potatough

main blog // 25 // Indonesia // a tough patata

[toughpotatostuff]

The first mom in the friend group

I've reached new kind of trenches.. I was the first mom in the friend group

No one prepares me for this. The loneliness, the conflicting thoughts I had in my mind. No one told me that being the first mom in the group is constantly feeling like I want my girls to reach the stars before settling down while at the same time longing for a listener who can relate to each of my struggle as a mom.

"Don't you have your husband?" He is, no matter how I see him as my best bestfriend, still a man. He will never relate to any of my struggle. His life has changed so little compared to mine. He can, of course, sympathize. But he will not give me insights, and to be utterly honest, insights from HIS POV is the last thing I want to hear right now.

So here we are again, talking about the only mom in the friend group for now. I will never get tired of reminding my single friends that;

THE VILLAGE IS GONE, GUYS

It takes a village to raise a child and due to capitalism, the village has gone. You will be very very much alone and loneliness follows. I think I got it now why other emotionally immature adults were so urging about other people fertility & willingness to have children. Because motherhood.. parenthood.. is a secret society that they had joined in mostly unconsciously. And what these people did were just exactly the same thing as what people in cult did. The other day my DINK friend was worried about her fertility. I told her to not to worry if you were not planning to have a child soon. Because that's where your judgement get clouded; having a child is not for the sake of removing the fear of infertility.

"Do you really love your child, though?" I love my daughter, more than anything in this world. I would die for her. But it feels harder to live for her. In a world that doesn't value a mother, or caregiving work. And that degrading belief is also amplified by the same gender who also bear the fetus, as if they don't work the same reproductive work as I did. As if they wanted me to feel the same pain they felt when they left their children to do "high-value" work.

All this feeling just to have a daughter. Because I do want her to have an example. That she can become anything. That is also why I want to work again. Because I have a daughter.

That's all my conflicting belief. I don't know where it begins nor when it's ending. I don't know whether it's right or wrong. I just want to put it out there.. like an astronout screaming into an empty space.. I don't wish to be heard.. just want to let things out.. at least I don't keep them alone even though right now I am indeed alone

[toughpotatostuff]

It's hard to forget even now

Aku menahan diri sendiri untuk tidak mudah berbagi hal bahagia tentang hidupku karena aku refleks mencari trauma & kesedihan apa yang bisa aku recall setelahnya. Mekanisme kompensasi? Mungkin. Yang jelas setelah euforia konser boyband sepuh kesayanganku, aku teringat masa kelam itu. Sebelum aku bertemu si banjingan tengik narsisistik. Sebelum aku kehilangan lingkung pertemanan sehat yang dulu jadi support systemku di masa preklinik. Sebelum aku kehilangan akarku.

Satu hal tentang pengkhianatan, ia selalu datang dari orang yang tidak pernah kamu sangka. Begitupun dirinya. Mencabik habis kewarasanku, jauh lebih dulu sebelum si bajingan tengik. Membuatku bertanya-tanya apakah aku masih bisa percaya dengan memoriku, dengan otakku sendiri.

Teman-temanku yang lain memilih mempertahankan dia, melepasliarkan aku tanpa ampun. Aku menggelandang sendirian di fase terberatku, fase skripsi dan pre-koas. Mengingat orang ini seperti mengingat ruminasi yang kulakukan di kamar kos gelap dan lembab :

"Apa yang aku tidak bisa berikan untuk mereka, dibanding dia?"

"Mengapa mereka tetap utuh dan baik saja, sedang aku harus hancur dan merana sendirian?"

Selama ini aku berusaha melupakan masa-masa itu. Namun, semakin aku berusaha semakin berkelebat memori tentangnya. Lucunya, malah semakin menegasikan kalau ia pernah benar-benar adalah teman terdekatku dulu.

Hal-hal seperti,

"Aku pengen kaya kamu. Kamu bisa pede banget"

Seringkali ia berkaca sambil berkata, "Aku gendut banget" ketika orang dengan minus 5 sekalipun bisa dengan mudahnya memilih siapa yang lebih gendut diantara aku dan dia dalam jarak 5 meter

I hate her ED-ass, because it was very contagious. I hate her pretentious ass. And I hate her even more because how could I be the only one who can tell??????

