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Friday, October 27, 2017

What my depression feels like.

disclaimer : This is going to be a very raw and real post, not intended as an attack at anyone in particular.

"Suicide is cowardly , selfish and childish" ;
...easy to say if you have not completely surpassed all your limits and don't feel like every passing hour is an eternity away. I hate how depression as a concept and feeling has become so dumbed down. You do NOT get depressed over the fact that the shoes don't come in your colour. You get depressed when the rug that is your life gets violently tugged from beneath where you're standing and you just want to feel... normal again. What people fail to see is that a suicidal person is not acting out and doing it to hurt, it's a complete 'fuck all' feeling where being alive is mental torture and it's got nothing to do with YOU, don't take someone's death and make it about YOU.


When I was immersed deeper into depression and could not see the light, I wanted to articulate exactly what that felt like . I wanted to capture my thoughts in real time. Because even then, at the bottom of the pit,  I knew that there would be a time when I would not feel that way anymore. I would not even remember why I felt the way I did. I wanted to believe that the colourful witty person was the default me, and this angry, sad person was the exception.

 So I would write a line or two of something, before feeling like it was pointless, and wanting to work on something else. A new episode, to study a new chapter, to be on facebook or instagram, have a snack. Then I'd tell myself, it's late. Let's wake up tomorrow early in the morning, have a hot cup of  Milo and begin. And the next day would come. But the moment I felt my eyes open, I would lie in bed for a further two hours, pillows on my left and right to resemble the warmth of another person. There was nothing to look forward to for the day. Everybody else had a life to return to, a job to work, a family crisis to resolve, their own settling in issues from spending a year abroad, and I'd be met with the same old advice;

Top 5 'helpful' advice to someone you know who's falling apart:
1. People are going through worse, be grateful for all that you already have.
2. You know that I'm there, I just cannot be there right now.
3. Why don't you spend some time outside your house?
4. Go and buy things to make yourself happy.
5. Pray, don't lose faith in God.

Which would have been great, except I was constrained, financially, transport wise, and when all I wanted to do was spend time with people, they would be busy. I cannot be angry with people for having a life, I understand. But it got frustrating to spend time with just my thoughts.

The second most prominent thing about being depressed was my complete inability to sleep until it was 5-6 am . At first I thought it was the fact that I just came back to a different time zone. But by the time October peeked in, I knew it was more that that. Imagine needing to do five to eight hours of class alongside this, dress well, pay attention, be a good student and neglect the fact that I was not happy with my life, because after all "You have so much to be grateful for, if you're not happy it is your fault". To which again, I'd be met with more 'helpful' advice.

"I can't seem to fall asleep."
"Just go and close your eyes, put away your phone , and sleep".

--gee, thanks.

Tasks like waking up and being in class, dressed well were suddenly.. difficult , and because it was so easy to everyone else, I was afraid that opening up about it just made me appear like a big baby who just needs to get by. Who I was on the outside or on social media was a completely inaccurate reflection of what was going on inside. Because, god forbid you expose your vulnerabilities online.
And maybe because I seemed fine , no alarm bells rung for those who I really wanted to read in between lines and know what was going on. Physically present.

It's not like I was in solitary confinement . It was worse. It was being surrounded by people but feeling so alone, misunderstood, vulnerable. It was no surprise that my relationship with almost everyone was failing as well. My intentions of wanting a better environment or space to exist in got translated as unreasonable demands and ungratefulness. I spoke less, because I could already forsee every conversation ending with a conflict or fight, and every conflict just made me deteriorate further because to even exist required energy and I did not have the energy to defend myself from false accusations or hear myself being called selfish or needs to always be right  --because 'alright/default me' would not have let the conversation navigate this way. Vulnerability leaves room for others to define who you are. You start thinking; 'Am I really like this or that?' Then I started believing and becoming the things I was fed with. That I was an unpleasant person to be around.


"Speak to people about what was going on, don't keep it all to yourself !"


The average adult provides a  'helpful' comparison of how things were in the good old days when people could endure far worse and harsh and still survive, being sure to mention that they have more reasons to not be alive, but that they didn't choose that, therefore the same comparison should apply. Completely oblivious to the seriousness of anything that is going on in your life which makes you feel like you are overreacting. On the same list of hurtful reactions is to be told that the pain and being depressed is self inflicted and if one could just look on the bright side then the problem would not exist. Perhaps what is more hurtful is when the familiar face you are relying on is looking at you like you're pathetic. You want to transfer your thoughts, energy, feelings to someone with a mere touch because you cannot gather the words even, to WHY you are hurt, HOW did it get this bad, WHAT you plan to do about it.

