016. Your cigarette

I am your cigarette
whose smoke clouds your head
You tell everyone I'm good for you
that I keep you warm
You ignore their constant pleas,
of my causing you nothing but harm

To you, I am a perfect fit
in between your fingers
that is where my scent lingers
I felt alive when I was lit
and with every puff
we fell in love
You became addicted to my taste
while I became addicted to your kiss
Indeed, ignorance is bliss!

But you woke up one night
and realised that baby, I'm no good
Suffocation from swirls of white
and burns from specks of ashes
allowed you to see
how toxic this love could be

Slowly you started throwing away the matches
and you began to kiss me less
left unwanted, I was tossed aside
and I watched you confess
that you would allow yourself to slide
my tiny frame around your lips one last time

I was your cigarette
until you stubbed out the last flickering flame
and made sure that I was dead

015. Pain don't hurt.

As I sit here and type this post, I am still searching the internet to find ways to cope with/treat rheumatoid arthritis.

Yes, you read that right. I have rheumatoid arthritis.

When I started having pain in my right wrist, I listed down possible reasons why I had the pain. I thought it happened because I used a bowling ball that was too big for my hand. I also thought that carrying my niece was the cause of my sudden wrist pain. I even suspected the cold air from the office air-conditioner was getting into my bones. 

After reading so much about carpal tunnel syndrome, I began to assume that given the nature of my job,  this was the cause of all my misery. After getting a referral from the doctor, I went to see the orthopaedic surgeon that my family has been seeing. He took one look at my hand and said "your wrist is swollen, we'll do a blood test to see if it is arthritis". Of course, I didn't like the sound of that. I'm not THAT old to be having arthritis like my mother. If I could carry three suitcases from one flat to another and carry five heavy bags of groceries from the supermarket to my flat, I don't see how I could possibly have arthritis.

After two weeks, the test revealed that I showed signs of rheumatoid arthritis. I was calm when he told me. When I asked him if there was a way to lower the reading, he said 'no'. Again, I was calm. The moment I reached the office, I was upset. I went online to read up about this ailment I was having. (please don't ever do this because you will end up reading the worst possible scenarios and think "OH SHIT I AM GOING TO DIE!". The joy of being a hypochondriac). I was distracted because all I wanted to do was cry. At lunchtime, I went down to my favourite spot and cried. I only told three people about it that day. I unleashed my anger on my mother for not calling to check on me because she would always call to find out if I was doing okay. I did apologise to her for my outburst, but she understood that I was upset.

On Wednesday, I went to see the orthopaedic surgeon again. After finding out that the pain was still there and had extended to my forearm, he referred me to a rheumatologist (who is also treating my mother). He asked me a lot of questions and told me to get another blood test done. After that, he told me "Yes, you have mild arthritis. While not curable, it can be prevented from getting worse. It is hereditary, which means that you don't have to worry about being adopted. It's very common in women, and it can also be caused by stress. It can go away and never return. It can go away and return. It can get worse". He told me to destress and sleep early (hahaha) and to go back in three months to see if it has subsided or worsen.

It is overwhelming to take in and understand. I can't ask "why me?" because hey, I got from my mama. It has set me back from doing things such as chores, lifting a box file at work, and carrying my niece. Seeing my parents carry her makes me sad because I want to be able to do the same without feeling pain and/or hurting the little girl. It makes me sad because I can't be of much help to the family when they need help. It makes me sad because I can't lift things without wincing in pain. It makes me very sad that I have to cut down on working out/exercising and intake of certain foods (the latter was instructed by my father because he thinks that eating cold foods at night is going to kill me, when the doctor said that there is no scientific proof that cold foods make it worse. better to be safe than sorry, you know?). I'm also sad because I've also caused people to worry about me (my family, my friends - online and real-life, my colleagues, my boss (who has already yelled at me to go for a full medical checkup as per my entitlement)).

I am going to take things one day at a time. I will learn to destress and relax, and hopefully, this thing will leave and never return. I won't let this pain consume me.

I'm so thankful for all the well-wishes, support and scoldings I received in the last few days. I'm truly blessed with good people in my life.

Remember: pain don't hurt.

014. Love yourself.

I know I'm not overweight, I have an average built. I'm comfortable with it, but when you have friends/family members who are much smaller than you, you become the butt of all jokes (literally). I shrugged it off in the beginning, but sometimes, it gets to you and it hurts.

