Fierceness over Resilience

Every time I run, I remember how strong my mind is. It must be a result of the power songs that I listen to whilst running - but there's also something incredibly satisfying about pushing your body beyond its initial boundaries. Maybe it's the 'Runner's High' speaking. 

During my runs, I am uplifted by numerous power women who sing their anthems of resilience into my ears. It makes me reflect on life, my own sadness and joys in life... my capability, my character. 

That's exactly what happened today, whilst exploring my new London Borough.

Wait, London?

Yes, London.

I realise I haven't been blogging for a long long time, but I am actually back in the capital of diversity and dreams again. It's been a strange 1.5 months living here in the middle of a pandemic. When I graduated back in May, something deep inside of me said I was probably crazy for trying to get a job in the middle of a pandemic and a Brexit transition. I tried to push these negative thoughts away, and didn't start job hunting after a proper holiday of crocheting and gardening.

By the end of August, I started to touch up my CV and Portfolio again. I was ready to go into the battlefield, despite being discouraged by the hundreds of applicants I'd see reacting to job ads I was interested in. To be fair, I didn't apply to an awful lot of jobs - after all, I'm quite a picky one.

Haven't I always been picky about getting a meaningful job, though?

Yes, but I didn't start to truly chase this 'fantasy' until I had a taste of what a 'meaningful job' could entail. I count myself lucky that I managed to graduate on a thesis that is both relevant to the environment and the company I worked for.  And since the middle of July, I've had the chance to join 'Slow Fashion Season' - an annual campaign encouraging people from all over the world to stop buying anything new for 3 months. I joined this campaign as a content creator - nothing I wasn't used to doing in my previous voluntary roles - but soon enough I found myself a new family of fellow boss ladies / change makers. 

Slow Fashion Season hosted a huge community of volunteers across the globe and they wanted to keep growing. Back in September, we transitioned to a "Slow Fashion Movement", meaning we are now a permanent initiative with several campaigns running all over the year. I've had the honour to be part of shaping the "Cut The Seasons" and "Conscious Carnival" campaign... and now I'm also heading a regional Slow Fashion UK team.

All of this sounds too good to be true - but actually it gets better.

Mid-October I got offered a job as a Qualitative Research Executive at a market research consultancy that advocates for diversity, inclusion and equality. By the end of November, I moved to London. I met an interesting bunch of housemates and am feeling quite cosy in my tiny bedroom with way too many colours than I'm used to.

So, sounds like all my dreams came true then!

Kind of, but dreams are fleeting. I am grateful for where I got in life. My career is definitely on the kind of path I'd always wished it would be. During weekdays, I am getting in touch with my own heritage but also expanding my worldview through a socio-psychological lens... In my free time, I am still fighting for environmental justice. I am not giving up on learning, and I am not giving up on creating an impact in the world.

Sometimes, life does get lonely though. Mind you, we are in the middle of a lockdown here in London and I am also aware that I'm currently the only single sibling in the family.

The thing is, my dream isn't to marry just any man. All my life, I've had great resilience. Whatever shit life threw at me, I'd get through it. I've grown accustomed to biting through the sour apple. What I never thought of doing, was to spit out that sour apple, and culminate an environment in which I'd be surrounded by sweet apples.

Resilience is what brought me so close to my career dreams, but there's also some sort of obedience in the word resilience. As a resilient person, you fight against misfortune, but you do not always do so by standing up for yourself. A lot of times in life, resilience meant acceptance of circumstances.

This year, through therapy, I have learnt that I don't just want to be resilient. I want to be fierce. I want to respect myself, which means also demanding respect from others. The keyword is "demanding", because I am certainly not used to that. I am sacrificial by nature. I try to make myself smaller so that others will feel better.

In 2021 I say: let's have some more self-respect. I am worthy, and I have the right to demand when it's reasonable. I am done feeling like I'm always "too much": too emotional, too sensitive, too depressed, too ambitious, too moralistic, too caring. This is the package that anyone who respects me should be willing to deal with - because that's what makes me the fierce AND resilient beauty I am.

The truth

I'll be honest; these days have been tough on me. I'm navigating a new vision on friendships, trying to decide what's good and healthy for me. I also feel like I've been living in a cave the last few days. New hobbies and interests were all good and fun for the last 3-5 months, but now I'm starting to feel increasingly hopeless about life.

I'm working so hard to overcome my adversities, but am feeling terribly alone in this. Currently I am being trained as a Mental Health First Aider. Every time I read about the horrific risks, symptoms and consequences of mental ill health... and how I should be handling these if I assess these in someone, I keep asking myself: who will ever do this for me?

I have less than a handful of people I currently trust to be somewhat vulnerable with, but none habitually. Routine is so important for me to feel grounded - and I don't mean just in terms of tasks (believe me, I am filling my Google Calendar enough with volunteering work, therapy, online courses, working at my parent's shop and job hunting). I feel like all my routines in terms of social interactions are crumbling. My sleep is constantly disrupted as well. It's hard to fall asleep and I wake up from dreams feeling slightly panicky/anxious. The only thing I could count on to remain certain - my future plans - have becoming unrealistic as well due to COVID-19. 

