A life changing trip. I'd never travelled beyond the continents of Asia & Oceania, so to visit North America, more specifically, New York City in the US of A was such an exciting prospect for me. I remember being apprehensive and excited simultaneously prior to my visit. I was worried about the firearm situation there and safety. And while on hindsight, NYC was not the safest city I've ever visited (I witnessed a fight break out in the subway station), I was never put in harm's way during my trip there. I never got catcalled or had dodgy people approach me.
I was able to fulfill my childhood dream of travelling to the States, to watch a musical on Broadway (Anastasia, no less), meet a Broadway star I've been fangirling about since forever, see the Statue of Liberty, appreciate artpieces by the masters that I never thought I'd see in my whole lifetime (the whole Van Gogh collection, Picasso, Monet, Rembrandt etc). It feels surreal to think that I was able to even see so much art on a single trip.
There's still more I want to do in New York. One day, I will return for you.
Saturday, 8 December 2018
Friday, 23 November 2018
3 Academic Years
So, I've completed my third year of studies. It feels surreal. On one hand, it feels like the year just whizzed past, but on the other hand, I can barely remember what happened during the academic year, especially in the first semester.
With each year in uni, it feels like I'm entering a completely different chapter of my life. Unlike my earlier years in secondary school and JC, I felt like each chapter lasted for 2 years. The past 3 years of my university life have been so vastly different from each other, it feels strange that they all happened consecutively. The first one was a year of exploration and discovery. If I had to summarise it in a single word, I'd say joy. It was a year of frequent, consistent joy. I guess that's how it is with every honeymoon period, be it with a place or person. With everything around me so novel, I was constantly enthralled by the newness of it all.
The second year was, overall, a rather gloomy and oppressing one. It start off with a bang when I embarked on my inaugural solo trip to Japan, a trip of many firsts. My first trip to Japan, my first ever solo trip from start to finish and I got to have such amazing experiences there. Then, I travelled to Taiwan with my sister. It was a The honeymoon ended and I realised not all friends are the same. I put my faith in people who later, unwittingly or intentionally, disappointed me. I lost faith in myself. I began to question my worth and identity, wondering if I was ever "smart". It was a year of emotional turmoil and disappointment. I ended on a good note, with a trip to New Zealand with a childhood friend who reassured me that I had value, that I was worthy of friendship and love.
The third year was a happier year, for the start of it at least. I recalibrated my expectations so that I wouldn't be disappointed. I found people who truly cared for me. But life (or should I say death?) constantly moves in unpredictable ways. I was struck with the misfortune of losing a loved one. I was on edge, anxious for over 5 months, booking multiple last minute flights home, having to reschedule my travel plans at the eleventh hour and feeling the isolation that grief brings with it, which was further exacerbated by being an 8 hour flight away from home. I honestly did not expect any of this to happen this year. It feels like life was trying to hammer into my head how unpredictable it can be by throwing all these curveballs my way. I have absolutely no idea how next year will be, but I'll be here, trying to pave my way through it no matter what.
With each year in uni, it feels like I'm entering a completely different chapter of my life. Unlike my earlier years in secondary school and JC, I felt like each chapter lasted for 2 years. The past 3 years of my university life have been so vastly different from each other, it feels strange that they all happened consecutively. The first one was a year of exploration and discovery. If I had to summarise it in a single word, I'd say joy. It was a year of frequent, consistent joy. I guess that's how it is with every honeymoon period, be it with a place or person. With everything around me so novel, I was constantly enthralled by the newness of it all.
The second year was, overall, a rather gloomy and oppressing one. It start off with a bang when I embarked on my inaugural solo trip to Japan, a trip of many firsts. My first trip to Japan, my first ever solo trip from start to finish and I got to have such amazing experiences there. Then, I travelled to Taiwan with my sister. It was a The honeymoon ended and I realised not all friends are the same. I put my faith in people who later, unwittingly or intentionally, disappointed me. I lost faith in myself. I began to question my worth and identity, wondering if I was ever "smart". It was a year of emotional turmoil and disappointment. I ended on a good note, with a trip to New Zealand with a childhood friend who reassured me that I had value, that I was worthy of friendship and love.
