unsuitable for the fanatically religious, narrow-minded and intolerant.

Friday, August 16, 2019

I Just Want to Talk About Stuff

I remember the first time I considered going to a counsellor, I must have been, in what, secondary school? When the first signs of self-loathing and self-harm surfaced, I was barely awake. Emotions I never knew would suddenly take over me, as would the sudden need to pry my skin open with the dull-ass blade of my nail clipper, and just as suddenly I would wake up to broken, bleeding skin on my left wrist, and I would expertly take out my alcohol swabs ever so calmly, clean my wounds before washing them and then slapping on skin coloured plasters, before finally piling on wrist bands after wrist bands to cover them up.

I remember I would tell myself, These scars are nothing compared to the pain that put them there... As if to comfort myself. As if to justify these acts - which I slowly realized only left me feeling shittier than before.

And yet, all those times I had a breakdown, I could never bring myself to ask for help. I couldn't even talk about it. Shame, and guilt... Sadness and the anger... Utterly shameful. How could I, a doctor's daughter, be so mentally ill that I needed mental health attention? And I would go on to struggle with this alone, and eventually finding Yoga and purpose in other larger-than-myself causes. If I could focus on saving others, then maybe one day I could save myself.

On 15 August 2019, I finally plucked the courage to meet a counsellor. It took me 15 years to do it. 15 years of shame, guilt, self-hate and sadness. There was a part of me that was yearning to be "cured" after one session. But the truth is, now I am just overwhelmed with a darkness and loneliness that feels all too familiar. I cannot function properly. For some reason, I thought it was wise to book myself a 90 minutes session, which meant 90 freaking minutes of outpouring and sharing. Too much. Now I know, that is just too much for me. Too many memories revisited, too much shame and too many cans of worms reopened. But these were all part of me. I know I have a lot more to work on... I still hate myself, but I also love myself a little more now. And I know that things can get better.

"So these are the things that we can possibly work on..."

So I am just something to be fixed?

"The things, Leandra. Not you. The things are not you."

I am not defined by these things.

``larcenciel

Music: Nobody compares to you - Gryffin

Mood: Sorrowful

10:33 PM

Saturday, August 04, 2018

Dreams

But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed

11:32 PM

Friday, May 25, 2018

In my previous post I had admitted to myself, that I knew I was simply not good enough.

Well, I have since returned from a one week long teacher training which consisted of lots of yoga, meditation and self-inquiry (read: lots of sadness and anger and frustration and disbelief). But I needed it. Even now, I still need it. And yes, it confirmed what I knew deep down -- My teacher said that we all have this TRUTH that's in the background of our minds all the time. We may not consciously know it's there, but it is there. And everything we do, every action we take, every thought we have is a manifestation of that TRUTH, or it is to conceal and deny that TRUTH. For example, if your TRUTH is "I am alone." -- you will do everything you can to make sure you're not alone. Yet, when you do become alone, you would think to yourself, I knew it, I am definitely always going to be alone.

So what was my TRUTH? At the time of the training, the TRUTH I dug in was "I am unworthy," and "I am not good enough". And that is true. That is my own TRUTH. I am unworthy, and so I run away from compliments, I ask instead, for ways I can improve, please tell me what I did badly at, please tell me why I sucked. I can't deal with compliments, - in fact, I cry whenever my bosses or anyone else used to compliment me, because I am unworthy of compliments -- and that is because I am never ever good enough. I am a failure. "See? I knew you wouldn't do well anyway. Why try so hard? Just go for your 80%, anyway you're going to fail."

And that was how my life has always been defined.

Don't go all out, Leandra. Leave room for some error or slack. Anyway, you're going to fail. Anyway you're never going to be good enough.

So what happens now that I know?

Nothing. I might still keep doing things the same way... But like what my Teacher says, You're not hiding it anymore. There is a Power in saying things aloud, or sharing these secrets with others. There is a healing that takes place when you pick out all these hurtful, self-inflicting thoughts and get them out of the way. When you take them out in the open, they lose their Power over you and YOU get to reclaim back your own Power.