I had a teacher who would tell me that I was fat at every opportunity she got. She went one better by using my name in an English exam paper. We had to write the opposite word for the underlined word in a sentence...one of the sentences was

Rowena is a thin girl.

It doesn't take rocket science to tell you what she had implied. It didn't matter if I came in first in my class, it didn't matter if I had the highest score for Maths. None of that mattered because all I was to her was that I was fat.

I was 9.


I'm also one of those unfortunate people who gain weight from vacations. I gain at least five kilogrammes every time I come home from a trip. Losing the weight isn't that difficult for me because I tend to lose them all during the fasting month. But again, when you have skinny/smaller-sized friends, standing next to them makes you feel like you're a beached whale.

After my one-month trip to America when I was 16, I gained five kilogrammes and I couldn't fit into any of my clothes. Being at an age where other people's opinions were important, I knew I needed to lose weight. So, what did I do?

I used laxatives.
I fasted a lot.
I skipped meals.
I exercised excessively.

And then I masked it by eating normally. Then, when I felt 'flabby' and guilty, I'd do it all over again. It was a beautiful cycle: eat so much, feel guilt, do shit loads to lose the weight, rinse and repeat.

I kept doing it for eight years without people knowing. It was the only thing I knew I could control, because I couldn't control other parts of my life. One day in 2011, I looked in the mirror and I could see my ribs and said "this is bad". It was the first time that I admitted to myself that I was bulimic, and that I had a problem that needed fixing. I never publicly admitted it, but at least some of you knew about it from my other blog.

I took it one day at a time, because you just don't tell yourself "snap out of it, you're beautiful" and rainbows and fireworks would magically appear. Every day you look at the mirror and tell yourself that, the mirror would reply "hahahaha nope you're not". It's the hardest part to convince yourself all these things when you don't feel like it's the truth. It was a struggle in the beginning.

After a while, I felt better and learnt to accept and love myself for the way I am. Sure, there have been times I would have a relapse, but with supportive friends and a conscience, I would make sure that I don't go back to the old me.

It took me a few years to realise that being skinny wasn't going to make me happy. Being healthy and fit was the way to go. I decided to follow an exercise regime and change my diet, and I've seen the improvements. I'm much happier now.

All I want to say to you reading this is: love yourself. Don't let anyone define your worth, you don't need that toxicity in your life. I learnt my lesson the hard way, and I suffered. I hope you're a lot smarter and wiser than I was back then. You are NOT your weight.

I'll leave you with something Miranda Hart said:

Be kind to yourself.

013. Things I learnt from the World Cup 2014.

With the World Cup 2014 coming to an end, here are some of the things I learnt during this wonderful month.

01. People still use the term 'rape' when the scoreline looks like '1-5', '4-0', or '1-7' as if it were a joke. 

In every football match, the teams go in knowing their opponents and the outcomes could be either a win, draw, or loss.

In rape, there are no such outcomes besides shame, grief, pain, and in some occasions, death. 

The part that sickens me most is that women are also using the word 'rape' to signify a humiliating loss. We cry about how it's always the victim's fault for rape, the way we dress and behave are the 'reasons' for rape. Yet, people use the term so lightly when it comes to sports.

To equate a loss to a rape only does disservice to rape victims and shows how lightly people consider rape to be.

It's 2014, rape should NOT be treated as joke. 

02. Supporting the England NT will only leave you disappointed.

I always tell people that I root for England at every single tournament, and people laugh at me and say "Why do you always do this to yourself?". I know, I am a masochist. After all, suffering is part and parcel of football.

In 2002, I spent 30 minutes crying to my best friend (a Brazil fan) when Brazil beat England at the World Cup quarterfinal. I didn't even want to go to school the day after the match because I was devastated. We still talk about that moment every single time we meet (I cringe every single time).

In 2004 and 2006, I spent the entire week moping about England unfairly losing to Portugal on penalties. Losing on penalties is the worst way to exit a tournament.

In 2008, they didn't even qualify for the EURO Championships. Of course, I cried.

In 2010, I was really upset when they were not given a goal against Germany (poor Lamps will never have his World Cup goal). I am still angry with Neuer because of that.

In 2012, I sat and sighed as I watched England lose to Italy. On penalties. Sigh.

This year, I sat and laughed as England exited the tournament at the group stage. I didn't like the team that was selected (excluding Ashley Cole in favour of the 'youth'), so maybe that's why it was a lot easier to watch England flop play this year. Yes, I do understand the idea of 'mixing it up' but it was done horribly wrong (you should seek advice from Jürgen, Roy).

