tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-105760202024-02-28T15:26:37.089+01:00easyWi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-67824914160101400172013-04-17T10:12:00.001+02:002013-04-17T10:31:14.822+02:00A flower, a smile and an endearing touch Some friends asked me why I loved to travel so much.<br />
I answered,"Travel reinforces my faith in humanity."<br />
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During my recent Japan trip, I went to a little suburb town to watch a local taiko performance (Japanese traditional drummers). I am kinda sure that I was the only foreigner present there, thanks to my Japanese friend who found this performance for me.<br />
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Long story short, after the performance I got a huge beautiful flower bouquet from the drummers. Since I was carrying my backpack, still having to find my way around the subway jungle and having a zero sense of aesthetic appreciation anyway, I gave the flowers to a beautiful passing by grandma wearing a kimono and her grandson with down syndrome.<br />
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The grandma smiled so sweetly and started talking to me in Japanese, and there I was frantically waving my hand saying "Nihhonjin janai." (I am not a Japanese). Then she smiled and said "Thank you."<br />
The grandson, seeing his grandma's smile, looked at me very intensely and started talking incoherently to me. I smiled at him, understanding nothing. Suddenly he took my hand in his and held it for some time.<br />
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Pure cuteness :)<br />
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Little kindness, beautiful strangers. Those things that matter :) <br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-1136215129491431082013-04-16T12:19:00.000+02:002013-04-17T12:21:37.934+02:00A Japanese Spring<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-60404730012502083352013-03-21T08:50:00.002+01:002013-03-27T05:32:57.567+01:00Falling in loveI forgot how beautiful my country is..<br />
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Krakatau, Pelabuhan Ratu, Situ Patengan Lake, Kawah Putih, Bali<br />
Photos stolen from John and TonyWi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-49468691325596790762013-03-19T08:12:00.000+01:002013-03-19T09:13:22.686+01:00Just another unimportant thoughtI just came back from visiting my best cousin and her one year old daughter, Clara.<br />
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This little angel lives in a very nice house in a nice neighborhood with several cars and a golden retriever. She is showered with love by her warmhearted parents, having imported german baby food and nutrition, attending the best multilingual school, simply said having the best education her parents can provide. She will probably inherit her dad's property and assets as well. In short, you can say she's a lucky girl whose future looks bright. As some cynical friends would say,"An upper class princess" :)<br />
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On the same day, I was having a late dinner with friends at a street side stall around 11 pm and there came a beggar lady carrying her child who was fast asleep. I couldn't help but think,"Why is this kid still out at this hour, on the street? He should be asleep at home." I thought of little Clara I just hugged 12 hours ago, who must be asleep in her cozy fluffy bed, hugging her favorite pink furry blanket. <br />
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The other kid will probably grow up on the street, lacking of education, maybe even the bare necessities, unable to have the privilege Clara will have in her life. The chance of the street kid being able to escape the poverty is not that big. What choice does he have? He has a mother who begs for a living, will grow up in a poor environment, where education is not a necessity. Who can we blame if staying alive is difficult enough? It's a vicious circle, poverty, lack of education, no good job. It's really sad, how Clara probably won't know what poverty is, being equipped with the proper education her parents can provide, whereas the beggar kid probably won't know either what it's like to be chauffeured around to school or to play with a golden retriever in his own backyard.<br />
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Their fate is sealed at birth. And you still wonder why I don't believe in a fair and just god?<br />
<br />
Apropos religious faith, a christian friend once snapped at me,"Why aren't you grateful to God? You're so lucky and yet here you are, an atheist!" <br />
"Well, I'm not claiming that there's no god. That's the definition of an atheist. I'm more of an agnostic: I do not know. And if you call me an atheist, you are one as well. There are so many gods in the history of human civilization, you are atheistic towards Ra and Zeus, aren't you? Why can't I be atheistic towards your Yahwe? And yes I'm lucky, but about others who aren't as lucky as me?"<br />
<br />
She: "God has his own justice we will never understand."<br />
<br />
Me: "You say so because you're high and mighty, we are international students in Germany. What about those children in war who can't go to school? Or maybe died in a bombing? Or those child soldiers who are forced to leave school, to kill and to rape?"<br />
<br />
She: "They have a choice. Those child soldiers have the choice to say no and just let the warlords kill them. If they choose to be alive and kill others then it's their own risk and ignorance. And how do you know that those children who die in the bombings aren't happy? Maybe it's better for them to be in heaven."<br />
<br />
I stared at her unbelievingly. WE can say some sh*t about choices, standing on a high pedestal, having choices ourselves. We are the privileged, who do indeed have choices. And other people are ignorant because they choose the only way they know?<br />
<br />
I used to call this christian girl 'an ignorant git' which I'm not proud of.. She didn't know any better, she's a privileged girl who has it easy in life. Not her fault. And I'm not right either. In a way, maybe she's somewhat right. Let me explain.<br />
<br />
There are always people who have it better and worse than us in life.<br />
I had beautiful rich people stroking me, saying,"Aww, poor you.. You have to go through so many surgeries? You have constant back pain? You can't wear high heels?"<br />
The "aww" goes on and I don't mind :) <br />
<br />
Whereas there are also many people telling me how lucky I am, having the chance to have a better education, travel all around, having many people who love me, etc.<br />
<br />
It really depends from which perspectives you're looking from.<br />
As for me, I see myself as a very lucky girl. I can't really relate to those people who are saying "poor Wi". Of course I can understand where they're coming from. But I never see myself as a 'poor' girl. <br />
I used to complain about the surgeries I had to go through until one day when I was around 13 years old, my dad just drove me home from the hospital and I was pouting in the car, and he suddenly pointed out at a beggar on the street, unable to walk, and said,"That was you." It turned out he has the same medical condition as I do, and there he was out on the street and there I was, sitting comfortably in a car, having my medical conditions surgically corrected and expensive medical bills paid by my hardworking dad. From that day on, I stopped complaining, and somewhat stopped believing in the god I was raised to believe in. From my point of view, he's not just nor good. Why can I afford expensive surgery costs and why can't the beggar on the street? Don't get me wrong. This is not bitterness. I've stopped asking a long time ago and embraced the fact that it's not mine to know. <br />
<br />
Anyway, maybe, just maybe, my friend was right in some way.. Maybe those children don't really see themselves as pitiable. Maybe it's just me wearing my pink lenses who pity and deem them as less fortunate than I am. Just as some people see me as less fortunate than they are.<br />
<br />
I think it all boils down to one thing. Maybe if we all can think of ourselves as lucky enough, then we all can still smile in spite of poverty, illness, etc. <br />
<br />
Ah, but what do I know? Just as the great Socrates once said,"Scio me nihil scire". I don't know. I really do not know. <br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-77925959521658640972013-03-13T10:04:00.003+01:002013-03-13T10:04:51.831+01:00We're fools whether we dance or notso we might as well dance !<br />
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<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-64076191589450123222013-03-13T08:10:00.000+01:002013-03-13T08:10:06.359+01:00About death A friend and I were talking about how we love Disney's the Lion King. "Hakuna Matata! Ain't no passing craze. It means no worries for the rest of your day, it's our problem free philosophy, hakuna matata!"<br />
<br />
Then he mentioned that he disliked the fact that Simba was singing this song a day after his father died. "I would be so sad."<br />
<br />
To this I answered,"But death is a natural part of life. People come and go, life goes on."<br />
He stared at me unbelievingly, "Oh wow, I can't believe you just said that."<br />
<br />
Ok, sue me. I'm heartless.<br />
I will be very sad as well when my dad passes away. He's the love of my life. (Notice the 'when' not 'if'. I intentionally chose the word as death is a certainty anyway.) But if I can let go in a day, I will. Not meaning any disrespect to him, but this is certainly what he himself wants. <br />
<br />
Many years ago my weird dad had told me what to do when he passes away. Where he wants to breathe his last breath out, the procession, etc. Initially I protested and complained, but he said,"This will happen sooner or later. Nothing to be afraid of nor avoided. You need to know this, this information is necessary." So I shut up and listened.<br />
