Diana Kurniawan

I'm at a point where I don't care what happens, I just want to live to 100. I know other people have the opposite reactions and would love to just live to 70, but not this girl. After watching The Golden Bachelor last night, I am so excited to get older, not because of the prospect of having love at an older age, but I think people become kinder if they're aging with supportive people around them. Right now, I have girlfriends and guy friends who are so kind and they are so supportive and happy that I'm helping my Mami and writing and working retail at a place that makes me happy. I'm really excited about getting older and being with my friends and hanging out talking about everything life has to offer, even as we are all aging gracefully. 

I know, and it was verified by their stalking phone calls and abusive phone calls that some people aren't happy that I'm getting support and writing and being happy, but to hell with them. I could care less if they died. They've never been that nice to me and they just wanted to use me to get to better people and most of all, the women I was friends with want to abuse me to get to my boyfriends and ex-boyfriends. I have enough worries with caring for my Mami, so those people should already be happy anyway because they succeeded in abusing me and I did nothing to harm them.

I'm happy that I'm writing, and it makes me happy and it heals me. Some days I'm writing nonsense and writing about my traumas and heart aches, but I'm still writing. Other days, I am writing about hopes and faiths and walking with confidence that someone out there received hope and help from my writing. I'm really thinking deep about the things I write and I do write it to help others and not to just help myself. I'm 100% writing to help myself already, but the thought of it helping others, gives me a lift that no one can take. My craft will only get better as I age and I'm so excited! I can't wait to get more mature and to enjoy my maturity. My late Papi sometimes tells me that I'm like a kid, but I know I was a mature kid because I was already taking care of my parents by the age of 35. I'm happy I did, and the happiness took maturity.

With my Mami, I'm so happy that I'm caring for her. Some days it is heart breaking to see her ache and I was scared when she fell down while walking on the sidewalk, but even during the pains, there was joy and I'm happy with her. I'm not always thinking about marriage or thinking about love all the time. I just walk my life and just keep it going with my job, my Mami and my writing and my pup, Mimi. Life is going to get better, and I'm excited to get older because I think by that time, no one will care if I'm dating or not (thanks to The Golden Bachelor, I now believe that I can be found by true love), and no one will care to sabotage that relationship because I've had problems with women sabotaging me and hurting me since I was 15 years old.

I am excited, and I am hopeful, THANK YOU THE GOLDEN BACHELOR. I am now happy that I watched this show, after getting bored of the violence and trauma associated with the show the past few years.  I am a fan. 

#Justwrite

The rush of wind directed my puppy, Mimi, around the corner of a neighborhood where we walked this morning. She kept steering me to the inner hamlet in Loveland, and I noticed I was the only person on the street. Hundreds of Autumn leaves were on the ground as a rush of wind came and made the rustling noise as the leaves walked on the ground towards me. My mood changed for good because of the moment of beauty of leaves walking on the street and even Mimi stopped to witness its miracles towards my mental health. It was so pretty that I was in awe and recorded it on my IG and had to post a realization that these small moments curbed depression and seasonal affect disorder. I was so happy because it was so beautiful and I will always remember to savor moments like these in my life.

Another small miracle of joy came to me when my father passed away in 2021. It was snowing and I wanted to take a long walk outside to relieve some stress. A woman was walking her dog and one of them was a miniature puppy that was weeks old, and we were the only two people on the side walk walking. I couldn't pass the moment without petting the miniature cuteness. For a moment, my tears subsided and the woman asked me what was wrong. I told her that my father had passed away and she empathized because it was still Covid-20 time and we were to stay in our dwellings for quarantine procedures as she understood my sorrows. I asked her if petting her puppy was okay and she was happy to help me and let me cuddle with him. 

Once I was driving with tears in my eyes from work in 2022 because some co-workers were abusive to me and took my belongings and I couldn't stop sobbing. Out the corner of my windshield, I saw a huge bird that turned out to be an eagle perching on the electric pole as it spread its wings to show it off to me. I stopped crying because it was glorious and I was breathless because it was such a big bird and I rarely see eagles in the area.

