Runs on food and music, will sing for chips and pasta.

Thursday, August 11, 2022

On body talk, depression, and healing

This is a post about pains, suffering, depression, healing and self-growth.  Today feels like the day I document the summary of my journey in healing and therapy – through body talk. 

I had a session with my body talk practitioner today  - today’s session ended so very differently, for the first time in two years since I started seeing Silvia in late 2020.  She concluded that I have grown so much, mentally, through the roughest and toughest of times since she started seeing me.  Today’s session felt like a little ‘graduation’ in mental health university. 


 

“Without suffering and pains, there is no growth.”  

 

All my life, up to just about two years ago, the person I have known myself to be, and to many friends, I was one who is sure of things, sunny-dispositioned, super extroverted, happy, driven, jovial, full of life, go-getter, clear-headed, positive, strong…etc – even after Justin’s passing, I saw myself as someone who rises above problems and a fighter.  

 

The first time I was told that there could be something ‘off’ about my shiny exterior was during an acupuncture session, by my TCM then, Dr Fang.   “I don’t know you that well yet, but something about you that I am reading, is that…you are lacking spark in your life.  Your exterior is a very tall, well-constructed wall that seems to h
ole up what you are truly feeling inside.”  I was taken aback, confused and upset at the observation by doctor, deep inside I sensed she was right about me but I had no explanation and understanding of it yet.  I am glad I trusted her insights about me even though I had no clue what it was.

 

Time passes, I went on with my life, ups and downs and going all around.  I had no further opportunities after that to dig deeper into discovering more of my problems.

 

Then March 2020 came. 

 

Like so many out there, the lockdown and pandemic forced me into a corner in 2020, to face the demons…of life, of my minds, of all the self-destructive shits that reside in me that I had no idea of their existence.   I spent most part of year 2020 covered in daily breakouts of hives (every morning and every evening), stomach bloating, and chronic inflammation of my lips – some of the ‘luckier’ ones of you have seen me in those uncomfortable moments.  Anxiety, depression, frustration and grief set off all of that. 

Sure, it was too easy to blame on the happenings around me in the year – the list of triggers is not long but they are surely all too common.  Aging parents, uncertainties of work, finance, questions of self-worth, anxiety over confrontations that I could not made, loneliness, missing Justin, etc etc.   Stuck, and clueless on how to un-stuck myself.  I did the allergy tests, cleaned my home of possible triggers that gave me the hives, rashes and inflammation…nothing changed.  

“This is not a case of allergy la, it’s your life problems.  You have to start fixing your life problems…or else this inflammation will surely come back.”  That was one of the most sobering, strangely satisfying advice I hear since the lock down in 2020.  It was the morning after I got rushed to Pantai hospital for an emergency case of lip and throat swelling, at a close friend’s house dinner.   A room full of friends watched in horror as my lips swelled to the size of….I don’t know…I subsequently lost my voice in just minutes.   A steroid jab at the hospital later, my voice came back slowly and I was told to delay my working trip the next day to Ipoh.  The next morning I took an allergy test at my friend’s clinic, and went to meet a group of friends at their breakfast.  Dr Lawrence my friend told me that he thinks it was not a case of food allergy, or any allergy.   “It’s psychosomatic.”  He told me to start fixing my life’s problems.  “Don’t cancel your Ipoh trip, go and work, do the things you enjoy, live.  There is no point staying at home doing nothing, waiting for the problem to go away.”

I had the best work trip that weekend.  My PA and I drove slowly to Ipoh and we talked through the shit I had to face and start fixing – at work, then.   My voice recovered well on the trip, we had an amazing time with our show that weekend.  My mind was all stimulated and excited about the change I was going to make in my life – to face my problems and fix them.  

 

A week after that trip I made my first appointment to give body talk a try.  I had no real or clear idea what Body Talk was when I made the appointment to meet with Silvia, a practitioner.  A close friend of mine has talked about her own journey with body talk a few years ago.  I decided that to start fixing whatever was haunting and hurting me, I would try something different and a little unknown to me. 