P/S for future reference : A simple "I understand" would have spoke louder than anything. All someone who is kicked down wants for is for someone to wants to spend time with them. Does not have to be anything fancy.


"Just focus on your studies, after all, that's all you have to do now"

That's another thing , which I found kept coming up whether directly or indirectly. Again I feel, another surprisingly difficult thing to do stemming from the inability to focus on one thing. There are so many needs, which can't be bought and cannot be satisfied, underlying in the background, and after all the trial run stuff was dismissed as no big deal, what person would feel like discussing the rest?

Just another subset of depression is how everything which used to be your favourite thing loses its appeal to you. There is no food you think tastes good or worth craving. There's no event you want to be at because that means meeting more people and needing to put an alright or happy mask on. There are no clothes you find flatter you anymore. There is no person who peaks your interest. Cynicism creeps in. It feels annoying to watch or be around happy people because you know happiness is a short lived, temporary concept . Or maybe you envy how other people start of  this race with springy shoes and cheerleaders on the sidelines while you are running it barefoot and alone.

Perhaps what's worst than fluctuating (or non existent) interests, is a fluctuating mood . How you can feel so weighed down in the morning then by evening feel completely different then switch back by midnight. When you're 'normal', you really believe you're just overreacting. Maybe if you wait it out, it can get better. But it doesn't , does it?

I hope I captured what it feels like, even though deep down I think I don't do the description justice because everyone experiences it differently . Things have gotten a little bit better but the fact that I wanted to articulate this was at the back of my mind for some time. I'm glad I did it. '

*sigh*

Freedom is an illusion.

Since coming back home, issues have just snowballed into a larger mess and now I don't know how to begin to scoop the mess away .

The term 'fresh' graduate seems like an oxymoron now, because in all honesty, I saw graduation as some pearly white gate into a better place where I would be treated differently, Jobs would not be so difficult to get or ease into, I'd involve myself in more intellectual conversations, meet fresh faces, have time to go out to bars, date, and to personalise my space with posters, quotes, pictures and tapestries.

I slowly learned that happiness and freedom is an illusion because it exists within the boundaries of

1. Whose roof you're under ,
2. The societal norms of how to behave and dress--being 22 and still so colourful is, in short, not the norm , to get excited over things is lame,
3. Transportation limitations.
4. Your friends' timing , and just because you're free it doesn't mean that your friends would be
5. How comfortable you are with your own company, and if you're anything like me then there's only so many ideas and conversations you can have with yourself in your head before you feel like you need other people to interact with.
6. How sensitive the people around you are to you, whether they even notice if you're falling apart.
7.  Your resources. Whether you have the cash to escape the feeling of being weighed down by everything.
8. Whether you had a taste of better. (It's honestly impossible to go back. It does not mean you're ungrateful or you're being fussy . It means your eyes are opened to how much better your life can be if you tweak certain things about your environment.)

 I still have not learnt to say 'fuck it ' and not feel anything. Life would be a lot easier for me if I knew how.
 

Friday, October 6, 2017

What a mess.

I think people take the ability to just endure a normal day and breathe with ease for granted. Things are not great for me, and if in the process , talking about this is going to put me on a hot seat, I could not care less because I don't even want to be alive anymore .This is going to be a rant post. Don't say I didn't warn you.

*It's a series of wrongs, which at first start of innocent and small, but they pile up, and in conjunction, threaten to topple me over this thin line I'm balancing on.*

I have not been able to fall asleep since I got back from UK, and just when I think I do, there's the vague sounds of  the azan in the background telling me it's the time when other people's days are about to begin. Even on days when I am 'sleeping' , it isn't proper sleep and the slightest sound or light can wake me up. When I DO fall asleep at let's say 6am, I wake up at like 3 pm and conseqently get such little hours of daylight before the day ends and a cycle of un-productivity repeats. If the suggested remedy is to not think , and if it was by some divine grace, that easy, then maybe I would not even go to people with this problem I have in the first place. But it isn't . In fact when I am trying to sleep I am not even thinking about much, it's subconscious.