The third year was a happier year, for the start of it at least. I recalibrated my expectations so that I wouldn't be disappointed. I found people who truly cared for me. But life (or should I say death?) constantly moves in unpredictable ways. I was struck with the misfortune of losing a loved one. I was on edge, anxious for over 5 months, booking multiple last minute flights home, having to reschedule my travel plans at the eleventh hour and feeling the isolation that grief brings with it, which was further exacerbated by being an 8 hour flight away from home. I honestly did not expect any of this to happen this year. It feels like life was trying to hammer into my head how unpredictable it can be by throwing all these curveballs my way. I have absolutely no idea how next year will be, but I'll be here, trying to pave my way through it no matter what.
Saturday, 10 November 2018
Block placement
5 weeks. I never thought it'd pass this fast. 5 weeks in this regional town and I've come to cherish my time here. I've learnt so much about working in the school setting, something I won't get to do once I start work. I've met the most amazing people here who are so lovely and sweet. I felt like an adult, just doing work. For the first time in 5 weeks I hardly felt like a uni student because I was working in a clinic and I wasn't fussing about some random assignment or exam.
I guess I'm still trying to put my thoughts together, but for now I'll soak up the atmosphere here.
T-8 hours
I guess I'm still trying to put my thoughts together, but for now I'll soak up the atmosphere here.
T-8 hours
Sunday, 16 September 2018
Summer
"Why aren't you going back for summer?" says everyone who's going back and can't fathom why I'd choose to spend 3 months of my life in my second home instead of my first.
Is it so unfathomable that I'd prefer to stay in my second home during the summer, my first summer in this place ever? Is it so unthinkable that I'd like to experience a summer Christmas? Because the alternative (returning to my first home) is such an amazing alternative, hey?
There's absolutely nothing I'd like to do more than to walk along the corridor towards my flat. As I take each step towards the front door, and in my left peripheral view, I'll see the plants my Ah ma used to nurture each and every day when she could still manage to step out of the house. Or maybe instead, I'll see the space where my Ah ma used to keep her plants, the plants all withered, dead and discarded when she passed. Then I'll get closer to the door, and even before I pull out my keys, I will see the door to her room. When I enter the house and walk towards my bedroom, I will pass the room she and my ah gong used to live it. Each time I walk past that room, I will be slapped with a reminder of its emptiness, devoid of any life. Each time I leave or enter the house I spent the first 20 years of my life in, I will see that room. I will be confronted with the cold, hard truth of how both my grandparents took their last breaths in that room, 6 years apart from each other and how I was absent when it happened.
I'll sit on the couch and listen to the sounds in this house. My ears will quickly pick up that the only language spoken in this house is now English, in contrast to the smattering of English, Hokkien, Mandarin and occasional Malay they used to be bombarded with each day. They will pick up that the mean sound pressure level isn't as high as it used to be.
My nose will pick up the absence of medical balms and oils in the house. The smell of hong you no longer pervades my nostrils like it used to.
At dinner, there will rarely be porridge present on the table. The amount of food served on the table has decreased. The amount of rice in the rice cooker will also have decreased.
When I leave the house, I will no longer be nagged at to remember my phone, wallet, jumper and ezlink card. Sometimes, I will run down half a storey of stairs, only to have to run back up because I left something in the house. I will knock on the door and it'll take twice as long as it used to get the door open because I have to wait for my sister to come out from our bedroom, which is further away from the front door than Ah ma's room.
It sounds like a terrific way to spend 3 months, doesn't it? That's probably why you can't fathom why I'd choose to pass it up.