[toughpotatostuff]

Maybe they're right about me

I'm not cut out for a perfect mom

Or a perfect wife

I'm not even a decent person

I'm immature

Selfish

I put myself above anyone everytime

Even though I'm feeling like I always

Give

Give

Give

Until what I got is

Less

Less

And less

Until all that's left is nothing

I got nothing

Until one thing I really want right now

Is a bullet nested beneath my brainstem

[toughpotatostuff]

I changed my mind (my best birthday ever)

On my birthday I woke up just like any other morning; dull and exhausted. The baby was already downstair with my husband. After several minutes of collecting my consciousness, I went downstair to the TV room. All of a sudden I heard a trumpet.. which turned out to be the intro to classic Jamrud's song (lmao) played by my husband (lololololol). He gave me a suprise gift along with notes (the best birthday wishes of my life). The gift was actually my own clothes, modified to be breastfeeding friendly <3 He knew that I was really sad that I couldnt wear all my clothes pre-breastfeeding. Couldnt ask for better birthday than this. Thank you my husband <333333

[toughpotatostuff]

This is 27th years old me and postpartum hormones speaking..

Pertama, aku bingung mau mulai dari mana. Apakah harus mulai dari sudah lama sejak aku membuka situs ini dan mengetik sesuatu? Atau haruskah aku mulai dari pengakuan banyak orang mengenai usia 27; "something just get unlocked, totally different than hitting 25" kalau kata dua sahabatku yang kebetulan sudah duluan menginjak 27.

Banyak hal sudah terlewati sejak terakhir aku curhat di sini. I ended that toxic relationship, I took the oath, I made it to Borneo to complete my obligatory clinical internship, I met a man who later took my hand in marriage and is the father to my lovely baby girl. Diceritakan seperti ini membuatnya terdengar sangat terburu-buru. Tapi sungguh bersama lelaki ini jiwaku merasa pulang. Mungkin itulah yang dinamakan jodoh. Hanya 2 tahun kurang sejak pertama berkenalan untuk kami menikah, dengan mayoritas waktunya dihabiskan membahas pernikahan meski sayang harus long-distance karena internship.

Setelah menikah, kami tidak langsung menargetkan untuk punya anak. Setelah memeriksakan diri ke dokter, ternyata aku punya PCO(S?). Mungkin itu biang masalah dari gangguan mood, gangguan tidur, gangguan metabolisme yang selama ini aku keluhkan. Ternyata selama ini, aku gagal ovulasi. Setelah usaha olahraga, jaga makan, dan minum suplemen, tidak disangka datanglah karunia itu. Aku hamil.

Trimester 1 sangat berat buatku. Kerjaan dokter jaga dan IGD benar-benar tidak sanggup aku lakukan karena energiku hilang. Mual-muntah pun memberat dengan terlewatnya waktu makan. Aku akhirnya resign di usia kehamilan 4 bulan. Meski di trimester 2 aku agak menyesali keputusan resign karena beberapa keluhan mulai membaik, tapi di trimester 3 penyesalan itu hilang kembali karena perutku tumbuh sangat besar. Seperti paus. Aku bisa terengah-engah untuk kegiatan sederhana. Untung aku sudah resign karena di trimester 3 aku energiku benar-benar habis. Sehari-hari aku hanya makan, tidur, dan rebahan.

Puji Tuhan, bayiku lahir dengan keadaan baik. Akupun sukses melewati proses melahirkan hidup-hidup. Namun, tidak ada yang mengalahkan rasa sakit menyusui. Aku dengan sadar akan lebih memilih lahiran lagi daripada menyusui pertama kali lagi.

Kalau aku boleh jujur, motherhood really is a secret society. You wouldn't understand a thing, unless you're part of it. Even when you've heard everything from me, or from other mothers, you wouldn't /get/ it. To be honest, I was shocked at first. By having a child, by becoming a mother, by being part of this secret society. I was angry too. To other mothers generally, to my own mother specifically. Why didn't she tell me firsthand before everything unfolded. Especially because she was the one insisting on not to delay having a child. But all of those are behind me now. Today, I'm grateful of my baby girl. She's a little piece of heaven for me after a hell of pregnancy and childbirth.

