Trauma: The Coping Mechanism

The time I am writing this is already past 3AM in the morning.  I am just done with the first round of analysis over some creative work by a particular trauma victim.  His writing was exceptionally good – therapeutic for him in a sense – that set me in deep wonderment.  Though it did not eventually unclasp the locks to his initial dread, it helped him approach death with a much more positive perspective.  Surreal as it sounded, probably to more “normal”people like you and me, it was a hopeless situation he was dealing with.  One that had only one end, and a horrific one too.

Where the sweet mouth could not move, and the beautiful lips refused to speak, but the Chambers of Life keeps pounding, and pounding, and pounding, beating loud and clear to dear life, attempting to suppress the drowning emotions away, but at the very same time wanting to cry out.  Or wail, even.  Oh, who would hear? More importantly, who would help?  Often the searing pain of even re-enacting the ordeal in the silent, yet tragic mind results in the victim pulling a mask over his face, only to hide the scars that so embolden him.  Time over time the mask grows so thick it necessitates a trustworthy companion to walk carefully down the dwindling stairs of terror right into the dungeon, allowing for the past to surface, little by little.

In the case of unjust death, all the victim could possibly do is sit and wait for the minutes to tick by, slowly, dreadfully, wasting and rotting away into disintegration.  It is quite an unfortunate thing to realize, but sometimes the laws and politics interfere with the people, and that becomes an absolutely dangerous thing.  The truth is that all of us are looking for a purpose in life; some have found it, while others are still searching for it.  What is you were looking for your own treasure box of purpose, when out of the blue, someone comes up to you and tells you that you are going to die tomorrow?  How would you feel?  Or worse still, what if the ground cracks and opens up, consuming all that was once rightfully yours in less than an hour?

With the blink of an eye, one’s locus of control is shattered into a thousand pieces; every sound, every moment is scrutinized in the senses.  Everything seems to get out of hand right at the point of time.  Social connections are lost, food is gone, the gory scenes of dead people are everywhere – even the air pukes of death.  Images of the self in the same state of destruction, with blood streaming from his wounded torso, form in the mind.

But we keep going, do we not?  And that is the beauty of it.

Red Scarlet

PS.:  It is about time we get serious.

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Best of Both Worlds

Should have, could have, might have – but did not.  I must smack myself in the face.  The daydreaming I have plunged myself into with all the diving through the deepest depths… it is still going to continue.

This is the 21st century we are now experiencing at the forefront of conciousness.  Yet I choose to submerge a bit further through the id and out the superego as I search through the shelves of my memory for those materials I need to put to good use, specifically.

At times it takes me to a particular point in my life when I do know absolutely what I want to write about, but the hand churns up something else.  Which is quite astounding, because till now, I had expected the hand to obey the mind.

But now I shall shut my hand with orders of persecution and open my mind instead.  My love for drama shall be a little more pronounced in all my studies and research.  It is a personal attempt to bridge a conjuction between the subject of the Sciences and the Arts.  That combined with the philosophies if the ancient Grecian fathers and the rich culture of the past… ooh la la; I could have almost orgasm.

     But of course I do not.

Have you tried mixing vodka with a little berry juice?  Or, perhaps, whisky?  It is approximately similar, only that you put your drunken thoughts to print for all to read and ponder and laugh about.

The Masai warriors are stomping their sharply-carved spears onto the ground, their loincloths waving slightly in the hot, airy climate.  Let the leprachauns dance along the rhythm with pretty little green shemrocks under their cute little feet.

Gah!  Add a bit of rum; switch on the music.  Come dance with me.

Red Scarlet

Laughter

Maybe I am a little insane.  This I confess.

I just got back to my burrow after a good jog at the nearby track.  It was slightly longer than usual; and here I am referring to the distance covered.

I increased the number of sit-ups and push-ups too.  As I headed out to the nearest 24-hour store, I started feeling a recurring pain in the cardiac muscle.  Oh no, I thought.  Not again.

The first incident came about more than a year ago.  It lasted for just a few minutes – but it hurt enough to claim storage in my mind’s capacity.  Enough to teach me plenty of values.  Of life.  Of the self.  Of the people around me – especially those I care for.

I drink at times, but I have never placed a lit cigarette in my mouth.  I am quite proud of the fact that, each time I hit the community pool, I complete ten full laps back and forth.  Non-stop.

What I have absorbed in my mind has taught me so much about life’s worth.  I have, as of date, already discovered the cause, and in the process revealed the conclusions altogether.  It is not that I wish to vye for fame.  I have simply accepted the dry facts.  Now I just intend to… prolong my lifespan a little bit, perhaps?

My quickest, and also easiest solution, of course, is laughing.  Laughter, after all, is the simplest and most unconventional method of healing.  Among all other forms available, laughing is such a natural remedy, especially for the pain in the heart.  I laugh at anything and everything, so much so friends and colleagues gave me a cute pet-name (that I shall not reveal!).

Yet I see this as a positive activity.  An array of happiness oxytoxins jetspray themselves into the bloodstream from the glands, every time that occurs.  They squirt out and rush off to the cheeks, giving them a soft, rosy glow.  It catalyzes the heartbeat by just a wink, and here even a wink helps.

There is, I presume, of no use, because the Chambers of Life beat so diligently… but no one hears.  And so, I churn out my music on the paper.

Laugh for all of heaven's sake. (Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Laugh for all of heaven’s sake. (Photo Credits to                            Alicia Ai Leng)

Spill it out.  It is now very close to 3AM, and I have a class at 8.30AM later.  Let’s just laugh.