Is it so unfathomable that I'd prefer to stay in my second home during the summer, my first summer in this place ever? Is it so unthinkable that I'd like to experience a summer Christmas? Because the alternative (returning to my first home) is such an amazing alternative, hey?
There's absolutely nothing I'd like to do more than to walk along the corridor towards my flat. As I take each step towards the front door, and in my left peripheral view, I'll see the plants my Ah ma used to nurture each and every day when she could still manage to step out of the house. Or maybe instead, I'll see the space where my Ah ma used to keep her plants, the plants all withered, dead and discarded when she passed. Then I'll get closer to the door, and even before I pull out my keys, I will see the door to her room. When I enter the house and walk towards my bedroom, I will pass the room she and my ah gong used to live it. Each time I walk past that room, I will be slapped with a reminder of its emptiness, devoid of any life. Each time I leave or enter the house I spent the first 20 years of my life in, I will see that room. I will be confronted with the cold, hard truth of how both my grandparents took their last breaths in that room, 6 years apart from each other and how I was absent when it happened.
I'll sit on the couch and listen to the sounds in this house. My ears will quickly pick up that the only language spoken in this house is now English, in contrast to the smattering of English, Hokkien, Mandarin and occasional Malay they used to be bombarded with each day. They will pick up that the mean sound pressure level isn't as high as it used to be.
My nose will pick up the absence of medical balms and oils in the house. The smell of hong you no longer pervades my nostrils like it used to.
At dinner, there will rarely be porridge present on the table. The amount of food served on the table has decreased. The amount of rice in the rice cooker will also have decreased.
When I leave the house, I will no longer be nagged at to remember my phone, wallet, jumper and ezlink card. Sometimes, I will run down half a storey of stairs, only to have to run back up because I left something in the house. I will knock on the door and it'll take twice as long as it used to get the door open because I have to wait for my sister to come out from our bedroom, which is further away from the front door than Ah ma's room.
It sounds like a terrific way to spend 3 months, doesn't it? That's probably why you can't fathom why I'd choose to pass it up.
Monday, 10 September 2018
Things not to say to someone who is mourning
Ah death. The other half to life. What begins has to end and there's no escaping it.
However, some things we can escape are awkward interactions with people in mourning.
It's not that often that someone around us experiences a tragic loss and that's probably why we don't have these conversations that much. And in many cases, the person experiencing loss is in pain as well and the last thing you'd want is to hurt them with your words. Yet, it happens all the time because of the lack of practice in these situations. So to avoid unintentionally hurting someone you care about, here's some tips on what NOT to say or do to someone who's mourning.
1. "At least" - Don't utter these two words. The connotation behind "at least" is that there is an upside amidst all the tragedy. Don't fucking tell a grieving person what they should be thankful for.
Here's what I think when you say "At least she lived till 80."
So she technically SHOULDN'T have lived to 80? She should have died at a younger age?
Here's what I think when you say "At least she's not in pain anymore."
No shit, Sherlock, I never would have thought of that. You're an absolute genius and my mind is absolutely blown.
I don't need rationality because I am swimming in sadness. I don't need you to try and pull me out, I need to be here for a while. This is someone I've known for the past 22 years of my life. This is the woman who was once a heavy smoker, who gave up her cigarettes during my mum's pregnancy so that I wouldn't suffer the consequences of second-hand smoke. You cannot expect me to be unaffected. You cannot expect me to move on in a flash. This is a person whom I've known my entire life. How can you expect me to act like nothing's happened?
2. Don't spin the conversation into something thankful if I'm not ready to hear it. While being thankful and trying to be positive might work in other situations, it feels like a slap in the face when people try to see the positive side of things if I'm not ready to head that direction. I don't need to hear the benefits of my grandma's death. I'm not asking you to write an expository essay detailing the pros and cons of my grandma's demise. Death is a fucking devastating thing. The fact that you're trying to sugarcoat it with rainbows and unicorns just pisses me off. I need to grieve. Telling me the pros of her demise won't help me if I'm not ready to hear it. In fact, it makes me feel like you think that my grandma didn't deserve to live longer. You seem to be saying that every day she had on this earth was unmerited.