Death is more often on my mind. It's in every song, situation, thought or action I consciously experience. Sometimes I zone out and feel like I'm not really living. I know I'm not going to die anytime soon but I'm suffocating in my own misery despite double the initial dosage of my anti-depressants. Sometimes I disappear from my social media/friends because I'm tired of faking it. I try to stay away from alcohol as much as possible so I don't do anything insensible, but the thought is tempting.

If I die young

"The sharp knife of a short life,

oh well I've had just enough time.

If I die young, bury me in satin.

Lay me down on a bed of roses.

Sink me in the river at dawn.

Send me away with the words of a love song."

These lyrics are from the song "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry, although I prefer the Glee cast version sung by Naya Rivera. Naya recently passed away whilst going missing during a boat ride. At the age of 33, the sharp knife of a short life had cut her out of the blue. Being young doesn't guarantee liveliness, something I have become even more aware of during the COVD-19 pandemic.

All my life I have spent a lot of time thinking about death. As a child, I had a recurring dream where I walked from my primary school to my house, and watched the pavement disappear around me tile by tile. I'd end up floating in a celestial environment, feeling life trickle out of my fingertips as I couldn't move a muscle, whilst hearing the echoes of voices far, far away. 

That dream made me fear the thought of death. It seemed frightening to be somewhat conscious as a spirit, but not be able to interact with the physical world. I didn't know if heaven or hell existed, but something deep inside of me hoped that reincarnation was true. Being a ghost felt lonely and hopeless. At least if life would spring forth in a new soul, new memories could make living past death less painful. 

Fast-forward to my teenage years, I still didn't know whether I should believe in heaven/hell, reincarnation, or nothingness after death. Yet, my depression made me desire it. I've been battling against suicidal ideation since the age of 12. It's been a 13-year victory where I didn't give in - knowing that there was going to be a better life for me as long as I kept climbing. When I say suicidal ideation, it means that the thought of taking my life usually crosses my mind at least once a week. It takes a lot of mental effort to say "no" to that. I have never actually tried taking my life, but sometimes life got so tough that I didn't know what else would be a better solution against my pain.

Especially the last 7 years, I have actively been trying to heal from these negative thoughts through a lot of self-care, therapy and a great support network. It's still hard to say "no" to the temptation of death whenever life or people reject me. My mood swings heavily between depressive anhedonia and avoidant hyper-activity. During my 'hyper-active' moments, I feel like I am the 'real me' who's on top of the world. I'd successfully pursue the things I dream of (whether they are career-related steps or personal achievements) and bite through the sour apples. It's the woman most people like in me: passionate, ambitious, productive and strong. My depressive moments feel like the complete opposite. It's the woman that finds it hard to get out of bed or to sleep early, the woman who just sits and stares all day, the woman who complains too much and emotionally traumatises others due to her fear of abandonment, the woman who's called a pessimist. It's during these moments where I think most about just being a dot in the universe that's taking up unnecessary space; a dot that should disappear. These thoughts are so intense and repetitive sometimes that I lie paralysed in bed, trying to calm myself down.

I know it's hard for people to deal with someone who's depressed and suicidal. I can imagine it is fearsome, or that it confuses them. Over the years I've had people react differently to it:

• Laughter. When I was 13/14, a close friend of mine simply laughed in my face when I told her about my suicidal thoughts. At the age of 24, I've had a man chuckle at me and ask "how are you going to do that". 
• Concern. My closer friends and those who have known me for a while would try to convince me about the beautiful life that's unfolding on my path, and all the people I'd be leaving behind if I took my life.
• Fear. These people feel negatively affected by the way I open up to them, and reasonably so. They fear that if I did take my life it'll be their fault for not stopping me, or they fear not having me in their lives anymore. 
• Anger. Me mentioning my thoughts can be considered as manipulation to some people, or they're just frustrated that I keep bringing it up. My first ex once slapped me (softly) in the face because I said he probably wouldn't care if I were dead.

I know that suicidal ideation isn't something to be taken lightly, nor should I needlessly tell people about this if I know I don't have the intention to act. Every 50 times the thought crosses my mind, I'd probably just be telling someone once about it. Maybe deep inside, my head reacts to my thoughts the same way others have done: a mixture of laughter, concern, fear and anger. Thinking about death has become such a habit that sometimes I don't even take myself seriously anymore. It's just a manifestation of my sadness which sometimes makes me angry. I am mostly frustrated at how long these thoughts have been wandering around, and tired of constantly fighting against them. Rewiring my brain isn't an easy task (it's one of the few things therapy has taught me so far).

