I literally have no words.

Hey hello hi.

‘M still alive, still breathing, still struggling with iatrogenic anxiety (I made a decision to torture myself more in the form of residency. I know I know). I was so completely sure that I would excel at this one step of my life, because 1. I love love love the subject 2. I love working behind the screen. I love mundane work. I love routines and I hate surprises. 3. I spent a good amount of time interning in this departement, I knew the people well. Familiar faces = easier transition. But nope. Those reasons aren’t enough to keep my insane brain from being so tangled. I have trouble adapting. From being a jobless post-iship doctor (lots of free time, going out, catching up with friends, family time, I’m-feeling-blue me time, my-period-is-coming me time, lots of book to read, tv series to watch) to a resident. Honest to God I thought as a non emergency department, our job wouldn’t be this time consuming and tiring. My senior are working from 7 am to 9 pm monday to friday sometimes on saturday too. The samples that have to be examined are stacking high. They come from all over department in the hospital (with only 4 doctors doing the work). On top of that they still have to be responsible for weekly tumor board/ discussion with some departments. Not to mention studying for exams. Wow this residency life might be as hard as the emergency ones. I don’t hate it, or regret my choice. It just takes me by surprise. And I cant stop my head from thinking 16282629162 times ahead. Will I ever have another me time? I barely see my family will they hate me? Will my future kids get enough of my attention. Will I survive??? This takes me back to the early months of internship program, when I was still trying to fit in, and get hold of the rhythm. I told myself multiple times that its just a transition. That its okay to feel miserable in the beginning. That its very very normal. I tried to ignore the toxic crippling anxiety thats so easy to spiral down but god its hard. My palpitation is back, so is trouble sleeping at night. I keep waking up 2-3 times during the night. The sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach, the urge to just crawl whenever you see a desk and just cry. The labored breathing. Everything is coming back. I smile for 1 second and feel miserable the next seconds. My anxiety is off the chart. I’m fully aware that I am going through major changes and this is just my anxious brain reacting. So I just try my best to survive one hour at a time.

Another downside is that I spend less time calling him. We used to phone more than 5 times a day. And I got easily angry (as in dont talk to me in 2 days i wont answer your call or your texts kind of angry.. srsly I was being very childish) when he was in to deep with works. Lately when we talked on the phone, I told him everything about my new life as a resident. I was complaining and asking the same thing over and over. And he gave the usual this too shall pass. You can do it. You’re amazing routine. And it temporary calmed me down. But tonight I’m in the worst anxiety episode ever. So I call him and I cry. I spill everything from A to Z. Absentmindedly saying what if I quit and live with him in remote area (sometimes he’s stationed in remote places). And I think that word triggers him. He starts saying about how I was fully aware when I made this choice, how I have to live it no matter how gruesome it may looks, and that I have to start acting like an adult. Ouch. But then all hell breaks loose. He takes me back to his early year of Taruna and military academy up to where he is now. He describes his works, things that he has to do everyday, the kind of people he has to handle everyday, the load of his works, the name of every…thing. And my mouth can only form a solid O. He spoke so little about his work. I didn’t mind though. I never fully understood the military works anyway. And him being in missions made me think that he’s bound to be secretive. So I never ever knew the magnitude of his work and the responsibility he had to carry.

Then I cry. Because I have been sooooo unfair to him. I haven’t been listening. I never give but I’m always at the receiving end. I rarely ask him about his day, I complain when I dont get enough attention as if his one and only job is to make sure that I’m mentally physically ok. I said I would never take him for granted but I did. I’m feeling ashamed. And guilty. He begs me to stop crying and starts throwing his dad jokes. When it doesn’t work he knows that this is not the usual cry for attention. I apologize to him. Profusely. And he says that he already forgave me from the beginning. Then we cry some more. Its so weird crying through video call. You want to hold that person soooooo bad. You want to comfort him. Feels like he’s just one arm length away but he’s not.

When I finally calm down we start talking… deep shits. Like my fear and anxiety, his thoughts, his plans, his view about things in life. This is probably the first time he lets his guard down. He is one hard shell to crack. Even after 1 year of knowing each other. I swear I can see him from a totally different perspective now. I’m mentally and emotionally drained but I know that he always always got my back. That I am safe.

