I have made it to daylight. 

My husband has gone out to meet a friend, and there's silence in the house, like peace. I love him, but he does watch videos on his desktop in rather loud sounds, deafening at times.

It's the way I am whisked into a different parallel when I have a good book, a cuppa coffee on hand, and the natural rays of daylight shining into our tiny abode. It is the white noise of traffic just beneath the balcony, the cooing of birds, the rustling of people going about their days. It is the quiet in my soul. 

Days like these always brings me back to my younger self all wrapped up in Matilda, highlighting words that I do not understand –– I had many –– but I think I became a bookworm even earlier on in my years. I always loved reading books. Growing up, we never had much money, and I remember how I would ask my mom to buy me more books to read than assessments. Maybe that's why I was never much good at math. I love words, they speak to my soul like nobody else's. The world in itself is chaotic and loud.

I like it when people write in a way that addresses souls. Most people write with big words that nobody could understand, those never left any impression on me.  

 24th Feb, Sunday. 9:53pm 

I came to learn about a term called 'Complicated Grief', it's the grief you come to possess after losing a loved one and it can go on for years. It's not quite depression, and I was glad to learn that. But if it continues to deteriorate, I would be officially depressed. 

I don't quite know what relapses are, emotionally and mentally. 

But I think I have been too actively blocking out traumatic memories and repressing the traumatic moments I witnessed before my father passed on. It's like one moment I'm fine but the next moment these memories hit me, I am frozen. It's a terrible thing to have to go through and know that not for a moment you could be genuinely happy. Unless you repressed the trauma and the guilt, it usually works well - not thinking about what happened because I am too busy. It doesn't go too well when my period is coming and my hormones are all over the place. 

I am hoping the overseas trip would do me well because now I have a mega distraction. I will think about therapy afterwards. 

2 Jan, 2024 03:06pm 

Today marks a year since my father passed. 

I thought I would be engulfed with grief, but instead I feel kind of empty and dead inside. 

There is sadness, and a grasping at memories to not forget, and there's hollowness. 

Over the past year, I watched my mom lose herself and how sadness wrapped around her 

She has been so lonely, and I have been trying my best to be there 

But I also watched her gain her freedom, her joys, her finally being able to live more for herself 

I do not know what is better for her, or for us 

But I do know we have to accept and move on with life 

Truth is, I don't think I will ever be okay visiting my father's grave 

It feels too young, too early, too wrong 

I remember him finally deciding to fight for his life 

and yet how little by little, he whittled away 

and how I do not know if it is better for him, or for us 

It hurts a lot still 

And I know I should seek therapy 

I wonder how it's like on the other side 

And where my father would be 

I hope it is heaven, heaven would be nice 

Dear God, be with my father, and be with my family 

Love and protect us, guard us from pain.