Diana Kurniawan

I was at home when I saw the post that Barb had passed away from a stroke. I was at home watching morning telly when my best friend, JJ, announced on Facebook that her beloved husband fell from El Capitan in Yosemite. I was driving and talking to JJ when I found out that Jeff #1 was found dead on a street corner after being homeless for several months and overdosed on substances. I was working at Target when I was informed of my coworker Jeff's suicide by alcohol poisoning. All four deaths meant something for me this month, and this year, Father's Day will be tough because I lost my Papi in 2021 from a stroke and Covid19. 

June is supposed to be a happy month, but it became a contemplative month for me. I struggled with suicide for fifteen years since I was raped by a group of people in 2001. I wanted to die because the pain was so bad that I couldn't handle it. On top of that, there was a woman and her brothers who kept breaking into my brother's car and we were so afraid of more violence. All that also happened in June and all summer in the 2000s. June has been a tough month for me for quite some time. 

Now, I am reminded of overcoming those hard times and being the past friends of those who died. It is so odd for me to be reminded of them, but I kept feeling their names inside my heart as I pray for their families and loved ones who lost them with me. I don't know why I kept thinking of them, but I suppose the spirits are telling me to value my life and to keep going. To make these beloveds proud and for me to keep them in my heart. 

I lost so many friends in my life, and I've been to about five funerals. I wished that weren't the case. I wished I had been to births and graduations more than I have been to funerals, but it isn't my fault. I could keep talking and thinking about it, but it won't do any good. I think June is a reminder for me of the people who lost their lives too soon and a force to appreciate mine. To keep going, and to make them proud of my progress, because I also didn't know I was going to live this long. I thought I was going to end my life in suicide by 40, but here I am at 49 and counting.

Do i question mortality because of this? You bet. I don't know how much longer I have, but I will keep going. I made it to 49 and will become a half of a century next year. I am grateful, but also somber from the reminder. I will pray about this and to keep praying for my beloved friends's families. I felt their spirits are telling me to work hard on myself and my endeavors. I will do so, and I have been. Until I see them in Heaven, I will send a prayer tonight. 

#JustWrite

This month is especially tough at some parts with it being a reminder of two deaths by suicide for two Jeffs in my past. Both didn't know each other, and died a year apart from each other in the month of June. This month is also Men's Mental Health Month, which makes sense for me, making it a difficult month for men at some parts of their lives. 

I just hope that both Jeffs families are taking care of themselves. Having someone taken away from self harm is the worst feeling because it was a hopeless fight that was lost and nothing could be done about it now. The hardest thing was society's feelings and misconception with suicide, because it is not acceptable, and understandably so. It is the worst crime against oneself, because self harm is harming our own lives for a temporary answer. Our society also immediately believe that those we lost to suicide went in hell and not accepted to heaven. This makes me sad. I somehow still believe that not all suicides end in hell, because the fight is (as I myself struggled with it), excruciatingly rough.

Both Jeffs that I knew were both Christians and they had a rough time with the religion because they were both alcoholics, and were condemned. There were struggles beyond my own understanding that they faced alone and they didn't want anyone to know. From what they told me was they were kicked out of several groups of Christian believers because they relapsed and didn't seek help or the help they sought didn't work out. It was partly the fault of both Jeffs, but I also didn't know the full spectrum of their situations. They hid their fights, and tried their best to seem strong and to keep going, but eventually they lost the fight.

I just hope this month brings men (and also women) to seek mental health more seriously, no matter what state of mind one is in. Especially for men this month, but I won't forget the women as well. It is imperative to know one's mental health even as your self esteem tells you that you can handle things alone. Sometimes our own ego lies and we are behooved to seek help because we cannot handle things alone in the long run. 

I hope this month of June brings people together in the talk about mental health amongst men, especially those facing other ailments and conditions or addictions. I hope healing for us all, and I pray for hope for us all as well.

#JustWrite

I sat down and turned off the engine to my car and sat in the stillness of morning with just the darkness before dawn. I took my phone and searched for a song in my playlist. You raise me up by Josh Groban played on, and I closed my eyes. Inside my mind, I saw my Papi on his hospital bed, heaving from the COVID-19 damage to his lungs. We, his family, were told he just had two more hours to live before he will pass because of the severe damageto his lungs and lack of air. 

I remembered uttering, "Papi, you did a great job with your life," and went on to describe his retirement from Target after 26 years and his trips to Europe with Mami afterwards. It felt like yesterday that he was just sitting on the couch, watching the Great British Baking Show with me, while predicting who will win the trophy. I don't know what it was about May, but I felt his presence most in the Spring time more than any other time during the year. I love reminiscing about him, because he was a good father. He was my beacon of light and I trusted him more than anything. 