I have not been to church in over a month, because when I eventually DO fall asleep it's well past 5 am, and I have no energy to wake up at 9 am to go to church, because I would be in a horrible mood, where I feel like stabbing everyone right in the heart even for smiling at me. Honestly, sometimes I feel like it's more about the breakfast before mass than it is about the mass itself. It feels like a task to check off the 'to-do' list, and it makes me angry when people preach about love in the church then the moment they leave it shout profanities at the next driver who tries to enter their lane.

I feel like people wants 'in' on my life when it's good and when  I'm funny and entertaining (which, to be fair, is a lot of times) but when I'm close to throwing in the towel and I'm crumbling, feeling like absolute shit and turning around to find SOMEONE to rely on, there is almost nobody there. It is a strange coincidence that everyone is going through something equally big in their lives to give a shit about me. Which brings me to this memory of someone telling me everyone is too selfish in enjoying their happiness that they do not want to be part of your sadness.

I moved to a new environment to study in to hopefully find some new friends or join clubs. It was a scary decision because I have always enjoyed the comfort and security of a group of friends. The move to the new campus meant I stood alone; yet I wanted to immerse myself in an uncomfortable situation to 'grow'. One month and a dozen acquaintances later, I can say that it's been a month which fell completely short of my expectations because everyone already has their cliques and who I am as a person does not fit into any of these circles. I did not think I wanted to make the mistake of changing who I am just to fit into a group and belong. So I am doing this 'alone' thing, and it's...to put briefly, very, very difficult.

I feel a lot like 'The untalkative bunny' where life carries on in pindrop silence, no matter where I am, be it at home, in school or even amidst people because the mess in my head have no direct solutions. I am in such a state where I am so easily hurt and vulnerable by people's words or actions that there has been a lot of conflict between me and anybody immediate in my life. Hence the best cause of action is to withdraw myself/stay away. There is so much to speak about, conversations which don't even get to pan out because there is nobody who would genuinely appreciate talking about my interests. There is nobody home on mornings, and five-eight hour classes do not exactly give me room to socialise.

I feel like some extremely poor financial decisions have been made and the brunt of the impact is on me. The home is filled with mess stored in the form of storage boxes in the name of being 'tidy' . I have just been trying to sort out mess since I came home. I had asked only for the bare minimal standard of upgrade which I felt would have benefited everyone, instead, I am made to feel like I am 'demanding' , 'unreasonable' and a 'terrorist', who just wants to mess up the order of how things are. There are so many things I feel could be sold, thrown away, weeded out-- but it appears that sitting in mess/disrepair is comfort to other people and I AM UNREASONABLE for suggesting change.

I did not get to have closure with my life abroad because so many things went wrong towards the end, and I was constantly holding it together even when I could not have done so, because any other way would have made the experience even more unpleasant than it was for me. I sensed a lot of hate and discomfort for a place and culture which had thought me what freedom really was. I was restricted from exploring places I wanted to explore on a 'holiday' under the guise of 'safety'. I had no real picture of me even graduating, And it appeared that my graduation was no biggie to the people who came to witness it-- the next immediate concern was whether clothes had been packed accordingly instead. And sadly, closure is not something you get to pluck from mid air. I will have to live with the fact that I was so, fucking alone in my post-graduation celebration while everyone was out with their families just basking in the moment it happened for them.






I don't drive or have a car to practice with. I also do not have a source of income to pay for Grab Cars to go where I want to go, and even if I did, everybody ELSE who I'd like to meet is busy studying/working/dealing with SOME shit. Which, read in line with staying where I stay, and in a house which is empty from morning till late evening, is close to being in prison. Except maybe in prison people speak to each other.

I feel really shitty about my worsening vision. I wish there were something I could do to repair the poor eyesight I have because I hate wearing specs all the time even to just watch the telly at home too. I did not need to do that before. I also don't have the cash to buy contact lenses. Even putting eyedrops is dreadful, like how do I tuck something in my eyeball??! :/

It's only been the first month since studies resumed and the bulk of content is overwhelming. Clearly my consistent study plans are not working out , because with all the other mess that's going on, I could open a book, read about 5 pages and realise I had not absorbed anything at all. 40 percent passing rate and only nine months to get this shit right would translate to yet another dead end.

It appears to be a recurring pattern that I get really close to people then we fade out , and I am not supposed to take it personally. Unfortunately, I have feelings. And I feel everything with so much intensity, especially hurt--, that I feel like ripping my heart out and telling it to behave, and not get so attached to people.


