Watching my clients having meltdowns are much different than me experiencing my own.

I’m not sure whatever society you are in, whether they permit or not… people have meltdowns all the time. And it’s OK. I find it quite revealing and liberating. Better in than out

For mine in an south east asian, Muslim family and community, who strive to be good and kind and definitely strong, always and all the time…

I bet some of us don’t even know how to melt. Unsure even if we are currently facing it. Probably slam a label and sweep them under a rug until we are ready to face them in our privacy, which means never. And the only time we actually face them was when we cannot hold it together, in public and in private.

And we erupted unlike the dormant volcanoes that we strive to be everyday, nonchalant to the drama surrounding us and when we thought this is it, the end, it never cease to vomit the streams of lava, destructing everything in its path.

Fear of public shaming us in social media and taunting our loved ones. Fearing being labeled mentally unstable (I prefer the term -imbalanced) and all that…fearing what our careers might be whacked by the sudden eruptions, fearing this, that and basically everything….

We coaxed to mute ourselves, our voices, our truths, our emotions, vowing not to be a drama Queen, we are addicted to, on the telly (unless we got paid for our own reality series).

Seriously I have no idea how my past gen did it. My grands, my parents… Did they pretend to be strong till their bodies succumbed to the imbalanced? No one talked about it. No one wants to. Unless they have to, vomited in public like a drunkard in the daylight. Nope, I didn’t witness any from my past gen (or maybe I pretend not to) .

Do I have the luxury to do the same? Nope. I’m a volatile volcano.

Doing my best to be the father and mother of my sons, are not easy. As much as i love to pretend to be the man and remain strong, and stoic, my hormones do not allow that.

Moon time monthly tests us, women. We are not robots. We cannot be. We’re made to withstand the changes within and without no matter how rampage disastrous they can be.

Heck, some of us give birth and have the ability to do more. We are created beautifully to handle all these. But do we have to do these, all the time? .

We cannot wait for mid life crisis, to suddenly throw a tantrum for decades of abusing and muting ourselves for the sake of the world who don’t truly matter. If we do, we are just killing ourselves. Suicide, slo-mo.

The liberation of social media as platforms to convey our truths to share what’s inspiring can also be used to whack another into submission and taunting them as means to wound others just because of envy, jealousy, and limitations we indulge in perceptions of the world we actually existed for.

If life has became tasteless for you…Apathic for you in your stoic world. Something must be wrong.

You are already dead. Inside out.

I hated triggering people. But sometimes, I feel its necessary. Rather than watching them living life soulless and dead. I rather trigger them so we each can ripple out “woke”.

I’m not perfect. I can be as broken, wounded or expanded, hated in all uglyliness can ever describe.

I’m still questioning myself everyday. Still having love-hate relationships with everything that loves me and hate and in between. Being wimpy, warrior and the line that defines it all.

Being dead, muted can be the easy way out. But who is going to handle the repercussions that is batting itself within?

We think 6 feet underground solves it all. But not. What if the challenges that escalated within transcends even when we are no longer united with body. What then?

Rage in itself is never fine when it hurts someone. But denying it. Hiding it. These are not solutions. More trouble. Emotions are never a problem. It’s a start of providing solutions.

I hated confrontations since as a child because I was not living in a safe environment. Anything and everything can blow up in my face. I can be a martyr even when I’m invisible and quiet. But being an adult, I cannot fake it. I just cannot. I rather it blow up now than when I’m gone. At least, it’s out and in the process of healing while I’m still alive.

Humans are definitely complicated. Heck, I’m one of them.