The best way out is always through

The Bare Facts: 

I did not feel enthusiastic when I was asked to welcome my sis at the airport.

I did not feel any emotion when I saw her after 2.5 months and a 2.5 hour delay.

I did not feel engaged in the conversation we had on the way home. Mum paid her lots of attention while Bro and I discussed vodka and vacations. It wasn’t intentional but it must have been hurtful to she-who-craves-acceptance.

I did not feel any joy upon seeing her unpack and pass out presents.

The Unpleasant Truth:

I wish to get away from her after having seen her for just 3 hours. She hasn’t changed an iota despite making lots of resolutions. Her voice is as shrill and she is as pretentious. She still takes delight in the frivolous. She is only 21 I tell myself.

I know that she is surprised that I seem less than happy to see her. I know that she is deliberately being cordial but distant towards me because she is pissed and trying to pretend that she doesn’t mind that I don’t seem to have missed her. To her disappointment she can sense that life without her around was fairly pleasant. Preferable, frankly.

She remarked twice that she missed China. A land that she repeatedly stressed that she could not wait to leave. I replied matter-of-factly that she could return is she wished to. She tried to suppress the look of irritation on her face. I wanted to enjoy the effect of my barbed comment but I soothed the sting by elaborating that she could always return to visit during her holidays. I don’t know if I did it out of hypocrisy, goodwill, a desire to diffuse any potential timebombs or cowardice.

I am sitting here typing away on her laptop, trying to figure out why I am so mean. I don’t like my behaviour, but I am tired of having to love somebody who I don’t, just because she is family. I know that a little effort won’t harm me, and I did try, but it was too much effort. Hearing her complain about the usual just made me switch off even more. And now she’s on the phone in a saccharine sweet voice. She never speaks like this to me except when she needs my help.

I admit that I am pleased that she is leaving for a 1 week camp tomorrow. Then I will not have to listen to her complaints. I listened patiently for 1 month, giving her advice, offering suggestions, providing encouragement, generating enthusiasm etc. while I was going through emotional upheavals. I truly, naively again, believed that she wanted to make a change for the better, and I wanted to be her guide and support so she didn’t have to feel alone and helpless. She was grateful and sent me excessive exclamations of love and I focused on giving her hope while ignoring the needy and whiny tone. Then she suddenly disappeared when she found friends abroad.

Sorry babe, I will be here for you should you need me but I am also not a spare tyre that you summon when your clique isn’t around. I am not at your beck and call. If I have to disappoint you, from henceforth I will. Enough of the struggles and the drama, agree? Let’s work with your good points and mine instead.

For afterall,

What makes LIFE interesting:

She’s still my sister and like it or not, there will be moments when I will stand for her, by her and with her, and I will love her and like her unconditionally and with all my heart.

Tonight just didn’t contain any of those moments.

I’ll suck it up

I’m happy to crawl into bed in a non-combative state.

Bubu awaits in the morning!

My previous entry brings to mind a story that I like very much, The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. It’s about a toy rabbit that is so loved that he becomes a real life rabbit and there are lessons of love, life and loss and of wishes coming true.

The following extract, especially, speaks to me.

 “What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you…”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

 ”It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand…once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him.

    I want to grow from the ANXIOUS rabbit

   into the REAL rabbit.

This metamorphosis will take time, luck, perserverence, love and faith. But I am ready and waiting and trying

Yesterday as I strolled to the MRT station, everything made sense. I was just taking a very familiar route, not really paying attention to where I was heading and letting my mind wander. As I trudged up the slope, I realised that there is a reason why work is called ‘work’. If it was supposed to be thoroughly enjoyable it’d have been called ‘play’ or ‘ice-cream’. I know it sounds like it’s obvious, but it hasn’t always been obvious to me. I’ve always been more or less aware of myself and of others and thankfully, of the world around me, but I can’t say I’ve been actively, purposefully aware. It was more like an ‘ok I know this needs to be done because of such and such but chill man, as long as I know it’s fine, no action needed for the moment’. I think that is why teachers have always rated my potential as ‘high’ but it was a different, surprising story when it came to actual ‘performance’.