<br />
I told my dad about my conversation with this friend and he laughed. He made me proud by stating the words I knew he would say anyway. "Life goes on. Let go."<br />
So yea, if I can dance a day after he passes away, I will certainly make him proud :) *though I seriously doubt if I can.<br />
<br />
Another friend asked me if I wanted to watch Habibie & Ainun, a supposedly very beautiful love story about our former president and his wife. I said no. I admit, I am judging a book by it's cover here, but when I saw the trailer of the movie, the president was crying beside the deathbed of his wife,"Ainun, don't leave me."<br />
I know this sounds normal and touching, but I thought to myself, why are we so selfish? Why can't we let our loved ones go in peace, trying to hold on to them eventhough it doesn't necessarily make them happy, only so that we won't experience pain of losing. I've read that many cancer patients at their final stage have actually embraced death peacefully, what makes it difficult for them is the crying family, not wanting them to go. It becomes a heavy burden for the patients, making them feel like a culprit for leaving their families behind.<br />
<br />
As for me personally, if I have to lose my loved ones, be it because of death or move, I will send them off gracefully. "Thank you for the beautiful moments we have shared, you have enriched my life. Good bye." <br />
And if I'm the one who have to leave my loved ones, I hope they will dance to the beat of reggae, enjoy a dry good wine and make a great bonfire out of me :) <br />
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<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-70795446156173367832013-03-04T06:42:00.000+01:002013-03-05T03:11:36.745+01:00About giving and receivingI have an aunt who always rejects every gift people want to send her. Her excuse is that she doesn't want to burden people and 'owe' people anything. At the first glance, it looks like independence, but as I see it, she's blocking people's happiness. <br />
<br />
I, on the other hand, as a backpacker with a decent level of shamelessness, received a lot of kindness (and gifts) from people. When I went backpacking /couchsurfing, I received free bed, free food, sometimes gifts, I got a free huge jar of honey from a bee farm owner in east Europe, a box of strawberries in a hot summer day in Paris, a beautiful shawl in a cold winter night in Seoul, expensive concert tickets, amusement park entrance tickets from people I didn't even know. I call them beautiful strangers :) Once I even got a free express train ride from Berlin to Stuttgart (which would cost me around 100 Euro). Well, I'm cheap, hehe, so I smiled and accepted everything. It's not that I wanted to extort any benefits from others, it's because I know the fact that it's nice to give. I really think we have a natural necessity to give.. Giving brings us happiness and I want the givers to be happy by accepting their kindness.<br />
<br />
I believe that we are all somehow connected in a circle. Yes, I owe the beautiful strangers their kindness, thats why I'll pay it forward to other beautiful strangers. Ironic as it is, the more I received, the more I can give.A Parisian strawberry seller who gave me a box of fresh strawberries in a hot summer day prompted me to give my snickers bar to a stranger I saw crying in a berliner subway. The smile on her teary face warmed the dim subway compartment. The free dinners I received made me buy a cheese burger for a hungry old homeless man. The free tickets I got made me give away my unused subway tickets to strangers wanting to buy their tickets at the machines.And it goes on in the circle.<br />
<br />
Once I organized a donation for an orphanage, I literally asked my friends to give, pestering them and extorting money from them. And they smiled, hugged me and said "Thank you for giving me a chance to give." It made me realize, we DO have a necessity to be kind and give.As I see it, the most depressed people are those who are self centered and always wanting to receive/take. <br />
<br />
A while ago, I read a story about Dalai Lama when he was still in Tibet. He used to travel to poor villages, accompanied sometimes by international journalists. During his travels, he always received gifts from people. Once he was in a very poor village, and an old lady, wearing torn off clothes gave him a skirt. The american journalist burst out in anger and told him,"You live in a golden palace, why did you receive this gift from this poor old lady who's in a much worse condition than yours? You preached about compassion and kindness, and what is this??" <br />
Dalai Lama answered,"Yes, But that woman needed to give me the skirt more than she needed to wear it."<br />
<br />
I used to refuse my mom's gifts as she likes to shower me with expensive things: diamonds, pearls, branded bags, etc, which I don't need. But then I thought to myself, maybe this is how she shows her love to me. So a few weeks ago, when she bought me a Tiffany bracelet, I smiled, hugged her and said thank you. <br />
<br />
In our society, we were always taught that we should give and not receive. But have we ever thought of enabling people to give? Making them feel happy by receiving their gifts, accommodating their needs, instead of our own ego/ 'independence'? Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-50283472023464545762013-03-03T22:30:00.000+01:002013-03-19T08:49:52.299+01:00Loving yourselfI went for coffee with a girlfriend a few days ago. She told me she recently joined a meditation group. She used to think she always had a problem in her love life.. She jumped from one guy to another guy, crushing on them and having her heart broken many times. She told her meditation guru about her problem and he said something that shook her to the core. "You know what your problem is? You don't love yourself." <br />
<br />
Now she has learned to love herself, accepting herself.. She smiled beautifully and said,"I used to try to impress people by dressing up, coming up with witty lines. But now I realize, I don't need to be as pretty as a model, or as smart as you, Wi. I am special in my own way and I don't care what people think about me. "<br />
<br />
The moment she said that, I replied,"I'm so glad you're finally there, girl. Welcome to insanity."<br />
<br />
I can relate so much to her.<br />
I didn't know how to love myself back then, jumping from one relationship to another. I couldn't stay single for more than a few months. My self worth depended on people who loved me. <br />
Because I didn't know how to be happy with myself, I relied on others to make me happy.. thus setting up expectations and forced people to comply to a set guideline "How to make Wi happy". And guess what, I was not happy either, I was disappointed all the time.<br />
<br />
Now that I've learned to love myself, I am happier than ever. I don't rely on other people to make me smile anymore. I sing and dance to the music coming from within, not caring about what people think about me. And the funny thing is that I start to love everyone unconditionally.. You can be as idiosyncratic as you can be, say mean things, and I won't hold grudges against you and will still accept you as you are.<br />
"You are who you are, it is what it is". Everything/ everyone is actually ok as it is, the one who puts label on everything is me. The moment I stop judging and trying to change things, everything falls perfectly in it's place.<br />
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Now I understand the meaning of the phrase "Love sets free". I won't hold on to people, forcing them to stay to make me feel happy or complete. As a matter of fact, I am complete, with or without them. Everyone (just like me) deserves to be happy as well, with or without me. Love is not blind, it sees (with utmost transparency) but does not judge, nor does it mind. <br />
<br />
A dear friend asked me,"Can I be like you? Just be myself, happy with myself and not caring about other people's opinions?"<br />
I asked back,"Are you still afraid of losing someone you love? Have you learned to let go?"<br />
He: "Yes, of course Im afraid of losing. Who doesn't? Isn't that normal?"<br />
Me: "Love wishes others the best, whatever it is. Fear of losing is ego, possessiveness."<br />
He: "I've lost someone I loved. Define letting go."<br />
Me: "Letting go is accepting everything that had happened, without blaming anyone (esp not yourself), and sincerely wishing that someone who had hurt you his/her happiness.. With or without you. No grudges whatsoever"<br />
He: "Can you?"<br />
Me: "Yes I can."<br />
<br />
When I stated "Yes I can", I realized, I am there :)<br />
<br />
Now that I'm enjoying the company of myself, funny thing happens. My friends request my company, and strangers want to get to know me.<br />
Loving yourself doesn't mean you're being arrogant and narcissistic, it only means you have the capability of loving others just as you love yourself..I am beautiful in my own way, and so are you all :)<br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-2121875222222318302013-02-21T09:01:00.000+01:002013-02-21T09:02:50.377+01:00Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Who doesn't know her? Frida Kahlo.<br />
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Most of her paintings are self portraits.<br />
"I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best"<br />
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The pop trend depicts her as a brave, feisty victim/heroine, broken down by tragedy after tragedy. Contracting polio at the age of 6, a fatal accident which led to a numerous surgeries, lifetime pain and complication, troubled marriage of 25 years to Diego Rivera, an renowned mural artist and a notorious womanizer. Diego was well known for being incapable of fidelity, having said,"It's just a fuck. I've given more affection in a handshake.", had numerous extramarital affairs, even with Frida's younger sister.<br />