Something brought these small miracles into my life, and I knew that it was The Almighty. I didn't ask for it, because it came to me at desperate moments, and I did pray for God to intervene in my sadness and bring me joy. I believe my prayers were answered and I know He will help me throughout my life. I realized it and I now have proof that He is faithful to me. All I wanted was help and that was my prayer, God Help Me. And now I know.... He showed me up.

#JustWrite

Perhaps it was Seasonal Affect Disorder (SAD) that has me a bit on edge about my mental health. It is pretty common for those with PTSD and Major Depression. I was in tears because of it, like today and the fleeting thoughts about an ex-boyfriend who I've asked to marry. I wanted to elope so much because I was so in love with him, but it hurts me because it was so long ago but the thoughts were still there. I cried and cried and it hurts me thoroughly through my chest because I know he is long gone and I know it was a tragedy of an experience, but the SAD symptoms had it's winding thoughts.

My Mom was tired of it and so was everyone I know about this misfortune, and I was so fearful of what will happen to my life because of my own illness. I never want to end in self harm and I knew there were a lot of people who wanted that to happen to me, but I am not afraid of them. I just pray fervently that those people will never come across my life anymore and for me to never meet anyone who wants to harm me again. 

I surrender my life to God, because I don't know what will happen to me in the future. I could only hope and truly, that is what was left in my box. I'm worried for myself and I realized that I have to take care of myself more. I won't be able to take care of anyone because no one will take care of me. I am alone in this world and I only have my Mom left, and my siblings have their own families and they won't have time for me. I will try my hardest to keep close to my friends who care about me and will reach out to them when I am so afraid and hurt. The tears keeps coming, even now, as I am typing this blog. I think the SAD symptoms has got its effects over me. 

I will try my best to keep going. I don't want to end at such a wasted way as self-harm and I don't want to keep being this way. I will have to do more therapy and it will be forever, but I need it. I don't want to be hurt by anyone but I won't cower from people. I will keep making friends and keep going and keep working even until I'm in my 80s. I will keep on going....I will keep on going...I will keep on going....I will keep staying alive....staying alive, staying alive, forever....and forever more.

#JustWrite

I know I was hated. By a lot of people, and especially those who assaulted me and those who blamed me for being a victim. I pray forgiveness for them all. I send them love and forgiveness for the unmerciful abuse they sent me, because I don't want to get even, instead I want to get better. I want to heal and I want to confess all of my turmoil and heartaches to God. All of my broken pieces and all of my self-harmful thoughts, and all of my thoughts of the past and all of my failures and rejections, all of the curses that were said over me and even prayed over me, yes..all of those, I say bygones and claim forgiveness over them.

I know there are still some people (especially from past friends and from the men I dated) who wish destructions over me, as I recalled how much they hated me because they've committed crimes over me and it was just because I was working hard and trying to improve and succeed. I also know there are those who wish for me to never amount to anything, and become disabled and handicapped and harmed and end in suicide, and the reason I know this is because they've voiced it out and yelled it out over the cell phone to abuse me. 

I didn't know that I was hurting anyone, because truthfully, I didn't harm them, instead they wanted to yield my life to them and let them take control of my heart, mind and soul. They want to harm me and abuse me so brutally that I won't dare to live. To all those who hurt me, I forgive them all. 

I forgive those who harmed me and abused me. Those who stalked me, even the ones from California to Colorado, and those who abused me through the cell phone and yelled out profanity and called me a bitch and a whore and prostitute. I forgive them all who want me to end in suicide, and I will continue to forgive them each day as I live. I forgive those who want loneliness and singlehood for me, and I don't believe it is my business to know if those people married or not, or have children or not. I forgive those who don't want me to have true love. I forgive them, and I will never harm them as they've harmed me. I have a lot of class and honor towards myself and God.

I forgive those who want me to fear life and to fear living and breathing. I forgive them all. I forgive them for the assaults, the abuses, the slander, the gossip, the labelling and the curses that they even prayed over me. 

Forgiveness is so tough for me, because I didn't do anything wrong to them and I usually feel that forgiving someone usually means to open my heart and life back to them. But, it doesn't have to be. I won't let them harm me again, especially after being assaulted by a group of men, I won't let them assault me or harm me again, even if they stalk me and put a gun on my face.

