Last
Wednesday May the 23rd, 2018 , marked a monumental day for me:
ONE WHOLE DECADE since I’d been released from the insane asylum!!
Oh, sorry,
let me explain: the insane asylum was my pet nickname for the Brain Injuries
Rehabilitation Unit of the Princess Alexandra hospital; I was imprisoned there
for roughly one year after the cruel and unfaithful God so wantonly destroyed
my life with the disabling brain tumor and subsequent massive stroke after
several botched surgeries.
What can I
say? Life’s been good. Note I didn’t say easy. But good. There are days when I
wake up, realize what’s in store for me today (usually a torture session with
Vincent the bloody physio XD) and just want to stick my head back under the
covers, cuddle my teddy bear and deny that even the world exists. So not easy.
But good. I probably have mother to thank for that; she’s always sneering @ me
that were she simply not SAINTLY enough to bring me home from the insane asylum
(the doctors told her that since I’d never walk again – apparently, I’d only be
able to transfer from the car to my wheelchair then from my wheelchair back to
the car – that she should just send me to a nursing home; lemme rot and die.
Well, they didn’t say the rot and die part, but they did the nursing home
part!) I’d surely have kicked the bucket and be six feet under by now. So yeah,
thanks, mother. XD
Another
thing I’m exceedingly thankful for is the amount of quality sleep I get
nowadays. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever get over the trauma of the hellish
nights I spent in the insane asylum, where sleep was practically an
impossibility. Oh, I’d fall asleep but then the cruel and unfaithful God would
send me a terrifying nightmare and I’d be too frightened to fall back asleep
again lest He sent another one. They were always the same: it’d be dark; I’d be
out on the road calling desperately for my parents. I’d spin around several
times, and then remember I’m too bloody disabled for that kinda motion and fall
down. At that point, I’d suddenly jerk awake, terrified. Originally, I’d begged
God to please heal me; I knew He could coz He’d raised His Son from the DEAD
Unfortunately, He wouldn’t; furthermore, He sent me those horrifying
nightmares. Next, I’d tried asking for God to save me from these horrifying
nightmares but He didn’t bother. After I tried asking Him to please love me,
because surely, surely, I’d feel so much better with His warm protective love
cushioning me and keeping me safe? When even that was denied me, finally I just
begged Him to BE THERE FOR ME. Guess who never came?? >< Add to that
nurses coming into your bedroom at all random crazy hours of the night and
doing noisy things, and sleep was basically an impossibility. When I was
finally released, I slept like CRAZY to catch-up! Like, I’d snore away in bed
till like 10:30am /11:30am then get up, have some brunch and
do a lil something. By 3pm , I’d be like, “Mum, I’m sleepy. Afternoon nap
time.” Only my afternoon nap wasn’t like thirty minutes; it was more like
three/four HOURS! Then I’d get up, have dinner with dearest dad and by about 8:30pm /9pm I’d be like, “Mum, I’m sleepy.
Bedtime, good night.” Repeat process again. This carried on for about one
month, to the point where mother was seriously considering taking me to see a
doctor, because surely it can’t be normal to sleep your life away? Luckily,
around that time, my body clock finally starting readjusting itself; turns out
I’d really just needed to catch-up on all that sleep I missed whilst been
imprisoned in the insane asylum. Nowadays, I’m fine with the usual eight hours
most normal people get, but my teddy’s always urging me to have a sleep-in and
get a good snore with him. XD
One thing I
wanna share about that hadn’t occurred back when I wrote the five years post preceding
this (2013 marked five years since I’d first been released from the insane
asylum) is that I’ve finally started dreaming again! Like I’ve already
explained, back during the insane asylum days, it was just nightmare after
nightmare after nightmare. When I was finally released and got my sleeping patterns
back down pat, I just totally stopped dreaming. Like, fall asleep, wake up and
it’s another new day. Repeat. Indeed, I didn’t finally start dreaming again
(nice normal dreams, not the awful nightmares that the cruel and unfaithful God
used to bombard me with nightly) till 2016! That year, I just had three dreams,
all involving the parents and I. Actually, I started a dream journal last year
to record down all the dreams I had and I’ve continued with that practice again
this year. Thankfully, the cruel and unfaithful God has ceased sending me awful
nightmares; I can only hope He’s found someone more hateful to Him than I must
be to torment. Actually, the closest thing I had to a nightmare happened five
days ago: for my 34th dream this year, I answer the door to find a
uniformed policeman saying he’s interviewing everyone along our road because
there’s recently been a MURDER here! O_o I just tell the policeman that
obviously I didn’t kill anyone because since I can’t run anymore (sheesh, I can
barely even walk ><) and it would’ve taken me too long to try and escape
had I actually done anyone in. XD
I’d wanted
to raise both hands, palms opened wide to display ‘ten’, indicating ten years
since I’d been released from the insane asylum; unfortunately, several months
back I had Botox injected into my demented left hand (coz I’m so wrinkly now
XD) and subsequently, my fingers have become, well, unresponsive! O_o My UQ
physio teacher tells me that shouldn’t be too big a problem, that the Botox
muddled up the synapses of my hand and that hopefully they’ll begin responding
in time. Kudos then must go to Aunty Deana, who instructed me to position my
palms facing inwards and that way, I’ve been able to share a photo of me
showing ten fingers, indicating that I’ve been outta the insane asylum for ten
years!
That being
the case, I’m planning to file that whole experience away as a very dark period
in my life and simply try and forget the harrowing time I spent stuck in there.
Easier said than done, obviously, but like I’ve said, being out for ten whole
years surely must be a milestone!
Next post
here … well, I’ve not written much this year, apologies. If nothing else comes
up, you may not here from me again until I write about EM camp and that’s not
like until September! Anyhow, until then~
Cheers,
Em. ^^