She is the epitome of tragedy, victim of fate and male oppression, yet remains strong and tries to live life to the fullest extent.</div>
<br />
Being physically impaired and having numerous surgeries myself, I can relate to her very much. I love her fire, strength, optimism, and passion for life. But I would say she's a masochist, when it comes to heartache. She couldn't say no the the surgeries and pain, but she could've actually done something about Diego. But yet, as a supposedly strong woman, she begged for Diego's love, was promiscuous herself, went through some unnecessary surgeries to have his attention, and in the end was addicted to alcohol and drugs to suppress her physical and emotional pain.<br />
<br />
"There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley, and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst."<br />
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Dear Frida, I do admire you a lot, but Diego isn't an accident. It's your choice. You could've removed yourself from the situation, why did you choose to torture yourself? Love?<br />
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Ah well, it doesn't affect the fact that she's a great artist, anyway.<br />
Out of all her paintings, I love this one the most, it resonates a lot to me. <br />
"Arbol de la Esperanza, Mantente Firme" : "Tree of hope, remain strong." <br />
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<br />
She painted this self portrait after a blotched surgery.<br />
At day she was fragile, slumped on the surgery table with open wounds, but at the end of the day, there she was, sitting upright, proud and confident with her hands holding a spine corset she hoped to throw away and a flag saying "Tree of hope, remain strong."<br />
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"BROKEN COLUMN"<br />
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Pain, represented by nails piercing her entire body. The biggest nails represent the most severe pain, which is her heart. <br />
Broken spine.<br />
Tears<br />
Head held high.<br />
This is my favorite part: showing her sense of humor, she painted doves of peace in the pupils of the eyes.<br />
<br />
When the art critics called her a surrealist, she answered,"I never painted dreams or nightmares. I painted my own reality." <br />
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And when her leg had to be amputated, she wrote in her diary:<br />
"Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?" <br />
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<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-87612010560927735462013-02-21T06:44:00.000+01:002013-02-21T06:49:55.640+01:00Dali's Elephants<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Those who have ever been to my tiny apartment in Leipzig must have seen this Dali's repro hung on my wall.</div>
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Some commented that this painting depressed them, it is bleak, deserted and empty. Why would I hang this painting in the middle of my room? </div>
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They are right in a way, this does look depressing at a first glance, but I have a different feeling when I look at this absurdly surrealistic painting. I don't see emptiness there, I see imagination, difference, sky of possibilities. I see a beautiful sunset sky, opening up the the horizon. And look at the elephants, they are touching the sky.. They aren't supposed to be that high, are they? They're supposed to roam the ground, having huge heavy legs.. But look at them here, they aren't 'normal' elephants, they are different, that's why they can soar despite the heavy obelisks they're carrying on their backs. </div>
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Look closely at the people on the ground, they look like robots.. They are 'normal', complying to the set standards, yet so far from reaching the beautiful sunset sky. </div>
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Fyi, this painting was inspired by Bernini's sculpture of elephant and obelisk at the Roman church Santa Maria sopra Minerva (St Mary above (conquering) Minerva). I was there, hehe. </div>
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I've always loved Dali. He is so absurd, so original, he challenged the norms of normality. In his 'persistence of memory' I see how he changes the strict concept of time into melting clocks, representing the idea that time can be flexible, maybe incorporating Einstein's theory of relativity. </div>
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Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-52477108204568815852013-02-18T07:39:00.002+01:002013-02-18T08:53:22.990+01:00If you were to die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3oAKOSVQCS7cp8jObru9DGdbFqa5BpdvSMSxjbSR-4K2xjebn1cnXD7HN4215lBqWHDWBMaIO9V4ZNJ0NntkZeeL4McpshN9jj5XSB17rj1yndFk5vjzjhUAwKznHLT8BD8Ec/s1600/da.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3oAKOSVQCS7cp8jObru9DGdbFqa5BpdvSMSxjbSR-4K2xjebn1cnXD7HN4215lBqWHDWBMaIO9V4ZNJ0NntkZeeL4McpshN9jj5XSB17rj1yndFk5vjzjhUAwKznHLT8BD8Ec/s320/da.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
"He lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived."<br />
<br />
Most of us don't really know what we really want in life, what really matters and what makes us happy. Some think that owning a Hummer and a shiny Rolex is an achievement, others think being a high flying CEO matters much. Nothing wrong with that surely, passion and ambition are what makes us feel alive.<br />
<br />
One day a friend asked me out of sudden,"If you were to die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day?" Maybe people will give out different answers, but I answered,"I would surround myself with people I love, my family and friends." I can't thank him enough for waking me up. Now I know what matters most for me. <br />
<br />
My mom is currently refusing to sit <span style="font-size: small;">at</span> a same table to dine with us (my dad and me), because she feels ignored. Once we were dining out with her, my dad and I talked about business and religion, something she's not interested in. Since then she refuses to eat together with us and prefers to watch her korean drama during dinner time. It is actually sad how holding the grudges makes her miss some important moments. I can only think to myself,"This moment will not last forever. Someday we won't be able to sit around a table to have dinner anymore, why won't we make the best of it while we still can?" But if it makes her tick, then ok. I am not she, will never understand either. As of now, I will cherish every moment I have with the people I love, refusing to regret it only when it's too late.<br />
<br />
The question also helps me a lot in letting go of some minor annoyances. If I die tomorrow, does getting angry over ___ (fill in the blank) really matter?<br />
<br />
Just a thought. <br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-63713753240779038312013-02-17T08:18:00.000+01:002013-02-18T08:32:48.470+01:00The king's three questions 1. When is the most important time? Now<br />
2. Who is the most important person? The person you are with<br />
3. What is the most important thing to do? To do good to the person you are with<br />
<br />
A short story by Tolstoy <br />
Complete literature here:<br />
<a href="http://www.online-literature.com/tolstoy/2736/">The king's three questions - Tolstoy</a><br />
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I wish most people who are so absorbed in their smart phones while having quality time with their friends or families would read this ;) It's a pity how many times I saw a family or a group of friends, sitting at the same table but don't really talk to each other and are busy with their own phones. Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-15784844110647017162012-10-10T08:28:00.004+02:002013-02-21T06:47:58.256+01:00Elevator A girlfriend of mine recently met a stranger who told her,"I can see you're a very insecure person, who tries very hard to cover that up by acting confident and dressing stylishly."<br />
<br />
She was down for quite a long time and didn't dare looking in other people's eyes as she felt very insecure.<br />
<br />
I was fascinated at how easily she let her self worth be determined by some stranger's words.<br />
<br />
This is what I told her,"Our sense of security and self worth goes up and down sometimes. Even Gisele Buendchen can feel insecure at times, I'm sure. Maybe you were at a low point, and the stranger's words were somewhat true. But everyone can relate to insecurity. Why do you have to take it so personally? It happens to everyone, anyway. Imagine you failed a test, surely you would feel insecure of your ability but if you passed it with distinction, you would feel on top of the world. It's as simple as that."<br />
<br />
And she was happy again.<br />
<br />
I'm beginning to wonder, is this for real? Why do we care so much about what others, strangers think of us? Unfortunately she's not the only one.. Most people I know tick the same way. Isn't it a pity that people are so sound asleep?<br />
<br />
When will we stop standing in a closed elevator, in which people outside can press the elevator's level buttons and there we go up and down without control of our own elevator? When will we start learning to press the buttons ourselves? <br />
<br />
I know it's easier said than done. But I believe that practice makes perfect. <br />
<br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-5836994005757782812012-10-09T11:09:00.004+02:002012-10-09T11:09:55.709+02:00A little self reminderSaid the self-righteous preacher,<br />
"What, in your judgment, is the greatest sin in the world?"<br /><br />
"That of the person who sees other human beings as sinners,"<br />
said the Master.
Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-65308167289117800012012-09-02T10:13:00.000+02:002012-09-12T08:27:20.233+02:00Mentalitas Korupsi IndonesiaKemarin saya ke kelurahan dan kecamatan setempat untuk mengurus surat domisili perusahaan dan surat PM1/ surat pengantar. Saya perlu dokumen2 ini untuk aplikasi Surat Ijin Usaha di kantor walikota.<br />
<br />
Sesuai mentalitas dan budaya korupsi kita, oleh pegawai kelurahan, saya diminta untuk membayar biaya "administrasi' sebesar Rp 300.000.<br />
Berhubung saya sudah mendapat informasi dari kantor walikota Jakarta Pusat bahwa pengurusan surat-surat ini bebas biaya, saya menolak untuk membayar biaya tidak jelas ini dan berusahalah mereka mempersulit saya.<br />
<br />
Ibu pegawai kelurahan : Mbak, untuk mengeluarkan surat keterangan domisili ini Mbak harus melampirkan akte dari notaris ABC, surat ini dan itu.<br />
Saya kebetulan sudah membaca persyaratan aplikasi dokumen yang saya butuhkan di buku tata hukum pemda DKI Jakarta sehingga saya dapat menjawab bahwa dengan neraca dibawah sekian ratus juta dan investasi dibawah limit tertentu, saya tidak diwajibkan melampirkan akte notaris, surat ini dan itu.<br />
Ibu pegawai kelurahan : Masa sih? Saya baru dengar tuh.<br />
Saya : Iya Bu. Memang begitu hukumnya sesuai pasal sekian. Atau Ibu bisa langsung kontak Kanwil pusat untuk konfirmasi.<br />
<br />
Ibu pegawai kelurahan pun diam dan mengeluarkan dokumen yang saya minta. Masuklah saya ke kantor lurah untuk mengemis tanda tangan beliau yang mahal :)<br />
<br />
Pak wakil lurah, Sarjana sosial : Mbak tahu kan, dokumen ini ada biayanya?<br />
Saya : Tidak tahu tuh, Pak. Saya diberi tahu oleh kantor walikota sih tidak ada biayanya.<br />
PWL S.Sos : Iya memang, tapi saya tidak enak sama yang kerja disini, karena kita kan ada target bulanan, bla bla<br />
Saya : Pak, saya kan warga masyarakat yang membayar pajak. Dokumen ini adalah hak saya. Dan jika memang saya harus bayar, saya minta tanda terima resmi. Lagipula teman saya yang jurnalis Kompas dan sering meliput ke kelurahan dan kecamatan lain bersama KPK juga bilang bahwa dokumen ini tidak terkena biaya apa-apa.<br />
PWL S.Sos : ...... (diam, menandatangani dokumen saya). Ya udah, ini cap diluar sana ya Mbak.<br />
Saya : Iya. Terima kasih ya pak. <br />
<br />
Selesai di kelurahan, lanjutlah saya ke kecamatan.<br />
<br />
Terulanglah kejadian yang sama, saya dimintai biaya administrasi oleh mbak pegawai kecamatan yang masih muda dan cantik. <br />
<br />
Si mbak cantik : Ini, bu. Sudah dicap dokumennya. Tolong dilunasi biaya administrasi sebesar Rp 100.000<br />
Saya : Bayar ya, mbak? Kata kantor walikota pusat harusnya bebas biaya loh<br />
Mbak cantik : Ada biayanya koq Bu.<br />
Saya : Ok mbak. Tapi saya mau lihat daftar retribusi resminya ya Mbak, sama tanda terima dengan kop resmi.<br />
Mbak cantik : Ya sebenarnya ini bukan biaya administrasi resmi sih Bu.. Ini zakat yang nantinya akan ditransfer ke rekening kantor walikota.<br />
Saya : Oh, Zakat ya Mbak? Kalau begitu suka rela donk ya? Kebetulan nih Mbak, besok saya mau mengurus surat ke Kanwil. Saya bayar zakatnya langsung disana saja ya Mbak." (sambil senyum maniiiiis)<br />
Mbak cantik : Iya bisa Bu. (senyum kecut)<br />
Saya : Terima kasih, Mbak. (cabut dari tempat kejadian perkara)<br />
<br />
Sebut saya idealis, tapi saya tidak mau tunduk pada budaya korupsi disini. Saya membayar pajak sesuai kewajiban saya, menyuapi para pegawai pemerintahan bukan kewajiban saya. <br />
<br />
Yang lebih miris lagi adalah fakta bahwa para pegawai pemerintahan ini benar-benar tidak pandang bulu dalam memeras warga. Salah satu pegawai saya bercerita bahwa ia selalu diperas oleh pegawai kelurahan tiap kali mengurus surat, bahkan saat dia mengurus surat keterangan tidak mampu. Bayangkan, jelas-jelas maunya mengurus surat keterangan tidak mampu yang artinya ya dia tidak mampu, koq masih diperas? Aih Indonesia..<br />
<br />
Tapi saya cukup optimis deh sama masa depan Indonesia. Saat saya mengurus dokumen di tingkat birokrasi yang lebih tinggi seperti kantor dirjen pajak, kantor walikota, kantor imigrasi, komdak, tidak ada pungutan biaya liar tuh :) Saya tidak tahu apakah hal ini karena adanya kesadaran pribadi atau karena sorotan media. Apapun alasannya, hasilnya menyenangkan :) <br />
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<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-23018476359479934232012-09-02T08:44:00.000+02:002012-09-12T08:27:13.348+02:00Korban pemerasan yang memang suka diperasDi blog entry sebelumnya saya bercerita tentang praktek korupsi di kelurahan dan kecamatan.<br />
Nah sesudah kejadian usaha pemerasan ini saya bercerita kepada teman-teman saya. Intinya saya bilang kepada mereka, eh, ternyata bisa koq ngurus dokumen tanpa keluar uang sepeserpun.<br />
<br />
Tanggapan mereka yang negatif cukup mengejutkan.<br />
<br />
Salah satu teman bilang,"Kenapa ga lo tawar aja? Lo itu kan orang bisnis, harusnya lo bisa mikir untung rugi, bisa forward thinking. Ntar gara-gara lo belagu, kedepannya dipersulit. Lo kan harusnya bisa menempatkan diri. Harus banyak belajar deh lo tuh."<br />
<br />
Saya bengong. "Loh, kenapa saya harus menawar kalau memang sesuai hukum seharusnya bebas biaya?"<br />
"Saya harus banyak belajar apa? Mendukung praktek korupsi?" Dan bagaimana pegawai pemerintahan itu bisa mempersulit saya jika saya mengetahui undang-undang yang berlaku dan juga hak dan kewajiban saya sebagai warga.<br />
<br />
Teman satu lagi bilang,"Yaah, 100.000 doank, bayar aja lah, daripada ngotot-ngototan. Bukannya duit gede toh. Pelit amat deh lo. Lagian lo kan cina, kudu pinter nempatin diri donk sebagai minoritas. Udah biasalah kalo ngurus gituan mah pasti pake duit". FYI, dia cina juga.<br />
<br />
Saya jadi berpikir, pantas saja budaya korupsi berkembang subur di Indonesia. Lah wong yang dipalak aja demen dipalak.. Malah saya yang ga mau dipalak yang diomelin. Haha.<br />
Agak miris deh tapi.. Ok, kalau yang dipalak itu orang yang kurang tingkat edukasinya masih wajar, tapi teman-teman saya kan ngakunya lulusan luar, S2 lagi.<br />
<br />
Saya menyalahkan ignorance, kemalasan, zona nyaman/ kebiasaan, inferioritas, ketakutan yang memicu budaya "demen dipalak" ini.<br />
<br />
1. Ignorance<br />
Saya yakin teman-teman saya ini mungkin bahkan tidak tahu persyaratan dan tata cara pembuatan dokumen, apalagi dasar hukumnya. Selama ini pake duit, semua jadi. <br />
<br />
2. Kemalasan<br />
Males repot. Kalo pake duit bisa kelar ngapain repot ribut? <i>Cuma</i> Rp 100.000 ini.<br />
<br />
3. Kebiasaan<br />
Saking biasanya jadi sesuatu yang benar. Mayoritas melakukan hal ini, jadi kalau kita tidak mengikuti, kita salah deh pasti. Toh itu sesuatu yang biasa koq.<br />
<br />
4. Inferioritas<br />
Jaman gini masih merasa inferior sebagai suku tertentu? Maaf saja, kita punya hak yang sama sebagai warga negara. Lagipula bukan hanya yang sipit koq diperas, pegawai saya yang Sunda juga diperas.<br />
<br />
5. Ketakutan<br />
Kita memang bangsa Bediende. Bangsa budak, penurut, takut pada otoritas. Bahkan pada otoritas yang menyalahgunakan kekuasaan. Tidak mempunyai keberanian untuk mendobrak, kita memenjarakan diri sendiri.<br />
<br />
Jadi intinya, kita protes, berteriak-teriak saat diperas. Tetapi kita juga tidak melakukan apapun untuk melawan. Malahan kita mencaci maki orang yang tidak tinggal diam dan berenang melawan arus.<br />
Tidak heran bukan bila korupsi di negara ini bisa begitu suburnya. Ada demand, ada supply. Ada yang memeras, ada yang suka diperas.<br />
<br />
Saya memperhatikan, banyak TKI dan TKW yang diperas oleh petugas imigrasi di airport, tapi tidak ada yang pernah mencoba memeras saya. Kenapa? Karena saya tahu apa yang saya lakukan dan saya tidak mau diperas. Tidak ada yang bisa melakukan itu jika kita tidak membiarkan dan tidak merasa diri layak menjadi korban pemerasan.<br />
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"Tidak ada yang dapat membuat kita merasa inferior tanpa seijin kita." - E. Roosevelt<br />
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Keras tetapi benar, teman, adalah fakta bahwa budaya atau kebiasaan itu belum tentu sebuah kebenaran. Hanya karena semua orang melakukan dan menerima hal itu tidak menjadikan itu sesuatu yang benar.<br />
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Sungguh, saya mengerti perasaan si monyet baru yang mencoba menaiki tangga. Tapi tidak peduli bagaimanapun, saya tidak akan berhenti mencoba menaiki tangga itu.<br />
Ah, enaknya jadi beda... :D <br />
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<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-73330760191759285952012-08-23T07:51:00.000+02:002012-08-23T07:51:00.607+02:00A musing on our negative societyA friend asked me to go out with him as he's feeling a bit depressed. He told me that he liked hanging out with me because I could shed positive light on his gloomy point of view, I was his source of happiness.<br />
<br />
I texted him back,"Ok. Btw, a child can teach an adult to be happy with no reason -Paulo Coelho"<br />
He replied,"Yeah, and tell me if you can reason with a child about anything at all."<br />
<br />
I just smiled and thought to myself, how sad is it, that we always need a reason to be happy, be it a certain someone, a certain something, the list goes on.<br />
We always think if we have this or that, we'll be happy. I used to think if I were healthy, if I had a normal family, I would be happy. But it isn't true.. No matter what we have, we will never be happy as long we keep focusing on things we don't have. My friends who are prettier, healthier, have nice families, have their God, etc aren't happier than me..<br />
<br />
I honestly think we can just BE happy with no reason. Try sitting in silence for a while, smile and focus on being present in the moment, and you'll be happy. Without reason :)<br />
Because in the present moment there's no unhappiness. Unhappiness, pain happened in the past, a month ago, two seconds ago.. If we keep thinking and replaying the past in our mind, no wonder we'll always need a reason to be happy.. It is better called distracting ourselves from the past moments by setting other triggers or expectations.<br />
<br />
Our society teaches us to be unhappy. To achieve more, not to settle down for less. The drive to achieve is not a bad thing, obviously. But we need to find the balance at some point.<br />
<br />
I noticed something quite interesting.. I saw a lady dancing alone with her Ipod, smiling and enjoying herself while waiting for the train in a Berlin train station. People stared at her, frowning and shaking their heads.. I overheard two older ladies asking each other if the dancing lady was out of her mind. I just smiled and continued watching the dancing lady.. It felt liberating to see her joy, her enjoying the moment.<br />
<br />
