So You Think You Can Blog?

2015-06-06T16:07:00.001+08:00

I woke up at 3:23 a.m. the other night

and I couldn't put myself back to sleep.

I looked at my phone and I tried to remember when was the last time I felt whole.

I went on Whatsapp, scrolled down a few times until I saw your name.

*tap*

You were online.

Were you having trouble sleeping, again?

Or like me, you woke up to find yourself occupied with a million things in your mind?

I lie in bed, the screen inches away from my face and I stared at the word 'online' under your name.

And I waited. Not really sure of what.

A text.

A phone call.

A hello.

An I-miss-you.

Those things didn't happen.

Maybe you were talking to someone else.

Someone who made you rather spend the whole night awake, to suffer having eyebags the next morning, than to say goodnight.

That person used to be me, I thought.

That person is no longer me, I realized.

And I wondered, maybe at the same time and by chance, you were staring at my name

And you, too, wondered when will I text you again

or when will I finally give in and tell you that I miss you.

*Last seen 3:33 a.m.*

You went offline.

Goodnight, I whispered as I waited for the sheer exhaustion of thinking about you, to lull me back to sleep.

I Deserve You

2015-02-16T22:00:00.000+08:00

Here are some things that took me a while to realize, the same things that you should know.

I think, perhaps, there is a 100% chance that I am in love with you.

And I deserve you. Honest to God, I do. I deserve your humour, your weird sense of humour that makes me helplessly smile and all happy inside. I deserve your ability to make me laugh out loud even when I don't even feel like smiling.

I deserve your kind thoughts, your generosity and your passion. I deserve listening to you talk about the things that you love and the things that you hate. I deserve listening to the way you talk about the people you have met, the way you talk about the things that you find beautiful and the way you talk about love. And it amazes me each time you speak and I yearn to see the world as beautifully as you do.

I deserve to be in your presence when you talk about your faith. When you talk about God and makes it seems like all my questions about life are always valid. I deserve your honesty in the things that you don't know and your humility in the things that you do.

I deserve your love, unconditional and unwavering. Selfless and without any ulterior motive. I deserve to be loved by you.

I deserve you.

But here's the catch, the part where I don't think you understand and the part where I hate to admit.

You don't deserve me.

You don't deserve my insecurities and my constant anxiety of whether I am ever going to be good enough. You do not deserve my perpetual fear of being in my own skin.

You do not deserve my violent mood swings and panic attacks. Or how I shut the world out whenever I feel like the whole world is against me. And you certainly do not deserve my temper, my anger and all my pent-up rage.

You do not deserve my hipocrisy, how I judge people for judging me. How I expect the world to treat me fairly when I refuse to ever see the world as fair. How I demand respect and attention, but all for the wrong reasons, using all the wrong ways.

You do not deserve how I will always hurt the people that I love, and the people who are foolish enough to love me. You do not deserve how I will always push you away and how I am constantly afraid of the idea of you leaving. You do not deserve the fact that I am so afraid of getting attached because I am constantly entertaining the thought that one day, slowly but surely, you will fall for someone else.

You don't deserve me. Because you deserve someone much, much better.

So please understand why I walked away. Because it doesn't kill me as much, not being with someone I love. What will truly and surely kill me is the thought that I let you be with me when you deserve something much more.

I walk away because nobody warned you that when you meet someone like me for the first time, you should have trusted your first instinct...

and run.

How To Break a Person's Heart

2015-02-01T01:41:00.000+08:00

Let me teach you how to break a person's heart

It's fairly simple, all you have to do is start.

This thing I'm teaching, it's like online gaming

Once you start the war, there's no room for pausing.

First things first, begin with a casual conversation

lure them into your secret mission.

Proceed with compliments and make them smile,

make them believe that you're worth their while.

Promise them loyalty, kindness and affection

make them feel special with your utmost attention.

Now that you've confirmed, they're attracted to you

it's time to proceed to phase Number Two.

Text them at midnight, your beautiful thoughts

tell them that you like them, you like them a lot.

Text them 'Goodnight beautiful' before you sleep

Once you do this, they'll be in it too deep.

Now comes the fun part, so listen closely

but be careful, my dear, it's going to get messy.

Once or twice, read their text but do not reply

make them wonder what went wrong, make them cry.

Try to act indifferent when they share in their secrets

plunge the knife in deeper, kick them where it hurts.

They are now very fragile, almost broken but not quite

To complete this mission, start an argument, pick a fight.

Tell them you are done with them, you're walking away

Now enjoy the sound they make as they beg you to stay.

Then tell them what they fear the most, tell them with a smile,

that you had never loved them, you're playing a game all these while.

You got what you want now, their lives will never be the same

Congratulations, collect your prize, you have won the game.

Now you may ask me, what do you do

If instead you're the one whose heart got broken into two?

I will teach you now how to mend a broken heart

it's fairly simple, all you have to do is start.

Scars and Bruises

2015-01-28T00:26:00.001+08:00

I think this has happened to everyone - you get these small scars or random bruises on your body and you have no idea how you got them.

I guess I never really wonder the how or the when of it, instead I always wonder what was I doing when I got them. What was occupying my mind so much that I didn't register the pain? Which train of thoughts could overpower the pain signal to my brain? What was I thinking?

And more importantly, was I thinking of you?

Bukhari Explains: What Panic Attack Feels Like

2014-12-20T04:00:00.002+08:00

"A panic attack goes from a 0 to a 100 in an instant."

"It's halfway between feeling like you'll faint, and feeling like you'll die"

"When you miss a step on the stairs and your stomach lurches, it feels like that... but much, much longer."

"Your entire body is feeling everything, and nothing... all at once."

The first time it happened to me was when I was in high school. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know why it happened. And I never told anybody.

I just remember locking myself in the toilet; I was on the floor, arms around my knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

It ended as immediately as it had started. It probably lasted for five minutes. It felt like hours.

I didn't know what panic attacks were. I'm not even sure whether all these episodes that I have even count as panic attacks.

I can usually tell when it's coming. Like how when a person with asthma can know when he's going to have an asthma attack, or when someone with epilepsy can tell he's going to have one... it's like that.

I know when it's coming. But the sucky part is that... there's nothing I can do to stop it. Which usually leads me to go and find an empty room, lock myself in, and let it all rush in.

It feels like I'm drowning and I'm gasping for air. And with each breath, I sink even deeper and suffocate even more. It feels like a thousand mountains were laid on top of my chest, and with each effort to breathe, I feel like my ribs are cracking and I feel like I am dying.

I feel helpless, and scared and tired. You will never feel as lonely as you were when you're having a panic attack, which makes the panic attack even worse. Because you realize that no one is ever going to be there to help you. You can only help yourself.

What triggers my panic attack?

I wish I knew. It usually happens when a lot of things are happening to me, all at once. And because I tend to ignore them, it accumulates and soon, like a ticking time bomb, I explode.

It sometimes happen in public. I remember being in a mall with a group of friends when I felt like an attack was going to happen. I excused myself to the restroom, locked the doors, sat on the floor and waited for it to end.

Panic attack feels like a heart attack, or a stroke. But the thing with heart attacks or strokes is that you know what is wrong with you.

With panic attack you usually have no clue.

A friend once asked me, "Is it that bad?"

And I answered, "No. Maybe I'm just that weak..."

"But i just keep thinking that this will pass... this will pass... and it usually does."

Bukhari Explains: Why We Fall In Love

2014-12-07T00:28:00.001+08:00

I used to believe that the reason we fall in love with a person is solely because of who that person is. Meaning that our love is fully dependent on their personality, their mentality, their humor or how they look like.