 

The first session blew my mind…in fact, every session with Silvia has been like that.  I will not go into gory details of what went on in all of my sessions in Body Talk.  This is just a very personal sharing and rough documentation of what happened to me after I started body talk.  I have been sharing with friends about my journey and feel strongly about having more people trying it.

 

It is alternative healing – generally speaking.  But after I looked closer and experienced it myself, this is more self-healing to me.  Body talk taps into communicating with our innate self, innate wisdom and consciousness, to repair and heal our body and mind.  The level of self-awareness and consciousness the experience brought to me,  works towards doing a better job than my overactive and overbearing intellectual consciousness. 

 

Ten years ago I would never imagined myself to be one who talks and walks alternative healing, self-healing.   I was all western medicine, well-documented evidence of results, and taking drugs to be better.  

 

A rough ‘tour’ or map of my body talk journey since Sep 2020 till now.  I have had six sessions in those twenty-four months.   Over the course of these sessions with Silvia, it has been one wild, eye-opening, soul-searching, heart-wrenchingly sobering and cathartic roller-coaster ride into betterment, of my mental health and physical health.  I had three sessions in 2020, between September and November.  One session in year 2021, September.  Two sessions so far in 2022.   At the beginning, I was sent home with a complete new insight of what I needed to look back and move on – from my own family past trauma.  Something of such magnitude impact that took place in my childhood that I never came to realise – have had a massive hold in who I came to be, and why I behave the way I am with my family all these years.  To say that the first session at body talk was simply mind-blowing is not an over-statement, probably an under-statement.   

 

I swiftly went in to see Silvia again in weeks, again, went home with a mind full of more new awareness, of realisation of what was eating me alive all these times.   Basically it was like opening many cans of cannibalizing worms and insects that have lived inside my stomach and now having to pick them out one by one, with my bare hands.  

Yes, you can only imagine how painful and uncomfortable the process has been.  Like what they say about good medicine, there is good in the bitterness of the medicine.  Silvia has always told me that I will not necessarily feel better or happier after each session.  She is right.   I mostly went home with a lot of realisation about how things came to be in my life, how I came to be the person I am, and what I need to work on myself – changing mindsets, picking up healthier mental habits, exercising better behaviours.  To make all of that happen, there were many many lonely and excruciatingly painful self-reflection, and acceptance and facing up all things that are ugly, needy, need-to-change,  childish, foolish within myself, and of the life I am in.  

 

The first session I had early this year was to help me navigate through the thick of depression I was swimming in, having absorbed much of what life has bestowed upon me – it is what it is: my parents’ health is deteriorating, fatigue from juggling too much on my plate and not knowing how to let go of the intensity I was feeling all the time.  At the same time, I had to learn to come to term with the new person I had become, one who is a lot more vulnerable (had always been but was lying to myself about it and not know it was a lie), quieter, lower energy, sombre, quite the opposite of who I thought I was all my life.  I was scared shitless of the change; did not recognize the person I was, panicky and all that.  

 

Silvia held my hand and told me it was all OK.  “Whoever this new person that you are growing to be now, what is there not to love?  It is still YOU.  Ask yourself what are your fears of becoming this new person, what will you lose?  Is it really a loss?”   We talked about this ‘becoming’ at length and addressed all my fears.  I walked out of there that day, feeling braver and excited about what I was going to find in the new Janet. 

Months have passed, I am still tired with all  the chaos that is my life.  So much sadness in life that I cannot change, that I am learning to accept better.  Today I spent a long time just updating her about the past five months of all the whirlwind happenings with my family and my work.   Then we began the session and I focused on breathing.  

 

“Letting go.”  “…of your limitations.”  came up as the main message of today.  Nevertheless, she can see that I have grown so much through the past two years of struggles and new learnings.  “There is nothing like watching someone come through here, struggling, learning, trying, and keep trying and growing from all of that.” 