A few weeks later, I saw a lady crying in the subway.. Strangely enough, people reacted differently. Most people paid no attention to her, as if it was something totally normal. Some sympathized, but she didn't get any frowns nor stares from people.<br />
<br />
It is normal to be happy when you're dancing in the park to the beats of music with strangers around you, but it isn't normal to be alone and happy. Whereas if you're sad, it's always acceptable in community or in private. It's becoming a widely accepted standard, to be happy we need stimulants, whereas we don't need any specific reason to be sad<br />
<br />
It struck me then, our society is built to be able to accept sadness without reason, but have difficulties accepting happiness with no reason. We even justify sadness without reasons in many ways, winter blues, mild depression, etc.. blaming the lack of endorphin or function failures of our brain synapses.<br />
But ironically, we always have to keep looking for reasons to be happy.. Music, external substances, achievements, etc. Why can't we just do nothing and be happy, crediting our own capability of producing endorphin?<br />
There are pills to boost our mood, to suppress our sadness, because we are programmed to think that happiness is something to be achieved, whereas we can just BE sad. Let's take another twist to this kind of thinking. If we can simply BE sad why can't we just let ourselves BE happy as well?<br />
<br />
My fave TV program is currently the Dog Whisperer. It always amazes me to see how easy a dog can change it's behaviors in a matter of minutes. Dogs (or animals) do not live in the past. Their misbehaviors are usually because they are following a pattern.. But once Cesar Millan (the dog whisperer) trained these dogs, they changed blitz-fast. It makes me realize how complicated people are.. We harbor resentment and trauma, reliving the past, predicting the future based on our past experiences.. Dogs live in the moment and let go of their past. As Cesar said, it is far easier to rehabilitate a dog than a human. <br />
<br />
A dear friend is still harboring excruciating pain from her past.. I asked her quietly if it's so painful, why did she relive the past every single time.. She snapped at me and said that I wouldn't be able to understand traumata, it's different from normal pain. I sensed somehow that she's somewhat afraid to move on, to let go of her trauma, the source of her justification and pity party. Ah well, but who am I anyway to throw accusations at her? I never walked in her shoes and I will stop holding my own way and opinions. I just hope that she'll find her peace of mind eventually.Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-26863071191348636982012-08-07T10:20:00.000+02:002012-08-07T10:20:39.850+02:00The winning wolf<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1PxNG8OZcEDb3i-i3lOqEYyL88ZsJZhHQeN0BqLAc5x7hzmiXXwK8jR7fPkqxhN7Nar3UyfI5l1brzocUV5XRMx8c5NIjKL38sCtNL-LF-HUZE3YX5St1SkJ9_uvAp1dwBr2/s1600/wolf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1PxNG8OZcEDb3i-i3lOqEYyL88ZsJZhHQeN0BqLAc5x7hzmiXXwK8jR7fPkqxhN7Nar3UyfI5l1brzocUV5XRMx8c5NIjKL38sCtNL-LF-HUZE3YX5St1SkJ9_uvAp1dwBr2/s640/wolf.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-44428660771586771602012-08-02T10:47:00.001+02:002012-08-03T08:00:52.490+02:00Dealing with anger and resentmentI won't lie.<br />
Sometimes I do feel very angry at my mom. I resent her at those crazy times. I'm torn between the guilt of resenting my own mom and the love for her.<br />
To give her the justice, I know very well that she loves me very much in her own way. She cooked me my favorite meals, she bought me expensive jewelery (though I don't like them), she wanted to give me everything money can buy. I know this is her own way of showing her love.<br />
<br />
But sometimes when things are hard, I caught myself thinking,"Why do I always have to be the patient, responsible and the more mature one? How old is she, and how old am I, <i>bitte schoen</i>? Why do I have to parent my own parent? Why do I always have to neglect my feelings and focus on hers instead? Is it fair that I have to deal with my own physical pain (surgeries, scoliosis back pain etc), my own self esteem plus her insanity?"<br />
<br />
But hey, it is what it is. She is who she is.<br />
If I can't change things, then I have to change my way of thinking.<br />
If I can't change her, then I guess I just have to be the change I wanted to see in her.<br />
I may feel that it is not fair, but I am not the center of the universe, aren't I? So, at some point, I have to stop focusing on my own pity party and start focusing on being a better person instead. And I won't stop the rain by complaining either.<br />
<br />
Somehow I've learned that nothing lasts forever, that every emotion will pass, be it good or bad. Anger, hatred, resentment won't last, and I've learned the hard way that if I let those emotions get the best of me, the one who's going to suffer in the end is myself. The more you think about the anger, the more you replay those bad things people did, the more you'll hurt yourself.<br />
<br />
The Zen guru, Thich Nhat Hanh said, if your house got burned down by a certain person, what are you going to do first? Trying to put the fire down or trying to catch the person who did it? A food for thought. I prefer the first choice :)<br />
<br />
Another way to make it even more acceptable. I believe in the Karma concept, though I don't really believe in reincarnation. Maybe.. I owe my mom, the universe, whatever, a lot in the past (or the future), and my karma is now ripening. I know this sounds a bit contradictory to my statement of not believing in reincarnation, but hey, this makes me tick.. So bear with me, ok? :D It helps me put things in a more positive perspective. <br />
<br />
I know some western-minded readers would think I'm crazy, a masochist. The me two years ago would think exactly the same way.. Some people would encourage me to dig deeper, release the anger, psychoanalyze. I've tried. And it didn't bring me the peace of mind I'm looking for. The more I dig and read about the borderline disorder, the more I analyze, the more hurtful it becomes, the more unfair it seems.<br />
I have put my past hurts here in writing. And my way of moving forward is to let go. I do not want to write about borderline signs and tendencies anymore.. My mom will still drive me crazy in the future, but I refuse to look back, replay and analyze those things she did in the past anymore. I'll take the higher ground.<br />
Holding on to the past is fun, I admit. It feeds my ego, justifies my right to be angry. But let see the after effect, what good does it bring me? Nothing.<br />
<br />
I might be an idealist, but practicing mindfulness, awareness of my own emotions, letting go are more practical and useful than those skeleton-digging-psychoanalysis things. I'm not saying modern psychology doesn't work. Surely it does to many people, but it is just not my cup of tea. I'm a vintage girl who prefers to curl on a 2500-year-old-buddhist couch to an avant-garde Freudian one ;) <br />
<br />
I have to say, I am where I am right now because of my dad and his very Yoda way of thinking :D He is the epitome of my accumulated good karma, I guess :)<br />
<br />
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<br />
And to Yoda I'll say Amen. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-75491672902420704242012-08-01T11:43:00.002+02:002012-08-01T11:44:48.696+02:00Borderline Personality Disorder A person with this disorder will also often exhibit impulsive behaviors and have a majority of the following symptoms:<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment</b>
</li>
<li><b>A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships</b> characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation
</li>
<li><b>Identity disturbance</b>, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self
</li>
<li><b>Impulsivity</b> in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, <a href="http://psychcentral.com/disorders/eating_disorders/" title="binge eating">binge eating</a>)
</li>
<li><b>Recurrent suicidal behavior</b>, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
</li>
<li><b>Emotional instability</b> due to significant reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or <a href="http://psychcentral.com/disorders/anxiety/" title="anxiety">anxiety</a> usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)
</li>
<li><b>Chronic feelings of emptiness</b>
</li>
<li><b>Inappropriate, intense anger</b> or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
</li>
<li><b>Transient, stress-related paranoid thoughts</b> or severe dissociative symptoms
</li>
</ul>
Borderline personality disorder is more prevalent in females (75
percent of diagnoses made are in females). It is thought that borderline
personality disorder affects approximately 2 percent of the general
population.<br />
<h2>
<a href="http://psychcentral.com/lib/2007/symptoms-of-borderline-personality-disorder/">http://psychcentral.com/lib/2007/symptoms-of-borderline-personality-disorder/</a></h2>
<h2>
Behaviors of BPD Mothers</h2>
<h2>
The Witch</h2>
<b>Typical Thoughts </b><br />
Unconsciously, Witches hate themselves because they grew up in an <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/environmental-psychology" title="Psychology Today looks at Environmental Psychology">environment</a> that "required complete submission to a hostile or sadistic <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/caregiving" title="Psychology Today looks at Caregiving">caregiver</a>"
(2000). They continue the cycle by acting cruelly to others, especially
those who are too weak, young, or powerless to help themselves.<br />
<br />
<b>Typical Emotions</b><br />
They
feel no remorse for nightmarish acts, showing more interest in their
own well-being than concern over the way they've hurt others. The
Witch's triggers include <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/jealousy" title="Psychology Today looks at Jealousy">jealousy</a>, criticism, betrayal, abandonment, feeling left out, and being ignored.<br />
<br />
<b>Typical Actions and Central Dilemma</b><br />
Most
BP parents do not physically abuse their children. Those who do
probably fall into this category. However, the abuse usually occurs when
other competent adults are not present. Thus, family members can live
in fear while all seems well to the outside world.<br />
Witches want
power and control over others so that others do not abandon them. When
someone or something triggers the Witches' abandonment fear, these BPs
can become brutal and full of <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/anger" title="Psychology Today looks at Anger">rage</a>,
even punishing or hurting family members who stand in their way (2000).
