I know there's a cloud of animosity lingering over my temple. I'm aware of your countless wonders with why I have this bad habit of disappearing. Disappearing without an ounce of effort to inform anyone. And the wonder of why I continue this tendency of distancing myself from friends, family, the general public? Thus, so strange how a woman full of potential and wonder can have the social sphere "wondering"?
I wanted to take this time to fill everyone in on the gap I constantly leave. Please know you're not the only one, and I sincerely don't mean to shut anyone out personally. I deeply apologize for any hurt or worry I've brought anyone. I am at fault for my magic tricks, but trust me when I say - It feels more like black magic because the truth is, I've been fighting my own demons for a long time. Yes, it is what I guess doctors would diagnose as a disease, or some even as a mental illness. Its depression. You know, we fear words like disease, we fear words like mental and illness. We're very amaurotic to the word depression even, especially in my Asian community. Maybe our elders just haven't been educated about it enough, because in our community we view depression as a "white" people issue. It's not - it's a human issue. And it's made me spiral into the deepest depths of darkness. It's made me quit on life.
2011, to date has been inevitably the worse year of my existence. I'll start from the beginning.
For a few months I've been looking into creating a career out of my passion for photography. My dream job par-say. During this trial, I've just had two small boys under the age of two. While I was forecasting dreams of living my future adolescent fantasy, my father fell ill to what could be an accumulation of diabetes and cancer. My dad was a very tall and husky old man. Usually kept his opinions to himself. He made smoking cigarettes look classy. His hair was like James Dean, always brushed back and his style was always in black with such a tailored look with even such simple pieces on. He's so legendary honestly, it must be where I got my calm, cool and collectiveness from. With already being aware of having diabetes, he did change his diet. Soon later he eventually stopped smoking. Though knowing about his own sickness, he'd be very nonchalant about it. Almost casual, as to his routine would have no change nor a single hint of any suffering. It regrettably made me just as nonchalant, just as blind to over look it, just as he would have wished for everyone to be. I'm holding this thump in my throat as I also want to laugh at how great of an actor he was. I lived with my parents for about two years, assuming it would help me with being a new mother and undoubtedly assuming it wouldn't be disruptive to anyone's life.
As weeks would pass, my fathers demeanor would slightly differ from the norm. With this, his weight would also decrease as weeks began passing. He'd wear layers of clothes, and we'd start hearing constant complaints about little things, saying things in our native language Khmer - why's the window open, it's freezing. why are you yelling at your kids, it's ear shattering, mind you windows were rarely open and I never even came close to raising my voice to two small infants. Then his demeanor began to grow on me, I'd be carrying a crying baby at 3 in the morning and he'll step out of the house to what seems like seeking for peace and quiet. There it was, the guilt of feeling like a burden in my parent's house hold. Then one day after his numerous visits to the doctor for blood test after blood test without finding why he's in actually succumbing to cancer, my kids would be like any usual children playing in the living room, making noise and occasionally crying and being needy; he stepped out of his room and simply said in Khmer "I can't sleep, your children are making too much noise, I just want rest, I don't want to die, Dad wants to live a little longer daughter." Words that still sink into my heart til this day. The extensive burden in my heart could no longer withstand it. The feeling of guilt as if my presence is deteriorating my fathers health. Within a week or so, I was in search for an apartment, I didn't want to be around my father any longer, I wanted to give him some peace for once. I wanted him to be at ease. But I also grew anger towards him for not understanding how hard it was to care for my kids. So I just kept it a secret about seeking a new residence.
That same week, my father's blood pressure decreased by 85%. He was admitted to the hospital, where there - they did proper blood tests and confirmed he had aggressive stage 4 cancer (I won't disclose which kind). He came home after a night in the hospital. He refused treatment. He refused the whole chemo and only accepted blood transfusions. Ultimately his white blood cells has reduced greatly. I told him, "Daddy, please get treatment, I want you to get better." He responded with, "This is how they kill us, they purposely put us through this pain to reduce the numbers of sick old patients, this is how my friends passed away, I don't want the same demise". His once solemn and calm nature became so aggressive to confrontation, he was just - a different person. It became scary and almost dangerous for my kids to be around. My mom had to start caring for my dad, bathing him and feeding him, helping him to the washroom. It was just such a heart breaking scene to witness. My heart broke for my mom to have to nurture my father like a child and they just wouldn't involve me with anything. They saw me as a busy mom caring for my own children. Though I understand, they didn't want to disrupt my current duties, but at this point I'm frustrated it made me just hopeless, severely powerless in offering help in anyway. It was about a week apart since that day, it was about after midnight when my father told me he's feeling weak with chills again. It's his blood pressure we assumed. I had to call an ambulance. Where these disgusting medics forced my dad to stand up and walk to prove to them how much pain he's in before taking him into emergency. He was on the verge of tears because he's embarrassed, with pain and cold - they refused to cover him with a blanket or jacket when he was pale and cold to the touch. My oldest brother went with him to the hospital.