Am I hiding anymore?

No. I finally feel light. I feel like I can finally stop holding my breath.

``larcenciel

Music: Call on Me - Ryan Remix
Mood: Light

4:36 PM

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

I Am Good Enough

I need to pen this down.

The past few months I have been digging deep - my work inwards has only just begun. I've always known I had insecurity issues, that I had problems coming to terms with my sense of self-worth, self-love and self-actualization. For a long time, I always had a strong desire to speak up for causes, people, things that could not speak up for themselves. I felt a huge sense of indignation and anger which manifested to so-called action for causes - be it LGBT, animal welfare, vegetarianism, politics so on and so forth - I found myself constantly searching and searching for causes to fight for. As if my life depended on finding someone or something to save. Sounds very grand and noble, but I soon found myself questioning my motivations behind this behavior. WHY? WHY do I need to keep fighting for a cause? WHAT am I trying to prove? WHO am I trying to impress?

And thus, I found this concept called the Messiah Complex which confirmed what I already knew deep down. The Messiah Complex - a state of mind in which an individual holds a belief that he or she is destined to become a savior. This individual constantly suffers from grandiose delusions, and could also be suffering from schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.

But this was not completely right either, suffice to say, I am not schizophrenic or bipolar (or at least, not very) and so I dug deeper. Why do I have this mentality? What does it mean? What do I want to achieve?

And the simple answer came to me one day as I was getting ready to meditate. My mantra has been "I am good enough," for a while now, and suddenly it clicked.

Because I am not good enough, so I need to keep doing more good, even more good for others to become good enough, so I can convince myself that I am worthy enough to live in this world.

And realizing this was just so pitiful.

I have always believed that to sacrifice myself for a greater good, a greater cause was always enviable, admirable and the ideal thing to do. Perhaps it measured the worth of my life. I want to sacrifice everything, even my life itself for a cause. I have to keep fighting, keep fighting for what is so-called right because then maybe, just maybe, I would feel like I am good enough to be in this world. Good enough to walk amongst others. Good enough to be me. Good enough to continue living.

Friends and acquaintances always seem amazed to hear what I do, but what if they knew the real reasons for all of this apparent courage and selflessness?

Working inwards is difficult but necessary. These answers don't come easy and they aren't easy either. Sometimes, I do still wish I could give this life up. I wish I could simply fight for something, and die defending it. Then I wouldn't always be stuck with self-deprecating thoughts and such profound sadness. But everyday I just have to tell myself, work out as much as I work in, that I am good enough. I am good enough.

I. Am. Good. Enough.

And I am enough.

``larcenciel

10:49 AM

Somebody Please Help Me Get Over You

What should I do
Maybe I'll move away
Start somewhere new
I'll let you have LA

I took so much time to reset my life
But in just one look I'm back
Forget that I could have anyone I like
But now all I remember is what we had

Nobody compares to you,
Somebody please help me get over you.
Cos it feels like I've been wasting my time
In all the wrong places, with all the wrong faces
Nobody compares to you.

Nobody compares to you.

``larcenciel

Music: Nobody Compares To You - Gryffin
Mood: Broody

10:23 AM

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Don't Leave Me Alone

The past few months and weeks... more so in the recent weeks, have left me emotionally drained, what with all the emo-nemo-ego-nego drama; and how I am somehow dragged into the centre of it just because I am the most suitable, most available and most convenient to do it.

This idea of convenience... I hate it. Like a cheap, off-the-shelf 3-in-1 coffee which you'd get just because it's convenient - not because you like it. No, you might even feel like it's repulsive - but you take it anyway cos you either have no money to buy your $6 hipster latte or the next shop is 10 miles down the road. That's how I feel I am.

So people tell me that I am the "best" person to do this - because someone else is "too busy", because I am "skillful" at navigating the politics and emotions of people... because I am "nice" enough. Really? If I spend all my time being empathetic and patient with other people, who's going to be empathetic and patient for me?

.......

Only I can save myself. And yet, I wonder, why can't the people I am tasked to save, see that they could actually save themselves too?

