fake it 'til....

yet another year has gone by, and I'm happy to report that I think most of my negative feelings are under control. for the most part, I feel much more comfortable. comfortable with who I am, both the good and the ugly. negative feelings are still around and they'd probably never go away, but I've finally learnt how to kinda process them healthily instead of burying it all deep inside. it's not always successful but I'll take the wins.

life is pretty good -- I'll always remember having a convo with Shiqi maybe nearly 10 years ago about how drama free our lives were and how we liked that. looking back, I had no idea how much drama I would later get myself into, and how bad the drama in my own head would become. yet, thanks to the drama here and there I've also learnt and grown. still a long way to go, with how irrational and illogical I can be sometimes, but we can never be perfect. I just hope I'll keep getting better at being me, and become a better person all around.

I still get surprised every time I remember I'm already 29 this year. I started blogging more than half my lifetime ago, and though it comes once a year nowadays, I'm pretty thankful for it, to look back at snapshots of my thoughts in the past years, and realizing how far I've come. it wasn't that long ago that I couldn't see myself living in this world for long, but now I can, and I hope I'll continue leaving posts every year until I'm elderly. who knows. 

good job on living so far, me! lots of love. 

sandbag

looks like I'm here again, with nobody to go to. or rather, I do have people to go to but it's the same old shit with me and ain't nobody wanna be hearing woe without reason and listen without trying to fix. if going to someone means I have to pretend to be okay after then that makes me feel worse, so better not. I feel like my mind craves a good cry, a self-beating, something to validate the emotions. emotions are valid, but how do we process them properly without rhyme or reason? I've come to realize I'm quite judgmental; or did it come as a defense mechanism? or with age? haha, as I type this I find myself wishing it's something I can explain away but truth be told it probably isn't. 

I am judgemental. I should acknowledge that. 

I judge people I think are good, and I judge people I think are bad. I judge people close to me and I judge people through the screen. I judge and I judge, I judge me harshest and the worst. no need for self-preservation for a walking corpse, an empty shell, a programmed psyche for smiles and lols. 

this is a good beating. 

revisiting

i have a penchant for blogging with the passing of every year, it seems. it's currently a week into February, but it might as well have been one day into 2021. it feels like the past month flew by, relatively peacefully i think, but also without much thought or reflection.

today i found myself feeling lows lower than i logically think should be. all things considered, i should be quite happy with where i am, yet emotions are something that i've always struggled to manage. i've made strides but sometimes i find myself again caught in a bubble, feeling how i felt during my darkest moments. it should pass today, tomorrow, maybe even the next hour, but in each of these moments they feel as if they'd never end, as if they'd plague me till the end.

someone in a show i watched said that one of the sad things in life is to yearn for something that's actually common and ordinary. barring from devolving into self-pity, i think that's relatable. i do wish i was ordinary. yet, it seems i want to be ordinary in the eyes of most and special in the eyes of a few? such specific expectations are too much to ask for, isn't it? do i care about this because i care about what people think too much? pegging myself to others' opinions and standards? at the end of it all, how do i see myself?

i don't know, to be honest. year after year i find myself being older than i feel, an immature soul trapped in an ageing body. this year, again, i find myself wondering if i'm really 28. i certainly think differently, but i feel the same as when i was 18. and i'm still in a state of conflict between my thoughts and my feelings.

learning to breathe underwater

hi. i thought it was a year and a half since i last wrote something on this blog. i came on here again because i discussed with E and we thought it would be good for me to pick up writing again, since i enjoy it and it’s an outlet for my emotions. maybe if any of you chance upon here, it’s fine too if you wanna read because i’m just going to practice opening my mind up here.

so. emotions have been too much to handle — i thought 2018 was bad, but in 2019 it got worse. now it’s 2020 and i can’t remember how i used to feel years ago when emotions weren’t so difficult to manage. or maybe my emotions are just scaling with age and if you put the current me in 18y/o me’s shoes, i wouldn’t bat an eye to the things i was going through.