These types of BPs are most resistant to treatment: they will not allow
others to help and the source of self-loathing is very deep.<br />
<br />
<b> Typical Thoughts, Emotions, and Actions of Family Members</b><br />
<ul>
<li>"I will comply with what she wants. Resistance is futile. I will be assimilated." </li>
<li>Fear in victims.</li>
<li>Denial on the part of those who could protect the victims.</li>
<li>Tries not to trigger the witch. But her behavior is not really about the non-BP, so this strategy doesn't work.</li>
</ul>
<b> The Effect of the Witch's Behavior in Children </b><br />
<ul>
<li>Children
live in terror of Witches' capricious moods; they are the "collateral
damage" of a secret war they did not start, do not understand, and
cannot control. </li>
<li>Attacks are random, intense, and cruel.
Children automatically think they're at fault and can become shamed,
depressed, insecure, dissociative, and hypervigilant. </li>
<li>As adults they may have multiple difficulties with self, relationships, physical illness, and even post <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/trauma" title="Psychology Today looks at Trauma">traumatic</a> <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/stress" title="Psychology Today looks at Stress">stress</a> disorder.</li>
</ul>
<h2>
The Queen</h2>
<b>Typical Thoughts</b><br />
"I want more attention. I <i>deserve</i><b> </b>more
attention. And, by the way, what have you done for me lately?" Also,
"My children should fulfill my needs, not the other way around. They
don't love or respect me if they disagree with me, go against my wishes,
or have needs of their own."<br />
<br />
<b>Typical Feelings</b><br />
These include entitlement, deprivation, emptiness, anger, frustration, or <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/loneliness" title="Psychology Today looks at Loneliness">loneliness</a>
from the deprivation they felt as children. Queens are impatient and
have a low tolerance for frustration. They also push others' boundaries
without regret or recognition.<br />
<br />
<b>Typical Actions and Central Dilemma</b><br />
Driven
by feelings of emptiness and unable to soothe themselves, Queens do
what it takes to get what they feel they so richly deserve--including
vindictive acts like blackmail. Initially they may impress others with
their social graces. But when "friends" can no longer deliver, the Queen
cuts them off without a thought. Queens are capable of real
manipulation (vs. more primitive BP defenses) to get what they desire.<br />
<br />
<b>Typical Thoughts, Emotions, and Actions of Family Members </b><br />
<ul>
<li>"I can't meet this person's needs; my best isn't enough."</li>
<li>"Don't I ever get to have any needs? (Better not say that or the Queen will leave me.)" </li>
<li>"Why is everything always about <i>her?</i>"<i> </i></li>
<li>"If people only knew what an act the Queen puts on, they'd sure be shocked."</li>
<li>Family
members who the Queen shames, ignores, or gives superficial attention
learn that their worth depends on external things (cars, important
titles). </li>
<li>Non-BPs' <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/self-esteem" title="Psychology Today looks at Self-Esteem">self-esteem</a> also suffers--especially among those who become isolated or who had a Queen parent. </li>
<li>Over
time, non-BPs feel used, manipulated and angry--anger at the BP and at
themselves for capitulating so much they no longer recognize themselves.
<b></b></li>
<li>Non-BPs give in to her wishes because it's easier than maintaining personal limits.<b> </b></li>
<li>Less <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/assertiveness" title="Psychology Today looks at Assertiveness">assertive</a> non-BPs are vulnerable to distortion campaigns, unwilling or unable to protect themselves or their children.<b></b></li>
</ul>
<b> Consequences to Children with a Queen Parent</b><b> </b><br />
<ul>
<li>To
the Queen, children are a built-in audience expected to give love,
attention and support when the Queen needs it. Children feel confused
and betrayed when their normal behavior is sometimes punished (according
to the Queen's needs of the moment). Since Queens don't allow or help
children become individuals (autonomy is discouraged--even punished)
kids mimic the behavior they do see: the Queens'. Thus, a new generation
of BPs is born. </li>
<li>As kids grow, conflict with the Queen
increases. Underneath, these kids long for approval, recognition,
consistency, and to be loved unconditionally for who they <i>are</i>, not what they achieve. </li>
</ul>Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-58116595010853600592012-08-01T11:19:00.001+02:002013-02-18T08:41:09.635+01:00Trying to cope with the borderline momSince I came back to my hometown, things had been turbulent. I came with my own opinions, my german-educated way of thinking, strong cognition and cold rationality, which clash with her emotional unstructured mindset.<br />
<br />
I'm currently involved in the family business, and most of the times I supported my dad's decisions which are logical and cost effective. My mom was running the business as well and felt that she's the queen boss.. The problem is that she's actually incapable of managing a company as she doesn't have the educational background, the cognitive ability nor does she want to learn about new things. She's been holding back the company's progress as she would make decisions according to her emotions, refusing computerized system because she can't use the computer. The queen felt threatened that I was planning to overthrow her from her throne. She screamed at me not to access our supplier's or customer's files, not to come close to her desk, not to assign anything to our employees without her permission.<br />
<br />
These words were often hurled at me, "This is my territory! My prerogative! Don't forget that!" <br />
"Do you think that you'll own this company if you're helping your dad here? You won't!"<br />
"Why do you have to come back? Just go away! I wish your sister or brother will come back instead!"<br />
"Get out of MY house, you and dad. Just move out!"<br />
"We are only a small company. No need to get too structured. You're too arrogant."<br />
If my dad asked her if she had forwarded any purchase order to the production department, she would snap at him and said if he asked her that again, she would kill him.<br />
She takes everything as a personal attack. <br />
<br />
I never thought of wanting to own anything. All I want is to take US to a higher level, to succeed, to help my dad with his dreams.But unfortunately my mom can't see that. She let her own insecurities hold us back.<br />
<br />
On the emotional level, it's also exhausting. She's still hypersensitive, reading things that aren't there in the first place.<br />
She screamed at me because I was silent in the car. She cried and screamed out of sudden,"What did I do to you!? Why are you ignoring me?" I was startled.. I was silent because I fell asleep.<br />
<br />
I was yawning without closing my mouth, suddenly she screamed that I was ungrateful and disrespectful because she had always taught me to close my mouth and don't I ever think that shows the strength of a character. I was really confused.. How does the strength of my character and yawning correlate? I only kept silent. I had learned that she just wanted to provoke me further until I exploded and then blaming me for being disrespectful towards her, thus justifying her insanity.<br />
<br />
My brother was back for his internship a few months ago and had a huge dispute with her as well. Unlike the vocal me, my brother is a very passive and phlegmatic person, in which he would never take sides and never voiced his opinions in front of my mom. So my mom always thought he's her ally. <br />
My mom complained about her friend that she's always so negative, etc. My brother said,"You too." She cried night and day because of my brother's two words and resented me and my dad for influencing my brother. She was sure my brother has that opinion about her because of me. She would never thought that it was my bro's own perception, even though she knows how smart and perceptive he is.. True to the borderline traits, she sees herself as the victimized good guy. <br />
She then started crying and telling my brother stories about my dad, what a jerk he was, how she was always victimized. My brother was so angry that he yelled back at her that he didn't want to take side and that she needed to stop being so black and white and hypersensitive. He then told me that he would never come home after he graduated and what a f-cked up home this was.. He's tired of us, the children, having to constantly parentify our mom. To see his anger made me sad, realizing that it was the first time I saw him being angry, that's he's right and everyone in this house was living a nightmare. <br />
<br />
We wanted to visit my brother in Brisbane and I had bought the tickets, booked the hotels and everything. I asked her if she wanted to go to New Zealand, and she told me she had been in New Z a couple of times, so it's up to me. I asked my dad who's never been there if he wanted me to plan a New Zealand trip. He said no. So, I planned only for an Aussie trip. My dad told her this later and she claimed that she didn't know anything and refused to join the trip. When I asked her what should I do with the tickets, she only shrugged her shoulders and told me she didn't need me to plan the trip. What did I do? I kept quiet.. Tired of life time confrontations. <br />
<br />
I've tried communicating with her and my dad.. But it's like talking to a wall here. I asked her why she treated me so unfairly.. She kept blaming my dad, that my dad made her unhappy and she only forwarded everything to me. No regrets there, all my dad's faults.. I said calmly that her hypersensitivity was overwhelming, again she blamed my dad, her own parent's upbringing. I gave up... <br />
<br />
Ok, I'll stop here.. Writing this is not good for my own health apparently. Now I feel some anger rising.<br />
<br />
I am actually contemplating of moving out, but when I told her this, she cried.. And I felt bad. Call me a masochist, but I'm going to try to cope with her and see how long I can last. Who knows, I might be able to stop resenting the fire for burning :) <br />
<br />
The question of how I cope? Silence and practicing breathing meditation :D It does help a lot! <br />
I always remember what my dad said. "If a mad dog bites you, are you going to squat down and bite the dog in retaliation? Doesn't that make you as mad as it is?"<br />
When anger got the best of me, I would force myself to think that nothing lasts forever, this (anger) too shall pass. And after a while, it does indeed go away. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-12317696879974619202012-08-01T08:34:00.000+02:002012-08-01T11:46:19.991+02:00The borderline in meI grew up into a strict, know-it-all, opinionated, independent, strong-willed girl. <br />