Postpartum really was not a joke. The moment I birthed the baby was the moment I was also born again as a whole new person. I saw differently, I acted differently, I thought differently. It's beyond the looks. I looked different that's for sure. Sometimes I look through my old photos thinking I miss that girl so much. But it's no use looking back. Stop trying to go back, it's gone. Right now I wish I could be kinder to my pre-pregnancy body. Maybe a few years from now, I would wish the same thing for this body. The body that birthed a cute baby girl.

I am actually so melancholic nearing my birthday. I am typing this as I wait for midnight to strike. An old habit of mine since I graduated high school. I let my mind wonder (or more like, spiraling). Is there anyone out there who's grateful of me being born. Is it childish? Yes, but it does matter to me. This year, actually, I would like to think I don't have a birthday. Because it just really sucks to know no one is grateful of me being born to this earth. Maybe except my baby, who doesn't speak yet.

[8-bitfiction]

[toughpotatostuff]

Looking back, it was so stupid of me to think that this pregnancy was not meant to be. I mean, I was and am so happy with my husband. We made this bundle of joy together, from our love and happiness 🥰🥰

This pregnancy might change me, inside and outside. Mentally and physically. But one thing will never change; we're pregnant out of happiness..and love..and I will never regret it because this child will know how deeply his/her parents love each other 🥰🥰

Ya Allah, thank you for this amazing husband and father-to-be.. he's truly the love I deserve.. the love I'm meant for 🥰🥰

[toughpotatostuff]

Kelopek koreng

Selang sekian tahun sejak terakhir aku menumpahkan nila-nila kehidupan di sini. Sekarang aku sudah menikah dengan lelaki yang selalu kuimpikan wujudnya, yang saat ini sedang khidmat tenggelam dalam pelajaran bahasa inggrisnya.

Aku selalu sangat bersyukur akan pernikahan kami, terlebih di hari ini. Siang tadi, entah dalam pengaruh setan mana, aku mencari alamat rumah si bajingan itu di street view google maps. Sama seperti beberapa tahun lalu, waktu itu, aku pun tidak menemukan rumahnya.

Hingga siang ini.

Setelah kutelusur satu persatu jalan selebar 1 mobil dengan penomoran yang amburadul itu, akhirnya kutemukan rumah dengan nomor itu. Tanda nomor rumah yang sesederhana angka yang dicat warna hitam pada tembok depan rumah. Tanpa pagar, tanpa garasi. Selama ini di street view tahun-tahun sebelumnya, nomor rumah itu tertutup tirai bambu berdebu yang sekalian menutupi seluruh fasad rumah. Rumah itu pernah merupakan rumah makan padang dan usaha sablon sebelumnya. Mungkin milik keluarga si bajingan itu.

Namun sesungguhnya yang membuatku syok bukanlah keadaan rumahnya yang tidak layak sebagai rumah tinggal, apalagi menurut cerita si bajingan itu, ia tinggal bersama keluarga besar termasuk nenek-om-tante-sepupu di situ. Pun bukan kesenjangan dari gaya bicaranya yang selangit itu dengan dirinya yang asli. Bukan pula sikap merendahkannya pada (nantinya) profesiku. Aku selalu tahu, latar belakang ekonominya tidak seberuntung aku.

Aku syok, bukan karena kebohongannya, tapi aku bertanya-tanya apa sajakah hal jujur yang keluar dari mulutnya selama 3 tahun itu?

Bila ia ternyata bohong tentang "pengalaman" menyetirnya adalah memasukkan mobil ke garasi ketika menurut google motor saja harus memakan badan jalan untuk singgah. Bohong kecil, bohong sederhana. Tapi ia sampaikan saat kami harus membawa mobil seorang temanku karena ia ingin mencoba membawanya. Yang berarti apabila ada suatu hal buruk terjadi, aku yang mesti bertanggung jawab atas namanya.

Apa cerita tentang almarhumah ibunya adalah kejujuran? Bagaimana dengan cerita tentang bapaknya yang juga bajingan? Apa dia pernah benar-benar menyayangiku? Atau aku hanya seorang sponsor hidupnya 3 tahun di tanah orang?

Sponsor dengan daya yang tidak sedikit; mengurasku uang, tenaga, dan kewarasan, yang juga nyaris merenggut nyawaku.

