Losing her means losing everything

    Losing my mother means losing everything in my life because she was the only parent I had. It means everything I do, I relate to her, I think of her, I just can't have anything done without thinking about those what-if-she-is-still-here-and-things-wouldnt-be-the-same-anymore.

    Not to lie to anyone including myself, I did really care about my 21st birthday, maybe I still do. Nah, not about what I got from friends or what, but about receiving a gift from my mother. She passed away in 2014 and of course I couldn't receive any 21st-birthday-gift from her last year. And yes, to be frank, it's heart-wrenching whenever I see everyone's receiving gifts from his or her mother. I'm envious of them, really envious. I still remember how I passed my 21st birthday, I pretended it wasn't my birthday because it made me sad. At the end of the day, just went to get some meal and movie, then was hoping the time could forward fast enough to the next day. Then at the end of the day, I still pretended to be joyful and posted about it. That was sucked huh? I know. So what if my mother was still here, of course she'd make my 21st like a 21st right? I don't ask for any grand celebration, but the warmth and love that I've longed for. So what if she was still there when I was 21st?

    Apart from this, nowadays after I got my license for the purpose of my internship which is on the way of next year September, I was hoping to get a car soon to allow me to practice for at least half of the year to get skillful enough to drive everywhere. So thought of maybe I could drive to campus in the coming trimester or next year January, but hah shame on me! Still a student, so yea need a guarantor to purchase a car of course. Too bad, guess no one is willing to be my guarantor. Well, surely I can understand, stuffs which involve money even though you don't need any single penny from them, who would be willingly to offer you to be your guarantor. They're afraid of those what-ifs too. Like what if Liz can't pay for the installment, then as a guarantor I have to pay for her then? What if Liz can't get a job in future then surely I'd be so dead being her guarantor right? What if and what if...And what if mommy was still here, of course she'll never have a doubt on my capability and be my guarantor, And I'll never have to be so depressed regarding this matter. What if mommy was still here everything will be easier right?

    A lot of stuffs happen throughout these 2++ years. No I don't feel I'm loved, not from the ones I call them family. We can feel everything as long as we're alive. Yea, and I do as well. That's why I said I do not feel loved. Honestly, no sincere love is felt so far from them. Friends are the pillars throughout all this while. But sometimes I feel I'm left out too (I do not know I was really left out for few times or I was too depressed at those times and I overthought and misunderstood them). Without mommy, I lose the ability to feel loved the to love. I don't know what love feels like anymore. What if mommy was still here? I wouldn't have to go through a lot of heartbreakings, by changing my definition of family, love and kindness constantly. I wouldn't have to mask myself to be so short-tempered just to avoid anyone can see through me and notice I'm actually severely broken deep down inside. Same question, what if she was still here today?

    It's been so long that I'm not able to sit down and talk to someone who is as dear as mother. I miss chatting randomly with my mommy, about everything, from crushing on cute guys to future plans. And I can never have this chance, ever again. After everything, I have to mask myself and be that happy-go-lucky-Liz. Grief is meant to be experienced alone, because if it is shared then everyone around is just gonna stay aloof from you because you're emotional one.

    Let me inquire once again, what if she was still here today? What if you woke up and realized everything was just a bad dream? What if they just joked to you about her death in last last few years? What if she came back tomorrow? What if she's really up there looking at you, blogging about your sorrow? What if I died of the heartache because it makes me hard to catch my own breath everytime it strikes? What if ...

Black is the new sexy?Or new way to grieve?

    Lately I've been mostly in black, either shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, and so on. Black is the new sexy eh? Hmm NO NO. I wear it for few reasons perhaps. Allow me to enlighten you.

    First and foremost, in case you do not know, my mother passed away since 2014. Since then I've been grieving, over and over again. Grieving is a non-stop process, you just can't get rid of it, you can't amend the broken pieces on your heart even the four chambers are still on their own positions. Yet they are broken into millions or perhaps billions pieces within themselves without being able to be noticed even using X-ray. At some point, you just can't feel your heartbeats. Sometimes, you try to sit alone silently, listening attentively to the beating of heart, but it's empty there. It's like you're a dead person in a live body. So I can't help myself from continuing to grieve. I wear black or dark colors to tell the people around (maybe no one knows) that I'm living with grief. Yes, I tried to be happy, tried to put myself with other colors such as red, white, yellow and so on but they all don't suit me. Putting them on myself makes me feel like I'm disgusting, why I wear bright color to grieve over someone who's the dearest to me. I feel so disgusting that I hate myself. Unless the situation leaves me no choice, else I'm always with the black or dark colors covering me.