But living with a borderline mom surely paved my own way to the mad world of borderline disorder.<br />
<br />
I was very judgmental, thinking in black and white.<br />
My own survival ability (having learned only to depend on myself) made me put myself on a high pedestal, thinking that I’m stronger than most people I know (which I am :p) ,thus I couldn’t respect people who are emotionally weak or depressed. <br />
In my own twisted mind, there’s only two ways of thinking. My way or the highway. It’s either you’re with me or you’re against me. <br />
<br />
Being highly unstable, extreme mood swings, bipolar tendencies, insecurity were daily routines. I was usually highly energetic in the afternoon, talkative, active and breaking down in the evening. Replaying past hurts and mistakes people did to me and shutting down. <br />
I remember a former boyfriend said how he dreaded the night time. <br />
<br />
I sweated the small stuffs, getting angry over unimportant things. Simply hysterical. I couldn’t control my emotional outbursts. Can you imagine being so angry that it feels literally tight and hot in the chest? I felt that kind of rage on daily basis, even over a door that’s not being closed properly. <br />
<br />
I needed to control everything, being bossy and dominant, wouldn’t take no for an answer. I needed to hear the ‘right’ answer. Right according to my subjectivity, obviously. <br />
<br />
People I hurt the most were my former boyfriends who had to deal with my instability, feeding my ego and validating my feelings which resulted from my own insecurity. I tend to push them away, break up with them often, hating them for not crawling back. To make things worse for me and themselves, they loved me so much that they put up with my madness, spoiled me and kept coming back for more. Relationships were turbulent, alternating between “Go away!” and “I need you” A book title about the life of a borderline girl really puts perspective into my behavior: “I hate you. Don’t leave me.” <br />
What about their feelings? “Huh, do they have feelings.. Never knew that.”<br />
Simply put, I made their lives a living nightmare. I was the exact replica of my mom.. <br />
<br />
Being partly bipolar, when the sun shone on my turbulent mind, I was a smart, fun loving girl. I could see the silver lining in everything, thanks to my ability of manipulating my own mind since childhood. I loved deeply and was very attentive to people. But when the dark cloud came, say hello to the manic hysterical Mrs. Hyde. Well, on the bright side, this Mrs. Hyde had never hit or beat up people. She learned from her own experiences that verbal and physical abuse are no-go’s, too bad she still missed the emotional abuse part.<br />
<br />
At those times, I never stopped to contemplate or to be grateful that I was loved, understood and spoilt. I took everything for granted, not realizing that something was wrong with myself until those people I hurt couldn’t take it anymore and gave up on me. At that point, I realized something was not right and took some time to rethink about those turbulent relationships. I might not be responsible for my borderline tendencies, but I surely was responsible for things I did to other people. This was the beginning of a change.<br />
<br />
*** I wrote this post about 6 months ago and it kinda showed my journey of change, the difference between the former and the latter me.<br />
<a href="http://brunchforone.blogspot.com/2011/12/2011-recap.html">http://brunchforone.blogspot.com/2011/12/2011-recap.html</a>Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-72299884387075760452012-08-01T06:19:00.000+02:002013-02-18T08:48:08.777+01:00My childhood with a borderline mom<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">My friend in high school used to complain all the time about her mom, how her mom abused her emotionally and verbally. How she couldn't get along with her mom etc. Add physical abuse to those and there you get my childhood</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">My mom isn't a bad person, she's actually very kind to people around her, my dad's employees, etc. She cares about the people around her when she's 'sane'. Her problem is that she's ignorant to her own mental health and projects her own unhappiness to her immediate family. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">If you see my mom and get to know her, you won't believe what Im saying here. She makes jokes, laughs, has high level of energy, always active, involved in activities. In short, high functioning. But unfortunately not to her immediate family, For me, she's a hysterical, unstable, hypersensitive, controlling mother.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I do not remember much about my childhood. What I remember are surgeries, never ending courses, studying and beating.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Growing up, my mom was very strict. There's no room for mistakes. I had to live up to her standard, which was very high. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: purple; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">She only bought me literature books and forbade me from reading comic books. I used to borrow my friend's comic books and hid it under my uniform :) I used to put those books in my school bag <span style="font-size: small;">before </span>but she ransacked my bag, hit me and tore up the books in front of me. No matter how I cried, she always proceeded on and I had to buy new books for my friends with my minimal pocket money. So I learned to hide the comic book inside my clothes. Well, it really depended on my luck, because every now and then, she would ransack my room and if she found those books, I was dead meat. </span></div>
<div style="color: purple; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">
<span style="font-size: small;">She also tore my favorite books to pieces when she found out I was reading books instead of studying. I never understood why other children could read and buy comic books and I couldn't. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Once, in her<b> rage</b>, she deemed me incapable of continuing to the university and tore up my high school diploma certificate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I seldom had free time for playing. I always had to go to extracurricular courses, music lessons, math, language classes until late at night. I had no right to say no. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She used to accompany <span style="font-size: small;">me </span>studying until 3 in the morning, but maybe I was a slow learner, she always grew impatient when I got sleepy after midnight. So she usually pinched me black and blue, beat me up with broomstick, banged my head on the wall, even burned me with an ironing rod. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I was a clumsy child (still am) and I tend to forget things easily. Whenever I unintentionally spilled my milk or juice (which happened quite often), my mom would scream at me and beat me up. If I forgot to tell her things, she would scold me and accuse me of intentionally hiding things from her, thus disrespecting her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My mom is big on <b>unhappiness and dissatisfaction</b>. She thinks that her family is a big disappointment. She complains constantly about not having a place called home, that her family doesn't love her enough. She asked me quite a lot of time,"What did you ever do for me? What have you ever given? Nothing!" This brought me to another memory when I was in the primary school. On her birthday I bought her a flower bouquet, a false one because I thought it would be long-lasting. She berated me for not buying fresh flowers instead. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Her<b> insecurity</b> is also very prominent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She cares very much about people’s opinion about her. In people’s eyes she had to be the good guy. She constantly compared me and my sister to our cousins. We were never good enough. I was always being compared to my cousin, saying how smart my cousin was and that I was a disgrace to her, how she could never be proud of me. My cousin’s grade in math was better than mine, but I also excelled her in history. My mom never saw my better grade and focused on my worse-than-cousin math grade. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My sister suffered more than me in this case. We have an aunt who likes to brag about her daughter. She bragged how smart and diligent this cousin was. My mom believed every single word she said and berated my sister constantly for being lazy. In the end, we found out that this aunt lied about her daughter’s grade. My sister’s 12 year misery was based on nothing but a vicious lie. We were always at fault and other people were always right. She believed everything other people said. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She got extremely upset when she found out that people were talking behind her back. She found out once that my uncle was talking about her, she still resented him after more than a decade. She also hates the fact that we talk about her problems. The funny thing is, she also talks and bad mouths people quite often. A double standard, indeed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Other people always come first and she never defended her family members in front of others. She cares too much about what others would think of her if she stood up against them. As for her family members, we have no other choice but to cope with her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">One day miraculously I had free time after school and invited a friend over to play. Suddenly my teacher showed up (it was her fault, she forgot that I didn’t have class that day). I refused to take lesson because it was my only free day in months and I had a friend visiting. My mom forced me to take the lesson, no matter how I cried and protested, because she felt bad for my piano teacher. Needless to say, my friend was angry at me and refused to talk to me afterwards because I neglected her for 1,5 hours. I remember how I hated my piano teacher, which wasn’t fair, because my teacher had acknowledged her mistake, said sorry and wanted to leave without giving me my piano lesson. It was my mom who insisted that I took the lesson. I finally learned that I couldn’t trust my mom, that she wouldn’t stand up for me, and I learned to depend only on myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Speaking of emotional exhaustion, my mom is <b>hypersensitive, assuming and judgmental</b>. Everything we said or didn’t say, did or didn’t do could trigger her outrage. We never knew what to expect, when her mood is going to change. I learned not to confide anything in her because she judged and often used what I said to attack me later on. She could be smiling one moment and angry in the next hour. We were so afraid of her emotional outbursts so we tiptoed around her feelings, walking on eggshells all the time, learning to distant ourselves and not say anything. Unfortunately, she didn’t like the fact that we kept our distance either. It feels like being around a ticking bomb, you just don’t know when it will explode.