As I walked up the slope something clicked and I realised that I have to take the initiative in life and not just wait passively for things to fall in my lap. And that I had been doing it all wrong all this while. I had been trying to control the events in my life when I should have focused my energies on controlling my reactions to them instead. Because by doing so I would be able to DEAL WITH matters. To make matters worse I had been constantly fretting about the outcomes of certain moves I made without actually being completely certain of my desired moves or outcomes and not exactly working to influence outcomes so that they were in my favour.

It’s like a prisoner who is tied up and keeps thinking about escaping but makes no attempt to spot the knife that is on the table. When she does eventually spot the knife, she hesitates about wriggling her way over to the table to procure the knife so that she can cut herself free. WHile it may or may not be obvious to her that this is one course of action that will grant her escape, she chooses in stead to spend her time hesitating about whether to go over to the table, or thinking about other possile escape methods. Imagine doing this while she is also painfully and acutely aware that she needs to free herself immediately for she is already panicking like crazy and time is running out as soon her jailors will return. Darling I’m not saying I’m like this all the time–I’d have failed to function! But I was like that half the time. Okay, at least two-thirds of the time.

So anyway, after I realised the folly of my ways, after something clicked, after the proverbial light bulb lit up in my head (haha I have this bad habit of repeating lousy writing techniques that I recognise, such as using cliches and being redundant), I immediately felt this incredible lightness of being. What was holding me back was myself.

Change, move, go. Take life as it comes. Make sound decisions. Strike while the iron is hot.

*cue light bulb flickering on in Squish’s head*

I wasn’t sure which direction to move in yet but I felt that if I was patient things would work themselves out. And although my messy brain was going into overdrive, I also felt it settling down, re-organisng, re-grouping.

I was calm on the journey to HarbourFront.

And when I got there, I was interested in shopping. That was a good sign. Because when I am in a blah mood, I don’t even step into my favourite store. That’s what I mean when I say I allow myself to get affected by my emotions. Emotions are not moods. Emotions can change quickly.

And then you guys came by and I had such a good time. Thanks guys

The night was terrible. I slept and awoke, slept and awoke, tossed and turned, pressed close to you and pulled back. There were millions of doubts in my mind, hundreds of possibilities, all seemingly unsatisfactory. I feared going back to school, I longed to go back to school, I wanted to confide in some co-workers, I wanted to tell them that the episode was not of the past, I wanted to tell my parents I loved them, I hoped my Dad would leave us, I felt inadequate, I felt alive and whole…

Steady yourself Squish. You have many mentors if you only know where to look. You have reserves and resources and strength and succour both within and without.

You can talk to people. You can read. You can dream. You can decide.

So now, my options:

1. Learn to live with my current situation

2. Move out.

3. Join the Captains of Lives.

Although my head tells me to go for 1, my heart has been crying out, for too long, to go for 2. and 3. I fear, just as the Velveteen Rabbit does. But if I am shackled to my fear what joy can there be in living? Nothing is ever plain-sailing, and certain;ly I am unhappy for my soul has been starved. Yes, being in a sate of flux can be slightly scary but it’s also a heady, exhilarating and exciting time. Infinite possibilities await!

2. then. Followed by 3. and then 4. Living/Working Abroad.

Let’s put me in order and then you in order while we purchase our bookshelf-lined loft ok darling? We’re gonna have a great life together. I just know it

You need to change your mindset. Accept the children as they are. Perhaps they will become useful and successful even though their English is like shit.

One ear in one ear out. There will always be people who give you advice and people who criticise you. As long as you have done your best, your conscience is clear.

Focus on your relationship with your children. As long as you are happy and they are happy and you enjoy the lesson, that’s good enough. Focus on what you can do, and enjoy doing it!

Education is not only about results, although your bosses focus on that. Don’t care about what they demand.

Out of 100 colleagues that you have, maybe 3 or 4 will become your true friends in need. Certainly there will be those who, seeing you struggle and start to sink, push your head further into the water.

Do what you can and if you really can’t, ask for a transfer.

Mismatches are common–there’re many like you and many who have it worse than you. 