My forgiveness is not weak, it is strong, because the harm done to me were brutal and severe. My forgiveness is strong and it comes with protection from God towards me, I truly believe it. 

I will try with all of my might to keep forgiving them each day as I know it will be difficult and the road is a long journey. But, forgiveness was never meant to be easy, and those who said it is, probably never tried it. 

The good thing is, I know I am forgiven by God, and I don't need the approvals from those who hurt me, because that's just intimidation and not a resolution. I know I will cause some hatred even with me forgiving at all, and the people who hurt me perhaps believe they don't need it, although that's their hubris, not mine. Yet, I will forgive with all of my might, and I will keep forgiving, each day, one day at time, until God and my mental health proves to forget the times it happened, and that it was a long ago incident that I chose to forgive. 

Father, Have I forsaken you? Why am I afflicted with the mental ailments? When my panic attacks consumes me and leaves me without answers and I gasp for air of the tribulations and desperate need for oxygen? Father, have you not seen my distresses and the hatred of those who hate me and want me to leave this Earth? They come in hundreds and they all pray the same cursed prayers for death of my life. Please Father, have mercy upon my soul and upon my body, mind and health, restore my blessings and restore my mind to peace and calm, as I toil with panic attacks and my work becomes a dreaded occupation. Please help me, so I can work my field and be amongst my friends who love me and care for me at work where I can help the community and heal my life. Have mercy on this servant as I work with my peers and want to complete my mission and purpose to write, pray and labor with joy, so that these panic attacks won't hinder your blessings. Father hear my prayers and laments, as I feel curses over me and into my life from those who hate me and want heartaches and sufferings to harm me. Please cast out demons from my life, my soul, my health and mind so those who do have the powers to offend you with curses and tremors towards me are dumbfounded and avail to nonsense.

Father, help me so I know what to do during these trial times and evening pursuits of labor and mercy so I know how to handle myself. Please help me so I won't be harmed and I won't end my life. Please help my thoughts from spiraling and unknown thoughts of harm towards myself when I don't know what to do during these panic attacks. Please cast out the demons of hopelessness from me. Please cast out panic attacks out of my heart, mind, and soul and even the medications that need to be amended, please guide me through it. Please help me live and help me to live without these burdens of mental ailments although it is a diagnosis, but it doesn't have to be a life burden. Please help me so I know how to handle myself and how I can carry my life and how to carry my illness and how to cope from it. Please forgive me for the things I don't mean to do and for the things I did that was wrong in Your eyes. Help me, God, don't place me in the predicaments of failures and harm. I pray and plead that You will place me in the places of thriving success and to see my growth and my maturity flourish. Please help me, Jesus, to pluck out and cast out the panic attacks from me and the chest I breathe in and out from, to please help me thrive and breathe in love and exhale compassion and to keep breathing in and out for service for You, Jesus. Please have mercy upon me, Jesus, please Father God, hear my lamentations and hear my cry as I suffer these panic attacks during the days and evenings and I cannot function properly without proper breath. Please help me. Cast out these panic attacks from me, forever. Amin.

#JustWrite

Sometimes I hang on by a string, and I could hardly speak of my trauma. It all started when I was abused, since I was young. There was so much fear inside me and I often felt I won't make it in life to be a stable adult. I still felt this way, even now. I just hope and pray that those moments won't spiral and I end with suicidal ideations. For some people, like me, there would be moments when it feels like no one cares. If you do feel this way, dial 988 or dial 911. I don't want you to think that you were meant to leave this Earth before your time. You're important to me, and I have so much compassion for those who have mental health issues.

When I tried to end my life, I almost swallowed all of my pills and another time, I wanted to slash my wrist; but there came a moment when my late father broke the door down when I was in the bathtub, and the earlier time, when my brother slapped my hands from swallowing my pills. There were people who cared about me, and I was lucky. AND.... I know there are people who cares about you.

If you want to end your life, don't. It's a deadly solution for a temporary problem. The thoughts are fleeting and often it comes in spurts, as I deal with PTSD and Depression and I know first hand, how the trauma works. 

Just Breathe, and let it bubble through you and dial 988. At the other end of the phone is a person who cares for you. 

