I have not had my period for 74 days. The longest was 75. Almost broke the record. But didn’t. And when it comes, I feel like it’s the first day of confinement period after giving birth.
So I’m outside the patio smoking. Truthfully I keep thinking when it’ll be the last stick. Seems that it keeps coming and rarely one stick will do unless it’s just down to one left.
A conversation I had with my husband. Talking about weight that he clearly weighs lesser than I do. I wish I could explain the bloatness of a woman. Then he asked me how I lost my tons of weight when we were divorced.
Well, truthfully… I didn’t have anything. I was still (and still am until 2026) paying off the loan I took for us. I had to pay for the car, fuel, kids, myself etc. So I sold traditional cakes that comes out of my mom’s kitchen at the office. I sold other things as well.
So in the morning, I’d have 1 curry puff. Lunch would be 1 honey lemon tea with 2 half boiled eggs and nothing else for dinner. Sleep was scarce where I would pray with 3-4 hours of sleep. 1 pack of cigarettes a day and a lot of praying.
He fell quiet. I told him, “I know it would bother you if I stay awake at night”. He nodded.
So the conversation fell short. I felt the sadness and strength to survive together then. And I still feel it because I don’t like being 14kgs overweight. It feels heavy.
I need a momentum. I feel lonely. A friend who used to be with me after work to walk around the lake for an hour is no longer staying in town. The gym I enrolled myself in is no longer visited. I have no drive. I have to struggle with the kids’ tuition classes at 8pm-10pm each night. Especially when he’s not around, I fall short on physical and emotional support.
I hope I’ll find someone soon to partner with me. I’m just not driven.