A comment I saw in my email prompted me to re-enter this li'l lonely blog of mine.
I stopped blogging here for a few reasons:
1) I felt that it was getting too impersonal and there are horrible people out there who are effectively strangers who attacked me and went snooping around to find my kid's blog to read about our lives so that it can be used as gossip materials to criticise how terrible a mother I am.
2) My now ex-husband knows about my blog and would read the entries when prompted by the horrible individual listed in (1).
3) I became very busy as I occupied my life with work for 12 to 14 hours every day so that I did not have to deal with the grief of losing my father, and was hoping that I could drop dead from exhaustion.
A lot of changes have taken place since it's been years.
I bought a flat and had to go through a never-ending nightmare with the horrible contractor who pretended to be an interior designer. It's been a year but his bad works stay with me despite paying him good money. It's too painful to even put the experience in words.
In short, I went into depression because of the traumatic renovation experience, when I was still struggling to deal with the loss of my father.
I actually broke down at the doctor's and asked if the doctor had pills for me to take so that I could die in my sleep.
To my surprise, the doctor actually said there was such a medicine but it would be unethical for him to prescribe it to me.
He wrote a recommendation letter for me to see a psychiatrist instead.
But I did not go, although I was quite close to going.
It was after work. On my way to the MRT station, I made a call to the hospital to enquire about the appointment. While giving my details, I started to break down. The staff on the other end of the line could tell that my voice was breaking up and she asked me to go to the hospital's A&E department immediately.
I said I would think about it. She gave me a number to call so that I could talk to somebody. Can't recall which voluntary organisation that was but the lady was patient and tried to be empathetic. I sat at the small park for an hour or two talking and eventually feeling calmer.
Subsequently I went through a few weeks of dealing with the unethical contractor’s Letter of Demand for the Variation Order which he tricked me into signing and I paid him $15,000 to get rid of his vile presence in my life.
Until now I am still trying to fix things up in the house although I have moved in.
