Category Archives: Loss

I Need You…

I need you, I’m desperate here, won’t you, help me out, come, to my aid, rescue me???

I need you, uh, that’s, nice, but, I don’t, have any need, for anything (instead of anyone, ‘cuz of the “downgrade”???) like you, and beside, nobody was EVER there for me when I needed someone to help me out, so, why the !@#$ (maxed out???) do I need to, be there for you right now, huh?

not an order like this…查看來源圖片image from online

I need you, but I sure as hell don’t, the only one I’ll ever need, is me, and I got me all right!!!  I need you, why?  ‘Cuz, you’re, supposed to, love me, for rich or for poor, in sickness & in health, ‘til death!  And, you can’t, break that promise you’d made to me!!!  Why not?  ‘Cuz you say so???  That’s NOT REASON enough, not for me!!!

So, this ends in then?  Let’s not have this god DAMN !@#$ING (maxed out???) discussion EVER again.

but more like, this, I suppose…查看來源圖片image from online

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Filed under Abuser/Enabler Interaction Style, Codependence, Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Dependency, Excuses, Loss, Vicious Cycle

The Lies of the Ninth

The memories of trauma, suppressed, because the individual, was way too young, and, something DID happen, maybe, just not the version of the story that this person had told, to her/his, adult counterparts, translated…

There was something that happened when I was younger, that impacted me, something that’s, a part of, my chaotic memories…

At nine, my mother wanted me to test into the GT classes of an all-star elementary school, that’s, farther away from where I used to live, I’d gotten in, and, she’d, transferred me there.

On the first day of school, as I arrived home, I’d told her, that I was, almost, abducted by a bad guy, there was, a woman in a covered up motorcycle helmet that told me she’d brought the lunches for my mother to me.  I’d told my mother: back then, I was playing outside the gates of my school, and the woman asked me to go with her, I’d felt that something wasn’t quite right, because mom wouldn’t do that, and I’d, run scared, back to the school.  But, I wasn’t, acquainted with my new school yet, it took me, a long time, to finally, get back into my class.

As I’d told, I’d, started crying scared.  My mother was shocked, the very next day, she’d, called up the school, as well as the Department of Education to, we’d, almost gotten the case on the press; within a week’s time I was, transferred, back to my former school again.

But actually, this, was a story I’d, made up.

illustration from UDN.com圖/豆寶

There were, two primary motives of me lying: to find a justifiable reason for me heading into school ate, and find a way to go back to my former school, that’s not based off of “I don’t want to go to my new school”.

Two years ago, with my deep-rooted guilt, I’d, told my parents this truth, admitted that I was, lying to them from back when in the family therapist’s office, and I’d, made up the stories, from an illustrated book my parents bought for me, “I Have a Way”, and, the details of what the woman whom I’d told had, tried to take me away, came from the illustration of a person in a helmet, trying, to take a child away in the pages.

Because my story was, fully-thought out, without any flaws, to the point, that my parents, as well as the staff members of the school all thought it was, true, for almost, twenty years.

Do children who read, really behave themselves?  The knowledge I’d gained from reading, taught me how to commit a crime.

And yet, up to recently, I’d felt, chaotic of this memory.

There was a part of me that felt, that might there have been, something that’s, happened to me, even though it may not have been, the version of the stories I’d told?  How else, would I come up with, the specific details, including what the woman sounded like, what she was dressed in, what her scooter looked like…………

The me at nine years old, I’d, watched the scenes, played on in my mind, as I’d, “retold” my mother what had, happened (and if I remembered correctly, the highest scoring section of my G.T. exams was in the “thinking skills in space and images”).  And, I’d, started crying like there was, no tomorrow, to the point I was, trembling hard, if I were lying, then, how come I had, such physiological response?  Could it be, that I’d, fooled myself into believing?  Or, had there actually, been something that’s, too awful, too shocked, for the me at age nine to accept?  So I’d, forgotten, and, altered this memory of mine, to make it, fictitious?

Several years ago, I’d gone to a hypnosis therapy session, to deal with the problem of ‘feeling a ton of pain, but I can’t cry”.  This was, completely opposite to the me at nine, who’d, “made up a story, that’s, false, and cried like it actually, happened.”

And yet, at the physical classes, I’d shown, the “reflexive response outbursts” in crying, as the coach helped me to relax my diaphragm, I’d, started, wailing hard, it was, a sort of cry, from the depth of my body.

The coach told me, that the diaphragm is a place where, “unresolved emotions are, stored”, so, there may be, some sort of, very deep trauma from long ago, that’s still, not yet, entered, into my consciousness, stayed still inside of my body.

I’d instinctively felt, that in the lies I’d told when I was nine, there might have been something, that’s made me stuck, as a twenty-nine year-old, grown up right now.