3. Don't expect a good response to "my condolences". I honestly never and still don't know how to respond to phrases like "My condolences to your family". I've seen people respond with a thank you and that's what I've been doing but I don't get it. Fine, I get that you are trying to empathize, but I don't need your empathy. I just need my grandma to be alive and well and in front of me. I need my grandma back. I need to see her every Saturday on our scheduled Facetime sessions. I need her to be there to watch me graduate. I need her to say bye when I leave for work in the mornings and say hi when I come back home from work. I don't need your condolences.
4. Don't disrespect others' beliefs about afterlife. Oh my god. If only I could truly express how much this pisses me off. I don't believe in afterlife. So I don't believe I'll ever see my grandma again. And if I mention that to you, if I mention how devastated I am that death is irreversible and that the last time I saw my grandma before she took her last breath was over Facetime and she was unconscious and I never got to say a proper goodbye again, I do NOT need a religious or theological lecture from you. Never have and never will. Please keep your beliefs about afterlife to yourself and just acknowledge my feelings.
At the end of they day, I just want for you to be there. I don't expect you to say anything life changing that will make me feel better because come on, that's not possible. I don't even need you to be there if it's too much. I'm going to cry and I'll need space. But here's one thing I really DON'T need. And that's for you to say something unneccessary that'll make me hurt more. Be quiet if you don't have anything good to say. I honestly really appreciate that way more than a fucking "at least..."
However, some things we can escape are awkward interactions with people in mourning.
It's not that often that someone around us experiences a tragic loss and that's probably why we don't have these conversations that much. And in many cases, the person experiencing loss is in pain as well and the last thing you'd want is to hurt them with your words. Yet, it happens all the time because of the lack of practice in these situations. So to avoid unintentionally hurting someone you care about, here's some tips on what NOT to say or do to someone who's mourning.
1. "At least" - Don't utter these two words. The connotation behind "at least" is that there is an upside amidst all the tragedy. Don't fucking tell a grieving person what they should be thankful for.
Here's what I think when you say "At least she lived till 80."
So she technically SHOULDN'T have lived to 80? She should have died at a younger age?
Here's what I think when you say "At least she's not in pain anymore."
No shit, Sherlock, I never would have thought of that. You're an absolute genius and my mind is absolutely blown.
I don't need rationality because I am swimming in sadness. I don't need you to try and pull me out, I need to be here for a while. This is someone I've known for the past 22 years of my life. This is the woman who was once a heavy smoker, who gave up her cigarettes during my mum's pregnancy so that I wouldn't suffer the consequences of second-hand smoke. You cannot expect me to be unaffected. You cannot expect me to move on in a flash. This is a person whom I've known my entire life. How can you expect me to act like nothing's happened?
2. Don't spin the conversation into something thankful if I'm not ready to hear it. While being thankful and trying to be positive might work in other situations, it feels like a slap in the face when people try to see the positive side of things if I'm not ready to head that direction. I don't need to hear the benefits of my grandma's death. I'm not asking you to write an expository essay detailing the pros and cons of my grandma's demise. Death is a fucking devastating thing. The fact that you're trying to sugarcoat it with rainbows and unicorns just pisses me off. I need to grieve. Telling me the pros of her demise won't help me if I'm not ready to hear it. In fact, it makes me feel like you think that my grandma didn't deserve to live longer. You seem to be saying that every day she had on this earth was unmerited.
3. Don't expect a good response to "my condolences". I honestly never and still don't know how to respond to phrases like "My condolences to your family". I've seen people respond with a thank you and that's what I've been doing but I don't get it. Fine, I get that you are trying to empathize, but I don't need your empathy. I just need my grandma to be alive and well and in front of me. I need my grandma back. I need to see her every Saturday on our scheduled Facetime sessions. I need her to be there to watch me graduate. I need her to say bye when I leave for work in the mornings and say hi when I come back home from work. I don't need your condolences.
