Insights into a Bimbo's Mind

Bad Guys Do Exist

Bad guys do exist. If i were to have dinner with some close friends and the topic of my Ex came about, the word 'Bad', would be the nicest word used to describe him around the table. When it comes to describing my Ex, there are no limits to foul words, languages nor dialects used. And after the loud profanities, vulgarities, obscenities in every dialect/language possible, they always end with, 'Miki-C... WHY?? How could you stay with him for FOUR years?? If we would have known, we would have stopped you, tied you to a tree and shouted at you until you woke up!! WHYYYYYY??? How could you do it??"

We read the news everyday and we constantly wonder, why would an abused wife continue to live with her husband? Why would abused children continue to cling on to the very person who hurts them not just physically but also mentally and emotionally? Although I must clarify that what I've been through is nowhere nearly as serious as what the victims in news must have been through, I have a feeling I know how they feel.

Nowadays when i think back of those days when my self-confidence was negative hundred and I was being called, "Stupid and Fat!" on a daily basis by the one person who's suppose to love and adore me, I do try to analyse, "WHAT THE HELL was going on in my head then? Why didn't i just tell him to bloody go to hell!"

I think in the midst of the confusion of having one of my most loved one hurting me, somehow, just somehow, I had started to mistaken fear for love and cruelty for superiority. First of all, my self confidence was completely bludgeoned to death. I felt worthless and he was probably the best thing that can ever happen to me. What with those good looks, good education, intelligence, what other guy like him would want me? Not to mention, he's a fast thinker too. Whatever you had to say, he was two steps ahead and would and could battle any arguments you might put forth.

He made me feel like I absolutely deserved it when he shouted at me in front of a group of friends in a barbeque party for telling someone he just got a promotion. Didn't know it was still a secret. I lived in fear for saying the wrong things. I felt so guilty, sometimes to a point that i felt if he shouted at me, he was right. If he called me "STUPID AND FAT AND SLOW!!" in the context of me doing something wrong, i deserved it. Everyone at the barbeque party went quiet and one girl followed me when i ran to the ladies room.

Yes, i deserved to be shoved to the ground by force when I left his broccoli soaking in water.

I also deserved to be left sitting in a busy coffee shop on my own with my food because he finished his food quick and the coffee shop was getting too hot for him.

I also deserved to be deserted in a shopping complex when i was standing in a long queue. He just left. Yup. He just went to his car and drove home without me. And i didn't even know he left until he didn't pick up my calls and the final walk to the car park confirmed it. The shopping complex was about 45 minutes away from home.

I deserved to be shouted at and called names in public with people looking on for being a few minutes late from a class.

I deserved to be in tears, kneeling on the ground trying to scrub the carpet clean while he shouts at me in front of his business partner because i spilled sauce on the carpet. His business partner looked more embarrassed than anything, trying very hard to stare straight at his computer.

Yes, i deserved it. I deserved it all.

I lived on in this nightmare for years but one night, something happened that made me see the light. I was reading the newspapers about a housewive who got gang-raped by a bunch of robbers in front of her own husband. I showed him the article and said, "What if that's me and you?"

With a bit of horror in his eyes, he turned to me and said, "I will DEFINITELY divorce you!!"... His answer left me stunned. I waited for him to tell me it's a bloody joke but that moment never came. Then I started to realise that he was DEAD serious. How can I share my life with someone who'll leave me when I need him most? Surely I DIDN'T deserve to be gang raped. Why is he then still punishing me when i DIDN'T do anything wrong??

That incident woke me up but yet, I stayed in the relationship for another year. I had hopes. Maybe he would change, maybe he'll get better, maybe he'll love me more tomorrow... But that tomorrow never came... I continued my relationship in the nightmare edition and finally one day, in the midst of one of his loud fits, he threatened to stomp out and then me, with a heart burnt to ashes, I said in a cool tone, "If you really want to leave now, don't ever come back. And leave the keys."

Those were my last words to him. He left the keys and he never came back. That was the end of it. Yet i still cried. After 3 days, all the good memories with him came flowing back and I cried and I cried.

Then one day, his business partner asked me out for dinner. Over dinner, he told me, "Miki-C, one day, you will look back at the day you broke up with him as the best day of your life. Because your relationship with him is over, now the world is your playground. You are given another chance to go out there and find that man of your dreams. I know you only remember the good times now. But think about it. You were having about 30% of good times and 70% of bad times with him. Don't you think now that you're alone again, you can do better than 30%?"

Yes, trust a businessman to give you love advice presented in a very business and statistical way but if you think about it, what he said is so very true. Surely I can be happier without him. Even if i stay happy for half a day all by myself, I would have been declared better off without the asshole.

Very often after that, I reminded myself of all the pain I went through while I was with him and over time, i started to really hate him. I didn't think he deserved happiness. Or more like, I think he deserves happiness about as much as a gang-raped wife deserves to be deserted by her husband. He deserves goodness about as much as the frail old man on the bicycle deserves to be taunted by him when it got in his way. Yet you'll be suprised, in my 4 years with him, I HAVE met friends of his who supports his actions. The first thing his dad told him about me after our first meeting was that i was fat and i should lose some serious weight! So here, now you know where I got that weight complex thing from? And YES, bad guys DO exist.