 

So much I have gained in knowing myself better, it has all been an overhaul of my mind and soul, and my heart.  I am not all cured and fixed up from my life’s problems and depression (you don’t cure depression, you learn to cope better with life), and I am still at the beginning of my journey of letting go – but I feel way calmer in the chaos of my life now.  I am much better in opening up to myself and knowing what being honest to one self is.  I am more patient with myself and others (always a work-in-progress).  I allow myself to cut some slack sometimes.  I feel humbled by all my problems, I am grateful for them too.  

 

I am a firm believer now, that only through difficulties and pains, we truly grow.  “What don’t kill you makes your stronger.”

Read up on body talk, and give it a go.   Or actually, to start making a change, talk to someone – open up about what is eating you up…or tell the universe that you are lost and you want some support and help.

 

If you are still here, wow, champion you.  Thank you for reading.

 

#janetwrites

#bodytalk

#selfhealing

#healing

#mentalhealth

#wellbeing

#health

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Wednesday, July 20, 2022

The Undoing of an Obsession

The undoing of an obsession 

I started keeping a sort of diary on my intermittent fasting journey since last October and it got very interrupted by work, parents and everything in between.  But I was very determined to update it, and share what and how I feel about it, and how it has changed me.  I feel and think it as an important story to share.  I woke up at 6am today, rare – feeling refreshed – I knew I had to come to my computer and finish up this journal and sharing on fasting, and post it on my Facebook.  

So here it goes – it is long, personal, but a happy story.  


===============


March 2022


I bet you have met many just like me, a skinny woman complaining about her bloating problems.  Or someone who always look good in photos, then she tells you her secret – she always sucks in her stomach when she poses.

Yup, all me.  Bloating has always been on the radar, on the horizon in my life since, probably after 40 years old.  Like many other things for some of us - it got worse during the lockdown.


My bloating and indigestion got so bad during the first lockdown that I kept a diary of the days when I wasn’t bloated, there were a few days in the year of 2020 when I wasn’t bloated.  The rest of the times when I was performing (a lot) in between lockdown and RMCO, I literally had to starve myself many hours before putting on my slinky show dress so my stomach wouldn’t protrude and destroy my stage confidence - thinking about my offending tummy.


Then, I also started wearing show dresses (or suits) that were less snuggly and could hide a bloating stomach on my skinny frame.  


It was a mess la.  


Things got a little better in 2011 with the bloating but it was still something that was sucking the life out of me.  I knew that stress and emotional entanglement too, affect indigestion and gut health, there was just too much on my plate for me.  

Then during one of my idyllic afternoon hangouts with my BFF See Ming at her sun-filled and high ceiling living room, she suggested intermittent fasting to me, as something to try out to help get rid of my bloating. 


“Huh? I think it’s a very fascinating thing - this fasting thingy but I doubt it’s gonna work for me - if I don’t put food in my stomach in the morning when it’s hungry my wind…bloating, reflux etc might be worse…” 


I replied quickly with lots of excuses and speculation, like most people do…when they know a little and don’t know the whole picture of a topic. 


But I didn’t brush it aside completely, I asked my personal trainer Naim a few days later when I was in class with him, whether intermittent fasting is suitable for a person with bad bloating.  He said yes immediately!  I started again with my doubts and excuses but he said it would be OK for me, and I should try it. 


I started immediately.  On the very same day.  I was nervous about not being able to eat past 8pm everyday but I did it anyway.  


I read up quickly on the net on what the entry level is for intermittent fasting and was going to settle for the common 16-8 format - fast for 16 hours (fast between 8pm - 12noon, or 8pm till 1pm the next day), and have food intake for 8 hours (eat between 12/1pm till 8/9pm). 


It is now five months and two weeks and more into my “Life-After-IF”.  My life, in the physical and physic department - have taken on what feels like, a 180-degree change.