4. Don't disrespect others' beliefs about afterlife. Oh my god. If only I could truly express how much this pisses me off. I don't believe in afterlife. So I don't believe I'll ever see my grandma again. And if I mention that to you, if I mention how devastated I am that death is irreversible and that the last time I saw my grandma before she took her last breath was over Facetime and she was unconscious and I never got to say a proper goodbye again, I do NOT need a religious or theological lecture from you. Never have and never will. Please keep your beliefs about afterlife to yourself and just acknowledge my feelings.
At the end of they day, I just want for you to be there. I don't expect you to say anything life changing that will make me feel better because come on, that's not possible. I don't even need you to be there if it's too much. I'm going to cry and I'll need space. But here's one thing I really DON'T need. And that's for you to say something unneccessary that'll make me hurt more. Be quiet if you don't have anything good to say. I honestly really appreciate that way more than a fucking "at least..."
Wednesday, 22 August 2018
Things I don't tell my mother
The screen flashes and then an image appears and stabilizes the lights.
"Hey. How are you?" I ask.
"Hello! We are alright, how are you?" my mother chirps.
I'm bad. I'm feel terrible. I spent one hour bawling on Saturday and another half an hour crying my eyes out today. In between, I've been falling asleep with tears streaming down my face.
Instead of saying any of this, I pull my lips up the sides of my cheeks, trying to manage a smile. "I'm alright," I reply.
"How's uni? Anything out of the ordinary happen?" my mother responds.
I've zoned out of lectures or my study sessions. My emotions change so fast, one minute I'm crying till my eyes go crimson and the next minute I'm laughing so hard my cheeks blush.
"Uni's fine. Nah, not much has happened. How's the fam?" I respond.
"We're alright. Really tired from today, cos we had to wake up early in the morning. Your dad's asleep. Anyway, would you be interested on going on a family trip with us in December? How do you feel about another trip?" my mum asks.
"Hm, I might be busy. I'll have to check back and let you know if I can make it. But if I can't, you guys go ahead," I say calmly.
Also last year I went on what is currently known as the worst trip in my life. I fell out with the so-called friends I went with during the trip, one of those people included my housemate. I contemplated moving out. I cried a lot because I felt so lonely in the aftermath of the chaos. I was petrified at the possibility I had no value as a human because people I thought I trusted actually chose to leave me. Around that point of time, I got dismal grades from uni and cried because I questioned if intelligence was still my thing. Prior to that, intelligence has always been my thing. That was what I was best at in the family. I topped my class during PSLE, I topped my class in JC. So after losing friends and receiving my grades, I was in the process of questioning my value as a human being.
"Alright. Keep me updated. You look tired. Have you been busy?"
"Yes, I've just had more uni today so it's been tiring."
And I probably look more tired than usual because I've been crying myself to sleep for the past 4 nights and well, I was wailing my heart out two hours before I called you. I'm still grieving. I don't know how to get better. I wanted to call to see your faces and hear your voices and I wanted to talk about how sad I am. I wanted to talk about the pain of losing Ah ma. I wanted to tell you how much I'm hurting. I want to tell you about how guilty I feel. For not being there during her last day. I wanted to tell you about how I just suddenly fall apart and break down, and how hard I try to keep myself from doing that in uni. How tiring it is to do it. I'm emotionally exhausted. I wanted to ask you to tell me how to make it go away. How can I stop crying. But seeing you now, I can't bring myself to say it. How do I tell you these things and not feel guilty about making you worry from far far away? I can't. So I'm swallowing these words, because the last thing you need is another burden on your shoulders. The last thing I want is for you to spend your hard earned money and waste your scarce amount of free time to visit me when you could be spending that money and time relaxing on a vacation that you are in such terrible need of. The past 5 months have been hard for you and dad, of this I am aware. As your oldest daughter, a legal adult, I know better than to make you worry for me. You don't need that.
