will be back to normal again. I console myself as I see scabs forming. But the road to recovery is indeed long. And sad. The only time I knelt down was when I dropped my last egg, realizing the fact that I am not capable of even holding an egg. Not able to provide for myself. I am useless.
I could not bear to bring myself into the public. I do not know how to deal with the unwanted attention. I could not even eat properly. Nobody understands my situation. Friends joke about it. Asking me to go show how manly I was. It was so disappointing. Like I said, only darkness. I cannot live on others forever so I decided to go get my own food once I could walk properly and my hands can actually hold something. I only carry a single RM10 note knowing food is not that expensive and I could not defend my wallet if someone decides to rob me. My eyes were wary as they met with the stares of others. I tried to make my journey as quick as possible. Sometimes to the extent of reopening wounds. Somehow physical pain is easier to deal with than shame. What kind of lesson in life is this? What can I possibly gain from this? Compassion for the injured and handicapped? A test? What do I gain from scoring an A?
If this is preparation for something or part of a bigger plan, I cannot possibly see a good ending here. This was a tough journey for me. Again, having to go through it mostly alone, I bury myself deeper, losing trust in people, losing faith in my so-called friends. People who preach about love, understanding and care seems to be living in a different world altogether. In fact, it might even be. We cannot accept things fully without experiencing it ourselves first. Maybe it was all just a lie? Of course you may rebuke me, but maybe my suffering, my feelings, my thoughts are simply hogwash to you, for the very same reason. I can understand why you do not understand. And I hope you will too. I still have much to say but I guess this writing saga has to come to an end. I do not intend to share pictures of my raw wounds to avoid disgusting people, so here is a photo of my recovering hand and knee I shared on Facebook. It is actually expected if you think the wound is not as serious as my writing, but there is no way I could convince you otherwise. I am definitely in a better place now. It felt rather good writing, so I hope you enjoy reading as well.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
End of day(s?). My accident pt 3
As I approached my colleague who was just finishing up at the pharmacy counter, I can't help but wonder if there is something wrong with the hospital. True to my lowered expectations, I only get a bottle of yellow lotion and some second rate painkillers. More on that later. We remembered we needed to make a police report as well so we headed to the police box located near the entrance of the hospital. The officer was kind enough to assist me filling in the details and what I have to do next. Things were smooth for once. Apparently, we can only file a preliminary police report at the police box and the final report requires some sort of interview or perhaps interrogation by the inspector in charge at the headquarters we went to earlier.
Now that we have a destination, we can work towards it. My colleague went to get his car while I headed to the entrance to wait for him. Suddenly there was an insane amount of pain as sunlight fried my exposed flesh. Perhaps I get one step closer to understanding vampires. As I tried to find shelter, I could only hope for my colleague to come quickly. The pain was not exactly the usual throbbing pain or the pain of holding something hot. This is an entirely new and unpleasant pain. In half a day, I have experienced things beyond my wildest dreams. I only wish for the day to be over as soon as possible. Thankfully he arrived, I got on, but much to my dismay, the sunlight gets into the car as well. I can only suffer in silence.
At the headquarters, the same thing happened, only this time I feel a bit better. Had to answer questions from a different set of curious bystanders and I proceeded with my business. A somewhat disgruntled looking officer asked me to sit and wait for my turn. I can understand that he must be sick of his job, dealing with so many people, so many cases and so many bullshit everyday but I have a pretty bad day too. As I try to be understanding, I sat there patiently and try to think of what to say later. My turn came, I explained and he pointed me to the inspector's office. My colleague also came in the front door and I just asked him to wait as I headed to the office. I guess I cannot expect a more welcoming experience since the earlier reception was sour at best. Long story short, I got things done, report printed but he mentioned I have to get my motorbike photographed at the headquarters. I didn't think about it much then, and even now, more than 3 weeks later, I still did not bother.
For the first time I felt relieved and we decided to go check on my motorcycle at the accident site. Journey was uneventful, and my colleague managed to find my bike under the care of one of the construction workers over there. Sometimes there are goodness in this world. He also managed to ask a reserve police office if I remember correctly about the photograph and the officer said they only will send people to take photographs if there is a death. Otherwise, the photograph needs to be taken at the headquarters. The next plan of action is to head back home. I phoned another colleague and he agreed since he lives nearby and it is already four in the evening. We headed into the parking lot and I jumped cars. As expected, the second colleague was very much surprised at my bloody condition. I explained everything as we approach my rented room.
I have not much idea how I managed to open the door and everything, but I did. I waved him goodbye and finally have the chance to take a good look at myself and my injuries. Then I took pictures and sent it to my mum's e-mail so she knows my current condition. Next, is the very painful part. Removing my clothes. It was hard avoiding the injured areas and some are still wet due to the severity of it. Here comes the hellish part. Please jump this paragraph and the next if you like to envision words. I have the stupid idea of rinsing my wounds. Yes, thinking of it already hurts a lot. But I felt it has to be done. To clean the wounds before finally leaving it to heal. I feel queasy myself thinking about it now.
With a crazy look in my eyes, I ripped the bandages apart. It has started to stick to my wounds. This disgusting sight is nothing new since I have plenty of experience with it from my first accident. As I stare at the slimy flesh I can only hope I am doing the right thing. Standing in front of the bathroom, I steel myself and went in. I slowly turn on the water, staring at the shower head as if it is raining lava. It might as well be. I jumped in, ducked my head and grit my teeth. The shock of water hitting my wounds is a very familiar feeling and I brace myself as I turned the water off. The pain arrived and I tried to keep myself calm as my heartbeat elevated. I trembled as I grabbed tissues to dab at my wounds, trying to absorb moisture as well as dirty blood. The pain was horrible. I could only wait it out.
