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Posts Tagged ‘life’

of jotting life.

It’s a holiday. Thus I don’t really have any mood to write anything. Thus, here I am scribbling something, junk mostly just to update the blog.

pride and honesty and desperation were waging a war inside of her, and her conscience was being assaulted in the fray.

1. Above quote explains everything. Taken from “a kingdom of dreams” by Judith McNaught, the book i’m reading at the moment. The book which i should have finished it 2 days ago but still having some problem with concentration and passion which had interfere my comprehension. Perhaps i should stop reading novels.

2. Your action speaks louder than word. In fact louder than a bullet from a gun, if only the bullet is the only one who is producing the sound not the gun.

3. to toothless grin and baby toys, i miss you. Get well soon and we’ll have fun with the chuggers again.

4. there’s cut everywhere. perhaps someone should just give up, let the wound heal and protect it for which further injuries may lead to scarring and permanent damages.

5. been waiting for hafiz to write about the subsidy issue and he wrote one at last. a very sarcastic piece i may say but brilliant especially the way he delivered it. i can sense the bias but for someone who read economy your arguments are not a moot point.

6. holiday provides me with nothing but plenty of time for which i’d been spending it by hopping from blog to blog trying to capture the mind of the writers. I could see there are so many differences in mentalities among different cultures and geographical areas despite the slogan 1malaysia.

7. found one inspiring story here while bloghopping. may he keep on fighting and never despise.

8. sick of people talking politics. it’s everywhere – tv, newspaper, blogs and even facebook. urgh! but who am I to complain it’s a free country anyway.

9. twenty three was hardly ancient but i felt old.

10. a smile came slowly, dawning in the eyes then drifting to the mouth as i read the mail few minutes ago. welcome home, pal 🙂

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Just a wrap-up.

At long last, the day arrived. It was the end to the boring lectures, laboratory activities and mannequins. I am approaching my clinical years in which I’ll be spending my time at the hospital learning from the real patients. To come to think of it, if you ask me about this few decades ago, I never thought that would be possible because hospital has always been my least favorite place on earth as it’s the scariest and dirtiest.

Besides, I never dream of becoming a doctor. I fear I don’t have any ability or whatever it takes to become a healer. Healers are life saving noble folks whom people depend on so much. They heal people. They take away the suffering. For me, anyone can be a mere doctor but not everyone will become a healer as I do believe that there’s a significant distinction between a healer and a mere doctor.

This thought had led me to low self confidence.

Every time when there is an examination, I fear that the result may bring me farther down while I thought I was already at the bottom but recently an episode of Grey’s Anatomy had taught me that whatever happens, walk tall because no one knows how short you are except yourself. I try hard to take heed and gather pieces of myself with little hope but sometimes I still failed. That explains my idiosyncrasy. Some of my friends always chide me for having bipolar disease as me and violent mood swings are two inseparable items. I could be so full of confidence by being a maniac with unbelievable amount of enthusiasm in a few hours and a melancholic hermit feeling suicidal in the next. (Please take note that I don’t mean it literally). I admit that at times, I could feel that all those fear is overwhelming my rationality.

I don’t know how is my life at the hospital starting this mid September gonna be but so far my 4th year as a medical student has been the toughest. I am unsure why but this year has drained me emotionally. Perhaps it’s the thesis or the workload or the personal life or the goal that I had set during my freshman year that has driven me crazy.  I have no idea.

But I have made it this far. Shaken but I made it nonetheless.

I feel like it was just yesterday I rode the slow-freaking bus from Jakarta to Jatinangor with my other jpa mates and now soon enough we’ll be graduating.

Yes. Soon!

Because in Indonesia every medical student will experience two graduations in their bachelor program. The first graduation will mark the end of theoretical years in which after that you’ll be spending your next 2 years life as a medical student at the hospital, meeting real patients, maybe trying to diagnose and treat them in order to gain the experience. I am not sure whether it’s the same like an internship or not. And the second graduation is more like an oath-taking ceremony but I’m not sure too (believe it or not I’ve never been to any of these ceremonies) and I have no idea why they need two graduations either.

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Separated, floating as if I was in the moon is what I have been experiencing lately. For once in my life time, I don’t know what is happening to me, my body, my brain and my surrounding. Everything seems to be so disconnected.

I wondered when was the last time I feel worried or happy or scared?

The answer scares me because I could not remember it at all.

I feel so numb as if I have been dumped into an ice water. None of my nerve is sending any impulse to my brain. I feel nothing except the disquiet of no emotion, the disturbance of knowing I should feel something. I was having bunch of exams for the last few weeks, I should feel nervous, afraid, and worried but unfortunately I was not, at least not like the way I used to feel. For example, for my tropical medicine examination, I just did the past year question which I disgust before this because for me what kind of doctor will I become if I just memorize someone’s answer? No offence, it’s just me. But for this block, I just did the past year because it’s too late to study and I don’t have any mood to study. I just don’t care if the question was going to come out differently. I just want to get it done and I hate myself for these but I have been forcing myself yet I still failed to bring back all the emotion and I don’t know what to do.

I am not syazwan who play PS the night before exam but still pass the paper with flying colours. Yes, I am not genius. I need to study and in order to study I need my emotion back. I am not a robot even though in certain aspect of my life yes I am emotionless but not when it comes to studying. I need to feel the need to study and I need my emotion to do that for me.