Sulit untuk aku memaafkan si bajingan itu. Sempat aku legowo beberapa waktu, hanya untuk sesekali teringat lalu kudapati mengumpat sendiri.

Suamiku tahu semua mengenai masa laluku, namun kurasa tidak akan ada seorangpun yang akan paham sedalam apa luka yang aku punya. Aku harap tidak ada seorangpun.

[toughpotatostuff]

duh jujur sebenernya gua udah ga tau ngapain masih pacaran sama orang ini while i dont feel emotionally fulfilled anymore dan each day feels like torture talking to him. gua ga ketemu org baru jg, i just feel my life is way much better when i am alone, no real life boys just ikemens giving smiles everyday

[toughpotatostuff]

katanya jumlah orang yang ngucapin kamu ulangtahun itu = jumlah orang yang care sama kamu. well, mungkin aku setuju. sempet mikir, mungkin aku yang skrg terlalu dislikable. tapi siapa yang peduli kalau selama ini aku jadi diriku sendiri ✌

[heretherebedork]

Utsukushii Kare is the exact opposite, but just as honest, teenaged experience as Kieta Hatsukoi is.

One is about friendship and love and softness and humor and supporting each other and being together and bringing joy and sharing humor and the feeling of learning about yourself but knowing that you are loved and supported.

And the other is about friendship and love and loneliness and anxiety and isolation and finding a purpose and hiding passion and bullying and depression and discovering a secret you will never share and holding yourself back because of others.

[borderlineblitz]

And hating every min of it xox

[anezkadragon]

bpd also means:

chronic feelings of emptiness

basically having no hobbies

not being able to find a passion

not experiencing happiness trough hobbies or people

but really wanting to do something fun and fulfilling

being tired, having depression

rushing into new hobbies and needing equipment immediately, spending a lot of money

but loosing interest quickly and easily

not pursuing hobbies due to no instant success

not being able to act on a hobby cause you’re highly agitated

feeling numb all day, even around loved ones and doing something actually fun

not really experiencing a situation, feeling like you are not actually there

[siickangel]

i feel too much or nothing at all // from my journal

[obaaewankenobi]

“YoUr TrAuMa MaDe YoU sTrOnGeR” uhhh no tf it didn’t. It gave me an incurable personality disorder with a 10% suicide rate

[love-notes-to-survivors]

Friendly reminder that this world was designed for neurotypicals and if you’re neurodiverse or mentally ill and you’re struggling, please be kinder to yourself because you’re doing your best in a world that wasn’t designed for you

[evelynshelby]

BPD is… “I’m quitting tumblr and giving up writing because everyone on here fucking hates me anyway and I don’t fit in no matter how hard I try”

BPD is… forming intense relationships/friendships and then out of nowhere pushing people away because you’re convinced they’re going to leave you anyway, and then you get hurt when they don’t fight for you thereby confirming your initial worry

BPD is… one minute telling yourself you don’t need anyone and you’re totally fine being alone and that you’ve got all your little lists and plans in your notebook of how you’re going to make your life amazing and never be down or suicidal or give a shit about what anyone thinks to three minutes later being back in that black hole before you could even feel yourself falling

BPD is… hating yourself for being so incredibly selfish sometimes and hating yourself even more for not being able to stop it

BPD is… suddenly spending everything in your bank because you just don’t give a shit anymore

BPD is… wanting to talk to people constantly about your feelings because you NEED someone to understand and you’re desperate for someone to take it away or remind you that you’re wanted and loved, but then in the same breath you’re terrified to ever ever tell anyone about it because you’re frightened it’ll just make them hate you/leave you

BPD is… a constant feeling of emptiness/boredom/unfulfillment

BPD is… people telling you that if you just take your pills or think positive or do your therapy or don’t talk about it/think about it that you’ll be fine. But you won’t. Because then all you do is try your hardest to hide it and just exhaust yourself even more.

BPD is… knowing that you’ve been like this most of your life and will be for the rest of it and it scares you.

BPD is… these things and so many more. It’s different for each sufferer in many ways and yet the same. 

BPD is… something still highly stigmatised even by many MH professionals and is portrayed in the media and on tv shows/movies often as people who are narcissistic  and toxic and quite frankly awful. 

Fellow BPDers I’m with you and sending you all massive love (not that any of you will believe my love really because that’s the nature of BPD right?) xx