The next morning, I had an appointment to view a condo in downtown Hamilton around 7PM, it was previously scheduled two weeks prior. Before heading out to my appointment I went to visit my dad at the hospital. I remember, walking into Juravinski Hospital, having a nice chat with the woman at the front desk about my dad, she showed me the way to find him. My mom had already arrived. I walked straight and the curtains were up, I can only see a partial bit of my dad's shoulder. I walked in and he smiled. I asked him how he's feeling and if he's coming home. He replied he's okay, and nodded about coming home. I asked my mom if she was hungry, I'll go grab food for her. She said dad can't speak too much (because he had tubes in his throat) but he looked in good spirits. Just another blood pressure issue like last time. Awaiting blood transfusions again. I was afraid to hurt my dad with a hug, so I placed my hand on his foot at the end of the bed, looking up at him with a sincere grin. He would look right back at me and give the same grin. I just wanted to cry. With my voice cracking, I quickly said I'll be back later in the evening with food for mom as I had to be somewhere for a few minutes. As I walked back down the hall to the exit, for what felt like life was in slow motion, tears streamed down my face - completely obvious to those who walked pass me. I couldn't face him. I wasn't brave. It hurts too much to see him there. The pain was paralyzing.
I was so emotional about seeing my dad in the hospital I couldn't even go view the condo. By then my brothers and sister were in the hospital visiting my dad as well. I came home, alone with my two kids and just cried. That harrowing feeling was in the pit of my stomach. I prayed. At around 7PM, I received a phone call from my brother. (Sighs*) I hate phone calls. "Maap, daddy passed away..." My heart stops, my knees buckle, my ears start ringing, I couldn't even process what he's telling me after. I'm inconsolable. "When... how." - "Don't cry, be strong okay. Be strong. I love you." But dad told me, he's okay, he's coming home. "Doctors said he's suffering, it's the cancer and they had to let him go. He was suffering." - That's all I can remember my brother telling me that night.
I now will only have this never ending guilt that I have to live with. Why did I have so much anger against my dad I wanted to run away by getting a condo, if I wasn't so selfish, I wouldn't of even had plans to view a place. I would of stayed with my dad in the hospital. That feeling of it's too late to change things. I was the only one out of my siblings that wasn't there to say goodbye. I hate myself, over and over again. It's my fault. If I was a better mother, I would of helped my dad with things regarding his sickness. I should've known better. I would of made sure my kids only played down stairs so he can rest. I, I just have a long list of things I wish I could turn back but can't. So stupid of me to think so much of myself. I just couldn't cope with it, because I feel so at fault. I should of stayed. I wish I stayed. You know what's sad, that it takes someone's death for you to finally appreciate and love them. Because day after day all I think about is how hard my dad's life has been. His only goal in life was to care for his children. He came to Canada, couldn't speak English He worked all his life, in the most down right physically hardest jobs ever, from metal working, to hard labour and farm work. He even worked after the age of retirement. Where was I to help pay his bills. He's only been on two vacations in his life. He never had a day in his life, where he can just relax without worrying about providing for four kids. I don't know what else to write without feeling utterly helpless and all this endless guilt.
Daddy, I love you. So much. It took me two years after your passing to finally have the courage to write any of this. To have the courage to share my story. I feel it's time to finally get it off my chest. It's been such a hardship on my heart that I can longer hold in my emotions. Daddy, I wish I was there for you through everything. I don't blame you for hiding it from us. But I'm sad that we weren't able to take you to out on family outings. To spend quality time with you. I miss you so much. It's so hard to not see you everyday. Everything reminds me of you. I feel even more selfish that I would go out of my way to keep myself occupied so I won't think of you. I'm so sorry that I blame myself so much, that I have guilt in my heart. I know you say there should be no regrets in life. But I regret so much after you left us. I regret so much. I stopped sleeping because even the most sweetest dreams will remind me of you. I hold my breath constantly. Daddy, I can only promise your grandchildren will never forget you. I will never bury your last name, your legacy. I can only wish that keeping to our faith will allow me to reincarnate back into the same life I live today, with you, mommy and everyone I love. This is the life I want to re-live over and over, and with each life - I promise I'll make it better for you, mommy and everyone. That's all I pray for. Like I say over and over again, I'm sorry if my tears have woken your sleep, may you rest in peace. I love you.