But if there's anything I learn being in my 20's is that we also love people because of who WE are. It is also dependent on OUR personality, OUR mentality, OUR humor and OUR self-image.

You see, I think we accept the love we think we deserve. We are attracted to those that we feel are compatible with us. We fall in love with people that fit in with our personality, that challenge our minds, make us laugh and make us want to be better versions of ourselves.

We don't only love them, we also love the things they do to us. Like how they make us change the way we view the world, the way they make us believe in our own dreams and the way they make it seem that the world isn't such a bad place after all.

We love them, but perhaps more than that, we love their effect on us.

Which is why sometimes, when you stop loving people, you can look back and think, "What the hell was I thinking the whole time?" It's not because they've changed, it's because YOU have changed. They can no longer fit into your life. You, discovering new things about yourself, sometimes means realizing that the new-you deserves more than what the old-them can give.

The people we are in love with and the friends that we have, are all reflections of ourselves. The people we love, in some ways, define ourselves.

Therefore, we love because we are capable of loving, not just because they are lovable. So the only way to fall in love with the right person is to first be the right person. Change how you view yourself and you'll start seeing that you will be attracted to people who are worth being attracted to. ;)

I Am Sorry

2014-08-22T12:04:00.000+08:00

Hey. I don't know why am I writing this in the middle of the night. Or who am I writing this for. Maybe I secretly hope that you would read this. Maybe you won't. If that's the case, then this is for my readers and hopefully someone will learn from this. At least I did.

I wasn't looking for you. I wasn't looking for anyone. But I found you, all by accident. I guess you can say that it's fate. I wasn't looking for love. I don't know what I was looking for. But I found you.

And you were perfect in every single way. You like the same things and you hate all the right things. I was deeply attracted to you, even before knowing how you look like. And that has never happened before.

We were moving too fast, I know. But I kept telling myself that it is okay to move that fast because when you feel that it's right, you don't wanna waste even a single second without each other.

But I guess I was wrong.

I tell myself that I love you over and over again in my head because why else would I miss you even after a second you said goodnight? Why else would I wanna spend all my days and all my nights just hearing what you've got to say? And why else would I agree to get a ring and ask you if you'd like to be mine?

I keep telling myself that I love you because you were perfect for me. You say all the right things and made me laugh at all the right times. And you make each and every moment with you feel like the right moment to be alive.

I fell in love with the idea of you. The idea of a relationship. I fell in love with the idea of being someone's. The idea that I can finally tell off someone who flirts with me, "Sorry, but I'm taken."

I love the way you smile. I love the way you laugh. The way you blush when I tell you that you're beautiful and the way you tell me about your hopes and dreams.

I love the way you're so passionate about your studies and about life in general.

You see, I love a lot of things about you.

But I don't love you.

I tried saying it out loud. I tried telling myself that maybe love isn't falling head over heels for someone. I tried telling myself that what I felt for you is love.

But I can't.

And I tried ignoring the incessant voice inside of my head telling me that it was all a mistake. That I was living a lie and I was telling everyone that I love you because I figured sooner or later I would finally believe in my own lies.

But that voice inside of my head was right.

We had a fight and I got mad at you. We made up. And we fight again... and again. And I finally realize why. I was trying to push you away.

I have no reasons or excuses as to why I did the things I did the other night and for that I am truly sorry.

You deserve someone who loves you will all his heart and that someone isn't me.

You said all the right things, but all to the wrong person.

I still care about you, though. And that will never change. And I don't think I will ever stop caring about you.

And I hate myself for hurting you like that. or like this.

And I didn't want it to end it like that. Not in a million years. But I did want it to end. I really do.

I thought I could stay and fight for you, fight for us, but when I realize that you, too, were too tired to fight - I realize that I cannot hurt you any longer.

I will always hurt people that I care about and I cannot justify how much of a monster I can be.

I am not perfect. But that isn't an excuse for the way I acted. It's me telling you that it wasn't your fault. It was all me.

Please take care. And the next guy you're falling in love with better treat you right, because if he doesn't then it's his loss.

I know it was mine.

I am sorry and I hope somehow you will able to forgive me. But I would totally understand if you can't.

Thanks for the amazing memories. Go and make new ones :)

Bukhari Explains: Growing Apart

2014-01-25T19:59:00.000+08:00

One of the hardest thing you have to learn all on your own is that people grow apart. And sometimes, not always, that means separation.

No matter how close you were with someone, someday you wake up and you realize that you haven't talked to them in months. You haven't texted them in weeks. And you haven't thought about them in days.

You guys are still best friends. They still mean a lot to you. But you grew apart.

You love them. You care a lot about them. Your feelings towards them haven't and will never change. You wouldn't hesitate to be the shoulder for them to cry on whenever they need it. You would still die for them.

But you grew apart.

Because as we get older, we change. We learn new things. We change our ideals. We change the way we view the world. We change the way we carry ourselves.

And they change, too.

And unfortunately, sometimes changing means that you are no longer walking on the same road.

We meet new people and we love new people.

And they learn new things and they discover new places.

And when you do meet with each other, it's as if you've never stopped talking in the first place. You reminisce the times you used to have. And wishing you can go back to the way things were.

But you've grown apart. Somehow they no longer fit with your puzzle pieces like how they used to.

And eventually you will say your goodbyes and you will tell them to take care. And you make them promise to call you whenever they need you for anything.

You love them and they love you.

But you just simply... grew apart.

Bukhari Explains: Why We Don't Always Wanna Talk About It

2014-01-19T19:19:00.000+08:00

Everyone is fighting battles that no one else knows about. Our silent struggles. Our secret battle wounds. Our hidden scars.

We can talk about it. We can tell our friends. We can ask our family for help.

But we don't. Not always. Not even when they offer their help.

Because despite of everything, you know once they get into the same battle as you are in, they will get hurt. Maybe not as much, but maybe even more.

Our struggles will be their struggles.

Our battle wounds will be their battle wounds.

And our scars will be their scars.

And we love them too much to not let that happen.

We love them too much.

It doesn't make sense. I know.

I am not saying you shouldn't talk to people about it. I am not discouraging you to tell people about your problems.

I am just saying that, I understand if you won't. It's not that you don't trust people. It's not that you are being stubborn, antisocial and wanting to be independent.

It's you, in your own ridiculous way, of protecting the people that you care about.

How Do I Know?

2014-01-04T16:25:00.002+08:00

*wipes off dust and cobwebs*

This post has been in the draft section since last year. Which is really just last week. Haha. I don't know why I didn't post this then. Well I'm posting it now.

I think it's cute when my friends ask me for relationship advices. I am that friend that is single but thinks he is emotionally capable of understanding what it's like to be in a relationship. Mostly I give clichés like, "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be" or "Please stop asking me questions, I have to learn about Trichomonas vaginalis."

But the other day I was talking to my friend and it goes something like this:

"Hey, how do I know if he's the one?" She asked.

"Why can't we ever have a normal conversation?"

"C'mon! I'm serious. How do I know? I really don't want to commit unless I am sure about it. The last time I did, I got hurt real bad."

"I know. I was there." I said.

"So you know how important it is for me to know whether this guy is the right one."

I sighed and I paused for a while.

"Do you have a pen and a piece of paper with you?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay. I want you to write down 10 things that you are most insecure about yourself. The things you don't like about yourself. The things that you wish you can change but you can't. The things that you wish you never had. Or the things that people always tease you about. The things that haunt you. The things that keep you awake at night."

"Um.. okay."

I waited for her to list them down. It didn't take her long.

"Okay I got them," she said.