"Ok, go get some rest. We'll talk another day?" she advises.
"Yup, ok mum. Bye mum, bye sis." I reply.
"Hey. How are you?" I ask.
"Hello! We are alright, how are you?" my mother chirps.
I'm bad. I'm feel terrible. I spent one hour bawling on Saturday and another half an hour crying my eyes out today. In between, I've been falling asleep with tears streaming down my face.
Instead of saying any of this, I pull my lips up the sides of my cheeks, trying to manage a smile. "I'm alright," I reply.
"How's uni? Anything out of the ordinary happen?" my mother responds.
I've zoned out of lectures or my study sessions. My emotions change so fast, one minute I'm crying till my eyes go crimson and the next minute I'm laughing so hard my cheeks blush.
"Uni's fine. Nah, not much has happened. How's the fam?" I respond.
"We're alright. Really tired from today, cos we had to wake up early in the morning. Your dad's asleep. Anyway, would you be interested on going on a family trip with us in December? How do you feel about another trip?" my mum asks.
"Hm, I might be busy. I'll have to check back and let you know if I can make it. But if I can't, you guys go ahead," I say calmly.
Also last year I went on what is currently known as the worst trip in my life. I fell out with the so-called friends I went with during the trip, one of those people included my housemate. I contemplated moving out. I cried a lot because I felt so lonely in the aftermath of the chaos. I was petrified at the possibility I had no value as a human because people I thought I trusted actually chose to leave me. Around that point of time, I got dismal grades from uni and cried because I questioned if intelligence was still my thing. Prior to that, intelligence has always been my thing. That was what I was best at in the family. I topped my class during PSLE, I topped my class in JC. So after losing friends and receiving my grades, I was in the process of questioning my value as a human being.
"Alright. Keep me updated. You look tired. Have you been busy?"
"Yes, I've just had more uni today so it's been tiring."
And I probably look more tired than usual because I've been crying myself to sleep for the past 4 nights and well, I was wailing my heart out two hours before I called you. I'm still grieving. I don't know how to get better. I wanted to call to see your faces and hear your voices and I wanted to talk about how sad I am. I wanted to talk about the pain of losing Ah ma. I wanted to tell you how much I'm hurting. I want to tell you about how guilty I feel. For not being there during her last day. I wanted to tell you about how I just suddenly fall apart and break down, and how hard I try to keep myself from doing that in uni. How tiring it is to do it. I'm emotionally exhausted. I wanted to ask you to tell me how to make it go away. How can I stop crying. But seeing you now, I can't bring myself to say it. How do I tell you these things and not feel guilty about making you worry from far far away? I can't. So I'm swallowing these words, because the last thing you need is another burden on your shoulders. The last thing I want is for you to spend your hard earned money and waste your scarce amount of free time to visit me when you could be spending that money and time relaxing on a vacation that you are in such terrible need of. The past 5 months have been hard for you and dad, of this I am aware. As your oldest daughter, a legal adult, I know better than to make you worry for me. You don't need that.
"Ok, go get some rest. We'll talk another day?" she advises.
"Yup, ok mum. Bye mum, bye sis." I reply.
Tuesday, 21 August 2018
3
Today was the third day that I woke up from my sleep and realised that what happened on Saturday was not just a terrible dream, but rather, it is a living nightmare. The past 3 nights, I wish that when I wake up the next morning, I'll realise that the events of 18th August were but a dream. Often, I dream about the most ludicrous yet amazing things happening to me (like going to Shawn Mendes' concert, meeting people that I've always wanted to meet, going to Canada for placement), only to wake up and realise it was fake. That those things didn't happen. Why can't this be the same then? Why can't this terrible, horrible, god-awful event be but a part of a traumatic nightmare?
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