Tell them that you have been reflecting and speaking to educationists with decades of experience who have advised you about the realities and limitations of the profession

The world is unfair so you cannot expect fairness.

Relax and make yourself at home.

I just needed someone who’s been there and done that to talk to me.

To repeat what I need to bear firmly in mind.

To provide a reality check.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

But I also needed someone who is passionate and crazy like me to give me reassurance that I don’t necessarily have to resign myself to fate. And I took a chance and I found her!

Time for me to be a beacon of light for others. A true one. Not one that looks brand-new but is crumbling inside

Daddy,

How have you been?

No really, how have you been? Give some thought to my question before you dismiss me with an ‘Ok’. Really ok? Somewhat ok? Not ok but aiyah it’s too much to discuss and anyway you can’t do anything about it ok?

We’ve never really been able to have heart to hearts. You may feel that I’m such a hypocrite to lambast Mum one day and speak up for her the next. But Daddy, I do that with you too. Cos I don’t truly hate either of you and although I don;t like either of you much, I love you. And with Mum, I can sit down and talk things through, never mind if we understand each other imperfectly.

So why don’t you and I talk? Maybe it’s the whole male macho shit. Maybe Ah Ma never taught you how to express your feelings. Maybe you feel that telling me would only cause me to feel more burdened, or even worse, despise you. Maybe you just don’t trust me. Maybe there’s nothing to be said, not after so many years of silence. Maybe we’re just both too proud and too hot-headed. Maybe you think I’m on Mum’s side. Maybe you think I’m a kid who can’t handle adult issues. Maybe you think no one understands you.

I believe it’s all of the above.

And so through the years, we allow whatever negative feelings we’ve developed for each other to build up, and sometimes we get really disgusted. Familiarity breeds contempt. But always, strangely, at unexpected moments, we bond, we love and we laugh, we share and we care, and all the unhappiness is water under the bridge. Blood is thicker than water after all.

If only life were as simple and as pithy as those trite proverbs.

The reality confronting us is that we are running low on cash and our house is not fully paid-up. We are a bunch of strangers living in a big, silent house. We are suspicious and disdainful of one another. Sis and I seem to be in our own worlds, treating this place as a hotel, Bro seems to spend too much time on the computer, Mum seems to have become very silent (we must applaud her determination to change her lifestyle and attitudes, even if she’s not entirely successful).

I admire how you and Mum try not to worry too much, being consumed by the daily act of making a living. I suppose life was simpler in the past eh, less choices and therefore less fretting. Unfortunatley I’m a worrier, and much as I have tried not to, I know now that the financial burden is taking a toll on each of us in the family. I want to have peace of mind to plan my own future. Holly wants to graduate without a hitch and be able to spend her paychecks on nice clothes and good food. Peng wants to stop being reminded of the fact that not attending uni could lead to less job security. And you know it too, but you choose to escape, to believe that matters will resolve themselves. And I’m telling you they will not.

But hang on. Who am I to say anything? What do I know? Who am I to criticise or advise you? You’re right, it’s not really my place to say anything. But I’ve decided that I have to make certain things clear to you, even though I cannot force you to accept or understand them.

Firstly, I am not crazy. I am not proud of continuing to draw a salary while I don’t report for work.

Secondly, I am unable to fully relax each day or night that I am at home, because seeing you frittering your days away pains and vexes me. Yes, you can tell me it’s none of my business. But unfortunately I’m unable to treat your constant presence as something that’s routine, not when it affects everybody’s morale. Call me calculating and selfish if you must, but you have to try to change your circumstance. Try harder. Stop asking for our understanding when you have given us none. Stop shouting at us to respect and obey you when there isn’t much to look up to. We have been taught that kinship, loyalty and familial love matter, and we will never forget those values, but we are also only human, and for someone who has hardly raised us to expect us to now meekly take care of him and not question him, I’m sorry, I think I’m unable to do so. I’ve always wanted to please, and look where it’s gotten me.