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Silent treatment (can stretch up to two weeks) was our routines. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She <b>thinks only in black and white</b>. It's either you're with her or against her. Opinion difference means disrespect, betrayal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She used to have a dispute with her brother and refused to talk or having any contact with him. My sister, as a child, still kept in touch with my uncle's family. My mom called her a family traitor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Inconsistency </b>was one of her dominant traits. Today she would say A, and tomorrow Z without even remembering what she said before. She used to dislike me having male friends, berated them when they called me. The next week when she’s angry, she would say,”Why don’t you have any boyfriend? Your cousin has one. Must be because you’re ugly that no one wants you.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Or she would get mad at me because I went out with my friends and she felt that I abandoned her and my family. But when I stayed home, she would say,”You’re a difficult person. Maybe that’s why you stay home and don’t have any friends.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Another main trait is that she always feels <b>victimized</b>. She's the protagonist and life/ people treat her unfairly all the time. So she tends to blame everything on other people, circumstances, bureaucracy, her own childhood, etc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It’s quite scary when she’s consumed with rage, she didn’t realize what she was saying and didn’t remember the hurtful things she had said afterwards. I grew accustomed to her hurtful words, saying that I was the crap of society, how she regretted giving birth to me, etc. She would also try to turn me against my dad, saying that my dad doesn’t love me, how mean my dad was and how she felt victimized. She couldn’t accept that I talked more to my dad than to her, and she despised the fact that I saw my dad as a better person than she was. She also blamed me for things I couldn’t control. She told me it was my fault that she had under eye bags, because I cried a lot when I was a baby. At this point I couldn’t help but wonder, how am I supposed to take responsibilities to such actions? And couldn’t she accept the fact that I cried a lot, if even as a baby I already had to deal with surgery’s pain?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She blamed me for her problems with my dad. She used to forbid me from reading some documentary books about Christianity when I was a child. She's a devout Catholic, FYI. When my dad asked me if I had read those books, I told him the truth. My dad then told her to stop indoctrinating me and let me think freely. My mom went berserk and denied everything (she really didn't remember that she forbade me), and threw accusations at me. I was a big liar, etc. This happens a lot of time and I didn't bother to argue anymore. It's no use to argue with someone who doesn't remember things she did or said and sees herself as the victimized good guy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It wasn’t easy, being a child and having to deal with abuses. I grew up doubting myself, struggling with my already low self esteem and physical pain. I was born with physical impairments, needing to go through many surgeries and recovery processes. I became sad, bitter and resentful. I used to think that I was a bad child, but looking back, I realized I wasn’t a bad kid. I was a smart and perceptive kid, I graduated with distinction, I took responsibilities, I didn’t act up, did drugs, etc, and I never complained about anything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It was a huge relief for me when my dad told me a story that kinda explained her absurd behaviors, that it wasn’t always my fault.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It was a scorching summer day and I was not even 1 year old. My parents pushed me in a stroller, they couldn’t get a taxi and I began to cry. My mom was so pissed off hearing me cry, took me from the stroller and wanted to slam me down on the pavement until my dad grabbed me away from her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">At this point, ironically, I smiled in relief. So after a life time of soul searching, I wasn't the rotten egg :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I grew up thinking I was crazy, because my mom is a happy-go-lucky, extrovert person on the outside. My friends and cousins told me how lucky I was to have such a funny and supportive mother. I could only smile and doubted my own sanity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As long as I can remember, I couldn't wait until I finished school and was able to go abroad to pursue higher education. So did my siblings, I guess. I can't speak for them, but from what I perceived, all of us just wanted to get out of the house, away from her rage and insecurities. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Well, but we all survive :) My sister grows up to be a
kind-hearted, cheerful person and my brother is now a very perceptive
and stable person. And all ends (hopefully) well :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">* I went to Germany after graduating high school. I was free to explore and express my own opinions, but sadly I also showed some significant signs of BPD. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Now I'm back in my hometown and, again, trying to cope with mom's emotional roller coaster ride. I'll write about this in another chapter :)</span></div>
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Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-86759999680975049842012-07-13T11:51:00.001+02:002012-07-13T11:53:25.332+02:00Ignorance of the brain-washed*A post I wrote around a year ago. Before the death of my Christianity. Totally invested with arrogance :) <br />
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I still remember about someone who evangelized to me, saying that I would never be truly happy without Christ in my life. There's a void in my soul, which can only be filled by the holy spirit. I need to follow my heart, ask God to touch my heart, shutting down my reasoning, knowledge and brain.<br />
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I used to think maybe he's right and sincerely asked,"Is it really that easy? To shut down our brain and stop questioning?"<br />
He answered,"Of course. Been there, done that. Just let it happen and without you realizing it, you'll probably start speaking in tounges. I'll support you." And he gave me a very reassuring smile.<br />
Me: "Ok. Guide me."<br />
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After a while, I started to ask him a lot of questions about the bible, the church history, etc. How disappointed I was that he could never answer my questions and berate me for asking instead.<br />
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His typical response of my biblical questions is "I can't answer that. I've never questioned it. I just believe. I'll pray that God answers your questions directly."<br />
His response of questions about the history of bible, first catholic church, crusades, etc : "What's crusade? Never heard of it. Well, I'm not interested in history as well. It's about the essence of a relationship with God. Just ignore the history. History can be tainted as well"<br />
His response to evolution: "There's no proof of evolution. If there were evolution, why do monkeys still exist?"<br />
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I was exasperated.. It's so obvious that he never read anything apart from the Bible. This is a type of guy who never had friends from different religions nor backgrounds, never bothered to read nor watch "secular" stuffs, cringed everytime I mentioned my gay friends, saw his history and biology lessons in school as huge lies and propaganda against his belief. So are his fundamentalist church friends, unfortunately. It's really a pity seeing how far they would limit themselves.. How cozy they are in their box, closing their eyes, rejecting different ideas, people, the possibility that maybe there're other worlds out there.<br />
I called them christian Taliban, who would burn Copernicus for saying the earth isn't the center of the universe, if they had the chance. <br />
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I told him quite arrogantly (I'm not proud of this),"You can't make me see that your restaurant is the best, if you've never eaten in other restaurants before. Go broaden your horizon. Read more about the world you're living in, ask questions about the history of your own belief, as it's ironic that I know more about your own belief than you. Stop focusing on the afterlife and make the most of your present life. Make more friends from different backgrounds, learn about other beliefs out there. Get out of your box. And we'll talk when you're there."<br />
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I know he won't. He's warm enough in the box, why would someone leave the nest if they could stay?<br />
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As for now, I'm still not sure of what true happiness really means, but I've experienced that fear of afterlife, damnation of my original sin, castration of freedom and intellectual eunuchism in Christianity do not bring me happiness.Wi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10576020.post-3086172447256392642012-07-13T11:49:00.003+02:002012-07-13T11:49:23.649+02:00Bittersweet IronyI just felt the urge to comment on something irrelevant and unimportant :D <br />
I was browsing on Facebook and saw a someone's profile picture on a friend's wall. <br />
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Profile name: I hate you (;D no kidding)<br />
Profile picture: A local gospel album cover: God will have his way<br />
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I know, I know, she can do whatever she wants to, it's none of my business. But wouldn't it be nicer if she put on a Scream 2 poster or if she's so musical, Rammstein instead :DWi Leshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16574036853466137810noreply@blogger.com0