A lot of the hurt can be diluted if I was just a little more comfortable with solitude, which is why I am thinking about how moving back to the KL campus would be to fall on a safety blanket and not deal with the difficult circumstances before me. I need, more than anything, to learn how to embrace the pindrop silence. To dissect my thoughts and dispose of anything toxic . Social media detox, deal with the hurt and not shun it away, To forgive myself for the past. To accept that maybe not everytime it is my fault. Timing and circumstances don't allow for someone to just sit down and get me. And stay. Everyone leaves.


I'm at breaking point. Breaking point.

Monday, June 5, 2017

The last supper.

The anticipation for the feast was vibrant.  At the 5 rows of Hogwarts-esque table, the guests sat. Dressed in their Sunday best, they murmured about how the black, maroon and gold theme resembled that of a palace . They were,undeniably, flattered to be invited to an event of such a grandeur . The room, roughly the size of a football field, housed everyone . Not even one name on the list was left out. In fact, months prior to the feast, she went all out to arrange transport for those from other continents who were constrained financially. It was important to her that everyone she ever knew in her lifetime to be there. Same place, same time.


Then the food was served. The waiters served elegantly in a uniformly white mask .

"DIG IN!" , rang a voice through an intercom . It was, unmistakably, hers.

 Yet nobody found it unsuspecting that she had not made an appearance yet , from the two hours it took everyone to show up and be seated to the time the food actually arrived. They were too distracted by their hunger. At once, their pupils dilated in excitement. It was indeed, a feast fit for a king. With an array of seafood, fresh vegetables, different styles of chicken--baked, stir fried, drenched in sauce, different styles of pastries, curries, and desserts all presented at once.

10 minutes in, it was clear that some guests were experiencing discomfort. More than ten people complained of a sudden tingling sensation stemming from their fingers and toes. Around this point she makes an entrance. And what an entrance it was. In a body con maroon velvet dress, she walked down the staircase to greet everyone, responded with nothing less than a roaring applause and cheers. Half of those present had not seen her in years. The other half who saw her a little more frequently recalled how she had fallen completely below the radar just some months back, withdrawing from all forms of social media and how she had stopped showing up to work. She wore a smirk on her face, as she noticed the confused looks on everyone and watched some guests visibly turn red and sweat. Then, the itching began.

"Just as I thought." the voice rang on the intercom again.

By then, the itching morphed into something worse, --a choking sensation. At this point, some were already on the floor, gripping onto the carpet for dear life. One by one, those who were affected breathed their last breaths. The unaffected ones were too scared to move. They looked at her, startled with how unaffected she was, observing the horrendous chain of events unfolding before her. It was clear that the ambiance had shifted to one of pure panic and terror.

Standing there, she took a couple of seconds before she uttered, in an unbecoming monotone; "There, done and dusted."

With only three days left to live, and millions accumulated in wealth, everything was going according to plan. They had to feel her power, her wrath and, (pardon the pun), a taste of their own medicine.

 Her obsession with knowing who was what , the amount of times she was abandoned by the same people who she imagined would never give up on her-- coupled with her discovery of the short span of time she had to be alive drove her to lunatic ends. The plan had to be completely eradicated of suspicion, and required a mini break from the world. Upon learning of her terminal illness, she worked closely with a team of scientists to concoct a lethal solution which would  kill anyone who was two-faced, spoke ill of her, backstabbing and secretly hated the sight of her. Sure, there were some who she did not expect to see, get affected. But at least now she knew. She knew, and she was content.

..."What are they going to do, kill me?" 





Monday, May 29, 2017

Existential milestone.

For the longest time, my 'mission statement' was to do my parents proud. And I would like to think, to this day, that's what I've managed to do by maintaining my grades to the best of my abilities. But over time I realised, if that comes at the expense of my mental health, I need to sit down and evaluate if it is worth it. Because if I am being honest, my parents never put pressure on me to succeed. It was just my persistence on improving my life's circumstances, and keeping up to some 'brand' I've managed to create  (i.e bold, opinionated, eccentric, cat lady who kept her grades in check) that drove me to the brink of decay.

So that's what coming to Aber was about. Telling myself sometimes it's okay to be less than perfect. And actually believing it. Loving myself. Learning to find a passion and interest which does not revolve around some grade. To learn how to be street smart and adapt from difficult circumstances--not just sit down in shock and wallow in self pity. By learning to travel and opening my mind to the different ways which people live, think, and have different standards of right and wrong, this place has arguably *foofed* some new life into me.

