1st May - Cry

I have never seen crying as something good to do until yesterday. I have a total different view on this after a hiking with the youths, after the prayer meeting last night.

I don't remember I ever have the need to cry. The one last time I cried was back in 2015/2016 when I first watched ""The Passion of Christ" for the first time after avoiding watching it for years. I cried as I felt I wasn't there to help Jesus (a foolish thought, of course; my spontaneous humane response towards His misery) and I cried because He was despised and left alone.

Minus the death of my closed ones, I don't cry, I just don't, no matter how heavy and pain I feel inside of me. Not even the night sis Lai Mun cried the night we prayed sang for her in the hospital. Watching her cried and followed by another two sisters who came with me, I buried all my feelings so deep inside. The most I would do share my sorrow through words with those few I trust. Even Kent cries sometimes, watching movies and listening to songs. He will turn his head at me and expect me to do the same, which I normally end up either laughing at him or ignoring him.

I visit others and pray for them. They would cry sometimes. I feel for them deep inside, but I just couldn't have my tears stream down. To one point, I think I am just cold-blooded. My mom sometimes calls me that way, as she is a woman who cries, almost in all occasions. I envy her sometimes and suspected I may just be her adopted child. Despite all this, I like myself for not crying thou. And I don't feel the need to cry or to be taken care of. I refuse every possible help and care from others. I feel I don't need any of this, I am a good practicer of self-sufficiency.

Being brought-up in a family, where I spent most of my childhood watching TV and witnessing my parents argued and quaralled. I grew up telling myself I can't trouble anyone but to take good care of myself on my own. I was just naive, not sad, I think?! But, somehow it has a tremendous effect in my entire life later on. And many years later in my life, then only I realised how much God has loved me so greatly that He found me when I was 5 years old. He knew I was lonely, someting I couldn't understand at the age of 5.

I met a lot of wonderful people in life, who are good to me, but somehow some just changed and left one day. I believe people left because they have no better reasons to stay. So I told myself it is alright. It was alright all this while until my best of friend, someone who has religiously-inspired me, probably the only one whom understands my writing and promised will have my back til the end of time, one day just told me she could no longer understand me anymore as she feels the joy God filled her with. I guess, I scattered into pieces, but it's just so quiet and hidden that I couldn't hear my own voice. We were friends for almost 20 years... we trust each other with our brokeness, and she just walked away and I was left alone lost in the desert. I don't remember if I ever asked why to God, I only remember the feeling of sinking deep in hollow and the thought of she is healed from her depression is a blessing in my misery. Yet I gave thank to God and for a long time I believe that she is the blessed one who is healed eventually. I never had such a bad self-pity but this time.

I noticed a sudden outpouring of sorrow and grief the day I told Peggy, I don't have a best friend anymore. I am good to others and have great number of close friends but never so close... the feeling of every friend is just the same now saddens me. Still, no crying. Keep telling myself that God allows this, because He wants me to be emotionally stronger. Living my life so normal until I was once again dignosed with symptoms of relapse early of Feb. The thought of cutting my wrist struck during praise and workship of one of the Sunday Services at SCMC in March rang an alarm. What a struggle and confusion to go through. The only person I wish to see was Pastor Sim, but not with the intention of sharing anything. Kent has been a good friend and spouse all these years, but to burden him is the last thing I would do. Sometimes, I think I married a best friend whom I feel I want him to be in my life forever but not to trouble him. I even told him if one day, I am too much for him to bear, let's just end everything. I am perfectly alright to live alone. I always believe if I have not met Kent, I would stay single.

I believe God is good, He is with me in the storms that no one notices. Except from cutting off all swimming, no more cooking and jogging, starting to turn down dates, I am good in controlling myself still. I pray more and better compared to the past, in which I couldn't even feel a thing, not even His presence. I think that is a sort of improvement after all. I managed to get up and go out from the house and serve. With my broken soul I asked God to heal, I went and prayed for Lai Mun and others. What an irony. I learnt to experience Him in serving others. A few those I prayed for claimed to be released from their fear and sorrow. Sometimes I question God, when would Him take this on and off relapse from me. There is no one certain answers. He never says anything to me.

But yesterday, for the first time in my life, I wanted to be loved and taken care by others. I admitted my exhaustion of pretending to be strong, as how others always perceive me. I wanted to feel love. By God and by those who don't mind about my brokeness and ugliness at all. God opens up what is sealed deep in me through psalms 86. For all this while, I could only think of to surrender to God and loved by Him, but not others. Last night, it breaks the mould, God says you were badly hurt, but there are others who are capable of loving you and would try to love you because I live in them. Sit and rest next to those who come to you, enjoy the companion. Give your hands to those who wiling to hold you a little longer. I am with you all this while and forever will.

So, I cried, sat next to Rev Wan, one chair away from Kent. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed crying. Continued crying in the car while sharing my real thought to Kent. It heals something in me. The hiking too, I feel alive. When Mic Sew shared how cold the top of the Mount Ledang is yesterday, being an imaginative person, I felt the chill and visualised myself having devotion on top of the mount, only God and me.