First thing first, my bloating has gone off and down so quickly, I put up a delighted, but “wait-and-see” mentality.  I kept at it, not eating past 8-9pm every night and break my fast with a meal after 1pm the next day. 


It felt like a superpower.  After, literally years of being a bloating-inflicted victim, I feel like I am finally onto something that is real and work for me.  I could not stop talking about it to anyone and everyone.  In the first two months I was like a high-achiever Mormon. 


I made a lot of Instagram stories about my IF journey and wrote bits and pieces.  Here are some of those little diaries:


“Don’t have a weighing machine at home but it’s obvious that my body has changed in only days.” 


Day 11: October 10, 2021

The sight of my body is a little shocking to be honest.  I haven’t seen that shape in…too long.  The Stomach and digestion are very happy.  I enjoy my food when I eat it.  Last night was the first time in 10 days I ate past 8pm.  I had a Bobo KL nasi lemak after my 3rd show there this weekend.  Every mouthful was beautiful, as I sipped my brandy on the rocks.  Will continue to make time to lift weights so I don’t look too scrawny for my photoshoots this month. 


DAY 13: October 12, 2021

Still feeling good about it. Now that shows are over for a week, I’m home doing more desk-work so I do notice and feel hungrier.  Yes, writing and working at my screen is very energy-draining.  I drink lots of water and had an almond powder drink late last night.  While I’m home this week I’ll make sure I get more workout done - weights, toning and cardio.  Wish me luck. 


Day 28: Oct 25, 2021

It’s been all right still so far.  I’m not really super strict everyday with the 16-8 format.  When I have meetings late in the day, etc.  I’d get done with dinner only past 8pm, and that’s fine with me. On most days I still stop eating by 8pm. 

Survived today’s long hours at fashion shoot for Monica Quen without much food (a few bites of hash brown and a piece of nugget + water) intake.  Wasn’t hungry until the last 40mins of the shoot (around 540pm).  Had a lovely and hearty meal after the shoot at around 8pm. 


************


The other truly refreshing, unexpected and the BEST thing that has come off this project, this new lifestyle and mantra is - my fixation and relationship towards food has totally changed, for the better. 


I have never felt like this ever (except when I was very sick and could not eat properly): 


* My addiction and cravings for late night snacks (crisps, chocolates) are gone

* I don’t stress about what to eat and how to eat clean anymore – because with this fasting, I am eating way less 

* I’m spending less time fussing over food, I have free up more time for other things and when I do sit down to eat, I enjoy the food so much more.


The shift of my mindset about eating, and food - has truly surprised and delighted me.  I’m still finding ways to understand this new feeling. I will keep writing and documentation my journey. 


On a few different levels now, I am able to see that in the past, my previous lifestyle (as with most other people around too) has been engineered and shaped to be the anxious kind that seem to revolve around juggling work and keeping up with meal times, and several meals a day.  This observation came only months after I have been on this fasting routine.  The fasting has reduced my anxiety level. 

Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying by fasting alone all my life problems have been sorted out.  There are still many things that stress and worries me in my life, but I have one less problem now.  I have more headspace and energy to focus on other problems to fix.


These days, whether I am working from home or with colleagues on a set or at meetings or rehearsals, I don’t have the mad dash between ordering, or making, and eating, and work.  My mornings are now a more focused and leisurely window for me.  I still have my warm lemon water, just warm water or my glass of immunity-boost drink (OPC-3).   Then I am off to getting ready to leave for rehearsals or I pull out the yoga mat for home workout, or I get on to whatever I need to get done for the day.


Morning hungry pangs? Yes, for sure - I feel it some days (get this, NOT every day) and drinking water helps loads.  And get this, folks, you may be as surprised as me when it first hit me too: hungry pangs hardly last more than a few minutes!  

Trying to work while you are feeling very hungry is uncomfortable, yes, but it really does not take much to stop it, a full glass or a few gulps of water will calm you and your hunger pangs.  I get on with my work or chores, and because I have set my mind to eat only past noon or after 1pm, I am ultra focused and calm, before I realise it -  I am working on full force and don’t even realized when the clock strikes 1pm.  


