Personality Disorder — December 29, 2016

Personality Disorder

So, I just got out of a relationship, if you can call it a relationship. I remembered when I read New Moon, Twilight Series, Bella felt that there was a hole in her chest when Edward dumped her. One of my friend also told me this when she was getting nowhere with her now-husband, years ago. At the moment I thought they were exagerating, hyperbolic. Now, I don’t judge them anymore, haha. It indeed felt so hurt, like physical pain. I find myself sleeping in fetal position all the time. I can’t sleep if I don’t have something to hold on to my chest.

Anyway, I don’t wanna dwell on this failed relationship anymore. If it’s meant to be, then we’ll find each other in the forseeable future. If it’s not, then there will be another better guy who’ll love me more than he did. But I always believe that something happened for a reason. Or reasons. And one of the thing I found is that I might have some personality disorders.

I acted like a crazy person around him. He’s not actually around, he’s halfway across the world, but you get the gist, right? He somehow awakened my deep-burried personality. I was dealing with a lot of issues growing up. And my coping mechanism is to surpress my feelings, ignore it, it doesn’t matter how I felt, there were a lot of problems to deal with than taking care of my feelings. I surpressed it to the point I become a cold and distant person. I don’t get attached to my family or friends. I did get attached to my mom, though. Anyway, he triggered emotions in me. Lots of emotions. I was overwhelmed with emotions. I cried a lot, either because I was happy, or sad. I’m not emotional, but maybe I was in my early childhood. I usually don’t easily trust a person and let them make me feel, well, anything. But I was getting suggestion from articles, friends, psychologist to try trusting a person. Try to see that there’s no motive behind a kind gesture but kindness. So I tried. He seems harmless. He’s a taplok anyway. He contacted me even after PROKM, so I thought I could trust him.

The problem is, I might have Histrionic Personality Disorder and Codependency. I’m not a trained psychologist though, I drew this conclusion based on internet research. So, I probably drew a wrong conclusion by chance. However, it will explain a lot of things.

An histrionic person likes to draw attention to themselves. I don’t. I really don’t like to draw attention, but I don’t mind it if everyone give it to me, really. I was a center of universe to my family back then. And being with him, I felt like I was that kid again. I love and seek attention from him to the point I become so clingy. I couldn’t believe my self for doing that. Sometimes I found my self asking, why did you do this, why did you do that, but his attention distracted me, and made me happy, and I didn’t question it anymore. And now he’s tired, haha.

Histrionic person is also dramatic and emotional. I’m usually reliable to become a judge, to be objective seeing a situation. But with him, I wasn’t thinking straight. I was so dumb. I looked dumb, although I know in my heart I’m a smart, smart girl. I questioned everything, become dramatic, emotional, and he would calm me down, gave me the attention I longed for. It felt good, it felt so good that I’m addicted to it so I did it again and again. It also distracted me from some red flags along the way. All I wanted is attention and I know he can’t ignore me, no matter how mad he is.

Another issue is codependency. I don’t know if these two problems can coexist. Again, I’m not a psychologist, these two problems look like they contradict each other. But this was my first diagnosis before histrionic, and it fit. He often treated me like crap. He was very rude, and loved making me jealous. As a histrionic, I can’t handle divided attention. But, I have codependency issue, boundary issue. Codependent person like to take the blame on themselves. They would say it’s my fault, although it’s actually not. And it makes sense, because I was raised that way. If there were something wrong, my family would say, “You could’ve done this. You could’ve done that,” although it was clearly not my responsibility. He did the same. But I think this is his defense mechanism of low self esteem. I also have low self esteem, and as a codependent person, I hate seeing that in others. I can’t stand of someone being hurt. I’d love nothing than try to make this person to feel good again. But this way, I was ignoring my own feelings, my own needs. I failed to recognize that I was hurting too, that I was not okay of being treated that way. But my will to help is bigger than the need to express my feelings. And he took advantage of it. Well, we all love a little comforting, especially from the one who say they love us, don’t we?