   Second, it's because black represents the state I'm in. So you may be curious what state I'm in? Well, relating back to my loss, I'm in grief and so it leads to depressed. Yea, you read it right I'm in depression. Since my mommy passed away, I feel depressed because the only true love in this world has left me behind all alone in this big big world. No I do not have a father, I'm from a single parent family. So in just a night, I turned to an orphan. Go on telling me 'you have aunts to take care of you', 'you have a super duper good grandma to love you', and so on. But let me tell me, the feelings or the love you get from them are fucking different from what you feel from your mother. They love me, but I just want a mother's love. I'm so depressed that everytime when others mention about their mothers, it reminds me that I'm an orphan. Mother's day is the scariest for me, whenever I hear about it, it reminds me that I lost my mother in 2014 and that's the fact that I can't do anything to change. So for me black color best represents my life. I just love it.

    Next, for me black color is a strong armor that secures me well under its shade. I feel strong and witchy in black. I feel so powerful although I'm so broken inside. Black covers me with its magnificent armor, securing me from breaking down so easily in front of human beings. So wearing black helps me to face family, friends and crowds.

   These are the main three reasons why I love wearing black so much. I thought of blogging it out because I was thrown with a statement by grandma this morning, 'you like to wear black so much,aren't you?'. Obviously it's a statement that needs no answer.

   Afterall, black is one of the ways I use to grieve.

Tattoo,in memory of my late mother

   It's been ages I'm not on here, not that I did not have anything to update; of course I do but too busy for that. So here's a little update on my tattoo that I've gotten myself months ago.

   Getting the tattoo, because I want to remember mommy in this way. Because she's worth all the pain-in-ass I got myself, she's far more worth the pain. Not to deny, I'd constantly find some stuffs to do which can bring me the pain physically, this is one of the ways I do to temporarily stop the mental pain I'm going through everyday. Not that healthy, but this is how I can help to ease myself. A friend told me he's acknowledged that when someone in pain, he or she tends to find something which can hurt him or her physically, just so he or she can feel better. It's a true statement, guess he read from psychology article or something like that. Afterall, quote from John Green 'pain demands to be felt'.

   So I did a lot of research on the Internet, and planned to have my first-ever-tattoo-in-this-21-years at Dragonfly Tattoo, because I saw a lot of good comments from the customers and their tattoo artists all look friendly, by that I mean easy to be approached type haha. I know it's of no good to judge people from their looks, but friendly looks make me comfortable. So I made an appointment with one of the female artists. Then planned to go after my study tour for my course purpose and to meet my lovely panni because she studies at KL.

   On 21st March, I took the train all the way from my university, which is at Kampar to KL sentral. Then had my breakfast there, to increase my glucose level so I would not faint during the tattoo later. LOL! At 11a.m., I reached Midvalley then went to the uppest level which the studio is located.

   Greeted by a guy, asking some questions only I realized the artist I made appointment with actually does not work here, she already transferred to 1Utama. Leaving no choice, I had to cancel the appointment with her, I'm so sorry, I truly am. Because I don't have any free time to go to KL again since my schedule for the trimester was actually very full. I felt so embarrassed and wicked, because I made an appointment but then had to cancel with her. Gosh I honestly felt like slapping myself that time. So asked the guy artist if he could take the appointment over and he said yea. 

   I showed him the design I wanted, with the three alphabets of my mom's name on top of it. He used around 15 mins to print it out and made some improvements (I guess? LOL). Then I was led to the room, I was given a towel to wrap myself because the place I want to be tattooed was 5cm below the collarbone. I still could not really picture the idea of letting a male artist to tattoo me at this intimate part (at least for me it is). But no choice, after that I just did as what I was told. After that we both realized actually no towel was needed, just I had to lower down both the straps (romper strap and bra strap of course). So he started the process. The skin was cleaned with the alcohol, then the paper he printed earlier which was the design I wanted, was pressed on the skin for few mins. Then it was pulled out, and I saw a bluish outlined design. He asked me to check if the position and the size were as I requested. Then everything was ok, we went on for tattoo.