Of all the great things my parents have done for me, giving me an overseas education is what I am most grateful for. I can say with deeper conviction that the law field is where my true passion lies. Today, I can say that I am proud of all I've done for myself. Regardless if it fascinates anyone else. I can say that me, little-miss-play-by-the-rules , did things I did not think I would do, lived life so outside the constraints of a plan, gained weight I worked so hard to lose in the past, .... and survived.

You cannot put a price on something like that.
 It's just a feeling of accomplishment.
 Something like an existential milestone. 

Monday, May 22, 2017

Fake people .

"Look. I don't like you and I don't want to pretend to smile at you or be happy to see you". 
Said nobody ever.

Instead, the more preferred course of action would be to fake. In the name of being 'civil'. It's a pretty clear cut situation.

You do not like someone's instagram profile because they are too self-absorbed, you stop following them! Not subject yourself to further annoyance every time something is posted then laugh about them.

You don't like someone's voice or music? You just stop playing the video! not make an effort to watch the entire thing, intentionally diss and discredit every compliment they receive , or show it around and laugh about it.

You don't like what someone did to you? You tell THEM! instead of the ten other people who did not even know what the matter is, in order to get their vote on your side to support your bigoted opinion and validate it as being right without hearing two sides of the story.

You don't like what someone is wearing because it is too revealing or outrageous by your standards? well plot twist , the clothes are not on YOU ! :) you would not be able to pull it off half as good anyway.

But no. 

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Monophobia

Monophobia is the fear of being alone. If I had to dissect what exactly is terrifying about it I can't put my finger on it. Is it something I attribute to being the youngest child and needing to feel heard/important/be checked up on constantly because that is how it always just was? It's not a one way street because I always give that to people. But I've learned that there are more people out there who are not wired that way. It does not make them bad. In fact, my presence in their life is refreshing because nobody has taken that much time to put their well being above anything. However, even though I wanted to deny it at first--doing all of that makes me want to receive a little in return. 

It's not like I never had it. There were people who would go above and beyond for me. What did I do about it? I took it for granted. I did not stop to think that the kindness was a conscious CHOICE made by people even when they did not have to. I did not open my eyes to how difficult I could be especially when I get into a condescending mode to win an argument which I should have let it slip by. Or make them make decisions for me because of how indecisive I can get, even for the smallest or most annoying things. Or how I would call them up mid-anxiety attack to just bring me back to the verge of normalcy.

But sometimes, even when I throw tantrums and want more than anything for someone to be there ( Not just anybody because I am picky about who I connect with--the list is rather short) it hurts when I can sense that the other person does not even want to be there. The hurt is so immense, that suddenly dealing with the monophobia is not an unattractive option. When interactions have to be forced, when you can read dissatisfied or bored expressions, when you start hearing less about their day, when suddenly they get busy constantly -- coincidentally at the time when you are falling apart and just need to be in the presence of someone or something which feels safe.

You do not want to be selfish and ASK for them to be there against their own free will but you NEED someone genuine to just hug, smile at, say the first thing running on the top of your mind, have meals with-- and this need is magnified when your own "home" feels anything but. So is this called being emotionally dependent? Maybe. But maybe , just maybe , the world needs people like me because what world would it be if everyone turned stone cold as a defence mechanism to not get hurt by people's actions. Perhaps this is just the downsides which come with all the love and entertainment , lol.


Friday, April 21, 2017

When faith becomes self-harm.

If something is not right and you merely cling on to the hope that it 'will get better' some day either by a given date or an uncertain one, (which is worse) I personally think that it's a form of self harm.  Faith, while great , cannot operate if it is sustained on so little. An emotional mess is horrible because while everything might be running according to plan, on time, to the best of capabilities, something just feels off. Missing. All the things which used to seem very fun, loses its appeal.

To talk to someone with the same sentiments might sway the conclusion towards suicidal tendencies.

To talk to someone who has not been on the same boat, might provoke sympathy but not empathy. They just won't get it.

To open up to parents would ellicit confusion because there are bigger responsibilities to tend to.

To be so far away from everything which feels safe or like a hug; then paradoxically be immersed in unfamiliar, unsafe waters is like having a phobia of drowning then having the person you trust force your head underwater and tell you 'It's for your own good'. So will things be right? I don't know. But they tell you it works out when you do not care so much about it. But does it not suggest you've given up on it when you don't care so much about it? So what's the point of things getting better when it does not matter anymore?


Monday, April 17, 2017

Scratched glasses aren't pretty.