i was saying i thought it was a year and a half since i last wrote. turns out it wasn’t, because sometime in march 2019 i came here to write how i felt like living was worse than death, but that i had to pretend i didn’t feel any of that. and because i had to pretend, i didn’t click on ‘publish’. i guess i should have known things in my head weren’t well at that point, but then again self-awareness isn’t really easy when you’re trying to act like what you’re not.

then i found myself wanting to die all too often. it honestly wasn’t alien to me... i felt the same way in JC when i felt stress and defeat and helplessness. i felt the same way when i experienced heartbreak and loss back when i was younger. i felt the same way when torturing myself over my romantic preferences. but those seemed rational; i was going through tough amounts of negative emotions after all. and every time i got through it. what’s to say i wouldn’t this time?

difference was, it got too often and too unjustifiable and it was no longer just about me, it mattered to E too. so off to a doctor i went, and after a long two sessions of sharing my emotions and experiences i was diagnosed with a case of double depression in september 2019. to explain it kinda simply, it meant that for years i’ve been going about my life with an invisible rain cloud over my head (high functioning depression) and then one day, i started a descent into a dark pit (major depression). i know i’m supposed to be writing, but i think we’re not always able to come up with the best explanations for ourselves and describe it as well all the time. and this article does a decent job of describing how high functioning depression (aka dysthymia) feels even without the major depression, so here you go: https://www.healthline.com/health/what-you-should-know-high-functioning-depression#8

i hope life can get better. i really do. and it has gotten better, ever since i sought professional help and took medicine and opened up to the people around me. and i do realize how people around me would have never ever knew if i never told them. i guess what i’m saying is that if you have these feelings too, honestly it takes a mix of everything to get better. you can’t just rely on yourself. even if you just rely on friends or family it might not be enough, because they’re not professional equipped to help. that’s not to say going to a doctor is enough. you still need awareness and support from those around you. and you need time. i need time. lots of it. i hope we can all be okay.

new days

it's a new year, so first post of the year! happy 2019. life wasn't the most breezy last year, though a lot of it was in my own head...

so, things that i think i should bring to the next year:
- trying hard
- being thankful and content
- being cheesy and sappy
- smiling lots

things i should leave behind:
- giving politically correct reactions
- being too eager to please
- unfounded guilt
- putting up a strong front

things i should cultivate:
- collected and thoughtful responses
- attention to detail
- consistent good habits (sleep, money, workouts)

ha, this was surprisingly easy to come up with. i guess i have already been thinking through the person i was in 2018 and the person i wanna be in 2019, what with the numerous resolution setting and reflective conversations i've had with people.

well, maybe i should look back at the first post i wrote i 2018. i doubt it's a resolution-related post, but that'll also show the kind of person i was the last turn of the year.

edit: holy shit, guess i was kinda wrong. it was a pretty... inspiring revisit into my head a year ago. (link: https://bythe-sidelines.blogspot.com/2017/03/next-track.html)

bravado

where does courage come from? the deep breaths taken when your voice starts to quiver? the tight grip with both hands when they start to tremble? the smile someone blesses upon you that whispers don’t worry, you’ll be fine?

where does courage come from when fear is logical and natural, warning signs blaring to persuade of self-preservation? where is the source of determination from which you take the plunge, figuratively or literally?

i remember the long seconds i took to steel myself when i cliff dove the last time, 15 meters of free fall. the way i focused on the horizon and not the seawater beneath, clenching my fists, muttering to myself that it’s okay. the punishment of pain that came afterwards still kinda jars me, and sets back my courage to do something similar by quite a lot. i don’t imagine i’d ever attempt it again.

similarly, i’m taking a plunge this time, and maybe i’m worried that if it doesn’t turn out well, i’m gonna clam up for a long period after. yet at the same time, i’m sick of self-preservation, and i know i’ll regret it less if i tried and failed and hurt, than if i never tried at all.

i still know i don’t regret doing that cliff dive, not at all. i’d have hated myself if i didn’t try.