I don’t have all the symptoms of Histrionic nor Codependency, but it’s enough to make me aware of my confusion behaviours lately. And in psychology, you don’t need to have all the symptoms to have some disorder, or complex anyway. On my research, I found that these two issues can only be treated using psychotherapy. Which I can’t afford. I guess I just have to suck it up, acknowledge it, and learned how to control it. Especially when some great guy come in my way. (fingercrossed)

— August 24, 2015
Amak — June 17, 2015


I call my mom Amak. It means mom in my ethnic language. She died at June 15th, 2000. I was 8 years old. At the time, I did not understand why my sisters, my aunt, my uncle and even my dad, who you wouldn’t believe it if you knew him well, cried. I have to admit, I didn’t grasp the concept of death back then, what was the implications. I was only a kid. I did too cry, but I cried mostly because the others cried, not because my mom just died. Yeah, I was an idiot like that.

I am the youngest child of my family. Although, I have a half sister and a step brother who are much younger than me, I always consider my self as the youngest of MY family. I have 5 other siblings, 4 sisters and a brother. The two oldest, both sisters, had been married before June 15th 2000. The 3rd oldest, still a sister, married about two years after. The 4th one is a brother, had not married until I was in high school. The 5th one, my youngest sister married when I was in Junior High.

You’re probably wondering why did they all marry so soon. Well, it was not so soon in my village. They were all married in their twenties. My oldest sister is 18 years older than me and my youngest sister is 9 years older than me. So I am the youngest and a bit distant. I was a little spoiled, I have to say, before the event of June 15th 2000. They were all excited  to have and interested in me, for I was an unexpected and unplanned member of family. And not just by the main members of family, my aunts and uncles, cousins, liked me as well, treated me like I was a princess. I was loved and I too loved them and all their attention. And I felt my dad, who I call Apak, favored me than all of my sisters and brother (because I was the most obedient child, I guess). I was so happy.

Not so long after June 15th 2000, Apak married another woman. My aunt said that he wouldn’t do that if my older sister (I won’t say which) took cares of Apak the way Amak did. But I have to say, it was one of her weaknesses. My sister’s, I mean. On her early marriage, she also didn’t take care of her husband as well as she does now. But, for whatever reason, Apak left us. In my culture, it is the women that have claim to family’s property such as the house. So, if my dad were married to anyone else than my mom, he had to left the property. And he did.

I had hard times after June 15th 2000. At first, I was sick for almost two months. I was not sure why I was sick or what was my sickness. I just didn’t want to eat. I vomited and nauseated all the time. I became so thin and my hair started to fall. I don’t even remember what made me healthy after that. All I know, after Amak died, I became sick at the end of every semester until I was at junior high. But I was grateful because so much people cared about me, even though my mom was already gone. Even the woman who would become my father’s wife, was involuntarily happy to take care of me. I knew soon enough that it was all fake. It was just her charade. I felt betrayed. But not just for her, I was angry for all other people, because once I was healthy, all the attention gone.

It start with Apak’s departure. It seemed like no one cares about me anymore. Not really. They cared about my well being, but they couldn’t do it every day, every hour, like Amak and Apak did. They showed they cared once in a while, especially if I were sick, and then they went back to their lives. Even my sisters. It became worse after they’re all married and have children. Their children is their center of the universe now, not me anymore. I felt being left alone. I know why they were the way they were, I know they couldn’t help it, even I love their children, but it’s surprise me how fast a changing could be. At first, I was the center of their universe. Then, in the blink of an eye, I was nothing at all. They didn’t even ask if I missed Amak or not. Of course I missed her very much, but I couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to be an attention beggar. I always put a brave face in front of all of them. I didn’t want to admit how sad or lonely I was. I also didn’t want them to be sad because I was sad. But, unfortunately for me, my brave-face mask just ended up eating me inside.

Apak didn’t help either. People said his wife had some kind of “magic” spells on him that he didn’t visit us at home after being married. They said, she didn’t want Apak to visit me and my siblings. They said, she didn’t like me very much and she wanted Apak all for herself. For whatever reason, I had not met Apak for about 2-3 following years. And after she “permit” him to visit at my home, I couldn’t find my Apak who loved me and my Amak very much. There was a new thing about him.