And the beauty of this is, our bodies adapt and adjust to our new routine better than we imagine.  Just like what my old boxing instructor Khoo used to tell me when I complained about the muscle sores after each class, “If you feel pain, you should do the class more frequently and before you knew it, you won’t have the sores anymore.”  He was right.  


Same thing as when you work out more frequently, you get stronger - you won’t limp around in pain as you do it more.


Which was what happened after a few weeks of intermittent fasting for me - it got easier and easier to do.  


How intermittent fasting made life better for me:

1. bloating gone down for a good 95% 

2. better digestion 

3. better bowel movement 

4. better mood of course, because my stomach looks great 

5. I have more time to do things 

6. I hydrate better because I drink lots of water before my first meal

7. Less anxiety and obsess less over thoughts like “Am I eating well? Am I eating right?” 

8. My body is leaner and toning up is easier than before 


Just recently, the past three weeks or so; I have unintentionally got on to a “one-main-meal-a-day” routine.  It happened naturally.   The first few times when I notice I don’t need two meals in one day, were when I had a busy morning working from home, etc and then an appointment outside. 


Now the notion of food and eating has taken on a new, a more romantic, more grateful, more positive and meaningful presence in my life.  My daily work and schedule are not bound and limited and strapped down by constantly having to take break from work to eat and pacify the stomach (and mind).  


Now each meal time or little eat feels like a true celebration of life and being alive, or of togetherness, when I am eating with others; and a really well-deserved break and interval from work and chores.  


When my hours are not crowded by many mealtimes, the eating becomes more enjoyable and sacred, and beautiful.


To wrap this up, I want to conclude by saying that I feel EVERYONE ought to give this a go, or at least study a little about the benefits of fasting have on our health.  I learned that intermittent fasting is a term coined by the western people in recent times (and made very popular), but the Asians, Indians in particular, have been doing it for the longest time – and they have been healthy for all of that time.  


Here are some video links that I watched and enjoyed on the topic – they are insightful and easy to understand.  


Intermittent Fasting: Handle Your Health Problems The Natural Way - by Sadhguru

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnRQJzK6yvI


Intermittent Fasting: Transformational Technique | Cynthia Thurlow | TEDxGreenville

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6Dkt7zyImk


Benefits of Fasting | Sadhguru

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgvgQgtng0U


I wish you a happy fasting, or, happy trying.  


#janetwrites

#intermittentfasting

#janeteats

#janetcooks

#fasting

#janetfitness

|

Parents Series: July 15, 2022 @ Juxtaposition


Juxtaposition - what life is to me at this moment.  It is juxtaposition, irony and everything bittersweet. 

I’ve returned from my mini whirlwind work ‘tour’ of Penang - Ipoh - KL - Singapore and haven’t seen my parents since last Wednesday.  In my absence, both of them have tested positive with Covid, mom still cannot stand or walk from her fall three weeks ago.  I dropped in this morning to visit them both - to assist with Covid home tests.  Dad was looking healthy and fit despite still testing positive.  Mom is a small, scrawny child sitting in the wheelchair with her arms folding in which she cannot undo without help.  She tested negative.  She mumbles, her gaze weak, she winces in pain when people talk in full voices around her, above her chair, discussing her well being and what to do next.  There are bruises on her elbows.


Eventually I left, taking their test kits with me.  Sister and I huddled over our lunch bowls in SS 2 and discussed looking for palliative care for mom and the eventual looking for funeral services.  My sister told me about her recent church gigs at funeral services and masses.  “Death is such a common affair, but we dramatize it so much, we are so afraid to talk about it and plan for it.” 


When I look at this photo my good friend took of me at a dinner two nights ago, I see a picture of the juxtaposition I am in:  where I am now in life is at the peak of my career, alive, youthful, and always in motion, creating and shaping up new things for people around me; whereas for my mom - she is in the depth, in the abyss of a body failing on her, nearing the peak of her being totally dependent on others to do everything for her.