sometimes living in a dream

recently, i find solace in the ticks of my wristwatch. it’s new, so the sound is something new as well, but not foreign. it’s almost that of a quiet classroom, of falling asleep on a still night, a metronome swinging to a beat or a goodbye. it gives me comfort in its constancy.

moments can be fleeting, but i like that about it. it can be terrifying, how one moment can be stellar and the other tragic. maybe i’ve been tired recently to crave consistency, or maybe i’m changing the same way life does?  i half wanna settle down, but that shouldn’t mean i should just settle. i’ve been following the flow, but that shouldn’t mean i can just be swept away by the currents.

balance? is that what i’m trying to achieve; a delicate middle ground?

go figure

we all have someone we wanna be. maybe we’re not quite sure who that is, and maybe we don’t even know who we are right now, but we all have characteristics we strive for and flaws we try to address.

originally, i was dejectedly thinking that the person i am now isn’t quite who i wanna be. isn’t who i wanted to be. in some aspects i’ve made strides, but in some others i’ve regressed. the thing is, sometimes i can’t tell one from the other.

i used to spend my pocket money on buying tissues, on flag day, on charity donations. but now that i’m earning my own money, with so much more loose change, i seem to have become more skeptical of these things, or, alternatively, is it that i’ve become wiser and less idealistic?

i avoid eye contact with these people, but i’m unsure if it’s me not wanting to be tugged by the heartstrings, or, is it me not knowing what kind of reaction to give now that i’m not a starry eyed teenager, but a (ironically) knowing adult?

in the first place, do they even need my acknowledgement, or do i too quickly jump to judgements that i’m above them, and therefore should morally provide some respite, even if not monetary?

also. (one of many ‘also’s,) i prided myself on being someone open minded, or i wanted to. but i’m slowly realizing how often i ask loaded questions, how often i want to stick with my own assumptions and be right. there was a quora question that went “what’s the hardest thing to give up in life?”, and someone detailed an anecdote of her best friend who was convinced her boyfriend didn’t love her anymore. you’d think it progressed in some way to end with the friend not being able to give up her boyfriend, but surprisingly, it didn’t. it turned out that the boyfriend was mourning the loss of a family member, and just couldn’t pull himself out of the vortex of sorrow. but her friend was dead convinced he didn’t love her anymore because she didn’t feel it, and even with his words, her insecurities were stronger. the poster ended with her answer — the hardest thing to give up in life is something we’ve decided to believe.

that hit me hard. i too convince myself sometimes that i’m not deserving; of love, of friendship, of respect, of honesty. in most cases, i convince myself that it’s fine; i don’t care for it anyway — i love myself enough, i’m my own best friend, i’ll make a mark in life, and i’m smart enough to see the truth. but really though... really?

i misheard the lyrics on bradley cooper and lady gaga’s ‘shallow’ recently and related so much to it: “in all the good times, i find myself longing for change, and in all the bad times, i feel myself.” somehow, my good times are built upon convincing myself that i just need myself, which yeah sure, people always inspirationally propagate, and there are days i feel that way perfectly. but on bad days i kinda get faced with the reality that i want and need companionship. fuck, i hate to admit this so much... and it says something that when i feel like this, i feel shitty and pathetic, but i feel like i’m being honest to myself. i guess it’s also time to admit i’ve kinda muddled being independent (which i work towards) with being alone (which too much of makes me sad).

it turns out that the lyrics doesn’t say “in all the bad times, i feel myself,” but “in all the bad times, i fear myself“. we hear what we wanna hear, huh.

i wanted to think that i was well on my way towards being someone i wanted to be, but perhaps firstly, i need to face the harsh truth that it’s not a straight route, but a road with turns and loops and sometimes a mountain. and secondly, it’s fine to trip and stall and reverse and make some wrong turns. i probably need to be a little more forgiving of the world and myself, i deserve at least that much.

you paint sunshine yellow over a wall of grey

i'm too egoistic. always wanting to look put-together without trying too hard, and not just physically, but emotionally, intellectually, morally. yet it's fragile this way -- i don't take pride in it, so i don't safeguard it, and it ends up being a paper wall against the wind.

it's tough to admit i'm weak, which is hypocritical since i tell people that it's ok to have moments of weaknesses and vulnerability. always easier said than done, huh? i convince myself all the time that failing's alright and falling's alright and that i'm alright, but honest to God sometimes i'm fucking not. i just don't want to explain how i sometimes don't even know what's wrong with me, and i don't wanna admit how sometimes whatever people say doesn't cheer me up but i feel obliged to act like i feel better, and me, it's always about what /i/ want, what /i/ feel, which is perhaps human instinct but i hate it all the same. 