Nobody actually reads this blog, but it feels nice to pretend that I'm talking to someone. So, to the ghost that's reading along... know that there's still quite some things for me to do before I leave:

• Leaving something to remember me by. I think what's more fearsome than death itself might be the way one could be forgotten or misremembered by others. Throughout the years I've made sure to gift something hand-made/hand-written to the people I care about, ensuring that if I did die young, they'd have something sweet to remember me by. I don't want people to remember me as a black hole. Letters are sacred to me, and it's the most uncensored type of communication you'd usually get from me. When I write, I forget the world's judgment. This is why one of my biggest dreams before death would be to publish the auto-biography I'm currently working on and a yet-to-be-compiled poetry bundle. I don't want to leave the world without sharing my truth. I don't want to be misunderstood.
• Witnessing the big moments of the ones I love. My sister's start/completion of her master's degree, the graduation ceremonies of my friends (R&M)... I know these are important near-future milestones that they'd want me to witness. I also don't want to influence their studies by suddenly disappearing. There's also my parents' financial situation that needs to be stabilised before they retire. My two brothers currently seem content with life, so I think they'd be fine. 
• Leaving a mark. I'd like to think that some of my actions have led to a better world in terms of environmental sustainability and mental health. My mental health fundraiser will soon be crossed off my bucket list. I don't know if I have the capability to do something for the environment, but I'm trying through small actions. Ironically, I guess having one less life on earth could make things easier for our ecosystem.

Regardless, given the nature of uncertainty during these times... I still feel the need to get some wishes off my chest:

• Don't bury me - I'd like to be cremated. Turn my ashes into jewellery for my best friend R, my sister and my mother. Put the rest of my ashes into a tree. I'd like to die sustainably and meaningfully.
• Use my bank account's money to arrange my service. Whatever is left, gift it to my sister for her to pursue her dreams. I probably don't have much, but it's good to have these things written down. I don't care about having a fancy service, what matters is that there's a moment for those I love to gather together. If you insist on bringing me flowers, I'd suggest white lilies. I've always loved their elegance and purity. In terms of music... The piano cover of Coldplay's 'Everglow' by Benny Martin has special meaning to me. The original song reminds me of my moments with Su. I love the lyrics.
• Print a copy of my poetry bundle and auto-biography for those who desire it. Before I go, I'll make sure to have personally signed a copy for my parents, my siblings, my close university friends (R, V, Mey, I, Ma, D, W, X) my Australian cousin (An), my fellow pink-haired cousin (El), my UK buddies (Isa, Chr, Ay, Pau), my London ex-housemates (Pa, Vi, Em) and Su.
• Don't read my diaries or therapy workbooks. Shred them. They include emotional, inconsiderate moments in life. Completely erase everything on my phones and laptops - respect my privacy. The most important pictures have already been made into physical albums or are in the process of it.
• I've kept all the letters I've received from my university friends, my UK buddies, and the most positive romantic influence in my life (Su). I'd like those to be returned to their respective owners.

Everglow - Coldplay

"Oh they say people come

Say people go

This particular diamond was extra special

And though you might be gone

And the world may not know

Still I see you celestial"

[...] 

"But the changing of winds

And the way waters flow

Life as short as the falling of snow

And now I'm gonna miss you, I know

But when I'm cold, cold

In water rolled, salt

And I know that you're with me

And the way you will show

And you're with me wherever I go

'Cause you give me this feeling, this everglow

What I wouldn't give for just a moment to hold

Yeah, I live for this feeling, this everglow

So if you love someone, you should let them know

Oh, the light that you left me will everglow"

Destinations

Enjoy the road; enjoy the destination. I try to appreciate both in life, and am therefore thrilled to announce that my Mental Health Fundraiser has reached its €1000 goal. It took me about 2 months to get here, but especially the first month was nerve-wrecking. It's one thing to struggle with mental health, another to just throw out my story into the world wide web and anxiously await whether I'd be caught up in my own web of doubts.

That being said, I'm still glad I did this. As of late, I feel like my passions are finally piecing themselves together. Throughout the years I've had many hobbies and interests. I never called myself a mental health advocate before, but through this fundraiser, my poetry, and upcoming articles I've been writing for an online magazine, I feel like my actions are finally aligned with my morals.

My second passion (sustainability) has always felt a bit disconnected from my interest in mental health... but I think I found the connecting bridge: mindful creativity. Lately, my crocheting adventures have made me more mindful and skilled in creating my own garments. My first wearable creation was a simple triangular scarf, which took me about 3 weeks to make. I'm hoping that I can soon create bigger pieces to wear. The feelings of relaxation, accomplishment and sustainability I get from crocheting are something I'd never imagined putting together. I am grateful for this summer, where I was forced to stay inside due to the pandemic. I was forced to introspect, to find ways to cope, and I got so much more from this summer than any exotic holiday would have given me.

The destination I've reached so far has been amazing, but also a bit lonely. Sometimes it feels like the more of my goals I reach in life, the less connected I feel with people. It's kind of like sitting atop a mountain, enjoying the fresh air and gorgeous landscape, whilst longing for someone next to you to share the view with. I'm missing human touch, I'm missing the prospect of ever being loved. My emotional state has been going through its ups and downs, especially since I've been isolating myself more from social/digital interactions (trying to respect some of my friends' boundaries).

The road to healing is difficult, and at this stage, mostly something that's up to me and my interactions with professionals. I'm trying to accept that whilst my friends want to be here for me, some things are just beyond their emotional capabilities.