Yes, I grew up on both yours and Mum’s salaries, but only on her love. I never knew of a father once I started Primary Three. It seemed that you became a shadow of your former self. You became distant and miserly. Of course at that age I wasn’t aware that you and Mum had terrible rows over your seeming ineptness and over money, and that you grew to resent each other more and more while your own pride was taking a beating. I didn’t know the extent of your neglect for us for I was still a child with my own childish concerns and pursuits. But I distinctly remember the later half of my P5 year as being filled with pain. Of standing in my room and wanting to smash the lovely lamp that was purple and my favourite, of wanting to run away from home, of tears streaming down my cheeks. Those tears I remember because they were a rite of passage. I’d never cried because I felt emotional pain before that. Sure I’d cried when I fell, when I got punished, or when I didn’t top the level in P2. But this time the pain ate into my heart, and I remember thinking that no matter what I mustn’t allow you and mummy to get divorced. I prayed desperately, and for the first time I paid attention during chapel and sang the Sunday school hymns with gusto.

Of course in time I got over it, because things seemed to stabilize, and to a young child, who cares if her parents are irreparably unhappy with each other, so long as the family is intact? That was what I wished for–to have a happy family. But the cracks didn’t heal, and the strain just got worse, but I coped in my own practical ways. I berated myself for not being a good girl and promised God that I would be good if he didn’t take my parents away. I would spend hours thinking about with parent to follow, weigh the pros and cons, decide what jobs I was going to take up to supplement the household income, think about how cool it could possibly be to be part of a single parent family, threaten Peng and Holly about who got to go over to ‘the other side’ if they didn’t play with me, try to wheedle salary amounts out of you and Mum so I could make the best arrangements for everyone financially.

As you know, the divorce never happened, and here we are in 2006, Mum with nearly 30 years of heartache and grievances, you with 20 years of failure and frustration, and 3 children who love their parents dearly but also wish to break away from all the nonsense.

Daddy, stop telling me that you’re waiting for us to grow up so that you can divorce Mum after so many years of tolerating her nonsense. If you are not aware of it, Mum actually is tired of your threats and says you are free to leave. And then we can have the acrimonious end that we’ve been delaying. You two can become virtual strangers overnight.

The truth of it is that you need us, although I’m not certain that we need you. Yes I am a heartless ingrate. But I have tried speaking to you both, created opportunities for healing, buit I’m past the ‘take sides or be completely neutral’ stage. I cannot bear to let my family break apart any longer. But I am not able to pull it together unless everyone cooperates. And I believe that Mum, despite her ways, has tried. But you are too stubborn to see it. Sure there is emotional baggage between us, but at least I can talk to her. You are like a blank, cold wall. I know you think that leaving us alone is great. Sure we appreciate breathing space. But you’ve kept us far far away for years, so much so that we no longer know how to relate to you anymore.

They say that children model their behaviours on their parents. Well I can see many faults in mine that I probably have picked up or will inherit. Some I will be able to shake off, some will drive me or those close to me nuts. You say you accept me for who I am. I would love to say that to you too. But today I cannot allow myself to just forget about it and keep silent for fear of creating tension and showing disrespect. Much as I love you, we cannot live like this any longer. Already, work has caused me stress. My home environment is another huge stress factor that I haven’t even begun to truly come to terms with. 

I know you will get defensive. All 5 of us are like that. We don’t take criticism very well. We tend to think it’s personal, that we know better already. But I need to say it. (Please bear with your naive and stubborn daughter who is still wishing for a non-dysfunctional family. I am slowly but surely earning to accept and deal with the situation).

1. Put your pride aside and go get a job. Stop creating excuses for yourself. You’ve lived a lie. But there’s still time to be brave, strong and honest. It’s been a good life even if you’ve had to suppress some desires. Even though Mum’s crazy at times, she’s fed and clothed us well, and we have been very lucky. You may want to disagree but that’s between you and your conscience. Also, in this letter I am addressing my concerns about you not her, so we’ll leave her bad behaviours out of the picture for the time being. I am aware that I may be biased as she has shown much love towards her children, especially me, and neglected your needs in the process, and that brings me to my next point.