You would assume that this would be the only reason for me to develop severe depression, but this was just the beginning. As if 2011 wasn't hard enough for me. It later became a true test of my inner strength.
Part 2 - coming soon.
The next morning, I had an appointment to view a condo in downtown Hamilton around 7PM, it was previously scheduled two weeks prior. Before heading out to my appointment I went to visit my dad at the hospital. I remember, walking into Juravinski Hospital, having a nice chat with the woman at the front desk about my dad, she showed me the way to find him. My mom had already arrived. I walked straight and the curtains were up, I can only see a partial bit of my dad's shoulder. I walked in and he smiled. I asked him how he's feeling and if he's coming home. He replied he's okay, and nodded about coming home. I asked my mom if she was hungry, I'll go grab food for her. She said dad can't speak too much (because he had tubes in his throat) but he looked in good spirits. Just another blood pressure issue like last time. Awaiting blood transfusions again. I was afraid to hurt my dad with a hug, so I placed my hand on his foot at the end of the bed, looking up at him with a sincere grin. He would look right back at me and give the same grin. I just wanted to cry. With my voice cracking, I quickly said I'll be back later in the evening with food for mom as I had to be somewhere for a few minutes. As I walked back down the hall to the exit, for what felt like life was in slow motion, tears streamed down my face - completely obvious to those who walked pass me. I couldn't face him. I wasn't brave. It hurts too much to see him there. The pain was paralyzing.
I was so emotional about seeing my dad in the hospital I couldn't even go view the condo. By then my brothers and sister were in the hospital visiting my dad as well. I came home, alone with my two kids and just cried. That harrowing feeling was in the pit of my stomach. I prayed. At around 7PM, I received a phone call from my brother. (Sighs*) I hate phone calls. "Maap, daddy passed away..." My heart stops, my knees buckle, my ears start ringing, I couldn't even process what he's telling me after. I'm inconsolable. "When... how." - "Don't cry, be strong okay. Be strong. I love you." But dad told me, he's okay, he's coming home. "Doctors said he's suffering, it's the cancer and they had to let him go. He was suffering." - That's all I can remember my brother telling me that night.
I now will only have this never ending guilt that I have to live with. Why did I have so much anger against my dad I wanted to run away by getting a condo, if I wasn't so selfish, I wouldn't of even had plans to view a place. I would of stayed with my dad in the hospital. That feeling of it's too late to change things. I was the only one out of my siblings that wasn't there to say goodbye. I hate myself, over and over again. It's my fault. If I was a better mother, I would of helped my dad with things regarding his sickness. I should've known better. I would of made sure my kids only played down stairs so he can rest. I, I just have a long list of things I wish I could turn back but can't. So stupid of me to think so much of myself. I just couldn't cope with it, because I feel so at fault. I should of stayed. I wish I stayed. You know what's sad, that it takes someone's death for you to finally appreciate and love them. Because day after day all I think about is how hard my dad's life has been. His only goal in life was to care for his children. He came to Canada, couldn't speak English He worked all his life, in the most down right physically hardest jobs ever, from metal working, to hard labour and farm work. He even worked after the age of retirement. Where was I to help pay his bills. He's only been on two vacations in his life. He never had a day in his life, where he can just relax without worrying about providing for four kids. I don't know what else to write without feeling utterly helpless and all this endless guilt.
Daddy, I love you. So much. It took me two years after your passing to finally have the courage to write any of this. To have the courage to share my story. I feel it's time to finally get it off my chest. It's been such a hardship on my heart that I can longer hold in my emotions. Daddy, I wish I was there for you through everything. I don't blame you for hiding it from us. But I'm sad that we weren't able to take you to out on family outings. To spend quality time with you. I miss you so much. It's so hard to not see you everyday. Everything reminds me of you. I feel even more selfish that I would go out of my way to keep myself occupied so I won't think of you. I'm so sorry that I blame myself so much, that I have guilt in my heart. I know you say there should be no regrets in life. But I regret so much after you left us. I regret so much. I stopped sleeping because even the most sweetest dreams will remind me of you. I hold my breath constantly. Daddy, I can only promise your grandchildren will never forget you. I will never bury your last name, your legacy. I can only wish that keeping to our faith will allow me to reincarnate back into the same life I live today, with you, mommy and everyone I love. This is the life I want to re-live over and over, and with each life - I promise I'll make it better for you, mommy and everyone. That's all I pray for. Like I say over and over again, I'm sorry if my tears have woken your sleep, may you rest in peace. I love you.
You would assume that this would be the only reason for me to develop severe depression, but this was just the beginning. As if 2011 wasn't hard enough for me. It later became a true test of my inner strength.
Part 2 - coming soon.