As time passed, I felt relatively better again and slumped in front of my computer. I tried to get online and get in touch with people, alerting those who need to know. I think I phoned my mum via speakerphone and spoke to her about my situation. She mentioned that they are thinking of heading down to fetch me. But the family car is old and it is a very risky proposition. They are not sure where I was living either. Once that is done, I switched my attention to food and drinks. I have to boil water myself and eat something. With injuries on my chin, both palms and the back of my hands. This is going to be hell I told myself. But I have to survive. I have to because that is the thing I should do. I do not have a lot of people to rely on over here. This is the biggest problem of living alone, far from any relatives.
Unfortunately, the day is far from over. The pain that came at night, the very first night, is a few times worst than the pain from the water. Within the span of those several hours, until I could finally close my eyes due to exhaustion, I can only wish for salvation that never came. Next part will come soon. I never plan the contents ahead so if it is the last part, I will include some pictures of my current situation. It is very much better now.
Now that we have a destination, we can work towards it. My colleague went to get his car while I headed to the entrance to wait for him. Suddenly there was an insane amount of pain as sunlight fried my exposed flesh. Perhaps I get one step closer to understanding vampires. As I tried to find shelter, I could only hope for my colleague to come quickly. The pain was not exactly the usual throbbing pain or the pain of holding something hot. This is an entirely new and unpleasant pain. In half a day, I have experienced things beyond my wildest dreams. I only wish for the day to be over as soon as possible. Thankfully he arrived, I got on, but much to my dismay, the sunlight gets into the car as well. I can only suffer in silence.
At the headquarters, the same thing happened, only this time I feel a bit better. Had to answer questions from a different set of curious bystanders and I proceeded with my business. A somewhat disgruntled looking officer asked me to sit and wait for my turn. I can understand that he must be sick of his job, dealing with so many people, so many cases and so many bullshit everyday but I have a pretty bad day too. As I try to be understanding, I sat there patiently and try to think of what to say later. My turn came, I explained and he pointed me to the inspector's office. My colleague also came in the front door and I just asked him to wait as I headed to the office. I guess I cannot expect a more welcoming experience since the earlier reception was sour at best. Long story short, I got things done, report printed but he mentioned I have to get my motorbike photographed at the headquarters. I didn't think about it much then, and even now, more than 3 weeks later, I still did not bother.
For the first time I felt relieved and we decided to go check on my motorcycle at the accident site. Journey was uneventful, and my colleague managed to find my bike under the care of one of the construction workers over there. Sometimes there are goodness in this world. He also managed to ask a reserve police office if I remember correctly about the photograph and the officer said they only will send people to take photographs if there is a death. Otherwise, the photograph needs to be taken at the headquarters. The next plan of action is to head back home. I phoned another colleague and he agreed since he lives nearby and it is already four in the evening. We headed into the parking lot and I jumped cars. As expected, the second colleague was very much surprised at my bloody condition. I explained everything as we approach my rented room.
I have not much idea how I managed to open the door and everything, but I did. I waved him goodbye and finally have the chance to take a good look at myself and my injuries. Then I took pictures and sent it to my mum's e-mail so she knows my current condition. Next, is the very painful part. Removing my clothes. It was hard avoiding the injured areas and some are still wet due to the severity of it. Here comes the hellish part. Please jump this paragraph and the next if you like to envision words. I have the stupid idea of rinsing my wounds. Yes, thinking of it already hurts a lot. But I felt it has to be done. To clean the wounds before finally leaving it to heal. I feel queasy myself thinking about it now.
With a crazy look in my eyes, I ripped the bandages apart. It has started to stick to my wounds. This disgusting sight is nothing new since I have plenty of experience with it from my first accident. As I stare at the slimy flesh I can only hope I am doing the right thing. Standing in front of the bathroom, I steel myself and went in. I slowly turn on the water, staring at the shower head as if it is raining lava. It might as well be. I jumped in, ducked my head and grit my teeth. The shock of water hitting my wounds is a very familiar feeling and I brace myself as I turned the water off. The pain arrived and I tried to keep myself calm as my heartbeat elevated. I trembled as I grabbed tissues to dab at my wounds, trying to absorb moisture as well as dirty blood. The pain was horrible. I could only wait it out.
As time passed, I felt relatively better again and slumped in front of my computer. I tried to get online and get in touch with people, alerting those who need to know. I think I phoned my mum via speakerphone and spoke to her about my situation. She mentioned that they are thinking of heading down to fetch me. But the family car is old and it is a very risky proposition. They are not sure where I was living either. Once that is done, I switched my attention to food and drinks. I have to boil water myself and eat something. With injuries on my chin, both palms and the back of my hands. This is going to be hell I told myself. But I have to survive. I have to because that is the thing I should do. I do not have a lot of people to rely on over here. This is the biggest problem of living alone, far from any relatives.
Unfortunately, the day is far from over. The pain that came at night, the very first night, is a few times worst than the pain from the water. Within the span of those several hours, until I could finally close my eyes due to exhaustion, I can only wish for salvation that never came. Next part will come soon. I never plan the contents ahead so if it is the last part, I will include some pictures of my current situation. It is very much better now.
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