   When I lied down, I started to feel a little nervous, asking him if it was painful. HAHA! I guess everyone who's gotten tattooed before would ask right? Then he replied 'hmm not that painful but it's impossible if you expect no pain at all.' Very much agreed to what he said. He's really a friendly man, nice to talk to as well. And he gave me their WiFi password, so I did not have to use my own data. How kind of him! Then I was busy to whatsapp with my friends, or maybe I was pretending to be busy haha. Then I was really busy telling them about the process of tattooing, about my crush (if not mistaken, LOL) so that all those chatters could distract me. He switched on the radio beforehand, and I still remember the first song which came up was '以后别做朋友', which is an emotional song. I tried not to be affected. Then the second song overtook, which was '小幸运'. I was like whyyyyyyy? whyyy all emotional songs? Hahahaha! He let me checked all the tools and needles he was going to use, to ensure they've not been used before.

   Ok, here it went, the first needle penetrated through my epidermis, then my dermis. I was like OMG OMG OMG so painful. LOL! Ok, I'm exaggerating it. To be honest, it was quite painful. You can refer here to see the pain level of each part of body where you want to get your tattoo on. Then he asked me if it was painful, I think I replied not that bad, obviously trying to act stronger than any men I've met. Then he went on, we were chatting at the same time too. But the conversation did not go long, maybe because I was awkward. Ok or maybe he did not want to talk to me haha.

   It took me one and a half hour for the whole process if I remembered correctly. Then it was done. 'Yeayyyy, it shall be on my body till I become ashes', I thought to myself. He put on a piece of hmm, I don't know what it's called, a piece of transparent paper on it. Then I was advised to remove the paper after 2 hours. Then I made the payment and thanked him and then met up with my friend.

   We went for lunch and then movie, with her boyfie. Met after so long, but never felt a singly awkwardness. That's what proved the real friendship or sisterhood we share. She's really my best bestfriend. Well, I plan to remove the paper after movie but obviously it had fallen before that. Maybe just after half an hour of walking out the studio, it already fell. I'm kind of clumsy girl, so yea nothing much to expect from me haha. 

   Then around 6pm I went back to KL Sentral, waiting to take the train back to Kampar. Of course my lovely panni and her bf accompanied all the way to KL Sentral, waited me till the train reached. Having to meet her after so long is definitely one of the best thing ever.

   If you asked me how painful it was, the answer is 'It is nothing as compared to the pain of losing my mother'. The pain was nothing at all. Frankly, I felt so good after the tattoo, because the physical pain eased me from the mental pain, even it's just temporarily. 

Ok here's the photo of my tattoo. Oh yeay, forgot to tell you guys the artist which I went to named Marcus,if anyone wants to get tattoo, you may find him. He's really friendly and professional, I've seen his artworks before. 

Floral with my mom's name

   So it looks pretty right? Thanks to Marcus.

   Well yea I got inked but don't judge. People who get inked usually have their reasons, like for my case it's because I want to and I choose to remember my mom this way. I want to undergo the pain again using this way. 

That's all for now, bye xoxo

The heartache that not everyone understands at the age of 19

   It was this heartache, that not everyone would experience it at the age of 19.

   Being a 19 year old girl (or supposed a young lady I should say), whom has been brought up by a single parent, my mommy was all the support that I'd ever had through this 19 years of life. She was the one who taught me how to walk, the one who held my hands when I marched out my very first step of life, the one who taught me how to speak, the one who taught me how to eat and drink ethically, the one who taught me to read and write, the one who paid all my school fees from kindergarten till now, the one who spent her money on my everything, the one who taught me what the moral values are, the one who taught me how to be a well-mannered young lady and so on and so forth.

   There it's gone, everything's gone. That was the night which I lost her, completely. It was on 24th Feb,2014, at 11.30pm. That night, I thought I'd die of heartaching too, at least I hoped to. Losing someone who is so important,significant to you, would you still be able to breathe? For me, no. That moment, I was dead, totally lost in the big universe, which didn't seem familiar anymore. I lost the one and only family I had in the earth. How the hell you expected me to be all good or strong. I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't feel it even when I was crying.