There are only so many songs I can play on the ukulele, so many new movies to watch, so many recipes, so many home workouts, and words I type to complete my assignment before everything loses its spark or significance. I am trying to deal with this emotional turmoil with as limited outside intervention as possible. It's Easter break over here and while everyone has someone to go to or a place to turn to to tickle their imagination fancies, I sit in a tiny room typing words to express my feelings, accompanied only by the sound of pin drop silence and pitch black darkness outside. The extra hours of daylight is great and everything but when night falls it's quiet. ...Too quiet.

A lengthy video call with my sister helped a lot but it opened my eyes to what an unconventional family I have -- or maybe it must be an Asian thing ; love is hardly expressed in words and it's painfully awkward to do. It's a wrong time to be homesick but I've fallen into that trap. (uh oh)

To make matters worse, Somehow I've managed to do it again. Except when the same thing happens repeatedly, it cannot be an external cause , it must be something internal.

I lost/ (am losing?) the moon while counting the stars. But tell me this, don't the moon and stars both complement the beauty and wholeness of the night sky? What would the sky do if it had to choose? It's a painful feeling to cause your own downfall. To unconsciously take people for granted. But don't people deserve to be un-apologetically themselves ? What if by doing so, it hurts others? Do you stand true to yourself or do you change so you don't hurt others ?

It comes down to a degree of how much this person matters. If they matter enough, you would change. Except, I don't know if I CAN change. What if I have become permanently altered this way? What if I've unconsciously made  a band aid, a source of entertainment, an accomplice for crazy plans, an inspiration and feelings of home stem from one source; that I tend to heavily depend on it first before anything else? In that sense, I've screwed up bigtime--because in the process I've neglected many great people whom now don't know where they stand in my life.

There are some damages which are so magnanimous ; I would not even know where to start to repair. An apology is a start, but it's too little. An elaborate letter to explain myself would only seem like justifying my behaviour. Not doing anything to give space seems nonchalant. (Which is far from truth, because I feel deeply affected--it's like a part of me I cannot get back is crumbling before my eyes.)

Maybe it's a straightforward solution, just value more people in your life or else you don't get to complain when they back out. I can do that, I just feel shitty about what I have already done that's all. I've left a scratch in a valuable glass. It can't disappear but it's the starting point of the shattering of that glass. And god forbid, I'd lose it if the glass completely shatters. I'm sorry . 

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The balancing act

How many times do I have to hurt like this before I become accustomed to the pain? They tell you to talk it out but what if your confidante is the source of pain, or by telling--you put the people you care about in a worse off position than they already are?

The battle becomes to tell and free yourself at the expense of your loved ones' worry or to keep silent and hurt yourself? One bullet. Use it on them or yourself ?

I'm done with feeling like a tool to mediate others' joy but must painfully accept the reality that nobody will ever really be down for me half the way I can be for them. I am done with throwing myself a pity party too. I  want to be heard but anyone who hears comes to the conclusion that it's not that big of a deal or at least makes it sound that way. Then I end up double the level of hurt because it's from the people I don't expect it to come from. I wish I could eliminate my need to be validated by the people that I love.

So much negative energy accumulating in my heart. It is rising up to my head and impairing the way I deal with situations, or interact with those whom I really care about. I wish my plate were bigger to accommodate everything I want to put on it. NEED. Need to put on it.

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Preserving ideas.

We think important thoughts everyday; Some get written, get expanded on. Some of them get forgotten and cannot be recalled. Some get shut down. The latter is a real shame, really.

Imagine all the dead ideas which could have revolutionized the world. Perhaps a new film, a book plot , a new sound , genre of music, a way of making someone feel important. Or something as generic as a to-do list. (pfft)

People lack the confidence to feel, to express. Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that there are standards propagated for everything.

Relationship goals. Dance goals. Eyebrow goals. Booty goals. Dad goals. Ab goals. How you should look in specs. What shade of beige is ideal. So prominent, so critical, so influential that it's hard to, they have the nerve to tell you, 'just do you'.