And that I will spend the rest of my life loving this man.


Niat. Niatkan untuk ibadah, ikhlas Lillahi Ta’ala. Niat agar ilmunya bermanfaat untuk orang lain. Niat untuk membahagiakan dan membanggakan orang tua, niat untuk membuat suami bangga, niat agar nantinya bisa independent. Sabar, ikhlas. Semua ada masanya. Pasti akan terlewati. Sayang pasti bisa.

Semoga Allah melindungi, merahmati, meridhoi, memberi petunjuk dan kekuatan untukmu, dan mengijabahi semua doa-doa positif kita

Kalau ada hal apapun, bilang ya.

Doa dan ridhoku selalu menyertaimu.

Love you.



I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow

And each road leads you where you want to go

I hope this life becomes all that you wanted to

Your dreams stay big

Your worries stay small

You never have to carry more than you can hold

And when you’re out there getting where you getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And if its cold outside,

Show the world the warmth of your smile

But more than anything

I hope you dance.


Time capsule, sorta.

I love writing. I love putting my feelings into words. I love analyzing things. I love remembering exciting experiences, the heartbreaking ones too. I love witnessing myself grow, psychologically. I love how my writings show that I see things differently now. The one thing I probably love the most is writing to my future self. Weird I know. I usually do this when I’m sad, when I face many obstacle in my anxious life, when I’m at my lowest low and don’t know what to do anymore, or sometimes I just do it spontaneously.

Nothing fancy, I write just to ask how my future self is doing? Are you happy now? Do you remember this one time when you almost give up on everything? Do you still watch this series? Have you found him yet? Then I start explaining about what’s going on with my present life, what I’m feeling, and what my hopes are for the future. They’re such nice reminders, when you open them up 2 years later, that you’ve been going through hell and still made it out alive.

I just opened one today. Its addressed to “My future someone”… cringey I know. Blame my 22 years old self. Finding someone has been a huge thing for me. Cause I’m a hopeless romantic, but I’m scared by the idea of “loving someone” or getting to know someone. I’m a damaged good and I didn’t think someone would ever want me. Reading the letter put me in tears. So here goes, a letter to my future someone:

Dear future someone,

Hello there, I don’t know what to call you yet, I’m Sari, by the way. This may seems a bit awkward, but today i watched one of Will’s videos about a love letter to the loved one. He’s collecting love letters all across the globe and putting it in his book. So I thought why not write one to you? Soooo, stranger, how are you? I hope you’re doing fine, wherever you are. I hope you’re healthy, cause the weather is crazy here (talking about weather hahaha we’re real strangers, huh?). Anyway I just want to let you know that I’m still here, waiting and praying patiently. I honestly don’t know what else to do (or not do), so that I can meet you, talk to you, share my story with you (I bet you’re a good listener). Don’t ever lose hope on me okay? Just.. keep looking. Keep looking for a shy looking girl who hates the spotlight, who would rather stand in the corner with gadget in hand, in a room full of people. I may not look that attractive but I’m sure you can see beyond that. I know I have this “bitch fuck off” face, but I hope you won’t stop trying to get to know me. I know I may seem like I don’t care, but I do. Keep looking for an introvert girl with tons of cat memes, music and tv series references, who loves reading and dancing in her room. Keep looking for an overly sensitive girl, she needs your rescue. And when you’re 99.99999% sure that it’s me, don’t hesitate to come, run, hug me. You better hurry old man (lol jk), I’ve been waiting for too damn long!

I hope you’re enjoying life, I hope you’re happy. I’m still here. Always will.

Lots of love.

How I wish I could give myself a hug and told her that its going to be okay, that someone (a stranger indeed) will come along and love you so deep you could burst. That he’s a good listener, that he can see beyond your chubby figure, insecurity, and anxiousness. That he didn’t give up on you even when your messed up mind told you to give up on him multiple times. That he found a way to get close to you, despite all your “I dont wanna be with someone who doesn’t know a thing about music, tv shows, movies, books, or medicine” mindset. That he is in fact much older than you! Funny how the little things in this letter turn out to be true.