"Okay. That's NOT a list of the things you should change. Or a list of your weaknesses. That's a checklist. How you know if he's the one? If he loves everything about you, including those 10 things in your list. Someone who thinks you're not less than perfect. Someone who celebrates you for that 10 things. Someone that understand that those 10 things don't define you but they are still a part of you. He is the one, if he makes you kinda glad that you have those 10 things."

"But how do I know whether he loves these 10 things?"

"If he is the one, he will make sure you know."

"I'm just scared. What if this one doesn't work out?"

"Look, sometimes you gotta stop asking yourself 'what if it doesn't work out' ...

and start asking yourself...

what if it does?"

Who Broke You?

2013-12-07T18:02:00.000+08:00

So who broke you?

I'm sorry, what?

You're broken. Who did it?

What makes you think that I'm broken?

I can see it.

What do you see?

I see the way you smile sometimes. The way you stretch the edges of your lips as if it's the hardest thing you ever have to do.

I see the way you laugh. You laugh a little bit louder, a little bit longer, as if you're afraid that you might not get to laugh again.

I see the way you hug people. You hug them a little bit tighter because you are secretly afraid of being the first one to let go.

I see the way you walk. With your face towards the ground because you're afraid that people might catch your eyes and they can see right through your walls.

I notice how you are in a room full of people. How you put yourself in one corner of the room and you secretly wish you're somewhere else.

I also notice the things that you write. It's beautiful. In a way that only broken people can write.

But most of all, I notice how you didn't deny that you are broken when I asked who broke you.

You noticed a lot about me.

I guess I can't help it.

So... who broke YOU?

Now what makes YOU think that I am like you?

Broken people desperately look for others like them, people who would understand.

You think that we look for the ones like us because in order for people to fit into our lives, they themselves must be broken, too?

Because two broken people, together, can finally become complete.

And isn't that a dangerous thing?

To become complete?

No. To admit that you can only be complete if you are attached to someone else.

Because then it means, if they ever go, if they walk away, you are left broken once again?

Yes

So what do we do?

I guess, we kinda forgot that the broken pieces of ourselves do not lie in other people.

It's somewhere inside of us. It's just that after so long, we forgot what it looks like.

Something like that, yeah.

How can we find it?

I haven't figured that one out yet. I'll let you know once I do.

Okay.

So... who broke you?

Of Blogging and Erectile Dysfunction

2013-11-30T00:10:00.001+08:00

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother blogging. Like um... no my life isn't that interesting to talk about which kinda explains why my blog is almost never about the things that I did or about the places I went or the funny things that happened.

It's much, much more about the things that keep me awake at nights, those voices inside my head that just won't shut up.

But more than that, I wonder why do I even blog because... maybe i kinda, a teeny-weeny bit, regret writing the things that I wrote.

For example, I Whatsapped a friend of mine the other day:

Me: Had a bad day in class today :(

Friend: What happened?

Me: We were learning on the reproductive system. And the lecturer mentioned a few drugs that can cause erectile dysfunction. Apparently antidepressants are one of them.

Friend: So?

Me: Remember i wrote in my blog about me taking Sertraline? Yeah. Now the whole class probably think i have erectile dysfunction.

Friend: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Me: It's not funny okay!?

Friend: Do you?

Me: Do I what?

Friend: Have erectile dysfunction...

Me: NO!

Friend: Prove it!

Me: WTF HAHAHAHAHHHA

Friend: HAHAHAHA!!

So you can understand why sometimes, just sometimes, blogging the things you think about isn't a good idea. Haha.

But you know what makes it all worth it?

When you get the randomest people pm-ing you on Facebook just to say thank you for writing the things that you wrote.

People telling you how they are thankful that they finally found someone who they can relate to.

People asking you advices, people asking you how did you do it, people asking you how the fudge do you keep on smiling when they can't even find the reason to wake up every day.

I am not saying that I am glad these people have similar problems as I do.

But you know like how when you're Googling for a really random question, and the search result comes up and someone already asked the same question on Yahoo and you're like oh god thank you you just saved my life?

It's like that. You're glad someone is going through, or has gone through, the things you are going through. You feel like your problems are validated, they aren't just in your head, they're real. I understand why people appreciate that.

When I was battling severe depression, I couldn't find anyone who I can relate to. I was alone. Not physically, though. Mentally and emotionally. Like I cannot for the life of me imagine anyone else going through similar things as I was going through.

But I survived. And I vowed to not let that happen to anyone else. So I write the things other people might not want to write about, or things people might not want to even read - because if I can make someone, even if just one person, feel like they are not alone, then it's worth it.

It's worth every odd stares that I get from the people I meet.

It's worth the whispers they think I cannot hear.

It's worth that sad, pity look they give me every time they talk to me.

It's worth every word.

And a personal thanks to a friend of mine, who gave me a link to her blog, detailing things that she has gone through as well. I woke up randomly at 4am the other day, and i felt extremely lonely. And I asked God to give me the strength to keep on going. And a few minutes later, my phone beeped and it was her, she messaged me a link to her blog. And I read it, and I cried. What she's going through, I can really, really relate to that. And for the first time, I found someone I can look up to and know for a fact - I am not alone in this.

Thank you. You know who you are. Allah bless you. :)

And as always, have a good weekend!

I Forgive You, I Forgive Me

2013-11-11T00:36:00.000+08:00

I think the hardest part was not in forgiving people. The hardest part was to forgive yourself. To understand that it wasn't your fault that you got hurt.

That no matter how much people told you that 'You should have known better' - you didn't. You make mistakes, so you have to pay for them. You have to learn from them. But more importantly, you have to live with them.

So I forgive you.

And I forgive me.

Forgiving them doesn't mean you still want them in your life. No. Sometimes, you have cut them off so that they can't come any closer to hurt you again.

Just because they said they're sorry, doesn't mean they've changed. Doesn't mean they won't do it again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

So cut them off from your life, if you must. If you can. If you are brave enough.

You were perfectly fine before they came into your life. You will be perfectly fine without them.

When God takes away people you never imagine losing, He will replace them with people you could never imagine having.

So if you're reading this, I wanna say I'm sorry. For refusing to stay friends because friends don't hurt each other like that. For refusing to pretend nothing ever happened because it did.

I'm sorry that you're hurt. But don't put the blame on me. You were the one who walked away, I only close the door.

So goodbye. Thank you for being such a great chapter in my life. But I'm burning away that book and starting new one.

Wish me luck.

Of Sertraline and Serenity

2013-10-19T02:28:00.005+08:00

One part that I find to be the hardest when it comes to blogging is to come up with a really good intro. I really feel like the hardest part is to start. The introduction has to be interesting because... I am not good looking enough for you to keep reading this if it's not. Hahaha.

And I do understand that lately I've been writing on things that are... well... unhappy. And it confuses people. Because when they see me or when they talk to me, I am probably one of the happiest people they know. I can make them laugh till they feel a six-pack coming. (really I make such a good workout who needs gym heh?). I can make them smile even when they don't want to. So I understand how people can even ask me whether I was being real. Are all my laughters and smiles fake?

The short answer would be, no.

I wanna tell you guys something. Something that I've been meaning to write for months now. Things that definitely changed me. Things that still haunt me to this day. Things that make me realize that I cannot go back to the way things were.

It was about two months ago when I quit blogging. And I honestly thought I will never blog again. Not because I was tired of it, not because I hated it. But because I've stopped wanting to connect with people.

I also deactivated my Twitter, Instagram and Keek. All because I was trying to cut myself off from the world. If they can't reach me, they can't help me.

I had a mental breakdown. The worst I ever had. It was painful to even breathe, it was painful to live. I locked myself in the room for two days. I rejected phone calls and ignored messages.