I think it's great when people encourage someone else's ideas. I think it's sad when someone thinks something they are about to say is stupid or not worth discussion because everyone around them has shown them nothing but criticism and unrealistic ideals to live up to. Kudos to the people who make a conscious effort to do just that :)

*internet hugs*



Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Traits

I'm a poser, a little bit dramatic. I suffer from a self-confidence deficit and narcissistic surplus simultaneously; I care about beauty and appearance a lot more than I wish I did, am often completely disorganized to the point that the people in my life intervene (whether voluntary or not) to help put things in perspective. I overthink well into the future and about things I could have changed in the past. I tend to act in condescending ways to mask how lowly I view myself and not many people have the patience to deal with this. I enjoy arguing with people because that's my way of showing love. (just ask my mom) However, my intense arguments may be interpreted as liking to 'pick a fight' or unable to accept defeat.  I'd always expect the people around me to take care of me. I am fussy about who I would consider dating not because I think I am all that, but once I fall for someone I get extremely vulnerable and crumble at the slightest hint of this person walking out of my life like many have done before. Dealing with me requires a number of things. (although I wish people did not have to 'deal' with me but genuinely accept all the little hurdles that came along with all the good stuff.)

You see, I'm well aware of these flaws. But on the other end of the spectrum, I'm also aware of the traits which make me a valuable friend. I'm loyal as fuck, I'm honest, I'd do a lot for someone who places trust in me. I'd give twice as much as I receive if I see you as genuine. I'll reciprocate your humor and make you blush from my inappropriate pick up lines, which if you were my friend,--will probably be the test subject for. I'll pause my shows for you if you mean enough and remind you of your worth when you feel like a useless speck of dust in a big universe of other more important, prioritized things. 

I'll say yes to almost all your crazy plans just so we'd have a story to tell about our lives--such as going outside in a sleeveless dress at 3 am in negative temperatures; or dancing in a public mall, rapping in a grocery store isle, kissing people in a game of truth or dare, using a line on an attractive stranger then casually walking away, telling you twisted on-the-spot made up stories that keep you up at night, styling you up, teaching you fun ways to workout, make conversation using only my facial expressions, explain my passions and never ending ideas, push you past your perceived limit when it comes to patience/discipline/confidence. I'll tell you as much stories as I'll give you. I'll make you think . I will make you write. Feel. Communicate.
 

These apply for those who have known and then made a decision to exit my life. But. LIKE.

 What I don't get, are people who don't know anything about me yet have issues with me . I know we aren't supposed to care about irrelevant people who do not form your inner circle nor please everyone but it just makes me curious.What did I do to you? Are you cognitive abilities so impaired that you hear stories or rumors and instantly believe them based on your own biases?

*psychology reference, whuddup! * 

I'm only human to be feeling affected by this. The people around me have shown me more of what not to compromise for. Traits which are always going to be embedded deep within my fibres ; traits which not everyone will necessarily be a fan of, but I'll still have to keep --because that's me. But hey If it isn't worth your time then I can't make you stay in my life anymore. I can only apologise if friendship with me was at any point unpleasant or toxic.

Thanks Haish .

Monday, January 23, 2017

Throwback to turning twenty one.

Sometimes I wonder what I mean to people. What role I play in their life. What significant difference it would bring if I just backed out of theirs. It's a good feeling to be valued, and I'm unashamed to admit. It also takes conscious effort to stand out among mediocre friends. An effort I willingly put in, just so I won't be a fading name or face. In that regard, it's also become increasingly awkward to show someone just how much they are valued these days.

With sexuality being an increasingly fluid concept, the line between romantic and platonic can be very easily blurred. That's exactly why birthdays mean so much. It's when you can be all sappy and get away with it. I always viewed turning 21 as, a big deal. Because it's the age of partying, recklessness within limits, sex, relationships, adulthood, driving, planning early stages of career, graduation, etc. Disappointingly, I've come to realise how a lot of these things terrify me and that nothing was supposed to have 'already happened' by 21 like a deadline. Some take longer to adult and that's okay. At least that's what I tell myself.

The older I get the more I feel that valuable things don't come with price tags. If you think about it, it's some of the most simple gestures, such as, a card, a video, a photo album, or a genuinely written letter. I don't think it's a secret how much I love writing. But, having someone write TO ME, now--that's a bombshell.  In fact, I value them so much that I don't even touch cards or letters I receive that much . Because they wrote that letter having in mind that I like these things.

I was just revisiting my 21st birthday photots. It was a very nice one for me (though I can't say that the day had the same effect for everyone) and it really opened my eyes as to who would go the extra mile for me. I appreciate everyone who made an effort to make it a nice day. I have never had a 'surprise' birthday party  thrown for me so I definitely feel blessed.

(some gifts ended up being consumed, oops)










 Thank you guys, for allowing this to happen . Much love. <3 and="" br="" gratitude.="" much="" of="" so="">

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Embracing conflict .

