Hard Lesson: my dignity, my time, and my sanity

I feel as though I have neglected this blog amid the many problems I am currently facing. Part of me wants to embrace it again and share it with my friends so that it can come back to life. But considering that its contents may now be a little more ‘sensitive’ I have decided to let it remain simply as one of my private spaces for writing. That way, if I die someday, there will still be something here to remind you of me—all the rambling and yapping I have written.  

So much has happened, especially in the story of my life—this sorrowful journey of mine. At least now, I understand things more clearly and have begun to see everything that happened as a lesson in life. It has been an extraordinarily expensive lesson, one I paid for with my dignity, my time, and my sanity.  

And it is not over yet.  😖

One by one, I am trying to untangle the problems in my life. They may resemble a hopelessly tangled thread, but I am slowly trying to loosen each knot. As an INTJ, I often feel that everything must be resolved immediately, through all kinds of strategies and carefully constructed plans. Apparently, however, some things can only be worked through gradually.  

Alon-alon asal kelakon is getting real.  😐

Everything that has emerged in my life feels unbearably heavy. I would call this the second volume of the most difficult period of my life, because I experienced a similar mtbd (mental breakdown) when I was in my first year of high school. This feels like the greatest upheaval I have experienced since then. You could say it has gone up a level.  

I experienced things that no one should normally have to endure: a racing heart, cold feet, dizziness, and, most dangerously, the urge to hurt myself through self-harm or suicide. In that moment, I thought, I really need help. 

So, I went to see a psychologist.  

I do not know whether I am allowed to share this, whether it is supposed to remain confidential, or how any of that works. What I do know is that this is my experience. People have told me that going to a psychologist was the right step to take in order to help myself.  

Sometimes, when those feelings suddenly appeared and I wanted to ‘end’ everything, I did not know where to go or what to do. The pain had become so overwhelming that I wanted to redirect it into physical pain rather than continue enduring the pain within my soul.  

And so, I went to a psychologist. I told her what I had been experiencing, asked how I could cope with it, and tried to understand why it was happening. Another reason I sought professional help was that I could no longer break down and make sense of my own problems. What is this? Please help me understand. 

These were some of the things she said to me:  

1. “You are actually already capable of mapping out your own problems. It seems that what you truly need is simply someone to talk to.”  
2. “Coming here was the right decision. It is a form of helping yourself. You have done something remarkable.”  
3. “From everything you have told me, you have done the very best you could. Anything beyond that is no longer your responsibility. Unfortunately, your efforts were not reciprocated. You were moving forward alone, and we both know how exhausting that can be.”  
4. “Your decision was not wrong. If you had continued, it would have drained all your energy, and you would have spent it on matters that were never truly your responsibility.”  
5. “Just this once, try to think about what you want, what you feel, and what truly matters to you. Do not focus too much on your husband’s point of view, your parents’ point of view, or anyone else’s, because you are the one living through this. You keep trying to understand them, but it seems that you are the only one making that effort.”  
6. “Try to walk alongside your grief and sadness. Embrace them. It may not be easy, but you have already tried, and you are still willing to keep trying. That in itself is remarkable. Do not allow yourself to remain trapped in your sadness forever. You will begin to heal when you learn how to walk alongside those feelings.”  
7. “This will not simply disappear, nor will your emotional wounds heal immediately. They may continue to resurface throughout your life as part of who you are. What matters is how you eventually turn them into lessons and allow them to become part of your growth.”  
8. “The process is different for everyone. For some people, it happens quickly; for others, it takes much longer. It depends on the individual. But you must believe that you are capable of getting through it.”  
9. “Forget and release the what ifs, the hopes you once cherished for your marriage. Understand that those hopes will not become reality, so that you do not remain trapped in thoughts of What if this happened? What if that happened? Those thoughts will only destroy you. Let them go and make peace with them. You are worthy. You can recover, and you can begin again.”  
10. “Stop blaming yourself. You are still wondering whether things might have been different if you had been more accepting, more willing to endure being treated badly, or more willing to compromise yourself. What is done is done.”  

Then she mentioned something that existed only in the quietest corner of my heart, something no one else knew. Only I, God, and my tiny silit knew about it.  

Her words struck somewhere deep within me. How did she know? Is she some kind of fortune-teller?  

Yep.  

My emotions have changed now. What began as anger, sadness, and disappointment has gradually transformed into sadness and acceptance. I am trying to accept that everything in this world has consequences.  

I may once have said that I never wanted to marry someone who was this or that, but some things happened beyond my control. Now, I want to take that control back. Control over my own life in this world.  