I have no explanation to why I did all those things. And I wish I can tell you what really happened but it involves so many people that I still care about, telling you guys would affect them, too.

It is enough for you to know that when it happened, I stopped trying. I stopped praying, I stopped thanking Him for waking me up every day. Every morning I would sigh with regret wondering why I had to wake up for another day.

I was scared. Of what I was capable of. And I knew if it kept on going, I would lose it.

So I called my parents, and I told them that I had to go back home.

Only a handful of people knew I went back to Malaysia during a lecture week, and fewer people knew the reason why.

My depression didn't start two months ago. It started when I was 12. From my insecurities, to my family problems to me not being sure of who I was. It stemmed from me not knowing who I want to be, and from people telling me that I was doing it all wrong.

And because going back home, even though I was supposed to have class affected my attendance, I had to provide a medical certificate or else I would be barred from taking the Semester One exam.

And I didn't have any medical certificate to give.

And I told the Dean of why I actually went back. And she suggested that I go to a specialist, to get me certified for an actual clinical depression and to produce a legit medical certificate.

I was reluctant to go. I was scared. But I had to do it.

It was three days before my exams when I went to the hospital, alone. I was nervous. What if my friends from college see me? What if they started asking what was I doing in the Neuroscience department? What do I tell them? What will they assume?

After I have told the Doctor everything about my situation, he asked me what I wanted from him.

I told him all I wanted was the certificate. All I wanted was to be able to take the exam. I don't want any medication, I don't want any therapy.

He understood. But he told me that they have amazing drugs that could help me overcome my depression. Drugs that can make me feel better. Drugs that can make all these, tolerable.

Sertraline.

I was scared to take it. What if I get dependent on it? What if I get addicted to it?

What if I can't live without it?

The doctor assured me that the chance of that happening is slim. The drug will be given in small doses, and limited to only 15 pills and I were to come back every 15 days to get new batches of those pills. This will control my intake, as well as to monitor my compliance.

And above all, to make sure I don't abuse it.

But the idea of taking drugs absolutely terrified me. I feel crippled. Like when everyone else is capable of being happy by just thinking happy thoughts, I wasn't.

I feel like an absolute fake because my happiness would be the result of a chemical reaction between my receptors and the drug.

"Antidepressants don't cure depression. They manage it."

I understood that.

But I went back home that day, with 15 Sertraline pills in my pocket.

***

That night, after dinner, I took one pill and put it in my hand. How does this actually work, I wondered. How can this tiny pill make me feel happy?

I took a deep breath. Put the pill in my mouth and swallowed.

I don't know what I expected. I was half-expecting to see unicorns suddenly jumping out of the walls and dance merrily around me. Or maybe suddenly the world is made of candies and diabetes is something that is fictional and I can eat all that I want.

But it didn't feel that way. Instead, I feel numb. And it wasn't because of the drug. The effect will only start the next morning. So I realized, that I was numb because for the first time, I wasn't thinking of the things that made me sad. I wasn't thinking. Period.

And being numb felt so good.

***

When I woke up the next day, I was sure that I feel no different. Was I overjoyed? No. Did I feel like dancing naked in the field? No. (Partly because that would get me arrested.)

But I feel... okay. And 'okay' is a start. I hadn't felt okay in a long time.

It wasn't until the third day of taking the drug that I realized I hadn't cried myself to sleep. I've stopped thinking about the things that make me sad. I could even smile without being sure the reason why.

I felt... perhaps... happy.

And that kinda makes me feel sad. Because a small part of me wonders if I was being really happy. Was it the drugs? Or was it me?

And what scares me was that I was starting to get slightly dependent on it.

Not addicted. Dependent.

I didn't take more than one pill per day. I don't feel like I NEED to take it. But I know that if I don't, I will have another breakdown.

So that scared me. A lot.

***

I was packing my bags for my 8-days trip to Kashmir when I realized that I only had 5 pills left. And I was to leave the next morning so it was impossible to go to the hospital to take more.

The very idea of not taking the drug was enough to make me feel sick. I was on the drug for 10 days then, and I forgot how it feels like to be sad. I was terrified of what will happen if I don't take it for a few days.

On the first day, at the airport, I didn't take the pill. I figured that the journey will take the whole day so even without the pill, that would keep me preoccupied and distracted.

And it did. I wasn't sad or depressed because I was too excited for the trip. So far, so good, I thought.

But that night, when we arrived, I felt a sudden surge of emotion hitting me like a sumo-wrestler. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I knew I was having withdrawal symptoms. It's uncommon with Sertraline, most probably not due to the drugs, but because of my own negative thoughts.

I believed not taking the drugs would make me sad, so it did.

But I told myself that I have to get through this. That I am stronger than I thought I was.

That night, I slept, thankful that I survived the whole day without the drug.

***

Kashmir was my drug. Turns out I didn't even have to take Sertraline because being in such beautiful places with amazing friends made me so happy, the happiest I've felt in years.

Kashmir was exactly what I needed and Alhamdulilah, for the rest of the trip I was smiling.

***

So I've stopped taking the pill now.

And I am sure you have a lot of questions in mind.

"Are you okay now? Are you happy?"

If happiness is defined as wanting to randomly sing Disney songs in the middle of the forest with squirrels and chipmunks, then no.

But if happiness is defined as being thankful of all the things that I have, feeling loved by friends and family, and feeling that I am lucky to be where I am right now - then yes, I am happy.

"Are you still depressed?"

Depression is something I would have to live with for the rest of my life. It comes and goes. When it does come, it hits hard. But the good thing is, I become stronger each time. And I've stopped feeling sorry for myself. I started each day with a smile, and I end my days with thanking Him for all the good things that has happened to me.

"Why are you telling us this?"

Because I want you to know that that boy that made you smile today could be depressed. And it's okay. Depression is not the opposite of happiness. The human emotion is complex. Happiness is not the absence of sadness but it is the sense of gratitude and love of yourself and others.

When you can accept your own flaws, when you have forgiven those who have hurt you, when you can look into the mirror and like what you see, when you can be thankful for the things that you do have, when you feel loved by those who matter - then you are happy. Even if you're sad, you're still happy. Does that make sense?

I also want people to know that sometimes I won't be in a good mood. So please forgive me. I do try to smile to everyone, everyday. But sometimes I can't. I do hope people don't have this high expectation of me to be always happy. Sometimes I get down. But trust me, I will always get back up. I promise.

"Are you writing this to gain attention?"

The reason that I was so reluctant to write this in the first place is exactly because I was so scared that people might think that I am writing this to beg for sympathy or to appear like I am a victim and I should be respected for being a survivor blablabla.

I do want attention. But not for myself. I want to bring attention on depression itself. Often I hear people correlate depression with something that is negative. That everyone who admits that they are depressed are doing it for attention. When in fact, most of the time, they are actually asking for help.

Depression is common. The extend of depression varies from people to people. And while depression is manageable, unfortunately however, it is not fully treatable.

Depressed people are not always suicidal. We don't blame everything that has happened to other people or to God. We don't look at the glass half-empty.

We smile, we laugh and we are sincere about it.

One thing that being depressed has taught me is how to appreciate those small happy moments that life has given us. I learn how to let go of people who leave, and I learn to hold on to those who stay.

I learn that families are not those who merely share the same DNA as you, but those who stayed when the situation gets difficult.

I learn that I have a lot to be thankful of and that everyone has their own sets of challenges in life.

I also learn that happiness is not the destination, it's the journey. Full with obstacles, detours, u-turns and forks. But it's how we walk through it, and who we walk through it - determines how happy we are.