``larcenciel

Music: Save Me - Deamn
Mood: Empathetic

2:29 AM

Thursday, June 15, 2017

You Are So Dearly Missed

On 2 June 2017, I woke up to a text from my mom at 7.18am. It read:

Po po Pat pass away at 1.45am

at A. Hosp.

She will be at St Teresa church parlour.

For a split second, the words couldn't register properly. I re-read the message at least thrice, and even before the weight of the message sunk in, I called my mom to ask her what the hell happened. She didn't have much information at that time. She didn't have the details of how she passed away. Neither did she know what time Popopat's body would be ready at the parlour. For the first time, my mom told me, she didn't know what to do. She said, all we can do is wait now. She told me she would update me again.

I don't quite remember what happened when I hung up the phone. I remember crying a bit, frantically searching my phone to see the last photo I took with her - I found it, exactly a month ago on 2 May. I remember seeing how frail and skinny she had become over the past few months. I remember how I told her goodbye that afternoon, and that I loved her, and I'd bring her out for that dinner we never got round to having together.

I thought I could be rather eloquent in writing this, but the words just can't seem to come out now. I thought I would be able to recall past memories with her, from when I was young in Australia and in Singapore, to recent times. Now, I can scarcely remember her voice. These memories are getting hazy, slipping away, slowly but surely... I just can't reach them anymore. All I remember, is her telling me how much she loves me every time I see her, and her unwavering belief in her faith. So all I can do now to stay connected to her and her memory is to pray. Yes, me - the one who went from going to Church once weekly, to detesting and criticizing the Church, then to being "agnostic" and less angry about it, to now - praying. Praying with every fibre of my being and heart, hoping beyond hope that these thoughts will reach Popopat, wherever she may be now, so that she will never, ever be alone again.

"Can death truly separate us from our loved ones, if you love someone, aren't you already there?"

Popopat, you are so, so dearly missed.

``leandra

Music: Break My Heart - Hey Violet
Mood: Sad

1:42 AM

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Two-Faced

After over a year of working in politics full-time, I finally understand the truth behind the quote I read a long time ago - "The word 'bi-partisan' means some larger-than-usual deception is being carried out." Everyone is partisan, or preoccupied. There is no in-between, there is no apathy and there is certainly no impartiality. It is in our nature to judge, that's why 3-seconds modern services, like swiping dating apps based on photos, can thrive so well.

If I could get a dollar every time I hear someone say, "I am not political, I see whether it's good for the people. As long as it's good for the people, I am okay." I will be richer than the LKY family now. Initially I felt angry hearing such things, and I felt compelled to painstakingly explain to them how self-deceptive and damaging that mindset could be - which of course, may not always end on a positive note. These conversations, though, have been useful in uncovering their underlying prejudice, motivations and principles. Eventually, you will get to the part when they unwittingly reveal their partisan-ness, whether it is for the incumbent, opposition or whatever independent party.

So the lesson learnt is this - in general, people hold a certain mindset or opinion from what they have heard from what they deem to be credible sources, coupled with an incident or two that provides confirmation bias, and most importantly, their final judgment is shaped by their own personal motivation. Some of them decide they are apolitical because politics is "dirty", and is beneath them, for they are pure and good. Some of them claim they are apathetic, because not having an opinion is much easier to defend than having one. Some of them say they are impartial, because they need to execute their personal narrative that they are rational and logical individuals borne from a strong education and professional background.

And these factors are what make up this larger-than-usual deception. No one can be bi-partisan. As long as you are a citizen in a democratic country, you are partisan. You have to cast your vote, and when you cast your vote for whatever party, you have to live with the implications of making that decision - not just the governmental and policy implications but the more intimate, psychological implications that you and you alone experience.