2. why did you choose to ignore us just because you felt that Mum was neglecting you? What a very spiteful thing to do. You are the most educated of your siblings, and they seem to think you are a wise and successful man, but your school seemed to only have given you hardware, not heartware. I know it must have been very difficult for you to have been retrenched and had to live with someone as demanding as Mum. But she has had her share of bad karma too, so why don’t you just put your fucking pride aside and look at things positively? Why are you so petty and childish? How can you advise your children to grow up to be good, responsible citizens when you are hardly a role model yourself? Where were you when I needed your advice and opinion? You were hardly the strong, silent type. All you did was go out, work, come back and eat a lot, watch TV and take 1 hr-long showers. You never paid for meals out, never planned a surprise for your wife or kids, never asked about our days at school, never gave polysyllabic answers, never told interesting stories, never had an opinion on the pop star on TV or the PAP, never woke up early to help Mum prepare us for school. Maybe you didn’t know how too, but let’s face it, truth is that you didn’t really care to. You wanted everything prepared for and served to you. Your main grievance towards Mum is that she doesn’t cook lavish meals for you anymore and expects you to find your own dinner. Not the best way of performing her wifey duties I agree, but is that enough for you to loathe her? Let’s be reasonable here. It’s been 20 years. Because of Mum’s love and care I’ve made it thus far. You didn’t speak a word about my scholarship except to tell me to use the Government’s money because it’s the smart thing to do. You might as well have been absent from my life. When I was in Sec 2 I had a row with you and we didn’t speak for 3 months. Those were terrible days for me, and I would cry myself to sleep. I’d think about it at school and I dreaded taking the bus home and having to face you. I was wracked with guilt and wondered how I could apologise. But it was not only fear that kept me back. It was also because by then I had a sense of how unfeeling you were, how you chose to avoid problems, how you were a self-righteous bastard.

3. How much is pride worth to you? Can you live on pride? You were the first to criticise Mum for purchasing this condo. I know that you have little ambition in life. That you’ve always wanted an easy job where everyone takes your orders and a small flat to retire in at 50. But life has a way of throwing curveballs in our path. Now that you’re almost 60, you’re sitting at home each day, bored beyond your wits because you have few hobbies and not enough money to go out gallivanting each day. But haven’t you enjoyed staying here? How could you be foolish enough to think that Mum will be able to pay the bills each month? I know you think it’s shameful to ask your own son for money. But you’ve actually done it. To me it’s strange that you don’t find it shameful to wait for your wife, who too is unemployed and spending her own money on treatment for her leg, to provide every meal. She is fasting, and yet she has to prepare meals for you or buy them from the coffee shop down the road. When she couldn’t walk properly, you went around with a black face because she didn’t cook. Who can believe that your life is miserable when your belly keeps expanding and you continue telling relatives that you are so swamped with work? When your wife tells you that savings are running low, you don’t say a word. When asked about your job hunt, you say you’ve tried everything, but all I see are clippings of cushy positions. You sleep at
   3am, wake at 11am and then spend the day playing solitaire. You quit three jobs within the span of 6 months, saying your bosses are assholes. Help me, I can’t make sense of this! I have tried, but each time I empathized, you took it as a sign that I condoned your actions. And you would advise me to just grin and bear it at work!

4. It’s ok to have low self-esteem. Many people have that, and I am not always secure about myself. But if having low self-esteem means having to shout loudly at others and resort to using all sorts of vulgarities, if it means criticizing your successful relatives because you think they look down on you, but you don’t actually do something to prove to yourself that you are worthy of praise and admiration or that you are actually comfortable in your own skin, then you are very sad indeed. The world is full of jackasses, but please stop to think about what you can offer the world before you begin your next rant.

I am not saying there’s nothing good about you. But you can be so much more! You can be a witty and doting father. And we can have chicken rice and chuckle about Mum’s ‘one-kind character’. I know you want me to be happy. And I will be, and I hope you will be happy with me. Stop thinking about striking 4D and just start being a hardworking person ok? Mum fell in love with an image she had of you, and although you may not have lived up to that image, you don’t have to keep disappointing her. You can still keep your promises, just by doing simple things like showing more concern for your son, listening to her complain about her pains for five minutes without saying it’s all imaginary, offering to buy dinner, doing the dishes with less gallons of water…Believe me these effortless acts will make all the difference in the world! And once you change yourself you may find that she is much pleasanter to live with. And remember, you are married after all. There must be some great force that brought you together and is keeping you together!