It's okay, England. You can try again in 2016. Or, you know, whenever.

03. Never underestimate the underdogs.

When the groups were announced, I made predictions of the top two teams from each group. It did not include the likes of Costa Rica, Colombia, Algeria, and Chile.

Oh, how wrong I was. I made the terrible mistake of counting them out. I won't do it again.

They played amazing, beating the top teams (whom you would've expected to actually advance to the second round)!

Chile, perhaps inspired by this video of the Chilean miners, amazingly beat Spain, the current World Cup holders. They also nearly beat Brazil. *coughs*robbed*coughs*

Algeria did well to hold off Germany despite the fact some of the players were fasting on the day of the match. I know I wouldn't have been able to do such a thing, I fainted in the bathroom once due to dehydration while fasting for 19 hours.

I was gutted that they didn't make it far. (*coughs* COLOMBIA AND CHILE WERE ROBBED! *coughs*)

These teams have so much to be proud of, and I hope they will come back for the next World Cup stronger than before.

04. My niece is beginning to show signs of being a football fan.

According to my mum, when Portugal scored the equaliser against the USA, my niece started crying loudly. I still laugh about it because she's only 5 months old, what does she know about football?

No, darling little snowflake, please don't be a mini-me. Watching/supporting a football team gives you enough pain and misery, you don't need that. I mean, look at me and England. Or the Czech Republic. 

SO MUCH PAIN.

05. Sportsmanship is a beautiful thing.

What this old man did, I sincerely hope other football fans will follow suit. Football rivalries exist, but at times you have to look past all that and for once, just be a decent human being. I know I have been a terrible person at times, but I'm trying my best to be better. So should the rest of us.

06. You realise how old you really are.

Miroslav Klose broke the record of the top scorer, surpassing the Brazilian legend Ronaldo. I cried so hard because I've watched him score all 16 goals from 12 years. In the span of those 12 years, I graduated from high school, got a Bachelors degree, got a Masters degree, and found a job.

I've seen all the goals and all the backflips. My inner 15-year-old has been crying non-stop over this.

It's also been 12 years since Germany last featured in a World Cup final. This has been my battle cry the last few days.

*wipes single lone tear streaming down my face*

Yes, I'm ancient. Don't make fun of me.

07. Your best memories of the World Cup always involved the people you loved.

I was always surrounded by friends at every World Cup. We would discuss the matches, cute players (it is an added bonus), and predictions. You could cry at a loss and no one would judge you (okay, not entirely true - refer to point number 2, but it does make good conversation!).

I would watch the matches with my family and I'd always be entertained by their commentaries. In 2010, my dad stayed up with me and we played Blackjack (he cheated) while watching the match and discussing about being away from home for a year. He was also very excited that two of his favourite players from his favourite football team featured in the World Cup final.
(who knew he'd end up hating them a few years after that final?)

This year, I have been fortunate enough to have wonderful friends who would keep me awake with texts and random funny things. It's nice knowing that there are people who are willing to put up with your nonsense at a horrible hour of the day. (#olifortopscorer, eh?)

08. Every other song sounds better than the actual official World Cup 2014 song.

We had quality World Cup songs, and this year, we get THIS.

I would've preferred THIS or THIS to be the official World Cup 2014. (preferably the former, but my niece loves the latter. Who can deny my Colombian queen?)

09. Same, old boring tactics can only get you so far before someone calls you out on it.

I'm looking at you, Spain.

10. The internet is a wonderful place.

One funny moment, and you become an internet sensation. God bless you, you creative little buggers.

Some of my favourites:

Jasper Cillessen being the voice of conscience for James Rodriguez.

Alejandro Sabella channelling his inner Michael Jackson.

Robin van Persie can fly!

That is all for this crazy one month of football. I've enjoyed myself immensely and I hope you had a great time too. See you in the another four years!

(or two years if you're going to watch the UEFA EURO 2016 tournament. I know I will!)

012. Take the night and tear it down.

I suppose I should apologise for the serious lack of updates. I seem to only pop in to write an obligatory post that marks how old I am.

I actually have a post lying in my draft, but I just gave up on it because I really didn't feel like posting it. I might post it when I'm actually ready. We'll just have to wait and see on that one.

I did say to a few people at the beginning of the year that I would start blogging again. Unfortunately, I haven't written anything (except for that draft). Sigh, procrastination is such a terrible thing.