   During the funeral, so many people came dropping by, staying. Some came for 3 days continuously, some came when the time matched their schedules. I was again lost in the white, or the black, all I could see was everyone was in black or white. No one was in cheerful bright color. I was being brought down by the colors,again. I was lost in my own crying. I wasn't know what I was supposed to do except for crying. People came, I explained the situation, repeatedly, the heartbeats skipped everytime I tried explaining to people. One asked, explained; second came, explained; third came,explained; that cycle went on and on for 3 days continuously. They didn't get me, they didn't know me well, they didn't care about my feeling perhaps; that was why they couldn't just shut their mouths and kept asking. Those were all what I thought that time.

   They came, they consoled, they said 'be strong', they hugged you and etc., but those were not what I needed. All I needed was a quiet, peaceful moment to just sit myself down beside the coffin, to look at my mommy, to grieve over my lost. All I wanted was grieving. But then all the people came, showed you their kindness which you from the ethics perspective, shouldn't turn them down. I wanted to cry my lungs out, to cry till I fainted, till I was exhausted, but all I could do that time was being strong, explaining to everyone what had happened to mom, and greeting people who came for the prayer.

   I was numb,emotionless. I couldn't feel myself breathing, or even I could not breathe properly. There was an ache in my heart, that was so painful and awful. It was like a knife, sticking through the heart, the four chambers were parted, it was so painful that I thought I was almost to die too after my mom. Unfortunately, or should I say fortunately, I made myself alive, till now, being able to be here to explain my pain through words.

   No one's ever told me how to handle this grief. I, however did it all by my own, as I'm the only child, and I only had a family member which was my beloved mommy. That was the thought I made during mom's funeral, that I would never admit or search for my biological father who's in another state. He means nothing to me, so to my mom, as well as to my future family or the guy whom I'm going to marry to. He means nothing throughout my life, and never will he be, because he did not take the responsibility as what a father should have or a husband should have. Whoever hurts my mom will be nothing in my life, because I love my mom so much that I honestly, couldn't accept anyone who's hurt her into my life, regardless of who you are.

   The extended families did not help much too except aunt was busy settling down all the documents of mommy. Then the others seem like they do not actually care. Of course they did grieved, but not as long as me. And I do understand, because my mom is my mom, she played the other roles to other siblings or relatives. Or maybe I am the one who just can't get over the grief. Grieving alone, because I'm strong and independent enough to do so. Or maybe some of them care, but I cannot feel it. I don't know. Some are even worse, trying to play some dramas in between. I appreciate that,peeps. At least you made me see who's the real and who's the fake. I, somehow, grieve alone, and yess until now I don't really stop grieving yet. I do not care about anyone, anymore when I'm back to hometown. I just take them as people in my life, not like they're meaningless to me, but not like they mean something to me too. I get to know not everyone cares about your lost, afterall it's YOURS, not theirs. Yea, this is the world. But they do not need to grieve for your lost for long time, it's not their duty over the lost, it's not their responsibilities to care about you.

   The heartache is still there, the parting of heart chambers can still be felt, the difficulty to breathe still happens, the fear of losing meaningful people around you still hunts you, the night you cry yourself to sleep still is needed and so on. But what I could do? I'm still grieving over my lost, but I'm marching on as a strong lady too. I'm blessed enough to meet good friends, besties, BFFs, they're part of my world, they mean so much to me. Not to forget, my grams. Though I behave very bad towards her due to my bad temper, but I do love her and appreciate everything she does for me. I do appreciate all the tears that she's shed for my lost. I do care about her. And I hope she's always blessed with good health and happiness, I hope she's part of my life, involving in my graduation in 3 years time, my marriage in future and so on. I do hope she participates in my life, Afterall she's the only one I have now.

   I count my days by moments, neither by minutes nor hours. I jot down every moment that means for me, or at least memorable or the moments that should be remembered. So that when I grow older, I have some memories to rewind, or some people (even though passers-by in life) to recall. I enjoy every moment that is well spent with friends, or any people. At least I enjoy it using heart, I feel it with my heart.

It's been 298th day, mommy, I know you're on the heaven, watching over me. It's a great loss to us in the earth, but a great earn for heaven to gain an angel like you ♥ Watch me over heaven, and wish the best for me, I'll be a good one to make you proud.