I’m speaking to you as though you’re my peer and that is very disrespectful isn’t it? But I don’t know any other way. Each time I tried to talk to you, I ended up shutting up or crying, because you went too far with your authoritative figure stance. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been well brought-up. I believe that I would not have been held back by so much protocol. I think my sister is foolish to form an alliance with you just because you two have a common enemy in Mum. Listening to the two of you,with your self-righteous and self-congratulatory banter is too much for me. I admire Bro for being able to live with you and Mum day in day out with no escape hatch. You can him a useless good-for-nothing. Like father like son remember?

At least he has ideas. You have random scribblings and lottery dreams and a mindset that refuses to budge because you are too set in your haughty, blinkered ways.

If I allow myself to dwell on all the unhappiness, I may become a bitter old lady like Mum. After all we are often blind to our own faults, and self-reflection can be too close for comfort. I am also no sage or saint. As such I hope that with this letter I close this chapter. For whether we like it or not, we can choose our friends but not our family. 

But please dad, I am still hoping for the day when we all put our differences aside and work hard towards a greater good. We need a radical shift in attitudes. Every single one of us. You have to trust me on this.

Let’s have a heart to heart one of these days?

Best,

Da4 Hai2

Hello darling.

This is the not the first blog that I’ve created, and I’ve a sneaky suspicion that it won’t be the last as well. I think throughout my life, I have been aware of what needs to be done, whether consciously or subconsciously, but I have, for some reason or another, not gone forth and ‘put things right’. I have waited for matters to resolve themselves, and because they did, however imperfectly, I have allowed myself to just carry on floating along, drifting down a stagnant pool that’s moving only because of gravity.

Check out http://eliminatethenegative.blogspot.com/

I don’t know how to describe it. It’s really honest and also accurate, but also laughable and a little tragic. I started it when I was feeling unaccomplished in every aspect of my life and decided to pull myself together. It worked for awhile That was my attempt to ‘get my act together’. I’m very good at psyching myself up, so I think I ought to be some counseller or cheerleader or orientation group leader or columnist for disenchanted young women haha, but it’s TIME to stop evading the problem.

To really be myself.

To stop caring what others think. I think it’s true. Somehow I DO care. What is it I’m trying to protect anyway?!

To take the proverbial bull by the horns.

For in order to be in control, I need to take control.

And I have hardly taken any small steps necessary to piece together larger steps, a pathway. For TOO LONG I have been plagued by the same problems and finally, things have come to a head. Which, despite my anxiety, is GOOD. I’ve been diagnosed as having burnout. That’s what Dr Lui reckons. He doesn’t think I cna be considered clinically depressed yet, which I agree. Otherall I still function, albeit in a diminished capacity. It seems a fair enough assessment, from what I read at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burnout_%28psychology%29 I am also, as I said, grateful that he listened and ackowledged my concerns despite being tired. That helped me sleep well last night

I can’t blame my lot in life, and I don’t. I’ve probably squandered some opportunities and made some not-too-savvy decisions, but all in all it’s been a charmed life. Even as I feel a surge of conflicting emotions within me now, for the first time I feel like maybe, if this time I really want to take control, I will be able to. Certainly I have felt like that in the past, as in, time periods when things seemed to perk up and life was liveable. But looking back I think those were moments when something or someone new entered my life and I got simply got happily distracted. That leads me to conclude that:

Although I may not be able to always move on, I have to keep moving. New experiences, new thoughts, new stimuli to keep my brain and body buzzing. I’ve more or less remained in my little pond for years, splashing around feebly or venturing out only to return to my comfort zone. Crying is therapeutic but it is depressing as it doesn’t change my circumstance. I know what you mean when you say it’s all very simple, but I haven’t learn to dissociate and distance myself from the years surrounded by suicide, home conditioning, emotional baggage and disappointment.

