Published in the Washington Post on 05 September and accessed here.

Posted on September 7th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Regionalisation | No Comments »

I think I’ve runned out of friends. I think I’ve cycled through everyone that “matters”. I have been passed on from one to another, like a relay race, unburdening myself while off-loading my misery on them.

Today, I decided it was time to try the doctor instead. I can’t keep dumping my problems on my friends - it wouldn’t be fair. Not to mention the fact that after a while, they’ll get so sick of me, they’ll dump me instead.

So, I went and cried for half an hour at the doctor’s after lunch. Fortunately, she was sympathetic and understood that I needed to talk out my anxieties and worries. She kept prodding me so that I would let it out until I regained composure. Then she prescribed me two-weeks dosage of Sertraline (50 mg) - it’s an anti-depressant.

Yes, I’ve surrendered. I’ve finally given up trying to help myself naturally. I’m now aiming for chemical happiness. I’ve got 14 little blue happy pills that I will take one a night and then go back for 14 more. Hopefully, at the end of one month, when the rain has receded, I will find my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. All will be well. And I will find paradise. Sertraline Paradise.

Posted on September 6th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Notable: Personal | 5 Comments »

This Reuters report was published on page 33 of the Star on 05 September 2004 and accessed here.

Posted on September 6th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Regionalisation | No Comments »

This AP report was published on page 33 of The Star on Sunday, 05 September 2004 and accessed here.

Posted on September 6th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: ASEAN | No Comments »

I haven’t been blogging because I don’t know what to blog anymore. In fact, I don’t know what to say anymore, or what to feel or what to think. I’ve said all there is to say, I’ve felt all there is to feel and I’ve just about exhausted all possible permutations of arguments in my head. At the end of it all - what is left?

I no longer have control of the situation and there really are no more choices I can make that could even be remotely construed as a “good” one. All avenues that are now available to me are “bad”. It’s just a matter of choosing the lesser of all evils.

I was surprised how easy it was, when I put my mind to it, to move out of eight years of my life. That is until I stopped and actually thought about what it was that I was doing. And then it all comes back. Overwhelmingly.

I survived the move by just about the skin of my neck. I still can’t quite believe that I’ve moved out of my home - yes, despite it all, it still is my home by whatever definition you choose to give that word. I still can’t quite believe that it has come to this and the only thing that keeps me going is my foolish, and perhaps irrational, hope. Hope that someday soon, this nightmare will be over, and we’ll be back together again.

Meanwhile, I suffer from major swings of emotions and moods. And so do the friends on whom I unload. There are hours when I can hold it in and just about function as a “normal” human being. And there are hours when I would be on the verge of tears. But most of all, there are long periods when I would just cry, and cry, and cry… My shoulders would ache. My heart would feel empty. And my stomach feels like one big tight knot. Those are the times when everything looks bleak and I repeatedly ask why? why? why?

I know that there’s not necessarily a point to everything, nor should there always be a reason for anything. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I feel caught in a limbo and paralysed from moving on because I am unable to reach closure.

But I still harbour hope.
I still like to think that one day, we’ll be back together again.
Because I still believe in “us”. And I still believe that there is a strong basis for “us”.

And that, is what keeps me going for now.

Posted on September 5th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Notable: Personal | 4 Comments »