Red Scarlet

Fly With Me

I may not be exactly so much – no, not in adequate proportions – but yet I consider myself an extremely artistic person.  I like to imagine my little notebook as my guitar where I play my notes on.

Call me crazy… maybe.

There is nothing wrong in that.

What goes on in my mind you do not know.  And say what you wish, I do not mind even.  I do not even know what matters are playing in your head.  Really.  Our perceptions are not all similar.

Uh-huh.

I assume I must have gotten so drunk over my music, for it depicts the buried treasures of feelings beneath the sweetly adorned grave, however deep down they may be from the surface, washed off in the rain and thunderstorm and covered by the dampened, soiled earth.  Events that go by do not oftentimes (I do not know why, but I dread this word – oh, yeah, that is out of topic so I shall bring it up later) make sense.

Nonetheless, there exists a factor in the human nature… a component known as resilience, that makes us stand so far apart from one another.  The factor that puts us up on our two feet constantly, always chasing our dreams, big and little.  That sets us running forward, never to be pulled back, climbing ountains so high and diving into seas so deep.  That seemingly brings us so close to our pinnacle  by only an inch, only to have it snatched away by another Dream-Chaser.  Which we drown ourselves into, only to watch it melt slowly away in all the heated commotion.

But we just go on our journey in a more lighted path.  We can’t stop.  Because we won’t stop.

I am like… yes!

Come.  Fly with me.

Confidence is one big part that keeps us going.

Confidence is one big part of us that keeps us going.  (The Author when her hair was still untreated.  Photo credits to photographer Ekamil Razali.)

Red Scarlet

As Time Flies

Welcome 2015.

As the minute hand turns, seconds become minutes, minutes into hours, and hours change to days, days into weeks, months, years, and eventually decades – O, how much longer before the story ends?

Emotions lay covered, as if shaken by water; yet in the quick moment of silence, I retract back whatever plans I have constructed in the past, however recent they are.  A thorough view out the window, and I decided that certain tactical plans must be trashed to the bin, for the lack of time.  It is my final year after all.

Truth is, there is only so much time in one’s life to care about every single thing.  It is to my conscience that I admit that much time has been unfortunately been put to waste due to lack of deep comprehension of particular matters.

It is nearing, although not absolutely so, the end of one adventurous chapter.  It is so close to, “And here comes the tricky part.”  What I speculate… adventurous hikes, deep plunges, and high dives into the unknown.  Aye, there is a plethora of excitement I sense in the air.  So much of it as I plan on a goal-directed year.  I do not and cannot permit anything else to perturb my aura, my plans laying themselves toward a particular road.

On with 2015, moving towards drama and music and therapy of the psyche… what am I waiting for?  It is going to be a year of growth, a time of beautiful memories, and yes, merriment. It is also going to be a year of love, forgiveness, patience, assertiveness, perseverance,and ultimately, success.

I choose to be… determined.  Bald du sehen!

Red Scarlet

Red Story

Red Story


  Me and my American bum decided to take a sit in the cosy – and also icy, no doubt – McDonald’s restaurant at a corner in the shopping mall.  There were other places, but this is our favorite so far .

To be frank, my toes were already on the brink of turning stone hard in the frosty temperature even before I actually sat down.  I just brought my scarf along; why did I absent-mindedly leave my woolen jumper alone in my burrow? Today’s tale is going to be about my hair.  Yup.  It is going to be about that and only that.

The beloved part of me saw me grow through a beautiful three years .  It went through the hardships I faced… and bore the brunt of my experiences.  It suffered the hands of psychopaths, the edge of depression, the angst of a scarred heart; yet the beautiful mind let it grow, let it grow, and let it grow. This beautiful part of me emerged into a soft, lengthy tress of autumn brown that curled at the ends.

As months slipped away and turned into history, it seeped in my hardships, my pains, and little heartbreaks and joys. Anyhow, my mind decided that this Autumn enough is enough.  And so decided to give her a complete makeover.  Not just slice it into half.

Remember, it is a complete makeover.  Top it up with a splash of wine red.

     And so begins a new life. =)

Red Scarlet

It begins today.

It begins today.

Red Lace Underwear

Red Lace Underwear.  )Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Red Lace Underwear.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Do you know how much penchant I hold for objects of such worth?  Undeniable.  It is so beautiful, silky, and comfortable.  In addition, it has this sort of sepulchre silence that hangs over itself I cannot live without.  I am just about to begin a life-long romance with these things.

It was approximately six months past my 22nd birthday – I had done my own laundry , and so was bringing the clothes out to dry in  the sun, as usual.

I hung everything up on the line neatly and made sure there was some space in between the pieces to let the air seep through the tiny seams.  I drapped my red lace – the very first one I had – at one good end of the line.

That done, I went upstairs to prepare for a long day at work.  It was a fine day, diddle here, daddle there, and to cut the long story short, I was back past midnight.

Ahh.

Imagine my dismay when I realized that something was missing from the bunch of clothes I had hung earlier.  My red lace underwear!  Oh, come on, world.  Seriously.  It was gone and nowhere to be found.

Two months have gone by with the wind, and I have been searching north, south, east, and west for the same purchase.  I have found a blue lace, and a black one, and also other colors too, but I could not find it!  It was always a different color, or else the color was not good.

Well, today I decided to make a bold step and visit the mall in front of my burrow.  There are a few lingerie boutiques there, which I attempted to go to the day before – but the bus arrived very late and so the shops were close by the time I actually arrived.  But guess what?

I found it!!! Bought it, even!!!  Woo hoo.  Ich sein exstatische heute.

Red Scarlet