So, something definitely happened to you, because of the physiological response of your body, and this sort of a response only comes, when the body had, experienced, something that’, extremely, traumatic, so, maybe something HAD, happened to you at age nine, just not as you’d, remembered it, being almost abducted by a stranger, maybe, it was, something else, that’s, more serious, because the body, it, NEVER lies, and it’s, up to this individual, to dig even deeper, if s/he can, to find out exactly, what had, happened to her/him in his childhood years, and resolve what happened to her/him, piece, by piece.  And, until this person resolved everything, s/he will, always, have that thing that’s, blocking her/his path, from reaching her/his, full potential.

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Filed under Awareness, Being Exposed, Betrayals, Getting Exposed Too Young, Growing Up Too Fast, Innocence Lost, Life, Loss, Mental Health Issues, Perspectives, Story-Telling, Suppressed Memories

Meeting My Daughter Who Ran Away, a Poem

On accepting death, finally, translated…

She is My Daughter

But She, Ran Away

Perhaps, it’s the Wind, the Night Skies

The Stars, the Clouds, the Sunsets Tempting Her on

The River Flowed, the Grasses Grew

I Don’t Know How to, Call Her Back

She was My Daughter of the Past

Born, into the Night, Forgotten, by Sunrise

She was, Never, Returned to My Side

Only Left a Letter, at that High Tower of the Ancient Times

Under the Mulberry Tree, with One Solitary Leaf Fallen Beneath it

Before, the Hooves of, a Fatigued, Steed

Maybe Time had, Never, Left

But, I’d Not Seen Her at Chang-An, Nor Taipei

The Galaxies on the Posters, in the, Nighttime Skies

My Dreams, Premeditated, an Everlasting Dance

My Daughter Who’d, Left, Did She, Venture from the Life Before, to the Next Life Already

What is She Doing Now

As the Rain Falls, the Pond Pretending to be Asleep

That White-Feathered Bird with Its Wings, Damp, Flew Across the Skies

Those Pieces of Driftwood Stood, on the Distant Mountains

Walking Down the, Unknown Paths, Did She, Hear My Calls Out to Her

From Afar

And so, this, is on death, the narrator had lost his child, and, perhaps, she’d died, just a few days after birth, but, no matter how brief the time the man had with her, he’d, already, loved her very much, and, this poem, is his process of, letting her go.

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Filed under Cost of Living, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Loss, On Death & Dying, Parenting/Parenthood, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

Passing Through, on a Bamboo Raft, a Poem

On burying one’s own, offspring, translated…

A Bamboo Raft, Like a Red Lotus Passed Through

Vanished, into the Fog

“Affinities of Children, Thin Like the Foams on the Waterfront”

So True These Words

Watching the Sunset Light Withering in the West

Time Has No Place Here

Memories Can’t Hide

The Awareness, Electric Shocked

Who isn’t, Like that Small Raft

Drifting in-Between Life & Death

Listening to the Heaviness of the Repentance of Love & Lust

With the Broken Bridges, Severed Off Streams, the Dying Smokes

And so, this, is finally, coming to one’s senses about the finality of life, because you’d lost the ones you loved when they were too young, and you are, still living, you’d, needed to, cope with losing the ones you cared for, loved, your, own young…

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Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Despair, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Loss, On Death & Dying, Story-Telling, the Finality of Life, Translated Work, Values

Dreams, that Fell, into the CRACKS of Reality…

There were, those, dreams, that fell, into the CRACKS of reality, that were, never seen, or heard of, ever again!  Where did they go?  Is there, a blackhole, that SUCKED the life out of all things that used to be alive, from this realm, to the next?

Dreams, that fell, into the CRACKS of reality, they got lost, in the tramples of the day to day, don’t you remember, a long, long, long, long, long time ago, back, when you were, way too innocent, to KNOW, that you can’t, live on dreams alone, what, did you want to be, when you “grow up”?  Now that you’re, all grown up, did you ever, got the chance, to pursue becoming whatever it was, that you wanted, to become as a kid?

this, is where those dreams will be found…photo from online…查看來源圖片

Dreams, that fell, into the CRACKS of reality, I’d, made that unmarked grave (you know, those mounds you see in those, vacant places around???) as their, final resting places, and, I’m sure, that NOBODY will, EVER come look for them again, so, I’d, still, gone to that burial site of all those dreams that fell, into the CRACKS of reality, to see them, to talk them, to hear them, tell of their, tales, of how someone (their “owners”???) used to love them, and cherish them so very much, until the person, grows up………

Dreams that, fell, into the CRACKS of reality, they will, continue, to fall into those cracks, and get buried alive, until one day, you look back, and realize, where those dreams, were lost in time, and by that time, you go and dig ‘em all back up, they would’ve, suffocated to death, as you’d, buried them alive, back when, you were, a whole lot younger.

Dreams, gone up in flames here…查看來源圖片photo found online…

 

 

 

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Filed under Cost of Living, Despair, Loss, Properties of Life, Reality Clashes with Dreams

Wanting to Grow Old with Children Accompanying

The trials someone faces toward the end of a loved one’s life, translated…

“We’d all wanted to hold our children’s hands, to watch them get older, but unfortunately, fate had other plans………” as Shu-Mei talked, she’d started, sobbing. She’d shared with the patients and the families, her own experiences, “Do we, or don’t we resuscitate?”, that is the final questions, that a lot of the terminally ill patients will face, it’s also, a heart wrenching memory for Shu-Mei, her husband had been gone sixteen years now, and yet, that intense heartache had, stayed.