I wish I can say that this post has a happy ending. I wish I can assure you that I will always be happy.

But that's not what life is all about, is it?

How can you appreciate joy if you've never experienced sorrow?

Am I happy?

Yes. Yes, I am.

As always, Peace be upon you all. And thank you for reading this ridiculously long blog post.

Love and Attachments

2013-06-18T03:17:00.001+08:00

When I was younger, I watched a few documentaries on turtles and how they mate and lay eggs and etc. And I would always wonder what the mother turtles feel about leaving their youngs unattended.

'Mom, don't the mama turtles love their babies?'

And I remember being confused when I first learn that most animals don't mate for life. I honestly thought that animals do get married and have their own little ceremonies and live in one family in their own little house. I blame Disney for this. Haha.

I remember being confused because I thought in order to make babies, you must love. And if animals love their partners, they would stay together till forever, right?

'Honey, look. The mommy turtle is crying.'

12 years later, it finally make sense. People say that turtles cry when they lay eggs because either a) it's painful or b) because of the sand.

But what if, it's because they love? Or they're scared? Or both.

Now that im 21 i finally realize that love does not equate to attachment.

Just because you love someone doesn't mean you have to be together.

And just because you're not together, doesn't mean you don't love them.

For all we know the mother turtles are constantly thinking about their 1000 babies... but life goes on.

And animals mate with different partners for survival.

And sometimes being alive trumps being in love. Being attached to someone for life can be harmful for the survival of certain species.

I guess.

So... how are we different?

I guess I finally understood that love is never about physical attachment. But understanding it doesn't mean it gets any easier.

Sometimes loving means letting go. If not for your survival, for theirs.

I Do.

2013-05-21T01:36:00.000+08:00

Have you ever been so sure that the person you like, likes you back?

And you walk towards them and you're like all ready to tell them that you like them.

But before you could say it, they like, 'I have something I wanna tell you.'

And you're all like, in your head, Omg is it what i think it is?

And they're like, 'I like someone'.

And you're like, in your head, Please say it's me.

And they tell you.

...

And it's not you.

And they say, 'But that person doesn't like me back'.

And they like continue, 'You have no idea how it feels to like someone who doesn't like you back'.

And you're like, in your head:

I f*cking do.

Of Quiche and Quitting

2013-03-26T01:10:00.001+08:00

I was at the counter looking at the cakes and pastry they had displayed in The Upstairs Cafe when my phone rang.

'Hello?'

"Ari!" It was my dad. "Where are you?"

"Out with my friends. Why? Are you home?"

"No. Listen, you're free on the 9th?' And before I could reply, he continued, "We're going back to Kelantan."

He told me a week before that he'll be having a meeting over there and suggested we go visit my grandparents.

'"Oh, okay. Sure, cool." I mumbled as I admired the cafe's red velvet cakes.

"And I already booked a place for us on Pulau Perhentian. I was thinking we can go there on the weekends."

"Oh?" I was caught of guard. I guess I didn't answer him in time because my dad then asked "Is that okay?"

"Well... Uh..." I stammered. "It's just that... Mom was planning a trip to Singapore on the same weekend."

It was my dad's turn to be surprised. "But I've booked...."

My heart sank. "I know. But... you didn't ask me whether I'm free on that day..."

"You SAID you were free..." he said.

"Yeah, but only on the 9th till the weekend. Mom had planned this..."

"Okay, fine then. I'll just cancel the booking then. Don't want you to get mad at me."

I didn't know what to say. I just kept quite and he hung up on me without saying goodbye.

I was about to cry there and then.

"I'm sorry, sir. Would you like to order?"

Can I have my family back?

"One quiche, please."

***

That wasn't the first time I was forced to make a choice of which parent I must disappoint in order to please the other.

I guess it comes with the separation. My parents had been separated for more than three years now. It wasn't a secret. I just don't tell people.

I mean, if people were to straight up and ask whether my parents are still together, I would say no. But nobody ever asked. Why would they?

I guess I don't tell people coz I don't wanna make it a big deal. Once people find out that your family isn't that perfect they'll start to look at you differently. They'll treat you differently. They promise they won't... but they do. I've seen it. I've felt it. I hated it.

'Hey, do you know his parents are separated?'

'Omg is that why he's been acting so weird?'

Bullshit.

I'm not saying the separation doesn't affect me. In so many ways I was forced to realize that life isn't a fairy tale.

I have parents who are no longer together, but they're not divorced. When there's no closure, I guess, as the children, we're trying to find the definition of our current situation.

You don't know how to define your parents' relationship. And thus you don't know how to create boundaries, we have no clue how to enforce rules and we have no idea how to act.

Are they staying together? No.

Do they still love each other? I don't know.

Do they still speak to each other? No.

Are you happy about this? I don't know.

In so many ways I am glad they got separated when I was 17. In other ways, I was not. It happened just before my SPM. Not enough that I had to see my dad sleep on the couch every night, I had to see them walk pass each other like they're strangers.

But I guess the worst part was that the whole family pretended nothing had happened.

But I'm glad that I was matured enough to understand that it wasn't anyone's fault that it happened.

I was old enough to not let it affect how I feel about both of them. I was wise enough to know they still love me no matter what and nothing has changed.

But still.

I remember crying at nights. I remember having to fake smiles when people are talking about how perfect their families are. I remember being afraid to fall in love. I remember feeling like I was walking on mine fields and at any moment I would make one mistake and explode to pieces.

I guess the worst part is not having anyone to talk to. It's not that I don't trust people, it's not that I don't think they can handle my problems.

I knew that if I tell them, things will be different. Not in a bad way. But I hate different. I hate changes.

So for as long as I can, I will try to make my friendships as less about my problems as possible. I mean, who cares right? Who can help anyway? Who would listen?

So what am I doing now? Why am I writing this? I guess this is a cry for help. I can't do this anymore. I can't please both parents and I can't make one happy without disappointing the other.

I can't be at two places at once. I can't pretend to be happy anymore. I'm tired of trying to make everyone laugh just so that they won't think I am unhappy.

I'm sick of laughing when I can feel the tears welling up inside. I had enough of pretending to be someone that I am not. I cannot afford to wear this mask any longer.

I'm taking it off.

Mom, Dad. I know you're reading this. And this is me saying that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this happened. I'm sorry things aren't perfect. I'm sorry that I cannot make you both happy. I'm sorry about everything.

I'm just so... tired.

Friends VS Boyfriends

2012-12-13T02:54:00.002+08:00

I miss those days when people are not busy looking for a relationship. Seems like nowadays everywhere you turn you'll see new couples popping up like mushrooms. Hormones? Seasonal flu? Whatever it is, i seem to be immuned to it.

At just a glance this tweet probably seems factual. That is, however, impossible to determine because there is no valid experiment to prove this theory and im pretty sure no valid statistic has taken place before this 'fact' came up.

But why the popular belief that people who are in a relationship tend to lose a friend a year?

Maybe because we all have lost a friend that way?

People change when they get into a relationship. No doubt. You are just not the same anymore when you've made that kind of commitment. And this change IS NOT BAD. In fact, i think it's mostly good. From my humble view, people who are in a relationship tend to become more matured, wise, loving and protective. They HAVE to change because suddenly, they don't just live for themselves anymore, but for somebody else. That kind of responsibility changes you.

So why the hate? Why do we, the single, left-out friends, moan and complain on how much our friends have changed and how much we miss the old them?

Because we're actually scared. Suddenly, we might not be the most important person in our friends' lives anymore. Suddenly we have to share. Suddenly, this newcomer steals the spotlight. Suddenly, there's competition.