Today is September 10, 2023, and it is World Suicide Prevention Day. I lost friends from suicide (5), and as a suicide survivor (a person who attempted but lived through it), I want you to know that I feel it is more profitable that I lived than died. I have so much to show and to give the world, even when those asshole haters still want me to die and trust me, they come often into the fleeting thoughts, and the memories of the assaults and the bullying still hurts, but don't hang around those thoughts. You are meant to live, not to die. 

Today is special for me, because I survived it and I'm a survivor, and I survived through so much. I love you, and I know you, and if you don't think I do, just let me know that you are a suicide survivor and I already know you by heart. We are kindred spirits, and we need to stick together, to survive together and to be stronger and to live until our last breaths.

Live long and prosper my friend. Dial 988 or Dial 911, and yes....I care.

#JustWrite

My feet had red welts yesterday and my bones were sore. I worked my shift and was part angry for the work, and part grateful for the employment. I felt lesser than with my life, with my dual degree and manual labor job, but my mental health and the assaults prevented me from truly being efficient with a desk job, therefore, so be it. Writing was in my mind the whole time and I couldn't write yesterday because I was so tired, and I felt guilty.

Madeleine Engle once wrote that worship of the craft of writing should be done rain or shine and labor or pain. Those weren't her exact words, but I believe everyone understood that during tired days, it would be the perfect time to worship the craft because the mind works best under the pressure. Well...yesterday, I was sore and cried beyond belief of the pain and the anxiety nearly led me to another suicidal ideation. I was hurting and I couldn't do anything and I fell asleep after the Valerian kicked in. It was to my benefit to sleep and my mind was ready to go into a dream filled slumber. My mind wouldn't have worked properly to compose any sentences right for reading. 

Where should I draw the line? Should I write everyday, even when my bones hurt? I plead to God to give me another choice than write during times like these. To relax for instance and to take a break. I felt I was allowed one, but today, the same thing almost happened but I didn't give in to the pains, instead I wrote, and here was I, typing aways for my 15 minutes of writing, without stopping. The only difference between today and yesterday were the tears and the mental health. I was so tired that I was crying and couldn't compose anything, but today, I was calm, and even now....I am okay.

Sometimes I have to give in to the fact that I wrote my writing with the flaw of my mental health, but what writer isn't? Everyone has some sort of mental health issue, and I won't let that get the best of me. Yet, yesterday, I felt the pains of my hard work and I took the time to rest. It felt right and I was happy I did it. But, from now on...rain or shine, labors of pain, won't stop me. I promised Madeleine when I took the oath of writing. I promised to use my craft to the best of my ability, and to keep going, even when the going gets tough and I had no way out. I promised myself to keep worshipping God through my craft and skills, even when there would be no one else but me to enjoy my own writing. I knew when I wanted to become a writer, this journey would be a very tough and long road. 

I will keep going, and no matter what, with a job was better than without one.

Just write.

The morning promised me a new day and it does often well, but this morning I found myself with memories of her, the woman who broke into my parent's townhome to steal our belongings and my monies. She followed me to Colorado and ended with marrying the man I once loved and it hurts me beyond belief. Her reason was "equality" and "Justice," but where does the justice lie?

Love Thy Neighbor, the verse in the Bible says and I remember that I did not do anything to her, and instead she was sent to me by a lot of hateful people and they all wanted my demise. I have these bouts of memories often and I try to not think of the past and revert to the present moment to help myself and heal. 

The battle goes on each day and each day I meditate to keep those memories away, and to let the bubbles leave me and let go. I realized she took love from me, but I didn't want her to take everything else from me. I will find another love, and I would rather know that I have my sanity and my family intact than to let her take them away too along with my life from self harm. She often stalks me at work and at places I frequent, but I realized that it was all her mental health. I don't want to be her and I don't want to be with her people, whoever they may be. They seemed to be money hungry, lecherous, dirty swindlers and hateful people. I won't want to be with their group and my Father and Mother both told me to let them go, and move on. I have moved on, but memories forced me to let it all out, and meditation asked me to release it unto these pages to let go of the heartaches and the longing for him. I don't deserve to be treated lesser than good. I've been through too much and was hurt beyond belief that I went to the hospital and almost took my own life. I don't deserve to be surrounded by her people and even the man I once loved would want her to be around and to pay her alimony and hurt me in return. 

