Home Leave 2

Granted home leave again… though almost retracted  by the doctor. That was close. Yesterday and this morning were terrible…. I lose control and “scratch” my arm again. It is still hard to control my emotion. Done ECT #5 today, and surprisingly I feel some improvement in my mood as soon as I woke up. For a few hours at least….. now I’m a bit stressed out again. Please be good Anne. Well at least it started giving effect, I think. 

Leaving Hospital…

… for home leave. Nursing my headache, on my own bed in my own room by writing here. Not a solution, I know; but what else should I do when sleep is imposible? I have counted 688 sheeps before I gave up. Earlier in the ward, I envied those who underwent ECT before me but were yet awaken from their sleep. Such a bliss. I have written lots of entry on the notebook; but whether those shall end up here, only time will tell. 

Just why all my synflex are left at the ward? Urgh…..  Must remember to ask back from them. 

Damning Life

Why is life becoming complicated again. And why did I met Ms B??? Stupid me. I am not able to think this through… I do not know what should I do. Can I just die?? 


I wonder what I feel. I’m pretty much confused of my state of emotion. I’m confused again of whether I’m really sick or faking it. I’m confused of what I should do to cure my emotion and my mind….. to heal it, to be passionate about work again, to have hope in living life as I usually did. 

Staying at home has its own disadvantages, so does being admitted. My buddy in the ward, the most sane person that I can talk to normally has been discharged. Ms B, has been out of HDU and being totally honest, that freaks me out. My problem with the staff can be ignored, but not the with Ms B. 

OK…. the anger is building up. I don’t think I can last till Monday. Probably lamictal not working for me…..

Nothing much to say aside from “I’m super sleepy“. Aidan is already in slumberland and I envy him for that. Shower today is so blissful. I miss the water heater so much. 

Not sure what is going to happen tomorrow…. discharge or no discharge or ect or whatever. My tremor is getting worse. 

Drove my car last night and hit the wall. Shit, my brand new car. What a bad end to a good day. Sigh. 

Sudah jatuh ditimpa tangga. Lepas tu kena pijak dengan gajah

Dear Diary


I miss the blog so much…. many things happen in these two weeks especially the weekends; I feel quite confused. I became very agitated and pissed off at the weekend nurses for insulting me and the weekend oncall doctor for being arrogant. The feel to cut as of now is completely non existance, but is replaced with the outspoken, rude, showing off me. I do not know which one is better…. but they deserves that for sure. 

As for me, I’m taking two nights break from that place to cool off my head before feeling anything, before making any decision; which I have no idea at the moment aside from”please just end”.

I no longer keep track of my night medications….. they are slowly replacing my epilim with lamictal (which I’m very afraid off). Sleeping is still very hellish. 

OK I’m confused now. God please help me get all better by Wednesday. Till the next post TMM. 


Dear TMM, 

The Manic Me……

I created you when I was first diagnosed with bipolar. You are the way for me to vent my feelings. My anger, my depression, my happiness, my ideas…… basically you are my diary. But at times, people found you. 

You are no human, so I think you won’t be missing me if I’m gone hey? No more crazy posts, no more howdy mate!, no more rantings, no more swearing.

Hey TMM….. do you know I’ve bought the razor blade? I tried it on and believe me….. it is the easiet and pain-free way to cut thru skin. How could we not know that before?? 

I’m losing my appetite now, which may be good. I only ate one nasi lemak bungkus this morning. Yesterday, I ate one chicken chop at dinner. Well a meal a day isn’t that bad. 

I’m so angry today… and when I’m angry, I’m dangerous. I spoke to the doctor in a high tone today, and I kicked the chair and backpack in his room. Whatever…. I don’t bloody care. Sick of his non stop why why why why why. I don’t bloody care why, god made me depress so go ask god. With his why why why, I was plotting of murdering myself in my head and the suicidal feeling is growing faster than ever…..

Well as I said, it is my fault. Nobody else’s. Maybe he’s in bad mood or maybe we are not compatible. Maybe it is best for both of us to change doctor. Issue settled. 

Dr W suggested I go to SP or K hospital….. He’ll know me well of what I might do at home. Malas aku nak pegi. We’ll take day by day. 

Dear Dr…. 

This love letter is for the first doctor that diagnosed me with bipolar illness. Dr W. I am still thankful for that. It has been nearly 10 years of ups and downs I guess. You have never given up on me. 

People might saya “wow…. anne is so blessed to still be able to work… aerospace engineer lagi walaupon ada bipolar”. Yeah right. And many never know how much I struggle to keep functioning as it seems. How many extended medical leaves and unpaid leaves, how many drugs mods and their side effects, how much tears of hopelessness, how many cuts and drops of bloods, how many hospitalizations, how many times “jatuh terduduk menangis kat kaki lima”. You are a few that know. No…. they just say I’m the lucky one. Well whatever, that’s not the point. 

Dr W, 

Thank you for trying your best even if I’m no longer under your care. Your hands might be tight at the back, but you did the best you could. It is nobody’s fault if I don’t survive this…. totally mine. You have done everything in your power, even jeopardising your relationship with your ex colleagues. Some sneers that patients at private hospital are not that sick and are attention seekers. But I also know, being a doctor at private hospital is tough too. I have so many times heard the bad perceptions about private doctors are there just for money. But I don’t think that of you. I know you care….. You played a pivotal role  in my health for the past ten years, I trust your judgement, your advice, your recommendation even when it came about other illness of mine. So thank you. Thanks. May Allah’s blessing be upon you all the time. 

Surat Cinta Lagi

Dear TMM,

I know you are the one that understands me the most. They rest might say they do, they care…. but they don’t. 

They like to make me feel guilty. I know their game. I am not a saint and I have never have the intention to be one. 

Before it was perubatan Islam…. for god sake how many times have I gone to those things. Now, acupuncture? I never force people to do what they does not like so please leave me alone. 


I have never ever said she cares more about her than me….. I don’t bloody care. Say whatever she wants to say,  how it hurts my feelings…. my mouth is always sealed shut. I do not want to sin against my mother. 


They talk about cpap machine like it isn’t a big deal. I know money isn’t the problem. But do they know why I’m upset about it? I won’t ever tell because I know my problem is tooooo small compared to others’. Who am a I too complaint right?


They’ll never know… they will never will. 

The Struggle

Dear TMM, 

I no longer care about living. My desire to leave this world is never as strong. I might be selfish by saying that. Not thinking of other people’s feeling. But I do not have the strength to fight anymore. 

It is funny how people are liking my new profile image. If they knew what it means. 

Dearest Jasmin, 

I know I promised to attend your engagement….. but pardon me if I couldn’t make it. I don’t want to ruin your happy day. I never had the intention. Frankly, I’m so happy for you. So do forgive me. 

It is tiring to cry everynight. It has been my ritual to cry, cut and took more meds than I should. 

Dearest Allah, 

Nobody understands the pain except you. Most would only blame my imaan and it really irks me. Some even laugh and made jokes about my suicide plans. Suicide is never a joke, nor attention seeking. Maybe if I die, people will realize that the struggle is real. Anne, a brillint student and engineers, with lots of friends, from quite a wealthy family, funny, favorite niece to almost all uncles, favorite aunties to the kids …. are actually hurting inside. Hurting so much that she has given up on life. The life that is cruel and not fair. 

My love letters series is not completed yet. Till the next post.