Entry #6: Pain

Rejection and heartbreak…both are equally painful… I have experienced heartbreak not too long ago, having just recovered. And today, I experienced my first rejection. I thought it would hurt less, but boy! I was wrong. It hurt just as much. Painful as it is, I have never thought of letting go of this life, because pain is what drives me to live. As I hurt, as I bleed, I isolate myself and let my solitude amplify my pain. You see, when I’m hurting, I can’t bear to let people see me, and the feeling as though I alone am bearing all the heartache…well, it sounds somewhat tempting to me. I revel in it, resisting it, and then surrendering myself, and resisting again. Nothing but pain…makes me feel like some angsty, depressed character out of a manga. I’m living out those tragic characters in the manga. It makes me feel like pain defines life; a mortal life full of its suffering. Sometimes I wonder if I’m masochistic; I think I am. Well, I seem to be addicted to emotional pain. I push the boundaries of the pain I feel, more and more, as though trying to see how much pain I can endure before breaking down and stop feeling entirely. I lower all my defences and let them strike me full in the chest, inflicting damage sometimes before previous wounds are fully healed. Though they may not mean to hurt me, it seems like I allow them to. I bare myself completely before them, giving the chance to hurt me. Haha, yet I never withdraw from the pain, nor do I build a wall around my heart. Why? I receive it, I experience it and in the end, I endure it. But how far can I hold back to this kind of abuse? How far before I become too emotionally damaged to be able to feel, to love? How far before I become too afraid, too cold, too injured? How far?

My friend says, leave your problems and worries to God, but it’s so built into me to worry, to think about what’s not going right. And I can’t let go very well before I bleed the wounds in my heart. Why? Am I hurting myself? Do I like hurting myself? God, teach me to let go of my worries. I can’t do it; I don’t know how. I’ve always lived my life solving my own problems, now I have problems I can’t deal with, worries I can do nothing about, yet I can’t seem to let go of them. Teach me, Father, to give them to You, for You alone can solve all my problems. This I know, but I must be able to give them to You before You can solve them for me. So educate this lost child, Lord. I pray for Your guidance, Lord. May I be able to learn how to be a little more relaxed and to put all my faith in You, and dare to lean on You when I’m at my weakest moments, for You are my pillar, Lord. Amen.

Saving Anna: Chapter 2

Anna banged the door so hard it rattled in its frame. She walked away in quick, angry strides as the door was thrown open. Mama stood at the doorway; she was screaming at her, but Anna could not hear her. Her ears were blocked by the anger coursing through her veins.

In that one year, as Mama’s drinking got worse, so did her temper. When she came home, she would start a screaming match with Anna. Sometimes, Anna tried to counter her mother’s insults with silence, but it never really worked. Today it was especially bad, because Mama saw a boy talking to Anna.

It was the eve of Anna’s 17th birthday, so the boy had approached Anna to wish her. He was simply a classmate she occasionally talked to. Mama saw that and went ballistic. She yelled at the poor boy, frightening him and humiliating Anna. Anna dragged Mama home, where she had demanded audaciously that Anna stopped attending school. It led to a hell of a row, and when Mama called Anna a slut, that was the last straw.

Stopping in front of a large shopping window, Anna examined her reflection. Her bosom had filled out over the year, and never being able to have proper meals resulted in a tiny waist, but she had broad hips. Work and studies took a toll on her sleep, but the slight bags somehow made her large eyes rounder, giving her a wide-eyed look of innocence. But Anna was not so innocent. She had lived long enough in the slums to know that she was attractive to other boys, and that stray men and strangers eyed her with a wolfish hunger. But none of them could get close enough to Anna, no. Those grey eyes glinted like steel when the men tried to come near, and it spoke of horrors and pain beyond their imagination, spoke to warn them that this was not a girl who could be taken easily. Oh, Anna was not so innocent.