``larcenciel

Music: Castle on the Hill - Ed Sheeran
Mood: Apolitical

12:47 PM

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Killing, Stalking

5 months on from when I first read that crazy-ass manga, the story has developed quite a bit. We're in Season 2 now, and their relationship has progressed quite significantly. From sheer hatred and useless pining to some kind of perverted concern and measured attraction for each other. And when I say that their relationship has progressed, I mean like, murderer created a whole big bang situation for murderee to murder a victim together. It's his version of "date night". But yes, still no sex. Because author needs to prolong the climatic moment for as long as possible... -_-

Most importantly, murderer has gotten way hotter than in the first few chapters of the manga. The author got a new drawing software, or maybe better artist assistants. Either way, the manga is looking way better now. Well, we all improve - some of us improve over time, some of us "improve" back in time. The present, the past... Which is better?

``larcenciel

Music: I Only Miss You When I Breathe - Christina Grimmie
Mood: Sleepy

1:14 AM

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

I Keep Looking Back for a Miracle

Picked up a crazy intense manga recently - Killing, Stalking. About two men who are just filled with hate and despair. The only difference is how it manifests in them - one is a murderer and the other longs to be murdered. By some messed up twist of fate, they live together. Or should I say, murderer dude kidnaps and lords over murderee.

If that's not messed up enough, murderer starts to project his younger (and we later learn, abused by father, tormented by mother) self onto his prisoner. Murderer starts acting as both his father and mother, torturing his victim, and then caring for him thereafter. There are no overt rape scenes yet, but some sexual skirmishes, which may allude to the highly possible suspicion that his mother used to sexually abuse him too. How about the prisoner, you ask? He's basically been bullied and sullied all his whole life, but he doesn't do anything about it. He feels sorry for himself, but not sorry enough to get his shit together to fight for his life. Nope. He submits. He gives up the idea of escaping, fearing how murderee would torture him if he was caught. He blames everything and everyone but himself for not having the courage to flee, even though there were so many opportunities to. He wanted to follow his heart - but that's impossible of course. How could someone so spineless and useless have a heart?

I hate reading this manga. There is no hero in this story. It's just two very fucked up characters in a fucked up world, doing fucked up things and fucking with each other. But I can't tear away from it. There are no heroes... No... But that's what makes it so terrifyingly real. In some way, we have all been part of or have been through toxic relationships like this - maybe not to the extent of physical torture, but the emotional and psychological trauma don't make it any less frightening.

And that spineless, useless prisoner? I feel... for him. There were so many open doors in my life, but all I fell back on were excuses, and the pathetic feeling of sorry for myself. There was never a prison, only my shit self.

Maybe that's why I hate this manga so much.

Mood: Depressed
Music: I Won't Let You Walk Away - Mako

1:41 AM

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Fight Song

Can you believe it - I am married?

Life has a funny way of turning out... Here I am, at 28 years of age, married to a guy, working OT every goddamned day in a corporate shithole I don't even know what I am working for anymore, and trying to pay off my house debt.

Basically I am now everything I told myself I didnt want to be when I was 18 years old.

What happened?

Life did?

Why didn't anyone help me out of my own consequence?

The lure of normality was just too attractive to resist.

That must be it.

``larcenciel

11:59 PM

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Even though we broke up I wish you nothing but the best...

And if you see this could you somehow let me know too?

You're always the one still haunting me & my thoughts everyday...

I found a flow hart you drew... And it said, you will be back.

Would you?

http://thoughtcatalog.com/k-m-banter/2014/02/even-though-we-broke-up-it-doesnt-mean-i-love-you-any-less/

5:27 PM

Sunday, July 07, 2013

Back and Forth

Everytime I dream about you my heart and head hurts. Splitting. As if I should also split up my heart and head so I could live both my past and present. It's like having one foot still in the backdoor, and the other in the front door. I miss you with all my heart... When I don't think about it, it's okay. When I do, it's not okay. Not okay at all. And I'll feel like it was just yesterday I made that decision to destroy the love we had... And I'll feel like I made the worst decision in my life... And I'll feel like I could somehow turn back time and undo all that. But it was always about how I felt, about what I wanted, about what I could do, could not do. Love should be kind and gentle, but did I made it cruel and selfish for you?

Soon I will make a commitment that we had promised to make to each other - just with another. And as long as you never appear in my life again, as long as you never see me again, I will never have to look back at you again.

11:21 PM