It's the second half of the year, and what a better time to pick to keep to my promise. I will attempt to blog like I used to, not just for the usual "oh boo, I am a year older but hey like wine, I get better with age" nonsense.

Yeah, so here we go again. Let's hope I stick to my promise.

011. Twenty six, plenty to fix.

*wipes the dust off the blog*

A year has passed from my last post. If you are already accustomed to my constant habit of putting off things until the last minute, you shouldn't be THAT surprised.

I am now twenty six. 

What have I gained more this year compared to when I was 25?

Well, I've gained a little weight and this is incredibly frustrating at times. No matter how good you feel about yourself, someone will always throw a jibe in your general direction and say "Eh, you've put on weight!" or my favourite of them all "uh, your boobs and waistline are getting bigger...you better cut down on your food intake".

As a person who is struggling with bulimia, it is hard to accept yourself for everything that you have done and accomplished when you have people throwing comments like that in your face. It just drives you to go back to the old, destructive habits. I started comparing myself when I was living in Sheffield and living in Kuala Lumpur. In Sheffield, no one called me 'fat' because to them I looked 'underaged'. I got picked up by boys who were much younger than me. Here? Just because you're not a size 8, you are automatically labelled 'fat' and 'undeserving of anyone's attention'. It's hard just knowing that the definition of 'being yourself' actually means 'conforming to social ideals'.

But then I read this quote by J.K. Rowling that goes a little like this: 

“Is 'fat' really the worst thing a human being can be? Is 'fat' worse than 'vindictive', 'jealous', 'shallow', 'vain', 'boring' or 'cruel'? Not to me.”

...and I told myself that "You are better than that. So what if you gain weight? You have the brains and brawn to back the goods". I'm learning to love and appreciate my body one day at a time. I'd rather be called 'fat' than 'stupid', to be honest. F-A-T = Fantastic, Acerbic, Tenacious.

I would say that I've gained more perspective on appreciating appearances. Be you, and don't be stupid.

Other things I have gained:

I've gained the wisdom to maintain relationships that are worth keeping and fighting for. The ones that matter will always have your best interests at heart, and the ones that don't are toxic and deserved to be eliminated from your life.
I've gained the wisdom to have faith and believe that things will fall through. Things really do happen for a reason.
I've gained the wisdom to be humble and ask for guidance whenever it was necessary. Being proud is never a good look on anyone.
I've gained the wisdom to be know when to speak and when to listen. Like my dad always says: "God gave you a mouth and two ears for a reason".
I've gained the wisdom that your gut instinct about a person is almost always never wrong. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I've gained new friendships that were fostered from the love of music, television, and sports. It's nice to see that someone appreciates your love/dedication for certain things and still not judge you when you are being ridiculous for crying over a heartbreaking episode of your favourite TV show or even watching your team lose when they shouldn't have at all.

Some of you may ask, "Got boyfriend or not?", and to which my answer will always be "oh he's too busy playing football to come down and see me". Truth be told, I don't think I'm ready yet. I haven't found that one person and I can go around and say "you're my kind of perfect". People say I've set unattainable standards, but I don't think so. I just want someone who appreciates me for all the dumb things I do and say, and still say "I wanna grow old with you". I have been fortunate enough to witness the union of two souls in love. I have also been fortunate enough to see them have little tykes of their own. I hope maybe one day, I would be as fortunate as them. I'm still young (this is coming from a person who constantly complains about being old to numerous people), I should be enjoying my youth. I'm going to do just that until the right one comes along and says "just the two of us against the rest of the world".

Twenty six, still plenty to fix. So many things to do, so little time and money. One day at a time, they say.

I'd like to say 'thank you' to everyone who made my twenty-sixth birthday nothing short of wonderful. Your wishes, texts, calls, tweets, edits, cards, presents, and cakes made me really thankful that you are in my life (despite the fact that I've been a lousy and terrible friend to you). I'd also like to thank Him for keeping me alive to let me see the beauty in the world for another year.

Here's a little something for you before I end: Mark Owen's They Do.

P/S: I will try to update more often. I know I say this every year, but this time I plan on sticking to it.

010. Twenty five, staying alive.

As I sit here and write this, I'm already twenty five. Cue the start of the quarter-life crisis. Turning twenty five isn't as grand as turning 80 or even 100, but as quoted by The Doctor in "The Lazarus Experiment":

Some people live more in twenty years than others do in eighty. It's not the time that matters, it's the person.

I feel like I have accomplished many things in these 25 years. I remember when I was 15, I wrote this list that I named "Things to do before I turn 25" (yes, I know. I am incredibly original). Let me share what I set out for myself in this list of mine.