Anna moved to sit on a bench on the sidewalk. She hoped that Chrissy and Sophie was going to be all right. Then again, Chrissy was wise enough to stay out of Mama’s way until she passed out from drunkenness. A strand of rich, auburn hair fell into her eyes, and Anna blew it out of her face. She dug into her pocket and counted. She had enough to buy three cupcakes from the corner sweetshop. Sighing, she got to her feet and made her way to the shop.

Now, on the block across the sweetshop, there was a rather small cathedral at the end of the block. Usually, Anna would pay no attention to the cathedral, but today she looked up and saw the little carvings of angels on the frame of the door. She stuffed the cupcakes into her pocket, and slowly walked closer to examine the carvings. It was nothing complicated, but it was exquisite in its simplicity. Anna hesitated, and then she pushed open the door to the cathedral. It was surprisingly heavy and it swung inwards silently.

Saving Anna: Chapter 1

“The biggest obstacle standing between me and God has always been the fear of not being able to believe…”

She had been disillusioned about life for as long as she bothered to remember. What was there to hope for in this grey world? She had fallen into a pit she could not climb out of, a pit full of despair, so deep, so dark. Hope…what did she understand of this word? In a heart covered with wounds, there was no room for hope.

There was a screech, suddenly, from outside. Annabelle did not react; it happened all the time. Her mother had probably staggered in the front door of their miserable two-room apartment, and most likely drunk. Indifferently, she turned her attention back to the book she was reading. Her younger brother and sister probably had found a place to hide and wait out her mother’s spell. This was life, and Mama’s screaming was just an everyday thing; she had heard it for most of her 16 years.

Mama was banging on her door now. Anna buried her head further into the book. She knew it would stop in a few minutes, when Mama had wasted her entire vocabulary of profanities on the door. Sure enough, the banging and cursing ceased after a while. Anna opened the door to find Mama slumped against her door, reeking of cheap whiskey and vomit. The front of her faded dress was stained, and her gaunt face red. Those eye bags were more pronounced than ever.

A door creaked; Christophe and little Sophie were emerging from the bathroom. So that was where they had taken refuge. Anna dragged her mother into the bathroom and proceeded to strip the filthy dress of her thin, thin figure. 11-year-old Chrissy grabbed a towel, no more than a rag, and soaked it. He wiped Mama’s face while Anna cleaned Mama’s naked body. Sophie was too young to do anything; she was the result of Mama’s affair with one of those barmen 5 years back, some time after Papa had walked out of them. The barman had disappeared quickly, and rightly too, thought Anna.

After cleaning Mama up, Anna carried her to bed. Mama was so thin she weighed almost nothing. Well, it wasn’t much of a surprise, since her diet composed of nothing but alcohol. Anna and Chrissy tucked Mama into bed without ceremony, not really bothering to dress her, just pulling the cover up to her chin. It was nothing but routine; they thought nothing of it.

Entry #5: Breathing with Relief

I've finally confronted (hm...that's a strong word) my ex. Was he really serious about ending it, or was he merely taking a rest? It bothers me, this thought, and I refuse to keep having false hopes. I'm dangling in midair, too afraid to let go, too restless to stay on. And I don't want anymore presumptions or speculations. I need an answer there and then.

So I called and asked. And he said yes, he wanted to end it in earnest. I felt a surge of...relief, maybe? It was like the last of my chains had been dissolved, the knot in my stomach undone. More than anything, I was glad he came out with his true feelings. Hahaha, I could now breathe freely, without having doubts or hesitations. What's more, I can now truly be comfortable being around. I won't have to be so aware of his presence.

I'm really thankful to God for giving me the burst of courage to call him and clarifying things with him. And God, You have answered my prayer when I asked for strength to endure through this obstacle. I didn't realise it happening but it did. You lent me strength in the form of my friends, through their great support. I believe that this has happened for a reason, Lord, for I know that you have plans for me. I will simply await to find out what purpose you have for me. Amen.

Entry #4: Letting Go

Yesterday, I think I was finally able to let him go. In an event organised by my college, I had to perform last minute, literally. It was a shocking but exhilarating experience, so I SMSed him to let him know. He was unable to come you see. I told him I did a duet with one of the performers.