I won’t take him for granted. I won’t take any of these feelings for granted. X


Hey, you ☔.

Your understanding

Your never ending patience

Your laugh at my outbursts

Your “yes”es to my absurd requests

Your texts and those emojis

Your military talks

The way you easily, single-handedly throw my insecurities out of the window

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” you said

The way you look at me with your big brown eyes

Your love for your mum

Your warm hands

Your warm embrace

Your gentle pat on my back when we say goodbye

Your love

And the way you’re letting me know that I’m loved.



I think that the person who is best fit to love you isn’t someone who makes you feel the happiest, but someone who makes you feel the biggest, the most. Even when you become jagged and figuratively cut him like the broken glass you are, he will still, and always be, in awe of how fucking stunning you look, shining in the light, colours bouncing off your broken tips into the world around you; he wouldn’t even care if he bled to death.



Plot frickin twist.

I’ve been dormant for 9 months! Wow! Nope I didn’t elope or get pregnant. I just got lost in the moment. I thought nothing could ever top 2017, I was so scared to let it go. But then 2018 happens. I can’t even begin to explain how mind-boggling this year is. Living in Madiun for a year has taught me a lot. I grew as a person. I learned to interact with other human beings, tolerate their jokes and point of view. I learned how to be comfortable around new people (I’m still awkward, still not your typical social butterfly, but hey, slow progress is still progress). Now I know why they always said, “you need to open up more.” I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I forgot other people existed. I learned how to be sincerely happy and smile more. I used to feel so disgusted with myself for being fake, but now I know how to be kind and mean it. So yep, I owe this program a lot. 

Now here comes the plot twist. A bundle of joy was born in this world! I have a niece and surprise surprise I love her unconditionally. Lol I was never a big fan of babies. I had my fair share of anxiety when my sister was pregnant. WILL I LOVE THIS CHILD? I could only fake some smiles for so long. Snap snap snap I was wrong. Right then and there when I held her in my arms I knew I would give up my limbs for her if I had to. Well, not that dramatic but still. She’s only 5 weeks old but she has taught me more than my old brain could possibly handle. She taught me patience, love, understanding, and how to be selfless. I see my sister in a different view now. I have so much respect for her. It is so hard to be a mom. So fucking hard. I’d like to do a post about this someday.

2018 has been life changing. Probably the best year ever. I honestly don’t want to let this one go, but I have to. Here’s to 2019. I want to be irrevocably happy.
PS: I met someone ☺️


Good news.

I’m suddenly surrounded by pregnant women & newborns. The bridesmaid periods are long gone. My social media feeds are filled with babies, USG, test packs -for fucks sake, low Q maternity shoots, thinly-veiled-attempt-to-show-off-that they’re-not-gaining-much-weight-during pregnancy-kind-of-pics…. I’m happy for them. I frickin am. They radiate warmth and happiness. They frickin glow. But I can’t shrug off the feeling of being left behind. When my little sister announced her pregnancy it’s all crumbling down; my happy-peaceful-content state of mind that I tried so hard to build and maintain. It’s the final blow of the good news I’m pregnant chain I’ve received these past few months. My first reaction was overwhelmingly happy. Imma be a real aunt! But then the fact sank in. People are moving forward with their lives. They walk down the normal timeline, do what most people are supposed to do, experience what normal people do in their respective age. For one second I thought fuck normal I have my own pace. But you can’t help but wonder about where you stand in the line. Will you ever get to be where they’re at? Will you experience that? Will you ever be normal? You get this uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach; am I doing the right thing with my life? Easy to say that getting married, having kids, building promising career are not a race, when you’re not the one falling behind. When you’re not the one who’s been on the bench for far too long. Rejected. Feeling like a total failure.

Good news is a double sided sword. You get to be happy for other people- giving you reassurance that despite all your crazy thoughts you’re still kind. But then it also double your insecurities- making you feel like you’re the most fake human being on the planet because you’re happy for them but secretly feeling miserable inside.

And the question remains

Are you truly a good person who’s waiting on your chance to shine or you’re just an insecure flop who can’t handle other people happiness?