I had a little consolation, though. It was my uncle. He loved me much as he loved his child, although he had none. I noticed, the death of Amak didn’t waver his love to me. Unfortunately, he died just two years after my mom. He was a very sickly man. Like my Amak. His death just make it worse. At least I still had him after Amak’s death. But God had no mercy on me.

School also help to make it even worse. Amak had always prepared me for school or pesantren (some kind of religious camp), but I had to did it myself afterward. The sad things were, I couldn’t cook and wake up early to have a hot and fresh lunch like my friends had. My lunch were always a cold leftover dinner and my sisters wouldn’t help me. I didn’t even ask them to make my lunch. I just want they did it because they want to do it. And sometimes, in pesantren, parents were expected to bring things the students need. Like some kind of dessert for dinner or a blanket for sleeping. I tried to ask my sisters to do it for me, because I couldn’t bring all of my needs all at once. But I didn’t expect much. They always give me any solutions to get their way out. “Why not these, why not that?” Well, if I could sweet sister, I wouldn’t have asked you at all. To this day, I still remember how I got laughed at once by students from another school because I had been carrying all of my stuff for all day that supposed to be delivered by parents at night. The thought of the rejection of my sisters and that everyone knew about it almost made me cried in front of all of them. I was already crying on the way to the pesantren, but everyone knowing about how pathetic, helpless and lonely I was, made it worse. My eyes were already blurry as I tried to get in line but I forced back my tears. I wouldn’t show them my weakness.

My sisters also avoided to pick up my report card at the end of semester if it was not necessary. So did Apak. Most of parents or families are willingly without needing to ask to come to school if they kids, they siblings, were rank 1st in their class. But not my sisters. Nor my father (although, he did thaw a little bit when I was at high school). I had always begged my teacher to give me mine. And I had always been so furious and sad looking at my friends went home happily with their families even they grade were only a little above average and I went home alone with the highest grade in school. If the highest grade didn’t even able to make them to pick up my report card, then what could?

Of course no one knew about this. I couldn’t tell anyone. How could I? I channeled my rage through tears. I cried a lot. But I couldn’t cry easily in front of anybody. I still can’t. I don’t like being a burden, so usually I cry silently at night in my room. Alone. But I hated it when I couldn’t do anything to change it. I don’t like being a nobody, I don’t like being not loved. Still, I couldn’t tell anyone because I don’t want them to love me because they pitied me. I want they love me because they want to love me. I want they care about me because they want to. But my situation didn’t change for a long time despite of whatever I tried. Or hoped. I usually ask a lot of questions to God whilst I cried. Why did this happen to me? Why me, why not anyone else? I’m not that strong. Can’t you see me how weak I am now? What did I do so wrong? I haven’t done anything. Why did You take my mother from me? Do You hate me? Why do You hate me so much? Or did my mom not love me so she strong enough to leave me?  Why do I have to be born, I didn’t ask for it. My parents didn’t even plan me. Why don’t You just take my life now, so I can be with my mom. If it weren’t for Amak’s death, none of this would have happened.

All that questions and statements, especially the last one, haunt me until now. I have to know all the answers but God gives me none. I tried, I think, to find one but I have no luck in that either. I can’t handle not knowing. I have to know. I hate people saying sarcastically “How many answers do you get in life?” You have to get every one of them.

Because my stubbornness, I end up blaming someone. Sometimes God, sometimes my self and sometimes my poor Amak. But I think, I mostly blame God for He is the one who takes away my mom and not providing the reasons behind it. I blamed my Amak because I can’t imagine how dare she left me. I realized I was angry at Apak and my sisters too, but Amak’s death was the root of all of it. How could she leave me? I remembered that she loved me, but not as much as Apak or my uncle did. Everyone knows Amak’s favorite was my brother and not me. The thought of that usually make me blame my self. I think, I might be the reasons why Amak died. It is illogical, but still probable. I feel insecure that maybe Amak hated me. That she didn’t want another kid. I couldn’t prove it, of course, but the thought of it still able to make me blame my self and want to escape from this world. And I’m not good at forgiving, whether it was God’s fault, Amak’s or mine.