I cannot look away from this feeling of irony and I guess, in some ways - I want to remember how this feels like - to compensate or justify for the guilt I feel when I’m away from her side - living my fabulous life.  


All of this, heightens everything I feel when I’m on stage, singing and dancing under the bright stage lights.  I have to deliberately turn away my most inner thoughts so I can focus on the elating songs I am performing. 


As I wring myself to dry every week juggling new and old emotions, and tasks of self-care and caregiving to others - I marvel at how I am able to carry on, working and laughing, and being sad almost all the time.

How wonderful this is - the thing we do that is coping.  We are such amazing strong creatures.


Then I took an hour or two of break from work to eat and read Sallie Tisdale’s Advice For Future Corpses.  I realize the act I am in - I am preparing for death.  The act of reading up on dementia, on death and dying - it’s a preparation for death, of my parents, of my own. 


I suddenly thought of Justin’s departure.  One so sudden and out of the blue - and of the one that my sister and I are facing now - parents, one so drawn out, slow and roller-coaster like…, the other one so quick and sharp. 


Is the mourning of one death more painful than the other? Is there a way to even compare ? Why am I even sitting here to compare ? 


Am I trying to justify my pain now with the old one I had when I lost Justin in the bike accident - on that fine sunny Sunday morning ?  With the one now I’m going through with my mom’s struggle in her final (who knows anyway) chapter…? 

I think they are the same - painful and feels eternal.  


But life is fleeting.  


This juxtaposition overwhelms me and calms me all at once.  What I can do now is to do my best.  Be kind, be calm, and always try to rest better.



#janetwrites

#parentingmyparents 

#taipingmali

#parents 

#dementia

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Parents Series: At the home

 November 20, 2021 


 

The thing about being a human being with feelings is that – no matter how much knowledge and facts you study and soak up about the conditions of human, you are still going to feel emotional.  You can only hope that all your learnings about the conditions of life will help you manage your emotions…less messily. 

 

(Life is messy, sticky, and smelly)

 

Coming to the third week now for parents at retirement home.  I have seen them three times so far.  My sister has been several times in between, doctors’ appointments, food drops, among other things.  

 

When I watch mom during my visits, I have to remind myself not to crowd my judgement about how she is doing with my own “pre-packed” emotions.  I would have entered the visiting space with a bag of my own mixed emotions and struggling to not unpack them onto the floor.  

 

Naturally, it would get harder and harder for mom to articulate how she feels.  No matter how many times I recall that truth it will still sting you.  It’s no wonder I am still struggling to finish reading Nicci Gerard’s book [What Dementia Teaches Us About Love].  

 

Sometimes I can get some information from her about how she is doing, inside and outside.  Sometimes I get a shake of head and mumble of “I don’t know, I don’t remember, I don’t know how to explain.”  Sometimes I get a flurry of stories, patchy information about things and people, sometimes I get a few lines of a song.  

 

Over a quick lunch outing yesterday, she sang “Go go go, Ole ole ole!” to my mate Lynn who joined us at lunch.   Her favourite story about babysitting my nephew Julian and the ditty he used to sing to her – a world cup match theme song. 

 

Dad seems contented, so far.  “At least over here, I don’t need to wash dishes, do the laundry, cook rice, sweep the floor.”  And the internet connection at the home is way better than at his old condo.  He does not even need to top up his pre-paid iPad data plan now.  

 

Since the move, I am hardly home myself, wading between appointments and chores.  I have not had to deal much with cooking for myself at home.  Strangely, I am missing the days when I wake up and start planning the menu for the day, for them folks.  These days I can jump out of bed and head straight out to meetings without having to sort out any meals for them folks.   But I find myself wondering how parents are getting on over there in PJ home.  Naturally so, it’s just been two weeks and a few days.  

 

One moment at a time.  One day at a time.  

 

The people at the home is doing a great job.  I am grateful.  