We don't hate how our friends have changed, we're scared of how a relationship changes the dynamic of the friendship.

Bros before hoes? Great in theory, poor in practice.

In total honesty, I DON'T think that people who are in a relationship lose friends because they became overly occupied with their partners and started ignoring their friends.

I believe the real reason is that we, the friends, started ignoring them first.

We hated sooo much of the possibility that our friends might change - WE ourselves changed. We become bitter. We push away our friends and their partners because we're scared. We think that "Before they hurt me, I should retreat."

We ignore invites to go out because we hate being the third-wheel.

We dismiss an invitation to lunch because we gag every time we see them hold hands.

We don't pick up the phone call because we know, they're gonna talk about their partner and how amazing things are - when all u can think of is how much you don't wanna hear about it.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm not matured enough. I should get used to the fact that we're getting older, and finding partners is an important part of growing up. That wanting to find the missing piece of your heart is nature's way of showing that we're entering adulthood.

I just miss those days when you're "friends forever". But now it seems like you're "friends forever, at least until one of us gets married".

But hey, whatever happened to 'I'm happy when you're happy'? Aren't we supposed to be happy that our friends are happier that way? We should be.

And we will. I'm in the process of accepting that maybe relationship isn't the enemy here, maybe it's me.

We shouldn't let our fear of losing the friendship change us in a way that we start building a wall between our friends and us. We should see that a relationship as an extension to our circle of friends, that our friend's partner is also a friend of ours. And if our friend loves him/her that much, maybe we should put in more effort to at least be happy for them.

I have no idea why I'm crapping about this at such hours. Sucks to be you for reading it till this far. Hahaha.

I promise I'll update more. Until later, then.

XOXO

Monster

2012-09-23T23:35:00.001+08:00

When we were kids, our parents had to convince us that there are no monsters in our closets, or ogres under our beds. We were told that there is nothing to be afraid of and that we're perfectly safe and sound.

But nobody warned us of a different kind of monster.

Are we ever safe from the monster, within?

Turn back time back into my primary school years and anybody who knew me back way back then can tell you that I was not the same person I am today. Shy, socially awkward and a geek - I wasn't exactly the most popular kid in school.

I get teased a lot when I was younger. Teased for my skin colour, the way I look, the way I talked, or walked or smiled - you name it. That lead to me being shy. For a long time, I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. I was convinced that I was ugly. And to compensate, I had to be funny. So that's how I get friends. I was always the funny one, the smart one. And for a while, I was comfortable with that title.

But then I grew up, and with new circles of friends I became much more confident. I was a late bloomer and soon I was comfortable in my own skin. And with that newfound confidence, I began to change.

This is not the story of how I was bullied and how I managed to rise above it.

That was just the beginning.

This is the story of how I became the bully.

Forward a few years later, when I was 15, there was a new kid in school. Let's call him A. And like all new students, he tried desperately to fit in. However, his method was awkward. HE was awkward. And weird. So it's no surprise, he wasn't getting any attention. I knew A back from primary school, though. He got transferred after that but he came back. So naturally, A treated me like his old friend.

But I was mean. When in front of him I would be nice and friendly, I would talk bad about him behind his back. In front of my friends, I make fun of the way he walked, the way he talked and the way he look. Sounds familiar? I did to him the exact same thing people used to do to me. But I was worse. While the kids in primary school wasn't doing it to be mean, I was.

I paid the ultimate price of being confident, I became a monster. With every chance I can get, my friends and I constantly made fun of him and laugh at his failed attempts to be one of us. It wasn't my proudest moment, I admit. But at that time, I was enjoying myself. Finally the tables have turned, I have friends and somebody else didn't.

And then one day, A messaged me on Myspace. He said some things that I couldn't remember. Possibly my head blocked the memory out, but he said something that annoyed me. I couldn't remember what he said but I remember what I replied.

I told him that he was a loser, straight to his face (not literally, through Myspace.) I told him how he had no friends and how he should look into the mirror and realize how awkward he really looked like. I told him that nobody liked him, and he was just making a fool out of himself.

And i turned off my computer.

That night, I got a call from my friend, A got into a car accident.

A died.

I swear to God, at that time, it felt like the whole universe had stopped. I could hear my friend still talking on the phone but I didn't care. I hung up and I fell on my knees and cried. I cried huge sobbing tears and I was gasping for air. And all I could think about was how it was my fault. Somehow, I killed him. I just knew.

I waited for someone to call me back and tell me how it was just a joke. A cruel joke, I wouldn't care. But that call never came.

That night, a part of me died with him.

The next morning was his funeral. I went to his house and there he was, his body covered with white cloths and his body was laid in the living room. His mom, whom I was very close to, asked me if I wanted to see him for the last time. I couldn't say no, but I was scared. The cloth that was covering his face was lifted and I see the boy I once knew. I see myself. I see a misunderstood boy, I see a lonely person.

His mother turned to me and said 'If he had done any sins unto you, please find in your heart the courage to forgive him."

I cried. I wanted to tell his mom that I was the one who should ask for forgiveness, that I was the one who had sinned. I wanted to tell his mom everything that I had done. I wanted to confess that I wasn't the person she thought I was. I am a fake. A fraud. A monster.

But what I told his mom instead was that A had no sins with me. And I left.

We went to the mosque to pray for A and soon to a grave site where he was buried. Everything passed as a blur.

That night, when i turned on my computer, I saw that A had replied the message I sent him, just hours before the accident.

He said: I am sorry that you feel that way. I want to make it up to you, please can we talk about this? Can we hang out sometime?

It didn't make sense. I was so mean to him. Why?

I guess I would never find out why. A died not knowing that I am sorry. He died before I could ever have the chance of telling him that the reason I was so mean to him was because I see so much of myself inside him. So much so that he reminded me of how much a loser I thought I was. I hated him, because I hated myself.

Dear readers, sometimes a bully can be a huge, muscular man who pushes you around.

But most of the time, a bully looks just like you and me. Bullies who hurt people not by their physical actions, but by words. Bullies who were bullied themselves at one point. A forced participant in the never-ending cycle of revenge.

We've heard of stories of people who are bullied, but almost never people who bully. This is my story, my regrets and my mistakes.

This is the ghost that haunts me every night.

This is my monster in the closet.

I cannot ask you to not judge me. I deserve every bit of scrutiny and judgment and hate. But if you are anything like me, I am asking you to stop. Don't do the same mistakes as I did.

The reason I'm so outspoken about bullying is because I knew firsthand how deadly it can be for the victims and for the bully themselves.

If you're thinking of making fun of anyone, stop yourself. You will hurt that person more than you think. And you will hurt yourself more than you care to admit.

Goodnight.

Little Miss Naughty

2012-09-05T18:54:00.000+08:00

Dear Jasmine,

I wish I could be there to send you off to Canada. You'll be leaving Malaysia tonight. And you won't come back for a long time. I won't get the chance to see you for one last time before you leave. But that's okay.

Dear Jasmine,

Wanna know how much you affect me? Well, let's just put it this way - if we had never met, I wouldn't be me. I would be a panda. No... haha kidding. That was a joke. Everyone knows I would be a unicorn. A majestic unicorn with majestic rainbow tail. Ok, I should stop. People are getting jealous.

Remember how we met? No, me neither. Haha. Remember when you were taller than me? No, me neither. Hahahaha. Okay I'm getting annoying.