I found this website while trying to find how to let go my past. There are 4 elements of forgiveness: express the emotion, understand why, rebuild safety and let go. I have to go through the first three elements in random orders to finally able to do the fourth, letting go. But that’s the problem. I can’t express my emotion; I tried and tried to understand why, but after 15 years I still haven’t found the answers yet; I am certainly sure that this thing can occur again, not to my mom of course, my uncle was the proof of it. And absolutely it’s hard to let go. I am a forgiving type, most of the time. But I never forget. Especially this kind of experience. How could I forget.

Anyway, I write this down to try to express my emotion. I want to let go, I really do. But as that article says, I need to understand why.

Confession — June 7, 2015


I’ve been thinking about my crush at high school. Probably because a friend made me talk about him, like two weeks ago. Or probably there’s another reason, like I posted something about him on 9gag and a stranger comment really got to my head. For whatever reason, I feel like I’m back to my 14 yo self who like this one guy so much.

It has been 9 years since I heard that cool sarcasm poem he made for a senior girl and forced to read it in front of the whole new freshmen. It was supposed to be a love letter, every one of us had to make one for an opponent-sex senior, but he made a poem full of insult to this one very-annoying senior. She was furious. She pushed him around to read that poem to every 7 groups of freshmen. We all laughed so hard. I laughed so hard. And I was amazed. Not only because he had the gut to write that kind of language to a senior whom was very grumpy, but also because the poem he wrote was so good. It was hard to impress me by anything, it still is, but I have to admit I was impressed. Very impressed. Especially for a boy. Especially for a boy his age. Perhaps that was the moment I got hooked.

You’re probably wondering what happened next, why did I title this post “confession”. To answer that: no, we were not dating. I wish, haha. To this day I never know how was his feeling for me. That’s perhaps the reason I’m not quiet over this yet, I have a problem with closure. Even if there was an affection for me, I probably drove him away because of my attitude. I thought I got this clue that he was into me, but I did something really stupid every time we were alone. Like this one time, when we and other couples of friends were going to study at my house, and he arrived first, and I got so nervous and out of control so I went to my neighbor/friend’s house to pick her up and back to my house so I and him wouldn’t be alone. I think he thought I was stupid or weird or something. And this other time, I said something rude that he would definitely hate me for that. And I regret everything I had done in front of him to this day.

One thing you have to know about me is that I am a private person. I’m not that wallflower kind of girl, I have many friends. It’s just I don’t explain my self when I am not asked. Even if I’m asked, I only answer a few people I trust. And in that first year of high school, only two person know about this. My best friends. Another thing you have to know is that I find it hard to display my affection to anyone. I don’t confess my feelings easily. Even to my friends and families. And look where it got me: writing about things I should’ve done 9 years ago.

Because I am so reserved, I got this “thing” build up inside me. I don’t know if I still like him, but he never entirely disappear from my head. And I think the reason is because I want to tell him (but my ego says no) and I’m wondering if he like(d) me too. When my head and my heart argue about something, I usually let my head win. You know, because it makes sense. But again, that “thing”, it never stop bothering me. So I find this problem a solution. Not a very good solution, but I think I can let go after I do it. Since this is a private blog, I’d like to confess my feelings in here. My alias in this blog is not entirely a fake name, some of my friends knew, but not all of them. They mostly don’t know about this blog and I couldn’t find reason they’d search for it, so I’ll confess here. The worlds are able to know but you wouldn’t know who am I. My friends would know either, if they knew my alias and his alias. But they don’t necessarily find this blog.

So here it is:

Dear Parabek,

I know it doesn’t matter anymore but I’d like you to know that I liked you so much. You probably had no intention to attend that high school, but it doesn’t lessen my gratitude for a chance to get to know you. You’re very great guy. I’ve met many guys since, but none of them are like you. You are unique, as far as I know. That’s probably why I liked you.

I’d like to apologize about what I’ve said or done which possibly made you upset. It was the first time I like a boy that much that I couldn’t handle my self. I was out of control and it all came out wrong.

I’d like to do this in person, but I’m a huge coward. I’m sorry. I can’t stand of thinking that you’ll think I’m such a weirdo (which probably you’re already have). I have to admit, I do this for my self. So I can let go. Not wondering anymore.