The detachment goes even deeper from day to day. Usually when I cry things get better after that but not anymore. I have been crying a lot lately but my drive had not returned. Remember I said that I don’t cry in public but as long as I remember this month I had cried twice in a bus full of people without any concrete reason.

The good things in life were missing in me.

Every laugh is a fake.

Every smile is forced.

I have reached my limit.

OK, it is depression. Or another way of saying it, I’ve got the blues. Yeah, as much as I don’t want to admit it, you don’t have to become a medical student or a doctor to actually diagnose that. I keep on denying this fact. I tried to force myself to be strong but what happen on last Sunday morning had caused me to give up pretending.

After all I always know I am mental.

Hopefully Malaysia is the medicine to what I’ve been suffering.

p/s: The title seems to be little bit out of topic. But if you know me well inside and outside, you will probably understand and could make the correlation. And yeah, it’s eating me and yeah again, I am not gonna admit it, at least here where the post is not password protected.

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I am too miserable this year. I can’t  breathe even though I keep denying that i”m so miserable. I keep telling myself, everything is just fine. But if everything is just fine why couldn’t I say it out loud?

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Of talking research techniques .

There’s people talking
They talk about me
They know my name
They think they know everything
But they don’t know anything
About me

Listening to this song of Hillary Duff entitled Wake up reminds me of memories forged once upon a time or perhaps until now? People are sometimes curious about a lot of things but instead of asking, they tend to make their own story based on their very own observation. Yes, they are applying those steps in the research techniques that they’d learned in the class- make a null hypothesis, observe, analyze and interpret it.

Most of the time I can only sigh after listening to their lists of null hypotheses about me but when they’re hurt just because they don’t really understand me, I can also feel the stabbing pain in me. There’re certain parts of my life that I can only share with a few people that I am comfortable with and I really hope whatever I said is suffice for them to reject their null hypotheses but people tend to ignore whatever I said and stick to their null hypotheses and it’s very depressing to acknowledge this fact.

Besides, it’s me. I am everything I am- furtive and surreptitious. The past had taught me well to keep everything to my own. I am not trying to be a masochist or a superwoman that tries to endure every single pain by myself but if that what it takes to make everybody around me happy and healthy, I will be just fine to go through with it. I wish to share a lot of things with people but I can’t.

I used to share everything with mom and dad – the boon and the bane of life but a parents is always a parents. They will sick worrying about their child and in the past when they’re worried about me, I’ll be very happy knowing that it’s mere love that bring them to that that state but now as they’re getting older, they’re not as healthy as they used to be few decades ago, especially dad. Imagine sometimes when some of my siblings slip something about any of us having some troubles or sick, his blood pressure raises up to the level beyond healthy even for geriatric. (and he even tries not to tell us about his health too, afraid that we’ll worry about him. To that I will say, this attitude really runs in the blood)

The situation has shaped my attitude – secretive and taciturn.

I started not to become open with almost everybody but certain people, like my elder brother, knows how to deal with me very well. He knows how to make me speak up my mind. When everybody even though sometimes my mom, believe in what I said, he sometimes is very hard to convince. He always knows every time I said I’m ok it means otherwise. He knows every time I laugh a lot and trying to be happy it means I’m so deeply sad with something. He knows how to get the answer without forcing me. He knows how to make me slip it accidentally.

I wish so much to find a guy like him- someone who knows how to break the partition that I build in between me and the world because me, even me, have no idea how to destroy it.

So, stop saying that I’m unfriendly or aloof because this is me. Taciturn is part of me.

p/s= I have no idea why I wrote this piece. I was just doodling – if doodling can be done through typing.

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Rich and Poor.

She came back from some rural places and told him a story about the houses which lack even basic amenities and he thought she had become too comfortable with her life that she wasn’t capable to live a life without the presence of an air conditioner, a washing machine and the cable tv anymore. No! That was not her intention. She was just trying to tell him about the existence of the poor in this developing nation. She was too amazed to encounter that even in this developing country, where social living status is increasing every day, there’re still people who live with just the basic. But unfortunately, he gets her wrong. And so, the situation warrants her a history lesson, the same story that she has been listening for her entire life.

He talks about his life as a kid where his father was just a truck driver but he and his siblings all now has become the successful person. He told her about how he used to sell noodles at school and give tuition to his friend just for some pocket money. He said, she should be grateful because she just has to open her mouth and ask if she wants anything. He said he was the poor kid while she was the rich kid.

But, she doesn’t think so. She may has anything she want but while other children received 1-2 bucks per day for pocket money, she only has 20 cent in her purse. She still remembered asking him why she only get 20 cent? – which is what he got when he was a little kid. Doesn’t he know that the era has changed? But he told her that she already got everything, she didn’t need anything to buy anymore and that 20 cent was not a pocket money. It should go straight to her piggy bank.

She never understood about that idea until she finished her secondary school. She always thought she was the poorest among her friend. She couldn’t figure out why a daughter of a manager only got 20 cent per day while a daughter of just a clerk got 2 bucks? That is not fair at all.

But he was just trying not to pamper her so much so that she would not depend on him too much because he was afraid if something starkly happen, she won’t be able to cope with the living. He wants her to become conscious of the reality as well as the associated responsibility that comes with it as his favorite quote is, “Life is a roller coaster, today we may be on top but who knows what will happen to us tomorrow.”

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