At the peak of my mtbd, I kept wondering how someone who had married me, slept with me, and promised to build a life with me could do such a thing. Why was he like this? Why did he behave that way? Why did I, someone who had restrained myself and tried so hard to remain ‘pure’ have to be violated by a person like him?  

I felt worthless and filthy.  

At one point, I even wondered, Which of my sins is this punishment for, God? I was devastated beyond words. I felt as though everything had been destroyed.  

All of that happened before I became aware again that my life and happiness in this world do not depend on one person. Life continues—and I am still alive. At the very least, for whatever remains of my life, I can continue doing good and gradually find my way back to myself.  

 

You may be wondering, “How could you have married him?”  

Well, there are things I cannot tell you here. What has happened has happened. What matters is that there are still people who care about me, and there is still God, who loves me.  

Other people are free to judge my life, but their judgment will not determine the decisions I make about how I choose to live it.  

As I said, this has been the most expensive lesson of my life. I paid for it with my dignity, my time, and my sanity. 

**tulisan ini dibuat ditengah-tengah jaga TPT dan memutuskan untuk mengupload nya karena, why not? 

 

 

 

 

Some Things Just Don’t Feel Right

Sometimes, I still find myself wondering whether I have failed to accept my destiny.  

Was I supposed to surrender to being treated however my husband pleased, remain obedient despite the many ways our marriage conflicted with the life I believed in, and accept it all with grace?  

If my ultimate orientation is God, Allah SWT, and if drawing closer to Him is the purpose of my life, does that mean obedience to my husband must become my path toward God? Some women hold firmly to this belief. Yet, as an ordinary person trying to live honestly according to my conscience, I find that understanding profoundly at odds with my convictions.  

To me, it sounds less like devotion and more like manipulation. It seems like a distorted interpretation promoted by husbands or men who wish to maintain authority over a woman’s body, mind, and direction in life.  

I do not believe that the pursuit of God and His paradise can only be achieved through marriage or obedience to a husband. There are countless ways to draw closer to God: through compassion, integrity, service, generosity, and every sincere act of goodness. Surely, the path to God should not require a woman to surrender her freedom, dignity, and happiness.  

Still, I sometimes question myself. Am I not surrendering enough to God? Have I failed to accept the destiny He has written for me?  

Perhaps the truth is simply that this interpretation of faith does not resonate with me. It feels suffocating and restrictive. More than that, it feels hypocritical when such obedience is demanded by a husband who does not fulfil his own responsibilities.  

That is why I chose to end this marriage.  

I do not want to continue living beneath layers of dishonesty, distorted beliefs, and expectations he placed upon me. I am naturally nurturing and affectionate. Caring for others has always come easily to me. But being loving does not mean allowing someone to treat me carelessly. When my kindness is met with entitlement and disregard, remaining silent would contradict the very principles by which I live.  

During our courtship, he presented everything as good, beautiful, and reassuring. Yet the reality of our marriage revealed something very different. Deep within himself, he seemed to carry a persistent sense of inadequacy, perhaps because his income and educational background were lower than mine.  

He repeatedly spoke about how I should stay at home, even though my career was one of the things I had clearly addressed from the beginning.  

I told him that I was a working woman. This was my profession and an important part of my life. I asked him plainly whether he could accept that and whether we could build a marriage that accommodated both of our realities.  

Yet, in his mind, my employment meant that I was also responsible for “helping” to support the household financially. The irony is that I would have contributed willingly, even without being asked. That was never the issue. What troubled me was the way he framed it, as though my contribution were an obligation he was entitled to demand rather than an act of partnership I would have offered freely.  

What disturbed me even more was his belief that my profession was haram.  

Had I known from the beginning that he held such a view, I would have recognised it immediately as a major red flag. I would have walked away and never allowed the relationship to progress toward marriage.  

Is that not hypocrisy?  

How could he condemn my work while simultaneously expecting to benefit from the income it provided? How could the source be considered morally unacceptable, while the money it produced remained convenient enough to enjoy?  

He constantly complained about one thing or another, most often about how little he earned. And I could never quite understand what he expected from me. If he already believed that his income was insufficient, why did he choose to marry me while also carrying the financial responsibility of supporting his sister?  

Did he expect me, and perhaps my family, to eventually support him?  

That question continues to trouble me. There is something deeply unsettling about condemning a woman’s independence while quietly relying on the security that her independence provides.  