I wish that you’ll find this, but I also wish you won’t.
Thanks for reading, or not reading. 🙂

Sincerely yours,

Naichi Potter

Time does not heal —

Time does not heal

Everyone must have been upset once in a lifetime. Upset. Hurt. Brokenhearted. Grief. And then, someone close to you will ask what happened and you tell them. If there was nothing they can do (or anyone else) about your situation, they’re going to say that, “It’ll be okay, you just need some time. After all, time heals all wounds.” My advice for you, don’t believe any word on that last sentence, it’s big fat lie.

Time has nothing to do with healing your wound(s). For me, time is like painkillers. At first, you only use small dosage. As time flies, you increases your dosages. You become numb, but doesn’t mean the pain is gone. As you go through your routine, you realize you doesn’t need painkillers anymore. There are so much things that can distract you. But, there’s always thing(s) which can bring up again your attention to your pain. This trigger(s) works every time. The pain you’re feeling is not as wounded as the first time you acknowledge it. It’s not as bad, but it’s there.

My point is, it’s wrong if you’re hoping the pain will gone. It won’t be gone. It’s there, leaving a scar. Maybe it’ll be easier, maybe not. But it won’t be unnoticed.

Theodore Taptiklis — June 10, 2014

Theodore Taptiklis

I guess you might be saying “Who the hell is Theodore Taptiklis?”, right? Haha. Yeah, well, he’s one of many hollywood hotties. He’s well known by his stage name, but I don’t wanna write it here, because I don’t want this article to go around. From now on I’ll refer him as Theo.

Theo is the second man that can, literally, take my breath away. Did I meet him? No, of course not! We’re at different side of earth, don’t be silly (well, maybe I should tell that my self, haha). No, we haven’t met (yet :p). But yeah, he did take my breath away, haha. This was happened when I watched one of his movie at a cinema. It was scene when he appeared the first time on that movie. His face covered most of the screen and he looked at camera so intensely. Well, I know he looked at the camera, but with his big face on screen and I watched him on darkness like I were alone and with that intimidating looking of him, I couldn’t help feeling that he gave ME that look. I couldn’t help feeling he looked at ME. Then, I forgot breathing.

I know that was silly, haha, but I couldn’t help it! God, I wish I could.

Theo is not the kind of actor that many girls (or women – I never consider me as a woman) as a cutie. He’s not cute, but he is hot and very very good looking. Although, most girls usually won’t consider Theo as the hottest or the most handsome. But I do :D. And I’m wondering why.

As I wrote before, Theo is the second man that can, literally, take my breath away. Then who was the first? The first one was my crush at high school. I never really found what made me like him either, and I was still wondering. Then, when Theo took my breath away for the first time, I started to compare him with my crush. I found my self surprise as I realized that they both have a pair of deep-set eyes, although Theo’s are deeper, their eyes color also similar, but my crush’s are darker. They both have big long nose, thick lip, square strong jaw, big Adam’s Apple, large forehead, sturdy figures, perfect teeth and tanned skin. I dropped my jaw when I compared their photographs. I know they don’t look alike but their features are so similar. And Theo’s features are so perfect to me that they can affect me, even from the screen.

Before I watch this movie of Theo, I never realized what is my type of men. I was always questioning why do I never really move on from my crush. But, after that movie, I realize Theo is the perfect version of my kind of men. Physically. He’s not photogenic (neither my crush), but he’s really intimidating in real life (or video at least :p)

… But, unfort… — February 26, 2014
Marriage — February 10, 2014


Yeah, marriage. Can you Imagine I write about this topic? I don’t even graduate yet, and I’m already talking about it now. I’m just like, “Wow, Nai! I’m really… speechless.”

I’ve been thinking about this “marriage” lately. Maybe because how much wedding invitation I got on Facebook. But why now? I absolutely got an invitation before. Yeah, that’s true, but the different thing this time is this invitation come from my coeval friends. Some of it was from senior of course, but they’re not more than five years than me.

Well, marriage for me is a very very big step in life. I just can’t understand why one person decide to spend his/her entire life with just one other person, who was stranger. Okay, they are not stranger anymore, but, again, how can you be so sure? After, what, like 5 or 7 years, in average, since you first met. For special cases, there are couples who were childhood friends (or know each other more than 10 years before marriage) and there are couples who were college or coworkers or even complete stranger who know each other for less than 5 years. And there are even less than 2 years. Less than a year! I can understand childhood couple’s cases but the next one? The stranger couples? I don’t think so.