Solitude

Empathy is hard to grasp when we only see through our eyes.

Sometimes, there’s so much to say, but no words to put them in.

End of a day

There's so much to say, yet I know very little -- someone who I related to, still relate to, has passed. I didn't know him, and even lesser did he know me. But through his music, and my appreciation, I'd like to think we had a connection.

He showed himself to be honest a person, and multiple testimonies vouch for his kindness. If you look at worldly things, he had fame, money, success, recognition, and talent. He put in hard work. He remained humble with an open mind for the world and its intricate differences and varieties.

Countless pass in this world every day, and none are any less a tragedy. Every passing has a story, and every story engages different people. This one engages me. He was someone with a character I value, and directly or indirectly, I caught snippets of his development over the years. I almost feel invested now that I look back on it, but invested is not a term I would use because I didn't commit much attention nor effort.

But his passing tangles me. Pain and escape aren't foreign concepts to anyone, yet even though I've seen his smiles, his tears, his soulful singing, his moving lyrics; I still never really noticed his pain. Apparently, he was always truthful with his struggles and depression, too, but nope, it still never registered.

// written 201218

immature

i'm 24, but i feel like i'm 18 in my head. or maybe 16, not that i can tell much of a difference. the same problems plague me, and i still haven't figured how to overcome them. or if i should learn to accept them — which camp do i go with, to better myself unrelentingly or to embrace my shortcomings? i still often find myself unable to piece my thoughts together properly, falling short of a rational decision and having to withstand the deep sense of shame that comes thereafter. yet i'm weak to criticism, harboring more indignance than humility, i swear to myself never to commit certain mistakes again, not for the reward of a job well done but instead for the warped satisfaction of leaving critics unable to bring up the topic again. and curse them if they dare take any credit for mere words they've said.

see, even now i'm bitter, unable to see things from a wider perspective. my ego's too big for my age, and gargantuan for my mental age. i haven't made birthday wishes in a long time, but this time, i wish i could reign in my feelings better in favor of logic and principles. i'm guided far too heavily by my heart and my head can't keep up. i wish i could feel a little less like this.

Passing

In the mornings when I’m crossing the road near the station, it's sometimes with this old lady. The first time I saw her, she was inching closer and closer to the edge of the pavement, and I wondered why she was so eager and in a rush to cross, a trait I’ve seen so often in my own mother.

The lights switched and it turned out that the inching was more of a hobbling, as she could only take small, shaky steps to walk. The small grocery trolley she had in front of her was for support rather than storage. I wasn't sure if the time was enough for her to make it across. I slowed my steps, lagging behind strangers, but I was still quicker, and if I slowed some more it wouldn't be any more obvious that I was watching her, which for some reason seemed like a bad thing at the time.

I stepped onto the other side. throwing glances back, I saw that she needed just a few more seconds, and the waiting cars thankfully gave her that.

…every time I see her, I feel an inexplicable sense of sadness. I don't think I pity her, because she tries her best, and I’m not going to assume or imagine that things aren't great at home for her. I wonder, with slight suspect, if it's because everyone else walks by with their faces in their phones, not showing a sliver of concern, or just hiding it. Maybe someone else looked back and I missed it, because I, too, walked ahead seemingly uncaringly.

Or maybe, I feel pity for myself, that I see more gusto and push in her than in me.