Her husband was diagnosed with a rare condition when he was forty-six, he’d become bedridden for over a decade, and, couldn’t control anything, he’d already, become so discouraged, to the end, when he was on the respirators, he’d still had difficulties breathing, the doctor said, that only a tracheotomy can save his life, and, her husband wanted to die, and they’d, turned down the doctor’s offers, but, as their daughter came to see him with her five-month-old son, it’d, sparked his will to live again.

The doctor saw how he was hesitant, gave them three weeks to think about it, during which time, Shu-Mei lost a lot of weight, the whole family was living under this, dark cloud. If they’d decided to put him on a respirator, the patient will be living, off of the respirators; if they don’t, then, very shortly thereafter, he would die, he will, NEVER see her husband again. Shu-Mei was confused on what she should do, her husband asked her, “Do you want me to die?” She’d naturally not be willing to let him go, started crying, and became, silent, and respected whatever he’d, decided. It’s just, that during these years counting down toward death, he’d always worn his frowns, and, gotten stuck between life and death, don’t’ know if he’d, regretted it?

“Back then, the medication had yet to pass the coverage of the health insurance plans, it was very expensive, there were the expandable items of phlegm tubes, the diapers, the feeding tubes, the caretaker’s fees………”, Shu-Mei told me, even as her whole family started saving up, it wouldn’t be possible for them, to pay for his care, she’d needed to work days and nights, and his daughter part-time through school, and they’d needed monetary assistance from their families, friends, relatives every now and then too. For the years, the medical bills, she’d, stuffed them all inside a drawer, and after her husband passed, she’d started, sorting through them, and, the amount exceeded five million dollars, she could bought a house with the money saved up. “Although taking him off life support only took a total of fifteen minutes, but there’s, such a high price for it, and, as life continued, and the patient had, suffered, it’d also, put the loved ones under great duress.” Shu-Mei told me, the pain, got in too deep, into her heart, that it’d, slowly, suffocated her.

A woman in the support group, whose husband was ill, started, sobbing after she’d heard, she said that they’re currently, facing this difficult choice, especially that they didn’t have enough money saved up, and she worried that she’s not as strong as Shu-Mei had been. Another woman looked worried, that her husband just had an intubation, at the age of thirty-something, he’d, fallen very ill, her mother-in-law loved this youngest son the most, and couldn’t stand seeing him die, and even if her son can no longer call her mom, even if he’s kept alive by those machines, she was willing, to keep him alive. It’s just, that the wife found, that her husband, when his own mother wasn’t looking, he’d tried, to disconnect himself from life support, seeing how twisted and in pain her husband’s face became, she said, that there isn’t a day she hadn’t cried.

Shu-Mei patted her gently on the shoulders, and cried with her, “We all want to grow old with our children, having each other with, but, fate wouldn’t allow it”. If it’s already set, then, just live with it, everything shall pass eventually. Shu-Mei consoled with the woman in her support group.

This, is a hard issue to deal, to let go, or to keep hanging on, but, when the patient is suffering so much, it’s only the right thing to do, to unplug her/him off life support, but, a part of you just, wasn’t willing, to let someone you love die, and so, you have to, struggle hard over the matter, and, eventually, you will, realize, that letting the person you loved dearly die is the best choice, because, keeping the person alive, means prolonging their sufferings, and, nobody wants to see their loved ones suffer toward the end.

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Filed under Life, Loss, Memories Shared, Moral Responsibilities, Properties of Life, Right to Die, the Finality of Life

When You’re Far Away, My Thoughts Seem Astray

It’s like, you’re, in control of my thoughts, ‘cuz when you’re far away, my thoughts seem astray, they are lost, with no way, to get back home, to me again…

When you’re far away, my thoughts seem astray, my thoughts drifted, to where you are, in the distance, leaving me, with nothing. When you’re far away, my thoughts seem astray, and, no matter how I’d called out to them, they just, won’t come willingly home!

not my picture…

When you’re far away, my thoughts seem astray, and, oh, how I hate, to allow you, to plague my thoughts, and yet, I can’t, exorcise you out of my mind, no matter how hard I’d tried to. When you’re far away, my thoughts seem astray, and, I sit, in this, empty house, waiting, waiting, waiting, for hours on end, for my thoughts, and you, to finally, return again…

When you’re far away, my thoughts seem astray, they’d, flown toward where you are, and, no matter how loudly I’d screamed at them to come back, they won’t, not until, you’d, come home to me…………

When you’re far away, my thoughts seemed astray, and you’re now, very far from where I am, and, so, I’d, let go of my thoughts, figured, that they will, eventually come back to me, after they’d had enough of you, just like you’d always, come back to me again!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Codependence, Dependency, Despair, Enmeshment, Life, Loss, STUCK in a Cookie Jar, The Fate of a Woman, Wake Up Calls