Seeking treatment and truly ackowledging my problem is a huge step for me. Before, Charlene and I spent two miserable years swallowed up by self-loathing, fear and self-doubt. It took me a lot of courage to get out of there, and as you know i still feel I owe it to her to help her out of it too and that from time to time the ‘bad feelings’ return to haunt me. We experimented with cigs, booze, bingeing, purging, anorexia, overexercise, not exercising at all, vampirism (ya know, stay up all night and suck the life outta each other). We cut class, cut off our social networks, cut ourselves down to size cos everybody else, even those we detested, had their act together better than we could ever hope to. I remember feeling so helpless and useless, and yet also feeling perversely proud that I had this problem, and also thinking that I’m too smart and successful for this shit, and thinking I needed to get out of this nonsense long enough to graduate. Thank goodness I did, otherwise I wouldn’t have met you or had good times as a teacher and I’d probably be in a bigger mess than the one I perceive myself to be in now.

One of the big problems about being bumilic is that a bulimic is AWARE. She knows that she is doing something harmful to herself, she knows she needs help, she desperately wants help, and yet she cannot control her self-destructive behaviours. Having been on both sides of the fence, I shudder to think what I used to do to myself. I would vomit until I felt weak and dizzy and my skin was pimply, grey and leathery. I spent a lot of the tuition money I earnt buying junk food and clothes that sometimes fit and othertimes didn’t. I wrote A+ essays when I was in the mood and got F when I couldn’t even begin a paragraph. I would eat because I enjoyed the taste and texture of food and because I was hungry, and then when I was satiated I would continue eating mindlessly, cramming food in til it hurt to chew and my stomach got distended. Then I would wait til the bathroom was free and I would casually make my way there and stick my finger down my throat and poke, scrape, wriggle, peptalk myself til it all came out.

I’ve seen all kinds of puke. Chocolate is the hardest to get out, cheese stinks and stringy sticky stuff surrounds food that’s begun to be digested. I’ve vommitted til I bled, til I had a sore throat, til I couldn’t stand, til my face grew puffy, til my jaw muscles ached, til i could taste the acid from my stomach in my mouth and my tooth enamel got damaged by it. I’ve on occasion sobbed in front of strangers and resolved never to purge again. That two year cycle was a most horrendous part of my life I hope never to relive again.

People who don’t know me intimately think I’ve always been more or less ok. And I have. I mean, I’ve always been able to hold my life together (they just don’t know about the amount of masking tape I use on the cracks beneath my porcelain skin!). Even though we change as the years go by, who we are at the core should remain intact, for without the very essence or soul that defines us, we are lost, we are different and we are adrift. I have always been a sensitive child (unfortunately in both the negative and positive aspects of the word). I am also bubbly, frank and caring. These are traits that I am proud of, although because of my downward-spiralling, they have also manifested themselves as being too eager-to-please, tactless, moody, selfish etc.

What about those who know me intimately then? In some ways, I don’t really tell them all my poblems, because they all have problems that I think to be far greater than mine. I am not pretending to be someone else. It’s just that I do have my good days when I’d probably make an excellent social activist or brilliant tour guide, and then I have my dark days when I hide away and wait til the storm abates. I haven’t really allowed anyone to know the depth of pain I feel, partly because I always think that I mustn’t make a mountain out of a molehill, and partly becuase at some level I cared too much about how others would react towards me. I know now that it isn’t the best way to live life, to put it mildly.

I have always longed for someone to truly understand me or at least try to, someone who would listen and be there even when things got rough, someone I didn’t have to try to please–he would be pleased with just plain old unembellished me. You came into my life, and I am learning to listen even when I don’t understand, follow even when I don’t agree and love, even when it seems hard to. With you, I decided that I wanted to be completely honest and this is probably why you have seen me cry so much. I feel very lucky that you have decided to love and support me, and I really enjoy loving you right back. Please know that even if you are the one that makes me upset, you are also the same person that I want to comfort me, and everything jsut seems to be right with you around–even fighting has meaning. But much as fighting is necessary if it leads to greater understanding and communication, I’m sure you hate fighting as much as I do. Next time let’s jsut hit each other with bolsters instead or i tickle your armpit while you poke my belly button

I told you that I could be very comfortable and natural around you, and that is the key. Because others don’t necessarily love me, warts and all, I perhaps put on a facade of sorts. I dont conceal who I am, but perhaps I dont reveal much either. I haven’t cried as much as I have the past few days in some time, and it really brings me relief. Maybe sometimes if I feel like being a bitch I should stop to listen to that voice, and then figure out why I want to be a bitch and whether it’s perhaps ok to go with the feeling, rather than just telling myself to ’stop it’. Self-regulation can go too far!