When I began questioning, usually for the second case couples, I got answers like, “When it’s right, it’s right!” or “I just know that s/he is the one” or “We’re in love” or “We know that we were made for each other”. And I’m like “What?”. I mean, that’s the most obscure thing I’ve ever heard. It’s so sentimental. And what make you so sure that s/he is the right one? You just know each other for less than five years! And there’s no rational evident to proof your reason. And when you realize that s/he is not the one, then what? Divorce? It’s okay when you don’t have kids. But when you do? Is that so easy for people to marry and divorce and marry and divorce again?

I’m an agreeable person. I mean I’m not complaining so much. I live in poor country and my family is an below average income family. We even can’t afford my college tuition. I pay my tuition with scholarship money. You can imagine how not glamorous my life style is. I usually look at something for what it can be used. I cross check my needs and my fund, and I’m not complaining. If I can’t afford something, then I’ll find other thing that can replace it. Or make it my self, if I can. But for something that I can achieve, for what I’m sure I have a chance, I put very high standard on my self. Like when I decided where college to go, I chose the best college for science, art and technology in this country. And I got in. And the same goes to husband.

I don’t have divorce issue in my family, if you’re wondering. Although, I did lost my mom when I was eight due to complication of several diseases. But I’m not a marriage-phobia. I just want everything to be perfect, if it can be. If I can push it to be perfect, if I have choices. Marriage for me is a big deal, a life time deal. I just want to be sure that I won’t be making wrong choice. Damn, that person will accompany you for a life time, dude! It’s sure you will get bored one time. And I’m pretty easy to get bored. And that what scare me. And that what am I wondering to the second case couples. Does this question never pop up in their mind?

I read a post about marriage that said marriage is not about you and your happiness, it’s about your partner and their happiness. You marry someone when you’re really sure want to make them happy, not the other way around. Maybe this thing that make me have a pathetic way of looking on marriage. I’m still thinking about me, what is the advantage for me, what are they offering me, and so on. I know I am an egoistical person, haha. That’s because I’m smart. Smart people tend to be egoist, hehe. But, I don’t think I will change that part of me and I feel marriage doesn’t suit me. But I don’t wanna have life style that have no commitment, like American’s and European life style. I’m way too religious than them. Not a fanatic one, but still.

Obviously, I wanna get married someday. But will I survive? Or will I just surrender by social norm? I don’t know. I have no idea.

Just when I won… — February 7, 2014
Peeta Mellark —

Peeta Mellark

I’m in love with this character. Clearly, I am. Hahaha

Yeah, well, I’m one of those Hunger Games’s fans. I love reading books, especially fiction. But, I knew Hunger Games from it’s movies first then it’s books. After I watched The Hunger Games movie, I like character Peeta Mellark more than Gale Hawthorne. Girls usually like Gale more than Peeta. Yeah, I know Liam Hemsworth is kinda dreamy, haha. But I don’t. I don’t know why but I could see there’s something more in Peeta that was not covered by the movie. I usually attract to something or someone like that. Things that others don’t notice, but have more value than the popular one. Of course, I mean in real life too.

And, as usually, my gut is right. When I started reading the books, I knew character Peeta better. And he was one of the true kindness that existed. Well, at least in books, hehe. He was one of those people that did good things just because they couldn’t do bad things. They did good things because they wanted to do it, no motive at all. He was sincere. He demanded nothing in return. At all. And I think that was what made Katniss fell in love with him. And also do I, haha. :p

I usually burst into tears when I read the part where Peeta told how much he cared about Katniss or showed his love to her. It was so pure that no one could deny how true and big his love was. He never told how much he loved Katniss. He just showed. But I think that is what really count. I read Twilight Saga as well, and Edward Cullen’s love is the biggest love I had ever known before I knew Peeta. Edward sometimes showed his egoistical side which Peeta never did. Peeta was not only kind to Katniss. He was kind to everyone. But he was ready to confront any dangers that threatened the one he loved. And for me, it is more noble than what Edward did. I never fall for Edward, but I do fall for Peeta.