He told me that maybe I should bring him to prom. I was really hurt. Continuing the conversation, I could really feel that he wants to end it, seriously. It wasn't just on hold anymore; this was the official break-up. I felt terrible.

When I went home I cried again. But in that pain was a relief of something resolved. We no longer had to drag this on, but the issue had been resolved. Painful as it was, it was necessary for me to cry. Because through crying, I was able to bleed the wound in my heart, and now...I can finally start to heal. It won't be easy and the experience will make its mark on me, but by hurting and recovering, I finally have the courage to let go.

I thank the Lord for giving me the strength and courage to go through this. And I thank Him for blessing me with great, wondersul, supporting friends who comforted me when I was hurting. Amen.

Entry #3: The Break

Is this how heartbreak feels like? I was almost crushed by the suddenness of the entire situation. He said he couldn't commit, couldn't spend time with me and he felt bad about it. So could we take a break form our relationship? Hahaha...I could've said I didn't mind. I truly didn't. But I knew him well enough.

Even if I said so, he would have felt the pressure to spend time with me. I don't want him to be unhappy, so I rather get hurt. I agreed, even though it broke me inside. There was nothing more painful at that moment. But I must be strong. We agreed that we should stay friends, and that we shouldn't avoid each other, which we didn't.

Next day, I told some close buddies, and felt like breaking down. But I didn't. They saluted me, for being able to stay on such good terms with him. But they didn't know how much it tore at me. Back at the hostel, my roommate took one look at me (she knew) and said "Cry it all out, you'll feel better."

And I did. Well, not really cry, but I choked and spluttered and sobbed for a good 10 minutes. Then my other friends came in, and they talked me through my sadness. From that, I guess I really understood why he asked for this. He wasn't ready for relationships yet, and his priority then? Just wasn't me. I guess it hurt me to know that I wasn't that important to him...not yet. I wonder if he still has feelings for me? Our friends say he has.

He told me that if I found someone better, go for him, and I was angry in a way. I felt like he was underestimating my feelings for him. Given the condition I'm in, I probably won't be in a while.

I pray that the Lord gives me the strength and patience to get on. I pray to be able to understand his needs, and that I can let go of this pain soon.

Entry #2: The Conversion

Haha, going to the Calvary Youth Concert proved to be life-changing. I went there expecting some fun, not an emotional moment with God. But I'm thankful to God and to my friend who convinced me to go.

I clearly remembered that moment...the pastor was speaking up there on stage. Then I was crying..real strange to me.. I didn't know why, just that this really powerful emotion was surging through me, so overwhelming it brought me to tears. Then, when he asked those who wished to receive Christ to stand, I was caught in a dilemma. A few seconds of tug-of-war inside my turbulent soul, yet it felt like so long. And then it rose, the need to stand, the desire to stand. And I stood. And at that time I went up to the stage and had a sister to help me pray...that time...was the moment when I felt most clearly. So powerful, so great that it hurts..The Lord has touched my heart, mind and soul. It was almost unbearable.

After the experience, I was worried. What was I to tell my parents? How was I going to tell my mum that her Buddhist daughter had just converted to Christianity? It was highly emotional when I did. I'm someone who can't keep secrets from my mum, so I told her. And it was a very tearful moment as we both struggled to express ourselves. And it was hard for me because she cried, and I felt terrible for it.

But God was merciful. My parents were gracious, they allowed me to learn more about thsi religion before converting, generally not having too much objections. I thank the Lord for opening my parents' hearts to my real desire, and for the great friends who helped me out.

The First Entry

Hm..what is there to say? Nothing much...actually too much... There is so much I want to say..so many things that happened in the past few months. Good things...bad things...converting to Christianity, struggling to express my conversion and my true problem to my parents, and most recently, my boyfriend and I decided to "take a break".

Perhaps I'll talk about it in different posts, makes it easier for me to organise my thoughts...