I seriously doubt there's anything more unsettling than people who tell you "It's fine", "Don't worry about it", "It's okay, nevermind " when you can feel with every fibre in your being that it's NOT okay and it will explode in your face someday when you least expect it.

Too many people want honesty from others but don't want to reciprocate, just to avoid conflict or confrontation. I, on the other hand, take great pleasure in tweezing out every uncomfortable splinter; while doing my best to set rationality and emotions apart. Makes me feel like I'm getting down to the bottom of something. Makes me feel like I have control. It annoys people that I use my mildly-robotic-neutral-absolutely-unperturbed tone of voice which makes the other person look stupid for losing their cool and physically turning red from anger .

Amelia - 1, Opponent- 0. ;)

How does someone become so condescending without even trying?

Anyway. The longer you know someone, the more you let that mask of politeness, compromise and formality slip away, and the more conflicts arise. It's just part and parcel of a relationship with someone--be it your family, friends or lover. Just embrace it and have the balls to settle it already.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

2017- Ushering in changes.

Sometimes, it feels like there is a void within which cannot be filled with anything. The things which used to make me comfortable or happy ceased its therapeutic effect. I described this restlessness to a couple of people I consider close to me but the most creative response I received was probably ;


"Do you think you need a boyfriend, then?"
-- Will, with a cheeky smile, and in (complete ?) innocence.

But is it because I cannot be pacified , or because I'm growing up and just have to find new things which work for me? I'd like to think it's the latter.

Everyone wants in on the privileges but nobody wants to put in the work at home. But my eldest sister told me something, and it rings in my head till today whenever I feel like I'm going the extra mile, "You're doing it for yourself. So that you can be happy." THESE words are the reason why I invest in 5 pound toilet paper or a 7 pound bath mat or take out the trash , or clean up the kitchen stove-- honestly sucking it up and doing the damn chore is a lot better than an uncomfortable confrontation with people I have to cohabit with. They might not be bad people. Maybe just very ignorant or selfish at times.

It's not like I am a saint because sometimes I do have guests over and we laugh so loud at odd hours over jokes which are so lame that even we cringe. It's all part of the experience though, innit?

You know what else is? Winter.
I did not go as far as to build a snowman and name it (which if I did, would be named Nat King Cold), but I did get a short video of the whole thing, and maybe a picture holding an ice ball.



What else is new for 2017?
Well there's the fact that I've been  trying to eat healthy for the year as part of my physical, spiritual, emotional and mental health betterment .

 (P/S: these are raw, turned out alright after coming out from the oven)

 Been very bummed about weight gain (5 kgs, don't play k) because lord knows how hard I worked to stay in shape back home. It's a trigger on so many personal levels and it feels like I'm disappointing everyone who I inspired. Ironically, I'm also the most happy and content I've been with my life in a long time . It's like the universe is throwing me all the reasons to be happy and grateful and I'm there like .. "....nope."


In a drastic move, I've given up red meat-- although my dad thinks it is because of beauty purposes ; "Pa, beauty all can come later la". But if something was this important, the natural conclusion is to work on it and not whine and moan about the situation. I feel very enlightened about so many issues concerning food and environment which I never would have given a second to think about back at home. Thirteen days into the year and I've been doing alright.

You know what else is good for health? Surrounding myself with such uplifting and positive people. A lot of times I wonder where would I be without them around. My parents would be so happy with all of them. Our extremely delayed secret santa took place when all of us got reunited again.
Damn my friends can cook.





 Shoutout to Kiran who got me this extremely precious dress--it's just my type . Made me feel like a woman. <3 nbsp="" p="">
So damn thoughtful of her!

I also attempted to bake a cake , which did not turn out too bad given the first attempt. Feels like I'm getting intense mom training with Sindu. 






Have I got my 'mom look' on fleek, or..?


I've also been enthusiastic about learning songs on my ukulele, experimenting with new recipes(part of being healthier is cooking my own meals which is a win-win because going outside in winter is SUCH a put off). I want to learn how to do headstands. I want to take more pictures of places I plan to visit. I want to take more videos--because honestly that's all I'll have left once I go back to Malaysia.

Which, if you think about it , is soon. :/ #mixedfeelings. All in all, this is the year where, I no longer tell myself to get everything perfect because honestly that's a very destructive way to live. This is my year to allow myself leeway to fail. To try. To LIVE. To get out of my comfort zone.

Thanks for reading this pathetic excuse of an update . I know I used to be more opinionated about more things but at least it is not a sad post! :)