My tears rolled down my cheeks and the time said 6:45 am. I listened to Josh Groban, opened my eyes, and sat in the memories of Papi with joy. I knew he was looking out for me and wanted to tell me something this morning. Inside my heart was a whisper, stay in gratitude and stay with Mami and take care of her. Those were the messages I received as I sat in the stillness of dawn this time. The sun rose to the sky and the darkness disappeared with birds flying and I closed my eyes once more. I let the playlist went on, and the next song was Say You Love Me by Jennifer Knapp, and I was humbled. I knew Papi was listening to me. My lips began to move in prayers and I uttered, "Papi, look out for me from heaven."

There was no evidence in the physical and there was no scientific explanation to what happened to Papi after death, but I knew he was in heaven. I just knew from the small moments that came to me in the stillness of morning, or during prayer time, during my moments of depression and during my joys. I knew something was holding me together, keeping me humble and sane, and letting me enjoy my true self. The memories of Papi's kindness are and will always be inside my heart and mind, and that makes it easier for me to remember the joyful times with him.

I know there weren't any explanations of how much he loved me and if he really was watching over me, but the Holy Spirit told me so.

#JustWrite

The rain began to trickle down about two in the afternoon with first just localized rain, then perhaps areas more vast than just a city. I enjoyed the rain on my palms as I walked out to my car after work at four as it was still pouring. I was so happy for it, and I was so happy for a peaceful and calm day today. I couldn't ask for anything more, except that my pain in my leg to go away. 

I put too much pressure on my right leg and it is now sore, but I'm grateful that my weeding was done. I am grateful today compared to yesterday, when I woke up fearful. Today I am so happy and at peace. I worked all day and there were no interruptions from even the customers. Everything was smooth sailing and time went by so quickly.

I will pray for more days like this and more peaceful and calm days where it may feel mundane but it is actually a lovely time. I recalled the times when my life was tumultuous that I couldn't sleep at night and stayed all night praying because I was so afraid. Nowadays, I stay up because I drank too much tea. Time has changed all things and although the changes may be through grief or loss or just change, it has been full of a time to surrender. Surrendering is good for the soul. I will keep doing so.

In the spirit of joy and love, I will stay offline for a bit, and work on my own things for now. I will see you soon and update soon.

Until next time,

#JustWrite.

I woke up today with a fear inside my heart and it made me feel so small. Some days I wake up with an intense fear and it makes me feel so discouraged at my life. Perhaps it was my medication but it might also be because of my hormones. Being in the age of menopausal symptoms makes for a harsh story and it doesn't have to be that way. 

I promised myself to take care of myself. I promised to give myself treats and to listen to uplifting podcasts that will help me. People like Joyce Meyers has helped and it will be a good podcast to listen to for my future to come. I am grateful that technology has made it so that we can all benefit from podcasts and any form of audio sermons and talk shows. I really thrive with the things that helped me so far with those podcasts. 

The fear will be unbearable if I wasn't with medicine and I realized that it is my PTSD and Depression that gets me to be this way. I have to be more intentional in helping myself to calm down and to have peace. I always pray for peace but more so these days. It is good to live without the nerves of having a fear of the future, and to keep learning to stay in the present. 

I will keep battling with the PTSD and Depression and I will keep thriving when the fear comes. I will keep casting it out and keep it at bay. For now, I have work today and it is still five in the morning with a whole new day ahead of me.

Good tidings.

#JustWrite

I realized I was poor when my bank account kept over drafting more than once in three months. It has been tough, and I won't lie, I went through trials and depression because of it. 

But, today...something changed. I realized that I was poor and I was happy. I remembered the song lyric by Puff Daddy that said, More Money More Problems, and it was so true. I only have problems with paying my bills, yet I pay them all on time. I have problems with not having more money to spend but I didn't need much. I didn't want to be rich like Puff Daddy, look where he is now!

I realized that by me being poor, means that everyone else that hurt me was rich and doing well. I stopped comparing, when before I was comparing non-stop of how the haters were doing and I would search online on their whereabouts and their progress. I stopped doing so, and it was freeing. I felt that I didn't need to compare anymore and I didn't need to care anymore because they would all have better lives than me anyhow. I knew I was poor and I might be  at the lowest point in my life, but I didn't feel it. I am grateful that I am not in abject poverty, but I am still low income. Yet, I am happy. 