• gain a Bachelors degree in Psychology
• gain a Masters degree
• study in the United Kingdom
• travel around the United Kingdom and/or Europe
• visit Germany (more specifically, visit Neuschwanstein Castle)
• have a job
• own a Mini Cooper
• buy an apartment unit or a house for my parents
• learn to ride a bicycle
• learn to swim
• get married
• watch a 'live' football match outside Malaysia
• visit all the football stadiums
• learn to cook

Safe to say, some of the things on the list have materialised. 

I have a Bachelors degree in Psychology, something I am quite proud of, given how everyone in family (including the extended ones) have done studied accountancy/finance/business-related subjects. My father used to mention how everyone in the world needs an accountant in hopes that I would actually pursue it. Sadly, I never shared those sentiments. Despite getting a 'A' for accounts (how this happened still remains a mystery), I stuck to my guns and pursued Psychology, much to my father's chagrin.

As soon as I obtained my Bachelors degree, I decided to pursue my Masters degree in Psychology. Instead of following the paths my friends took and dive into the land of employment, I wanted to keep going while I was still in the "I am a student, I need to keep studying" mentality. There was a strange compulsion to keep that momentum going. I took the challenge and decided to go one better: pursue my Masters degree overseas. I moved to a new city/country/continent for a whole year, I had to learn how to do things on my own: cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, medical appointments, the likes. I have always had all these things done for me, and it was definitely a challenge to me as these things were so readily available to me. I was taken out of my comfort zone, away from my family and friends. In that one year, I learnt to be independent and comfortable in my own skin. With this new-found confidence, I jumped at the chance and applied for a summer job working for the university. There, I met so many lovely people of different nationalities and backgrounds. I was no longer timid and shy around others as the job required me to communicate and understand the needs of others. I travelled around the UK (alone and with friends) and I had the best moments of my life. I watched musicals, indulged in art exhibitions, watched football matches 'live' and on my own, toured football grounds that I have always dreamt of visiting, learnt culture and history, and breathed in beautiful sights and sceneries. In the span of one year, I have been fortunate enough to prove to everyone that I was no longer a 'spoilt, pampered princess'. I am now proud, confident and stronger than I was when I was 22.

I now have a permanent job and it has been an eventful seven months or so. I am still learning and I am now ready to take on bigger challenges. There have been some great times, and there have been some not-so great times. I'm learning to take them all as experiences. We all know what experiences do to us - it makes us stronger and smart enough to avoid the same holes we put ourselves in before.

I fell in and out of love. On this matter, I have decided to let things fall into place. I'm in no rush to get married or procreate. I want to enjoy being on my own, for now. I am a little tired of people coming up to me and asking "Don't you want a boyfriend? Why are you not actively looking for one?!". Truth be told, I am just not ready to let myself go completely when I am in love with someone. Being picky may have a small role in my decision, but I just want to love someone when I am ready. I don't want to be forced into getting involved in something/someone only for me to look back and regret about it. I will be ready, and until then, let me enjoy the way my life is going.

I still haven't gone to Germany, but from the time I was 15 until now, I learnt of new places and cultures. I want to explore and experience them all before I die. I still haven't bought a house for my parents, but it's okay, I'm getting there. I am definitely not getting a Mini Cooper, given that I have no intention of driving in this country. As you get a little older (maybe a little wiser, too) you realise that you need to be practical about things and think "Hang on a minute, you can't afford that. Oh well, time for Plan B!".

People have come and gone in my life. Some left, some stayed. If it weren't for any of them, I wouldn't have been the person I am today. I don't believe that time heals all wounds, but it does heal some wounds to a certain extent. I have had falling outs with friend that lasted a few years, only for time to teach me that it was time to forgive. Friendships that ended began again. I lost many great people to death and often times, I go through the five stages of grief. There is never a day that I don't think about them or how much I miss them. It's always in death that you learn to appreciate life. I learn to live my life while I am still alive and breathing.

I am thankful for everyone that has coloured my ordinary life. I am thankful for all the experiences that I have gone through, even the awful ones. Most of all, I am thankful that I am still alive to (hopefully) see through another year.

Happy 25th birthday, self. You are older, wiser, and sweeter. Don't check for grey hair and/or wrinkles, don't sweat the small stuff. A year from now, you will look back on this and tell yourself "There's progress".

A special musical treat for you - Take That's When We Were Young.