Too much of anything is a bad thing

I wouldn't say I concluded too early, but first impressions don't always go a long way, I guess. I'm tired. Work is stressful, and it's getting more difficult to wake up every day. Minor inconveniences become major annoyances, and small mistakes make a lasting impact. Perhaps because I loved the job so much at the start, expectations rose too high and setbacks become all the more stark now. I also invested too much in it, and the tough thing to acknowledge is that investment doesn't equal returns.

On the other hand, I'm a position where people have expectations of me, not to do well, but to do. To do, and do, and do, and do even more. Yeah, everyone's who's an employee goes through that. But some people are good at saying no, and I'm not. I'm trying to work on it, but God, it's so difficult. It's easy for me to talk to people, and to get close, and precisely because of this, it comes with the price of being eager to please in order to maintain those social relations. I genuinely want to know people and to treat them well. But I'm still learning where to draw the line, because it's easy to be taken advantage of in a world where everyone's overworked and running on too little resources. 

Another thing that irks me is if I make too many mistakes. Mistakes are unavoidable, yes, but when does it get too many to be acceptable? It sucks the worst when you think you're right, and you double check, and it still seems right, but it turns out you're wrong, and suddenly it all seems extremely obvious once it's pointed out to you. This causes a kind of paranoia that I already think cripples me: when things are done right yet I get a nagging feeling that I'm wrong, and the tendency to immediately conclude that it's my fault whenever something goes wrong. Sometimes you just can't backtrack enough to know what went wrong, so yeah, it ends up being your fault anyway. It feels pathetic.

I'm ranting, which is irritating. I want these feelings to all go away, please. Less seriousness, but more professionalism, if that makes sense.

Where we've made our home

Came across this viral post of a short essay written by Cassandra Hsiao for her applications to college, and it's moving to say the least. Differences are mocked at, but if we learnt to be more open and strong, it could be something that weaves us together. Post here: https://twitter.com/zafirahhanis/status/850584217259876356

Two weeks have passed since I started work! I'm thankful, because I'm blessed with helpful and inclusive colleagues, and the job matter has been engaging and just challenging enough to keep me on my toes. Time flew by every day to the extent that I often didn't realize it was already lunchtime or 6pm. Every night, I go to sleep and wake up feeling expectant for the new day. What more could I ask for?

Well today, it hit me that as patient and understanding my boss and colleagues have been towards my ignorance of the operational and technical aspects of my work, why haven't I been equally so to my mom when it comes to technology and the like? It's not something she grew up with and developed an aptitude for, just like how I had no background in my job. I should be guiding her and answering her questions patiently too, shouldn't I?

Interaction with family triggers the uglier side of you because you're comfortable enough to let your guard down, but even so, is it warranted and justified? It's something I need to ask of myself; to be more conscious and understanding of these differences in circumstances, not just selfishly as a new employee, but considerately, as a daughter, sister, and a person. 

Firsts

So today my niece, Jo'en, told us she's being bullied at school. Name-calling, specifically, and while I don't know the extent to which adult intervention is justified, I don't think any amount of shaming is good for a kid at all.

I suppose the best we can do for her as of now is to listen and support her, because right now, the bright side of it all is that she's actually telling us instead of hiding it in shame. That at least shows that she's not internalizing the blame, thinking she did something wrong to deserve such treatment. 

That leads me to wonder about how I'll be treated when I start work (it begins tomorrow!!!! AHH). I don't thrive on good social ties, but I sure as hell wither without it. I wanna make a great first impression without coming across as too tryhard, but ultimately it all comes down to the kind of people my colleagues are, which I can't control. 

Ah well. Wish us luck!

Next track

I briefly considered starting a new blog for my thoughts, but easily I came to the conclusion that I'd prefer to keep it all in one place; from my cringey teenage self to when I struggled with emotions and burdens that were over my head. I am who I am because of everything I've said, done, felt, everything I've not, and everyone else. And this isn't a place to showcase myself, but to reflect and muse, which I've done largely in my own head for the two years that've lapsed since my last post. (Wow, it's 2017 already? I've lived 24 years? Wow.)

So, new phase of my life, next track in the album. Ha, title is kind of a throwback to the old URL of this blog (I called it playpauseforward back in da dayz). But I digress. 

