Fill yourself with love, imagine yourself holding someone in pain. Someone in physical pain, or emotional pain. Hold her/ him tightly, tell her/him you would take good care of her/him. Promise her/him. Generate the type of energy that is kind and loving, hug her/him, touch her/him. Practice it. Imagine yourself as someone strong, someone with scars and someone who understands. Someone protective and someone who is willing to take the responsibility to dig deep.
This is my kind of mantra. I will be here, for you, till we see the sun, and you are strong enough to carry one with yourself. My name is called trauma healing. I am just a tool in God’s hand. I use all my might to go through hard times with other people, I stay with their uncomfortable times so that they can find ease and peace and tranquillity on their own.
From time to time, when people around me are not helping. The only thing that consoles me is books. That’s why I buy lots of books. Looking back, I was just looking for answers. Hoping that when familiar words are connected in a way that is unique, I will see the answers that I need. It’s all just therapy. My therapy for my loneliness.
I didn’t know the patterns when I was in England. Because the people around me were more of the friendly and sedate bunch, I bought fewer books. I didn’t NEED that. When I am back to Hong Kong, I started to see the patterns. I need to be surrounded by books. I needed answers. People around me don’t understand. They don’t understand why I am stuck. They think I am free and living happily. I know I am not, but it’s hard for others to understand. They are like ‘dead hearts’ described in the song dead hearts by Stars. It’s hard to know that they are out there and they are people you used to know. It’s hard to know that they still care. They pretended they care but there is no action. They are dead hearts to me. Dead hearts are everywhere. They make me feel I am falling down. They make me sad, so sad.
When people around me are not inspirational or motivational, I see myself falling into a black pit that I know things won’t turn out great. I am crying inside. It’s like a foreseeable depression. So, I hold onto anything and everything. I remind myself of the days I was in England, I hold onto the books I have bought and passages I have written myself. Things I have posted on Twitter, Tumblr and here have been a strong pin for me. They are reminders. Reminders of values and aspirations I have, reminders of the ideal self I want myself to be, reminders of who I have chosen to be, and reminders that I have been blessed by my adventure in England. To all the people I have met, they all have taught me wonderful lessons. Though home still looks the same, something changed inside and it changes everything.