*SeriousModeOn*

Remember when we were kids, and I was the quite one and you were... well... you. But you were always kind. I don't mean it in a cheesy way. You were always there for people. You were always smiling. And believe in or not, there was this one point in my life that I asked God to make me as outgoing as you. You were an inspiration. No, wait... still is. I don't know how you do it but you can give the biggest smile even when I know you just wanna cry. You can make people laugh even when I know you're feeling like a mess.

It's amazing how we get so close in just a few years. We started really talking when we're 16 and the rest was history. Having you in our class was a blessing. I cannot handle being the only good looking person in the class. haha. My highschool days wudn't be as awesome without you. Thank you for that.

Dear Jasmine,

We may not share everything with each other, but that does not mean it's due to the lack of trust. It seems that we communicate not by speech, but through our hearts. (Oh man, this is getting cheesy. haha). We don't always tell each other when we're down or sad or something... but we always sorta know. And we don't always try to solve each other's problem, but instead we cheered each other up and we let each other know that we'll always be there. That's the magic of our friendship.

I will never forget you, Jasmine. You're a huge chapter in my book of life. A piece that completes the intricate puzzle of my personality. The right atrium to my heart. (I'm revising my medical terms as I blog - multitasking is my thang~).

Do take care. I know it's silly asking you to take care as you're the bravest, smartest person I know. Enjoy your time over there. And once in a while, let's Skype :) Go meet a lot of Canadian men and drool over them (Or canadian women, whatever floats your boat.) Haha. Study smart and don't overwork yourself.

And please, PLEASE don't hesitate to contact us if you have any problem. We may be thousands of miles apart but that doesn't mean we can't help each other out.

Last but not least, thank you. Thank you for being there. Thank you for staying true to yourself. Thank you for making me feel comfortable in my own skin. Thank you for your wise words. Thank you for your support.

Thank you for being my best friend.

Best friend forever? That's not a statement. That's a promise.

And just to make you cry a little more, here are some of the pictures you'll definitely miss :P

Remember this? This was one of my first profile picture in facebook. And youre in it. That's how much i love you tau!

Together, we'll touch the sky <3

We've shared laughter...

Discussed philosophies...

We had our arguments...

But the argument never last long, because photo time wud always be around the corner.

Here's to an ever-lasting friendship.

You're our Little Miss Naughty <3

Your most good-looking friend, AB.

Of Being Just Friends

2012-08-22T09:00:00.000+08:00

Everyone talks about being Friendzoned. How much it hurts... how embarassing it can get... how pathetic you can feel. In fact, what scares us the most about confessing our real feelings to our friends-who-we-want-to-be-more-than-just, is the infamous phrase:

"I think we're better off as just friends".

Because we don't wanna be JUST friends. We can't sleep, we can't eat and we can't stand knowing that THAT person you love is just a touch away but you can't have them the way you wanna have them.

So, you see, above all people, i know how it feels...

But no one talks about being the person who does the friendzone. The friendzone-r. The 'bad' guy.

No one talks about how hard it is having to say to your bestfriend, 'I don't like you LIKE that'. No one seems to care that as much as the person who is friendzoned is hurt, the person who friendzones is in deep pain too. It seems less tragic, less pitiful... but the pain is real.

So when you told me you like me, i already knew. It was obvious but I was hoping that I was wrong. Our friendship means a lot to me. But no matter how close we are I can't seem to imagine myself liking you that way. So i told you that. Exactly that. I told you how much you mean to me, how much i dont want our friendship to end just because a higher level of relationship is impossible.

You said okay. You said we'll still be friends. You said things wouldn't be awkward. I believed you. I was glad. I was wrong.

You removed me from Facebook. Probably blocked my number and I never heard from you again.

You literally became somebody that I used to know.

Sometimes you hurt people because they hurt you back. But what you did to me is far worse then what I did to you.

Dear readers,

Yes sure it hurts knowing the person you love can never love you back the same way. But it hurts even more knowing that your friendship doesn't mean anything if it doesn't lead to the next level. That the friendship can be thrown away if it can't be used as a ladder for something more. That the friendship is just a 'tool'.

Yes sure it hurts knowing you will never get what you WANT . But it hurts even more knowing that you just lost what you NEED.

Ladies and gentlemen, I did not write this post to brag about how I'm the cool one who refused a relationship. Nor to make myself seem like a saint.

I write this to tell u that people who are Friendzoned aren't the victim. Nobody is. I write this to tell you that when someone tells you that they think you guys are better off as friends - most of the time, they f*cking mean it. They dont just say it to 'escape' or to use that as an excuse.

Im not saying you shouldn't friendzone people. Im just saying that you can't choose who you love. And you can't make someone love you.

Im not saying there's a lot more fishes in the ocean. I know how it feels to want that ONE fish.

Im saying these things happen and one day you'll find out that the things that you want aren't the things that you need.

Goodnight.

The Do's and Dont's in Taking SPM results.

2012-03-20T19:42:00.001+08:00

I remember when it was my time to take my SPM results, roughly 2 years ago. I got a lot of tips, mostly bullshits I didn't listen to anyway. I hear a lot of what people have got to say about it, what people say i should do and what i shouldn't do and yadidi yadada blablabla.

But honestly, they were not being honest.

So here I am writing about the real deal of taking any HUGE examination's results. SPM, in particular, because the result will be out tomorrow.

DO be nervous.
You will get a lot of 'Oh dont be nervous, sweetie-pie! You'll do great!' from family members. Whenever people say that to you, just smile and nod and continue on being nervous. Why? Because you're supposed to! It is okay to be nervous. I was scared shitless when i had to take mine. But there is a thin line separating being nervous from having a nervous breakdown. Keep yourself physically calm, but do not force yourself to kill those butterflies in your stomach or force your legs to stop shaking. Enjoy the momentary buzz of being nervous. It's half the fun. :)

DO NOT. Be a douchebag and say this following phrases to your friends:

'Oh why are you worrying? You'll surely get straight A's! You're smart!'

'You're worried? What about me? I'm the one who should be worrying about the results! Not you! I'm not smart like YOU!'

'Oh come on, you'll surely be the top-scorer!'

No matter how smart your friends are, do not belittle their nervousness or their worries by saying that they will surely do great. I know your intentions are good but this will only do more harm than good. You can talk all you want about the results AFTER getting it.

DO NOT, if you are a senior, tell your juniors who are getting the results that SPM results are not important. Here's why: They are important.

It may not determine how well you do in university - yes that is true. But it is important! Do not belittle your juniors efforts of trying their damnest in the exam. You remember when it was your time getting the results? At that moment, getting good results WAS important for you. It's the one thing you wanna do good more than anything in the world. Just because it won't be important later, does not mean it was never important in the first place.

Omg how many times did i use the word 'important'?

DO cry. If you have to. If you want to. Cry if you're happy or if you're sad. Just cry.After getting the results, a huge surge of emotion will tackle you like a sumo-wrestler and even the toughest of us cry. There's nothing shameful about it.

DO take your time in cooling down. For those who got a result that you are disappointed with, you should take time in cooling down. I know a lot of people will be asking 'Hey what's your result?' and you may not necessarily want to tell them. You can either say gently that you don't wanna tell them or just smile and tell them anyway (but only if they're your friends. If they're some random busybody douchebags then by all means punch them in the face. I'm kidding. Haha. No im not.)

DO thank the teachers. Please, it's the least you could do. Be it your results are as good as you expected or aren't. Be nice, courteous and do smile when you thank your teachers. They have done so much to you. And while MOST teachers will ask you how is your result, do not be offended. They ask because they care (some by reflex) and teachers are people who love you no matter how well you did in the exams. Trust me.

DO remember that there is no such thing as a BAD result. Your parents may think there is, your douchebag friends may think there is - but no. With whatever results you've got, remember there are always ways for you to make it in the next level.