I graduated from university, travelled a ton, hopefully matured, and now, I'm set to start work in my first full-time position in my life. Some moments I feel expectant for what is to come, and with some discipline, the positivity sustains for rather long moments. But when I'm not conscious, the unsettled feelings easily creep up -- the discomfort of an uncertain future, the possibility of difficulties to come. Thankfully, self-awareness is a strength of mine, and times like those I remind myself of a quote: "Discomfort is the compass to growth." I pen this here in the hopes that future me will re-read this and find renewed strength and motivation.

There's so much I wanna say now that I've started writing, but I'll keep it succinct. Read an article today that offered relevant advice: stop judging actions, thoughts and decisions as 'good' versus 'bad', but rather, evaluate whether they take you a step closer to achieving your intended goals.

Hmm, now... What do I really wanna achieve?

Multiplier effect

edit: Ah, originally posted sometime in July 2015, but I accidentally reverted it as a draft and had to republish it. Date isn't accurate.

Sick. Uneasy. These feelings have been plaguing me for a few days now. At first I thought it was the low from having physically and mentally exhausted myself over two plus days, but I got enough rest for me to second guess that. I guess we can't always explain feelings at the first instance, but when events that are remotely negative start following soon after, it's easy to pin the unease down as a premonition to the following events. Crazy. Confirmation bias.

Anyway. I've been on edge ever since Monday. After getting a full day of uneasy rest, I went to work on Tuesday (where I was jumpy and irritated), and finally felt a little more restful on Wednesday, until at night when I visited my uncle in the hospital. Seeing his condition unnerved me. I'm not sure whether it's that I usually find him welcoming me so enthusiastically when I visit his house, forcing me to have a soft drink and finish the snacks on the table, that this time, conditioning led my senses to expect the same but to be sorely let down. I don't want to describe the state he was in because it hurts to recall it. But I'm confused. Disturbed. Experience has taught me that it's "sad" and "worrying". But this feeling in me, I can't pin it down as that. It's... A sort of autopilot. I definitely am functioning just like any other day. Still joking, still texting, still daydreaming. But some layer of me is detached. It's as if I would look back on today and remember only this layer and nothing of what I've done. That layer feels like a sort of gloom, makes it feel colder today, makes it harder to smile, makes every effort more tiring to exert.

And it's not just this. Things have been going wrong today, everyday things that usually I may have taken in stride, but today the poison feels xxxx times more potent. It's crazy, but it almost feels like it's not the first of many days that I've gotten a headache from putting up a front.

It's like my flesh is alive but my soul is dead. Or dying. God, help me. I don't even know this feeling I feel...

Small joys

I thought I heard them at first, but as I saw the cars driving over the uneven roads, I presumed that I'd thought too much of it. 

It wasn't until I saw red sparkles reflected in the windows of a high rise building that I audibly gasped. Fireworks! So... Today marks the start of the NDP rehearsals. While I don't care much for the parade, I  quite treasure the fireworks display (as do I during New Year celebrations). 

I remember hiding behind the wall and covering my ears when we used to be able to see fireworks from our bedroom. I never liked the booms and claps of the explosives, only peeking every once in a while at the neon colours and patterns until they were enveloped in smoke.

And then the NDP moved away from the Indoor Stadium to Marina Bay (or was it the Padang first???) and I was left with the booms and claps. They started to mean much more to me, standing in for the sparkles I could no longer see, and in later years, symbolizing a childhood memory I now miss.

There are times when we get mistaken about things, but that's really only sometimes. We just need to look harder and more often than not, we'd find out that our intuition's actually quite accurate. Though we may not understand what's going on immediately, but intuition's in the heart, and to me, that's all that matters.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding. (Proverbs 3:5 NKJV)

Stills in Europe

http://qingerie.vsco.co/journal/europe-15

Reaaaally procrastinating editing the photos with us three (and then later us two) in it because we just have so many! Gosh. Hahhaa. Enjoy these meanwhile :)