Ladies, wake up. If you start to feel that everything eventually becomes your fault and your self confidence is constantly being challenged, let this story alert you to ring that fiery alarm at the back of your heads. That's how it starts and most of the time, it doesn't end just tomorrow.

And yes, when I look back at the day he walked out of my door, I might not be thinking so at that time but now, I see it as the best thing that has EVER happened to me. EVER. EVER. EVER.

posted by Miki-C @ 3:45 PM 6 comments

Eyes on Malaysia?

This is a story of how Europeans, or specifically the Dutch in particular see (or more like don’t see) Malaysia. The story began one tragic Monday morning when my mother-in-law had an accident in my home, a few hours before they were bound to fly back to the Netherlands. She climbed onto an office chair with rollers in our study to fetch something from the top shelf. As expected from those devious chairs with rollers, it moved and she fell. It was a bad fall, her shoulders were dislocated and she was in desperate need of professional medical help because she was in pain. And now you and I know, when your shoulders are dislocated, most of the time, ‘being in pain’ is a real understatement. She was in excruciating PAIN!!

My father in law and Narrrling driving at 150kmh in a most dangerous manner, rushed her to the nearest hospital and checked her in at the emergency ward. At Pantai Hospital , my mother in law was hospitalized for half a day, where the doctors most kindly put her under full anesthesia to spare her the pain while they ‘fixed’ her shoulder. After that, they bandaged her up nicely in a soft cast, prescribed her with morphine patches and pain killers and sent her along the way, but not before giving her a letter to pronounce that, she is obviously NOT FIT TO TRAVEL.

So my mother in law came home, had no choice but to miss her flight back to Holland and recuperated for a few days before popping by Pantai again to get a follow up check on her shoulders and also by then, her swollen leg. Before she was pushed out of Pantai hospital in a wheelchair, this time the doctor gave her a letter that says, “FIT TO TRAVEL”.

Immediately, they booked a flight the next day back to Holland. I do understand the rush, since my mother in law has a condition called Muscular Dystrophy, and the doctor in Pantai admitted that this disease of muscular weakness is rare in this part of the world. The fall has somewhat aggraveted the side effects of the Distrophy problem. My mother in law’s joint and muscle problems and pain didn’t look like they were going away very soon.

On the next flight back to the Netherlands, my mother and father in law were on KLM’s business class seats, prepping themselves for the upcoming challenges to seek the proper professional medical help for my mother in law in the fastest speed. For those that are unfamiliar, the Netherlands operate their medical services very differently from Malaysia.

Whether you are rich or poor, young or old, very sick or just quite sick, you MUST go to the medical institution/hospital or clinic prescribed to you by the government, and most of the time, this medical institution is bounded to your residential locations. If you need a heart surgery and you’re filthy rich, you’ll still need to take a number, queue and wait for your turn for surgery and that could be months later. In summary, there is NO such thing as private medical institutions in the Netherlands. Ofcourse, the brighter side of this is that, medical help is always free, it’s for everyone, paid by your compulsory insurance and the government. Everyone is entitled to medical help, whether you live in a mansion or a manhole. There is no discrimination to wealth, race nor connections whatsoever.

So the first thing my parents in law did when they got home, was to drop all their luggage and called the hospital to make an appointment. What they were hoping for was to seek treatment for the dystrophy problems that has gone worse since the fall. My mother in law was in more pain everyday. Over the phone, my mother in law explained the situation, that she had an accident in Malaysia and was treated in a Malaysian hospital for her dislocated shoulder and now would like to get further scans to check on her dystrophy problems because it’s getting worse.

To her surprise, the hospital staff on the other side of the phone sounded shocked that my mother in law got herself treated in a Malaysian hospital and followed on to say that BECAUSE she was treated in a MALAYSIAN hospital (we’re talking about Pantai Hospital here, not just ANY Malaysian hospital in some ulu kampung), she is now NOT allowed to enter the Dutch hospitals anymore. The staff on the phone asked her to go to her prescribed clinic to get a range of tests completed, blood, mouth swab..etc.. and once these tests come back and she can prove that she’s not carrying any bizarre virus or bacteria from Malaysia, THEN she is entitled to make an appointment for the hospital again.

My mother in law tried to convince the hospital staff that the hospital she went to in Malaysia was a prestigious private hospital and to top it up, she was in pain and needed help but all these were in vain. She HAD to get the tests done before she can enter a hospital in the Netherlands.

I tell myself that the Netherland folks are just being extra cautious but I really can’t help but feel surprised when Narrrling told me this. What with the Skyscrapers and Twin towers, F1 circuits and some bizarre Eyes on Malaysia a.k.a London eye wannabe, it looks like we’re still pretty far from proving ourselves to be the civilized nation that we want the world to see us as. For all they know, we could still be living in trees. 50 years of independence is approaching, folks. Look how far we’ve gone.

posted by Miki-C @ 1:58 PM 2 comments