I am now conscious of the evils that she did and what the man I once loved would be willing to do for her, which is everything. I don't want to be them, and I deserve better.

Love Thy Neighbor, well, I didn't love mine, and I found it self-preserving to not love her and him. They caused me my life and they caused me my mental health and well being. It was with respect for myself that I don't love them, and to keep myself intact and care for myself to not love them. I chose to forgive them, but that's about the bottom line. I want to make sure I will be healthy and be protected from their abuses that they did to me, and protect my own family and our children. We were targeted often in California and I don't want them to keep hurting us and hurting my parents and our children. It has to stop. They came from a place where group violence was a norm and it was to my benefit to not love them. 

It was to love them that I chose to not love them. They needed to learn their own behavior and the evils they did to me. They hurt me and broke into our home and hurt my parents behind their backs, when we were also low income and hurting ourselves from the sexual assaults and the bullying and they kept on. We have to stop loving them, it was too unbearable for us to live with. We needed to help ourselves. Don't get me wrong, I was not prejudiced or racist towards her, she broke into our home and stole our belongings and my money, so it was not about her race, it was about her behavior. She knew she did wrong and she kept on with it. They have to keep away from now on, including starting with me and my memories, and the thoughts of the hurt they caused me. A lot of pain were inflicted by them and I don't want them to inflict pain upon my brothers and sisters. We became smarter and we now know how to help ourselves and to protect ourselves, and it would start with the police department and then the prosecutions with them against us and legal means will be taken towards them and their abuses and even to the man I once loved and their involvements with her. I stopped caring for them and their well being. I was once very cautious of them and what they would want, but now...I want them to go to jail.

The Bitch is the one who spreads gossip because the girl with lesser than normal looks is fat or has a mole on her face. She talks like a bitch because she has no confidence and she has to put you down in the gutter or attack your braids and wear her thongs outside her jeans to show her beauty. The Bitch is the one who talks shit behind your back or in front of you to get ahead. The one who invites you to a party full of men who rape and tells you to get drunk and stay in the living room with those rapists. The Bitch talks shit about other women because she wants men to love her, and sees bad things in others because she wants others to affirm she is superior in comparison to other women. The Bitch be bitchin'....all the time, and she can't seem to want peace unless she gets a line of millionaires wanting to date her. She wants all the men or want all the men to date women like her. She doesn't want to work because she wants her man to compensate for her blow job she gives him at night, and this might sound double edged, but she feels she has to be compensated for everything. She wants men with money because she wants to be the princess and she's too good for work because it might break a nail or she might get tired. She wants his inheritance and yours too, in case you're rich. The Bitch is unkind. The Bitch is good to people with money or good looks. The Bitch is the shame of all women because she's an abusive criminal but she doesn't care and continues to harm hard working women who just wants to be stable. The Bitch wants to be bigger than life itself because she wants her life to matter, but ridicules the lives of others, even yours. The Bitch doesn't stand up for women's rights because all she cares about is money and men with money and sex and fame and more money. The Bitch tells other women to get therapy but won't get therapy herself. She feels other women are insane and needs to get therapy, crazy, or dumb. The Bitch likes her name because it's a compliment to bitches like her. The Bitch gets her name by being a big bitch, but the strange thing is...she loves it.

My eyes throbbed from sobbing after a sip of my half-calf Americano with skim milk at Trident Bookstore in Boulder. Alone at the back corner with my head down I mumbled crazy to myself with my eyes swollen red. Post-traumatic-stress-disorder symptoms often comes when I have inspirations and when I felt happy from a good day. Jesus, The Baristo, came to my table and held my shoulder. He asked, "Did I make the Americano too strong?" I looked into his eyes and said to him, "Are you trying to trick me? To go into Hell?" I wiped my tears with my left hand as my right was covered with snot mucus from my nostrils. "You drank some of the crushed Espresso Beans that was on the bottom of the machine. I need to clean that thing," said Jesus. I threw the cup at his face, and yelled, "You're a nasty coffee maker. Why did you give me suicidal ideations?!" I hated Jesus. Jesus wept. He took my hands and kissed them, then said, "I could make it all go away. But you have to stop drinking water."