I know I'm single and have no prospects, and I won't be able to have kids, which meant I will be childless forever. Yet, those facts helped me with my day today. By realizing that everyone was married and have their own lives and their own high paying jobs, meant they were busy. Which meant, I might have lost in the game of prominence and success, yet I felt like I was fine. I didn't care. I stopped caring and I didn't owe them anything. I was working my own life and my own time line and my own future. The best is yet to come for me, while I stopped caring whether it was going to make anyone upset at me. I didn't care about the bitches who wanted me dead, because they're probably busy.

I always had the fear that someone would be angry that I was happy, that my happiness meant that someone wanted to harm me later. I stopped thinking that today. I realized today that I was so poor that nothing would bother the haters with my life. I realized that I was not their competition anymore and I was no longer in the competing game at all. I realized I was just not going to be a matter to anyone with my life. I am living my own life and my own legacy and it was comforting to me. I know who I belong to, and where and with whom my identity lies, and therefore, those past thoughts won't matter anymore. 

I realized a lot of thing today, and it is Sunday today. What revelations did heaven provided for me? It was everything, I believe. 

#JustWrite.

I wrote a blog before this one and it was about how I felt grateful and calm with my life thus far. I erased it.

To tell you the truth, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that all people want is my suffering and posting it as a blog so they can savor the moment of my suffering and feel victorious.

I have so much fear when I'm writing this blog and writing about my life in general. It hurts me to know that there are people out there who want me to suffer and to work at Walmart all of my life and never amount to anything with my writing and that makes them feel happy. To never be able to retire and to succumb to be a cashier all of my life and become less and less fortunate as the days go on. There is nothing wrong with being a cashier at Walmart, but I want to write. I want to write books that I have in me and share my stories. I wish everyone would wish me well. I wish everyone wants me to succeed and triumph, but that's not the case.

It has been my dream to become a writer and I'm pursuing it, but I know there are people who hate me for it. They want me to fail and end at suicide or even better stay stagnant and never reach my potential. I tell myself each day that I have the right to pursue my dream and not have to feel the hurt from others, but there is still a fear. Fear that people who read this blog will use it against me and make me suffer even more. People who would steal ideas and words and use it against me. I worry that those who hates me want malice, hatred, jealousies and death.

I'm afraid that my supervisors will even try to get me written up if they know that I'm writing and pursuing my writing on top of work and helping my Mom. I wonder if they even care, but a part of me has this fear that they want me to work there and never move up or leave, but to grow old and become rotund and end in self harm.

I talk about self harm a lot because I've suffered from it for over a decade and I believe it was about 15 years. I suffered from suicidal ideations for a very long time, and it still lingers at times when something bad happens to me or someone is mean to me. I still have a hard time getting if off my back when I have anxiety. I get to that point often and I worry about myself so much that I would get even more anxious and it becomes a round about busy thoughts. 

I had so much potential, but it all seems to have disappeared and the only thing that's keeping alive is writing. I will try my best and I hope it will be good. I hope people who read this will wish me well and those who know that I'm pursuing writing will also wish me well. I hope I don't have anymore enemies, and I hope my dreams come true. 

#JustWrite

I love getting hugs from my coworkers. It doesn't matter what day it is, as long as I am working, I always give people a hug or ask for a hug from my close friends at work. I cherish every person who works there. Mind you there are days when the Honeypot Thief is lurking, but for the most part, the place is pleasant. 

This morning, I woke up sort of down in my mood, a bit of depression and perhaps even some fears too. Sometimes I don't know what is wrong with me, either, but my energy level wasn't very high this morning. I woke up with just a little fear and sorrow looming over me, and there was a feeling of impending loss. I went to work and listened to some music and got into a better mood.

I arrived at work and walked to my supervisor who assigned me to a register to look after.

The game changer was House. House is 6'5 with long dreds and light skin with dark eyes and dark hair. He reminds me on a stretched out Ice T vertically with a deeper voice. He's so funny and heart warming that I couldn't help but to ask him for a hug. "Give me hug, House," I told him. He came over and said, "Anytime for you," as he wraps me around his arms and I just felt a surge of comfort over me, flowing through my veins. I was so happy I asked him for the hug. We chatted for a minute and told him about my fears of growing old without experiencing marriage or being able to have a partner. I wanted to just even have a boyfriend, but all is at a loss. I am still just praying about it.

But, we all needed a hug from House. He was my game changer. Immediately, I felt better. Then Ted came and he was in his eighties but with a soft kind heart of an eight year old. His heart is made of the soft fuzzies found in stuffed animals and I really cherish working with him. He told me, "If you don't want to tell me, I won't quiz you," he said. I smiled and told him, "I'll tell you but we have to have a tea to sit down." I plan to bring some ice tea for Ted and House one day and we can chat in person, even standing up and just chatting over the register. IT will be joy and optimism of an afternoon spending time with Ted and House. 