Perhaps what I am struggling to accept is not destiny itself, but the expectation that I should call injustice “destiny” simply because it occurred within a marriage. Perhaps surrendering to God does not mean surrendering my judgment, dignity, or right to protect myself. Perhaps leaving a life built upon contradictions is not an act of rebellion against God, but an act of honesty toward the life and conscience He has given me.  

I do not believe that choosing myself means abandoning my faith. Nor do I believe that ending this marriage means I have failed to accept God’s will. Sometimes, acceptance is not about remaining where we have been wounded. Sometimes, it is about acknowledging the truth of what happened, grieving what could not be saved, and finding the courage to walk toward a life in which we no longer have to betray ourselves merely to prove our devotion.  

And perhaps that is what I am doing now.  

I am not rejecting destiny. I am refusing to let someone else use the language of destiny to determine the limits of my life. 

**tulisan ini dibuat dengan keadaan sadar setelah pemikiran panjang 

Is This The End

Even though my psychologist has told me to accept everything—my sadness and my anger—I’m still (a little) uneasy about where I am right now. It feels like I want to wrap everything up as soon as possible and be free of him. But of course, that’s not easy administratively and in terms of SOP. As an employee who works under regulations, I can’t just casually file for divorce whenever I feel like it, because, well, my job. There are steps I have to take to reach that point.

If he refuses to pronounce talak—which is a stupid reason, considering he was the one who offered it to me first—then I’ll file a lawsuit. But to file a lawsuit, I have to be patient and gather the basic evidence that will serve as the foundation for my request to be accepted, not only by Pengadilan Agama but also by the institution where I work. Yes, to submit my request to Pengadilan Agama, I have to complete the required documents first, one of which is an official permission letter from my institution. Unless he’s the one who files (talak), which would make it easier for me to be freed from this unpleasant status as soon as possible. Bye mutherfucker, something like that.

I know this will take a long time. Starting from reaching the evidence/reasons for me to file for separation, then I have to apply for the permission letter. I’ll probably need about nine months. It’s truly a waste of precious time. No wonder I feel so pressured. It’s like—I’m already so sick of carrying the status of “wife” when I’m not even given a chance to play that role properly. Not loved, not cared for, not sought after, not even provided for. So what’s the point of this marriage? He seems perfectly comfortable giving someone the silent treatment for days. I’ve concluded he really is paok.

When I think about it again, I feel so deeply wronged by my position right now. If he doesn’t want to, feels awkward, or is trapped by his own ego, then at the very least, let me go. Return me to my parents. Tell my father that you can’t “guide” me anymore. Say that you don’t love me. Say that you’d rather choose your sister over your wife. Say it! I hope he’ll talak me soon. With a clear talak. I refuse to stay stuck in this status for long. I’d rather go back to my family, to my mom and dad, than be tied up and trapped in a marriage with him—trapped in a shallow well with an elephant.

That’s why I would feel so relieved if he suddenly contacted me or just threw a lawsuit straight to the Religious Court. In my opinion, there’s nothing left to hold on to. From the beginning, he never gave me anything anyway. Just a man who married me for his own interests. I’ve tried every option to fix our communication, to find a way out. But if the “way out” he wants is for me to obey like a donkey in front of him, then please—go find another woman who’s willing to be ordered to bow without any self-respect.

Like I told him the last time we met (16/03/2026), “...I forgive you, Mas, but I can’t continue all of this with you anymore. I hope you find someone who can accept you and your sister the way you want.” That was my closing statement.

If he still thinks everything is fine and that I’m just mad for the moment, YOU’RE REALLY THAT FUCKING STUPID. Use your head and think.

Once again, yes, this is a hard season for me, and I will go through it sincerely, just as sincerely as I accepted myself marrying him. I’ll fill my days with things that are useful. Because happiness is determined by ourselves, not by other people. If my husband can’t love me properly—the way a husband reasonably should—then I will love myself more than any man in this world. SELF LOVE AJIGILE.

your problemo

I don’t know what my sister did in her past life, but it seems like her fate with friendships is really unfortunate. Every friendship story she tell me sounds toxic and overly dramatic. Whenever I advise her to avoid things like that, strangely, she always reply, “But it’s exciting.” I think there’s something wrong with her way of thinking.

The way she seek friends is entirely different from mine. I would never make promises to someone I’ve just met; in short, I’m always skeptical about people and try not to expect much. So, if the relationship doesn’t turn out the way I hoped, I won’t feel disappointed.