I’ve been dipping into that quarterlife crisis book, and it amazes me that you have said the same things that are being said in the book. How do you know these things? Do you feel a little disappointed that I didn’t take your advice earlier? Baby you know my main problem is procrastination, and being too hard on myself when obviously I am sitting in my own shit. I felt really lost, like I didn’t know what to do despite knowing what was wrong with me and knowing what to do. I had all your care and advice and yet I remained inert

Off hand, this is what I think I need to learn to do with conviction.

1. Be myself.

2. Change my mindset, my attitudes and my expectations. I have been killing myself.

3. Believe in myself.

4. Consider carefully my desicions and stick with them and see them through. If I’m wishy-washy, it’s no wonder I don’t get things done satisfactorily!

At the same time, I gotta be

1. Flexible.

2. Stronger. You will be there to hold my hand, but I gotta move my own legs! (Although for this period I will listen to everything you say. I thank you in advance for your love, patience, guidance and help)

3. A dreamer. Even now, I am bound by my family’s expectations of me, but if I find my own wings, I will be better able to deal with issues as I won’t see them as deadweights holding me back from going forward.

4. A believer who is a realist. I use my heart to fight my mind and my mind to fight my heart. Bodoh.

With these, I will become the better person I hope to be. Everybody has insecurities and concerns, it’s how we manage them that matters. I guess for me, this is the long break that I’ve been waiting for, this is the point when I have hit rock bottom (given my personality and circumstance I doubt I’ll ever become truly depressed, there’s too much fire and hope within me! Even when I want to wallow in misery I’ll realise there’s a beautiful flower blooming or good dance music playing) I’ve always felt like i’m a mess of contradictions. But why mess? How about a special MIX of contadictions instead, a good frothy lively potentially volatile mix that keeps life meaningful and exciting?

If anything, I want to deal better with everything, and not revert to my old ways., It’s gonna take a huge effort, becasue I am easily affected by things and I tend to brood about the wrong things, but I think 24 is as good an age as any to begin to make a difference. I realise that all my life I’ve wanted to please others. Not in a needy, ingratiating sort of way, but because I believe that if i can do a small thing to make everyone happy, the world would be a better place. Noble perhaps, but charmingly naive and misguided. For the world is full of ALL SORTS of people, and I better come to terms with that, or I’m going to DIE. I figure that I still can, however, strive to make those around me happy, by pleasing myself and being the best version of myself.

I’ve known that for some time, but I havent quite accomplished it. By my own reckoning there are some bits of me which really have improved, but I allowed my messy inner emotional self to fester and get in the way of any breakthrough in thought or action. I think it’s time that I really take a GOOD PROPER break and then DEAL with my life. No more running away. I cannot live with this crazy wrangling between conflicting emotions anymore. I already have an arsenal of weapons to deal with my anxieties. But nothing will work if I dont’ get past myself and learn to live with and manage my painfully real gila imaginings.

There is SO MUCH MORE TO LIFE. SO MUCH MORE I CAN OFFER. I cannot miss the woods for the trees. I cannot live in regret. That goes against all of the poems I love  Right now this comes to mind:

What is this life if, full of care
We have no time to stand and stare.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

These are some preliminary thoughts that I have, and I expect that each day I will write about something. I find this letting out quite carthatic. I suppose when you have nothing to hide anymore you can really be yourself and see yourself. I have inherited stubbornness and denial from my mother. I hope that I can inherit her stoicism and her devotion to her family instead. I hope that much as I want to, I will stop hoping for her to change but to truly change my own attitudes towards her instead