These small moments really helps me. Really really really really x infinity helps me. It was joy over negative thoughts, optimism over pessimism, and so much love and hope over sorrow. I am so lucky to have them in my life and I am so lucky that I have a job there where I work. I am so thankful, and although this morning proved to be somewhat challenging, I was so happy afterwards when I came out, with blessings inside my veins. 

#JustWrite

A long drive to Westminster today turned out to be full of anxiety. My mind kept going on a loop of how things will become more expensive in life and I will have to keep up with this money hungry president. I went to the supermarket with my Mom and it was ezpensive! Everything went up by at least a dollar at HMart and the Chinese Market. We had to spend over a hundred for the things that used to cost us just a bit over fifty dollars. I don't know how I'm going to keep up with all this.

Then my mind went on a loop of how I might lose my Mom soon, and I don't know why I'm so terrified about this. She is vulnerable but still has life in her. I think I'm scared because she is becoming older and more fragile. I sat on the driver seat and realized that one day I will be driving home from HMart alone and I will be shopping for just myself. I tried to breathe but it became shallow and my anxiety came up. I was scared.

In times like these I tried to breathe and listen to music and tell myself that it was okay that I thought of those things. It was a thought that was coming up one day and I have to face it with a brave heart. It will be difficult and I will have to face trials, but I hope and pray that I will be strong enough to come out of it. Losing a parent is tough, and you either come out of it or you don't. I, thankfully, dedicated and spent A LOT of time with my parents and I didn't regret it. I could say that I gave my life to helping them and it was a matter of surrendering for me when my Papi passed away. I know it will be the same when I lose my Mami. 

I am toughening myself now, so when it comes time, and I know I won't be prepared for it, I will try to be prepared for it. I have time and in that, I will be patient with my Mom as much as I can. I promised myself that I will care for her until the day she passes this life to heaven. No matter how hard it gets, I will care for her. So far, it's been loving and I'm proud of myself and I'm proud of my Mami who has been a trooper too. Together we will enjoy life together, forever.

#JustWrite

After several weeks of moping around in my tumbleweed mentality of being a victim of The Honeypot Thief, I finally gained my senses. I realized that my gig ain't that bad and that person who stole my Honeypot, will get their reward coming anyhow. I didn't bother to say anything to my supervisor but I did mention it to the store director that people have been stealing in the kitchen area where my bag was stored. I was given a locker earlier this year and I think I will put it to good use. I finally found my password and it's going to be good for me to place my sacred items inside the locker. 

About the job, and my complaint about being in a rut, well, thanks to the Baristas at Starbucks, I had a moment of some Starbucks Barista Philosophy. It ain't bad. The gig and the whole life, I've got to take things one step at a time. It's not rocket science and the paycheck reflects it, but it's decent and my work is honest work. I don't mind and it actually reminds me of some other scenarios that I would rather NOT be in. Unemployment and homelessness.

I can't afford a Mercedes, but I don't really want a Mercedes, either. It's too much to upkeep and if I really have the money, I'd get a Nissan Electric car or a Toyota Electric Car or a Honda. Maybe I'm just a Japanese car type of gal, but who knows...fancy cars don't really interest me anymore. I can, however, afford to put in money for rent with my Mom, and get some goods from the groceries and pay some bills, which I consider courageous, brave and noble acts for my Mom and myself. It's been okay and I'm not complaining. I am grateful for the things I have in my life, and I need to enjoy what I have now with my Mom. 

My Mom won't be around forever and there are days when I'm thankful that I have a flexible job that I can take off certain days for doctor's appointments for her and to take her to church. I am grateful that I have that flexibility whereas with other jobs, I probably won't have the same supportive supervisory staff. I am grateful that my job allows me to talk to others and just be myself and to stay cheerful and talkative and just have a strong day, everyday, in terms of communications and interactions. Some jobs requieres you to stay in front of the computer for long hours, but my job forces me to talk and have conversations with people I don't know. It's a perk, I think. I became an extrovert because of my job. I will keep it together inside my head and heart, and realize that no one has a perfect life, and we can always appreciate what we have more and more.

I'm not upset anymore and I will take care of my things more carefully by placing them in my locker, and putting my name on it. It's a difficult trough that I went through with the stealing, but I am grown up now and just reminding myself that I won't let those small things ruin my job satisfaction.

#JustWrite