DO NOT take a whole lot of time thinking how you should've/could've done better in your exam. Sure, you probably didn't have to play video games a week before the exam, you shouldn't had drunk coffee and pull an all-nighter a day before - but what's done is done. Don't dwell on it for too long. You have to keep moving.

DO celebrate. But don't do it like it's the end of the world. Remember that your journey has not ended and there are more challenges to come. But do have fun. You deserve it.

DO NOT get thick-headed. For those who did exceptionally well, do not be arrogant and think that you don't have to try as hard the next time any exam comes. Keep the momentum going. Just because you did great in SPM, doesn't mean you'll do well in University. I learned that the hard way. And be reminded that SPM results are based on the graph of results. Meaning the average will somewhat get a C so it depends on the total result of the entire nation. Don't get to cocky if you get an A. It doesn't necessarily mean that you're smart, it just means you're above average.

DO, however, congratulate yourself for getting an A. I say don't get too cocky, doesn't mean you should start thinking that you don't deserve it. You deserve it. You got it for a reason. Pat yourself at the back.

The thing is that I wish I had someone telling me this when I was getting my results. But I had to learn it the hard way. It's okay to think that your SPM results is the most important thing RIGHT NOW. But keep in mind that ultimately, it is just a stepping stone to something far greater in your future.

All the best, beautiful people.

He Pulled The Trigger. But You Loaded The Gun : Teen Suicide.

2012-02-29T02:04:00.001+08:00

"Suicide is an emo thing."

"Only quitters quit."

"They're just too weak, too childish... too spoilt. Come on, we all had it bad, we all were bullied at one point in our lives. Those bunch of crybabies killed themselves - there's nothing to it. I have no nonsense or whatnot, that it is anyone else's fault..."

"I thought it was just a phase... "

"We should have seen it coming..."

"To me, nobody is the victim here. Both society and the person who committed the suicide are at fault. But the biggest fault is done by that person himself/herself."

"They're just a bunch of drama queens"

'Why on earth would I want to put the blame on myself for something I did not do? If those kids killed themselves, why should I be put on the witness stand? Why should I be questioned for the things I did not do? Why should I be questioned for the things i should have done to prevent it? Why should I answer for the mistake sof others?"

Here's why:

You were jealous of her. So you spread around rumors on the net. You convinced your friends to stay away from her, you said that she's a whore. You made up stories and told them to the whole school. You convinced herself that she would make the world a better place if she kill herself.

Yes, she cut herself and bleed to death... but you sharpen the knife.

Here's why:

He failed one of his exams. You said he's a disappointment. You said that now he has ruined everything. You said he should quit playing around, he should stop seeing his friends. You said that until his grade is nothing less than an A+, he won't get to go out. You said that you would disown him if he fail to get into medical school.

Yes, he swallowed those pills... but you presribed them.

Here's why:

She was raped and abused. You said she deserved it. You said she wasn't covering up herself so she 'presented' herself to those men. You said the child she's carrying will live forever in sin. You forced her to abort.

Yes, she hanged herself... but you tied the rope.

Here's why:

Because when that girl were feeling insecure for not being skinny, you called her fat right in her face. You said she would never be pretty unless she's skinny. You told her straight out that she needed liposuction. That when she walks, the ground would shake.

Yes, she jumped off the building... but you pushed her.

Here's why:

Because that guy was confused. He liked other men. You called him gay, faggot, queer, homo. You pushed him around and you said he'll go to hell. You tried to change him because you say God won't love him until he does.

Yes he pulled the trigger, but you loaded the gun.

Ladies and gentlemen, to the untrained eyes, there is no way to set apart people who have suicidal tendencies and those who do not. Some people put up a brave face but inside they're crumbling to pieces.

No, they are not weak. Just because you may be stronger does not make them any weaker. Just because you would do something different in the same situation, that does not make them stupid for doing something else. Just because you survived the same thing that they had gone through, does not make their suicide and less sad.

You don't want to think that you might be responsible for someone's death. I understand. You want to think that you had lead a blameless life and you have never, ever bullied someone, or said something bad to other people - so naturally, you feel like you cannot be blamed for these suicides.

But you know what you did do? You ignore. You ignore the signs, the symptoms, the clues... you ignored the issue, you ignored by saying teen suicide is nothing but someone else's problem. Someone else will fix it.

These people who committed suicide, wanted to live. But we made the world unlivable for them.

We judge. We point fingers. We forgot.

We fight. We argue.

We sleep, thinking we did the right thing.

Meanwhile another kid dies in his own hands.

Ladies and gentlemen, they killed themselves. But we watched.

SuperMan

2011-11-19T12:57:00.002+08:00

"If can choose what superpower i can have, it would be to have the ability to know the right things to say to anyone, anytime. If my words can be uplifting, then i wouldn't need to fly. If my words can make you fight harder, then i wouldn't need to be stronger. If my words can make you smile, then i wouldn't need anything else. :) " - Ahmad Bukhari, 2nd September 2011.

Has this ever happened to you, when people you really care about tell you their problems and they started crying and you just stand there (or sit whatever) and you're like don't know what to do?

You rack your brain trying to arrange all the right words to say to make a perfect sentence to solve their problems. And you hate yourself for failing to do just that.

You see, when people tell you their problems, they don't really expect you to be a miracle worker and solve them. Their problems are no mere problems with obvious answers and solutions, with easy decisions and clear options.

They just want you to listen.

Be their confidant.

But even knowing that won't make that guilt of not knowing what to say, go away.

It's okay. Having that guilt means you care enough about them to not let them face the problem alone. So stand beside them, pat their back and say 'Hey, wanna know what my superpowers would be?'

Hope i can do this right :) Fingers crossed

2011-10-08T00:59:00.000+08:00

Probably the first ~~post~~ step is the hardest eh?

I cant think of what to write. Hmm... this is harder that I'd imagined it to be.

There's actually something i wanna write about, but given this is only my first post, i wanna keep the drama for the second, eh? ;)

Today i had a discussion with my friend about parallel universes (random much?) and she said there's a theory that somewhere out there, there's a parallel you.

And for example, if parallel me (Let's call him Bob for convenience) knows how to play the violin, then if I (not Bob) decided to start playing a violin, i would find it much easier because somehow, non-scientifically, i kinda know how to play it.

Interesting eh?

I don't know about you guys, but the idea of having another parallel me is disturbing.

There just can't be two awesomest dude in the universe. That's just impossible. It defeats the law of Physics. Or at least the Law of Awesome. *Making a mental note to write the Law of Awesome*

So I'm praying Bob would be less awesome. But awesome nonetheless in his way, in his own galaxy. He at least deserves that.

I am done crapping for the night.

Until later, toodles doo

So You Think You Can Blog?

Whatsapp

I Deserve You

How To Break a Person's Heart

Scars and Bruises

Bukhari Explains: What Panic Attack Feels Like

Bukhari Explains: Why We Fall In Love

I Am Sorry

Bukhari Explains: Growing Apart

Bukhari Explains: Why We Don't Always Wanna Talk About It

How Do I Know?

Who Broke You?

Of Blogging and Erectile Dysfunction

I Forgive You, I Forgive Me

Of Sertraline and Serenity

Love and Attachments

I Do.

Of Quiche and Quitting

Friends VS Boyfriends

Monster

Little Miss Naughty

Of Being Just Friends

The Do's and Dont's in Taking SPM results.

He Pulled The Trigger. But You Loaded The Gun : Teen Suicide.

SuperMan

Hope i can do this right :) *Fingers crossed*

Hope i can do this right :) Fingers crossed