Passionate Growth

(Was going through the many many drafts which I'd written and saved, found one which I think deserved to be published after a year.)

I hate pain, I hate pain with a PASSION. No, not physical pain, but emotional and mental pain that wreak havoc onto your entire being, throws you completely off-course and creates an emotionless zombie.

Pain reminds me of how incompetent I am, how utterly useless I am, how much of a wimp I am.

Pain leaves me wallowing in self-agony and a deep longing to crawl under a desk and curl up, never wanting to face the horrible, dreadful world again.

Pain makes me feel like a spiky durian that will intentionally hurt people who come too close to me.

And yet, after each painful experience I go through, I find myself growing. And the greater the pain, the more exponential the growth.

I don't recall victorious moments all that clearly. Yes, I've definitely experienced happy moments in life, far more than unhappy moments.

But. It's the tears and sorrow that have moulded me into the person I am today.

As a very young child with Selective Mutism (unbelievable, eh?), I remember how I hated, detested myself for not daring to speak up in public.

As a 7-year-old who was forced to grasp the meaning of death when my eldest brother lay dying in the hospital bed, and I was brought to  his bedside to bid my final goodbye. 19 years later, I still remember the helplessness and anguish I experienced as my tiny body shook with fear, pain and tears that night. No one around me could offer comfort, we were all dealing with the pain in our own ways.

As a 17-year-old, who made the difficult decision to give up a scholarship to the UK, despite protests from everyone, and return home, to take care of a father who had been diagnosed with 4th stage cancer. To prepare for STPM while your dad lay dying in the hospital bed, to have tear-stains on your books because doctors had given him weeks to live, right in the middle of Finals. To stop writing in the middle of a 3-hour exam because you had a fleeting, frightful thought of your dad dying at that very moment.

As a 23-year-old, who made the decision to walk out of a 4-year mentally abusive relationship, a relationship that had destroyed my spirit and self-esteem.

And more.

And after each painful experience, I went through what I would call, "Passionate Growth".

Passionate growth stems from pain. 

And not just any pain, but devastating pain that makes you feel like the most wretched creature on earth, something that the ground would swallow and vomit out again in vile disgust, spittle and all.

But after the most painful moment has passed, when you can finally look back at the horror you had just lived through, you begin to savour life again, to experience it in its full vitality again.

Little pleasures you'd never noticed before bring greater delight, and you begin to go through life with far more excitement and amazement than ever before.

Aye, pain is the catalyst to an amazing life.

A Lil' Report

"I'm signing off now, see you at home! :)"

A Yahoo! Messenger IM that never failed to send me scampering in excitement to announce to everyone at home that Dad was leaving office and ON THE WAY HOME! It used to amazed mom, how I would know so precisely when Dad was leaving office. Simply because I spent many an afternoon chatting with him, and he in turn entertaining my never-ending chatter about how my day went, who did what, what happened at home etc etc.

"My lil' reporter," he'd affectionately call me.

Hey, lil' Jo knew her number 1 duty as a daughter was to keep her dad abreast of all current happenings, ok?

"I can't sleep now. I've forgotten everything!" I told Dad in a complete state of panic when he opened my room door the night before my SPM History paper.

"You'll remember it all tomorrow. Don't worry. Just sleep now," he calmly said, switching off the lights.

And dang, was he right.

Ever the overprotective Dad, he struggled to see his lil' one leave the nest, repeatedly asking me to reconsider my decision to take up a scholarship that would first send me to study in Jitra, Kedah before moving on to the UK for a degree.

"Take the other scholarship, the foundation is in Taylor's..." But I knew what I wanted, and I went ahead to spread my wings, painful as it was to leave the home that I knew at 17.

"Dad's been diagnosed with colon cancer..."

"What stage?" I fearfully asked.

"Stage? It's stageless... it's everywhere..."

In a heartbeat, I made the decision to return home. I vaguely recall exclamations of disbelief and lectures on stupidity. 

"Why are you giving up your entire future for your father?"

"Don't be stupid."

"It's YOUR future, not your father's."

You'd be surprised how heartless people can be, even when you're clearly undergoing a state of emotional turmoil.

"My DAD gave me MY future," a biting response I discovered to be pretty effective in halting wagging tongues.

******

Dear Dad,

It's been 6 years since you've left us for a happier, pain-free world. So much has happened over these years, so much growing up I had to do, so many milestones I achieved as a young adult, even as I found myself struggling to find my footing in this world.

It has been pretty amazing years, Dad. I truly wish you could have walked with me along the way... But sometimes a girl has to do her own growing up, and I sure hope I've done an okay job without you.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.

Forever your lil' reporter,
Char boh

The Year I Ran From Me, Right Into Me

A peek out of the window.

A squint into the future, a glance into the past.

A trainfull of memories, chugging its way past, archiving memories and experiences along the way.

25 stations later, I look back at the archive of experiences and memories which have been painstakingly collected, some brutally forced into the archive (despite my kicking screams and protesting tears), and some eagerly and joyously created along the exciting journey of Life.

It has been a remarkable 24 years to date. I'm still in slight disbelief that I have begun this journey into adulthood. It's odd, when you enter this stage of life and you connect with people who have had the privilege of 20, 30 years of adulthood experience over you. You feel like a baby all over again, and you realise how little you know. Funny, when I was a teenager I thought I had the whole world figured out.

At the same time, you realise just HOW MUCH there is to know. How vast the galaxy of knowledge is, and how one has barely even mastered an atom of knowledge in comparison.

I spent the 24th year of my life undergoing tremendous change. Revamping my value and belief system, reconstructing who I am, taking a dangerous plunge into the unknown and resurfacing with startling discoveries, albeit desperately gasping for air. But definitely resurfacing with a far more open mind, and a much deeper love for myself and consequently, others.

Change has oftentimes been hard, painful even, for me. At some point last year, I stopped thinking, I stopped writing. Hibernated from life, threw myself into work. It was a period of existing, not living. A time of surviving, not thriving.

I have to say, it was a pretty good break. Something we all need to do, every once in a while. (Although 1 year is a mite too long, I think.) Akin to how the physical body enters a comatose state to induce healing, it was something my psychological self desperately needed.

Towards the end of 2015, I awakened from my stupor, and I found back my zeal and determination for life, to taste all that it has to offer, and to continue running this journey at a relentless pace.

As I step off onto the 25th station of Life, I look back fondly at all the memories and experiences that have moulded me into who I am. Joy, Pain, Victories, Failures, Sorrow, Love, Tears, Peace, Frustration. The Joanne today is the embodiment of a myriad of experiences, and I cannot see how I would change anything in my past. Every foolish decision I have ever made has inched me one step closer towards wisdom; every painful challenge I have ever undergone has given me an extra ounce of strength and courage.

Today, I turn quarter of a century old. I'm still a babe in the big, wild jungle of Life, but ready or not, here I come! ;-)