Facu, on the other hand, easily becomes close or makes commitments with strangers. I call them strangers because they’ve only talked for two days. I wouldn’t laugh easily or make content with strangers, but she can. I wouldn’t accept someone’s invitation to eat together just because we’ve met for a few days. To me, eating is something very personal, and it’s a way to observe someone’s character. I don’t want to be judged so casually by a stranger. What’s even more bizarre is that they would go on a mountain hike with some random kid. Personally, I’ve avoided befriending naive kids like that ever since someone stole my candy during my lessons class.

In short, Facu’s friendships are a mess. She hang out with toxic people, guys with a weak mentality, actual pussy, and team up with ampas tai. Listening to her stories makes me dizzy. Why are you like this? Why are you always caught up in conflicts or, at the very least, have your name dragged into them in a bad way?

What are you trying to prove by provoking people with this behavior? It’s obvious that the people in your circle aren’t living meaningful lives. Look at people who actually have a life—they’ve moved on and created their own stories. Meanwhile, the ones clinging to that place are just looking for any opportunity to stir up drama, and that includes you.

I no longer see that place as my old workplace—maybe just a memory. Even the people there, when I meet them outside, I consider strangers. I don’t want to get involved with them anymore or have any contact except for work-related matters. Since I realized I wasn’t important to them, I’ve decided to think the same way. That place is nothing more than an old place that holds some memories and marks a chapter in my career. Nothing more, nothing less.

Unlike me, who avoids conflict and keeps away from irrelevant matters, Facu often gets tangled up in other people’s stories. It’s better to be a spectator than to be the subject of gossip. Seriously, how long are you going to let your name be passed around in their filthy mouths? Disgusting.

day- 277 "Hey Tua Bangka!"

I would say that the departure of my former boss (to another office) taught us a valuable lesson. Appreciate what you have because you never know when that blessing will be taken away by God.

My new boss is an older man, nearing retirement age. He recently recovered from a stroke and insists on working, even though he's no longer fit for the job. Before he arrived, we were warned about his condition, so we were forced to be patient and accept it.

When we first met him, we all felt sorry for him. Sorry because of many things—he’s old but still working, recovering from a stroke, and, well, he's old. But over time, we understood why this old man (we started calling him "TB," short for "Tua Bangka," meaning old geezer) doesn’t deserve any respect at all.

TB has an inflated sense of his ability to work, but the reality is not on his side. He struggles just to walk straight. There are many shortcomings in TB that make him someone to avoid—let me list them: he can't drive himself, he's stingy, perverted, clueless, delusional, forgetful, petty, stupid, smelly, and dresses like someone who's lost it.

We all know something's off with him—his sanity. But TB is completely oblivious and acts as if he can still work and earn a salary that doesn't match his contributions, which is nothing.

At first, everyone sympathized with him, seeing him like their father or grandfather, thinking, "How could you be so harsh to an old man?" Who cares! If it were my own family, I might still be understanding, but for someone else? A stingy, petty old geezer like him? Big no. Now, everyone is starting to agree that TB belongs on the list of cursed people.

Strangely, despite his miserable condition, none of TB’s family comes to visit or take care of him. He’s all alone here, living in a rented house—whether he even pays for it, I don’t know. But one thing is clear: no one wants to deal with TB anymore because he’s so stingy.

What’s more disgusting is that, despite his age, TB still has a certain "need." His desire for worldly pleasures and sexual urges is still there, and he satisfies it by watching explicit films on the office computer. Isn’t that just absurd? Eventually, since he couldn't be reasoned with, my big boss decided to replace his computer with a laptop that doesn’t connect to the office internet. It’s like giving a kid a toy for entertainment.

Don’t ask, “So, how does he work?”

Of course, he doesn’t. He can't work. We handle all his job logins. If there’s a letter that needs to be sent, we send it ourselves. Honestly, we’re like sheep without a shepherd.

I have zero respect left for TB. I don’t care about anything he does. If he makes small talk and stands around in the back office for hours, disrupting others, I just ignore him. TB often even calls people by the wrong name. Some people still care, but I, quite bluntly, don’t.

Right now, we’re in the process of sending TB to the hospital. Whether he likes it or not, TB needs to get a medical certificate and submit it to HR. That needs to be processed so that HQ knows one of its employees is no longer fit for work. The problem is, we’re a service office, with our main focus being stakeholder service. It’s impossible for us to stick with a boss who’s already incapacitated.

At the very least, if you can’t do the job, have some self-awareness. Your body and mind are not capable of leading, but he refuses to step down. So what now? You want to collect a paycheck for doing nothing for years?

To me, TB isn’t my boss; he’s just an old man hanging around the office. Whether he’s here or not, the world stays the same.

Bye~