 

#parentingmyparents
#taipingmali
#momandpop

#parents
#family
#demetiapatient
#janetwrites

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Parents series: How to hide a wheelchair at home

January 1, 2022 


New Year’s Day, 745pm.  I have been rearranging furniture at my pad since 2pm.  I am happy and satisfied with what I have managed so far, did not lose any nails or break anything (yet) since I started.  I am now stuck with a task at hand – where do I store my mom’s wheelchair?  I tucked the chair down; it is a foldable wheelchair and I tried to keep it as compact as possible.   Still, it is there, in my dressing studio – or what used to be my guest room, where parents slept when they visited me – when they were younger. 

 

The folded wheelchair faces the wall, next to the antique dressing table that a friend gave me, opposite this odd-looking item is my glamorous, antique cabinet that house almost all my costume jewelry.   The chair does not belong in this room, and yet, it does.  For months it has sat here, since we bought it last September, after mom asked for it incessantly.  It got quite a lot of use between September and November…before mom moved into the nursing home.  

 

When she and dad moved from my building into the nursing home, this chair, and a foldable walking stick stayed behind with me at my pad.  We have returned the rented pad to landlord and cleared out parents’ home; their home of one year and eight months.  

 

I sat on the floor and stared at the silent wheelchair in the corner, facing the wall, as if apologizing to me for taking up space in my home.  Tears rolled.  I am feeling the silence of my home, a space that I love being alone in it.  This is a sanctuary, a shelter, and a space for me to be crazy, be calm, be frantic, be happy, be sad, be myself.  

In the past one year and eight months, I shared this space with my parents for hours every day.  I was no longer “alone” in my home.  I cooked for more than one person during those months, I incorporated caregiving time in my single-life, I learned to find joy in sharing my days and my life with parents – whom for more than two decades, were hardly in my life.

 

The first two weeks of them having moved out – were the weirdest and uncomfortable for me.  I was confused, sad, guilty, and hopeful all of the same time.  I often paused in my track, trying to register what it is like to be alone again.  “What will I eat today?” Now that I don’t need to cook for them anymore… I really miss them, and yet I was glad to be rid of them so I can work all the time and let professionals take care of their needs.

 

Anyway, I let work sweep me up and consume me.  I worked day and night.  In November I was able to visit them once or twice a week, it balances my emotions.  Then I worked all month of December, on the road, performing and selling albums, hustling with my work partners.   

 

But I did not work on the last day of the year. I am so glad to be home. I spent the first part of NYE visiting my parents at their nursing home.  We sat for two hours at the dining area of the home, me and parents.  I watched them, alive, in person, smiling.  The usual sight – dad, buried in his hand phone and iPad and occasionally joining our conversation; mom, basking in our attention and sometimes struggled to get cohesive story out.

 

I saw my sister too; we took a few happy family wefies before she  had to rush off for a work lunch.  I stayed back and was joined by my BFF See Ming who came over, sat there holding my mom’s hand and coaxing stories out of her, and trading stories with mom.

 

It was a perfect day.  See Ming and I left the home eventually, when mom said, “It is shower time now.”   See Ming and I hung out in a quiet mall, ate and chatted, and shopped. 

And shopped I did…although I have seen my December pay cheques yet, I bought myself yet another antique cabinet – this one is to house my growing collection of glassware, whisky bottles, gin, sake and other assortments of happy, hedonistic, decadent things.  I was so thrilled about this new furniture coming in two days, I just have to re-arrange, and adjust everything, to welcome another symbol of my singlehood (spinsterhood?  Haha) – I can buy whatever furniture I want without getting anyone’s opinion. 

 

That aside, so mom’s wheelchair remains in my home, folded and silent, waiting to be unfolded one day and serve anyone who needs its assistance. 

 



#parentingmyparents

#mom

#parents

#dementiaawareness

#dementia

#parentingmyparents

#mom

#parents

#dementiaawareness

#dementia

#janetwrites

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