Card castle.

I've been frowning a lot lately.

Truth be told-
I've been sobbing and looking as unhappy as I feel,
So how is that a surprise here?


It just that it hasn't occurred to me how profoundly things are affecting me-
Till I looked at some pictures I look at the recent book exhibition

And it became clear that my smile is melancholic and forced; my gaze sharp and judgmental, my eyes surrounded by deep dark circles- I have this all-round stressed-out appearance, and I just look sad no matter how wide my lips stretch to cover my mental exhaustion.

I already look older than my age due to my physique, voice, and behaviour-
But now I'm really starting to think that I'll look and feel thirty before I even hit 19.

Things never end up well when I desperately need them to,
But that's always the case, don't you think?

Nothing ever goes your way the way you want it to;
That's the way it is.
I won't go into too much detail here, but my first comeback session in a long time for storytelling turned out to be one of the worst sessions that I've ever had- a mum really put me on the spot in front of everyone about the book being too difficult for her child, I explained that it was to cater to the wider audience of 6-10, and she kept insisting that I read some other books/ some other librarian do the session instead.
Then, some other seven year old boy kept pestering me to find out my address- it wasn't that he as a kid didn't know better, because he was blocking my way and trying to drag me; he used threats and he wouldn't stop trying to force an answer out of me.

There was a limit to the amount of temper that I could show,
Considering the fact that we were at a staircase and he could easily tumble down the stairs, and it'd be my fault.

His mum just sat and laughed, then asked me if I was 'scared'.

Then, he followed me out of the library- in which case, I would really land in trouble for if he disappeared or something..

.
I then tried my hand at orphanages but there aren't opportunities available;

There are some who'd call me 'kind' for trying to volunteer,

But honestly I'm just trying to do something- fill up some space both within and outside of me,
And feel like I'm not disintegrating into salty dust.


I've told you this but it's so easy to revert to someone who cries herself to sleep on a daily basis- and I don't mean it as a pity party thing; I don't want to use my sadness as a tool; but it does seem that my unhappiness runs as a deeper scar than I'd thought, and I truly have difficulty trying to

"Get Better."




.
It then occurred to me that
I truly haven't had the life of a typical teenager;

It was such a wishful desire that I should be able to go to prom in a long gown and tinted chapstick; hug friends that were through thick and thin with me, go on a grad trip to some faraway country and see snow for the first time; get drunk with a bunch of fun-loving people and-

Feel like my possibilities are endless, like I'm in the prime of my life,

Like I belong somewhere.

To a certain extent, being a friendless fibre has trapped me in more ways that I've known: I've been to most of the places you can be to, alone- Museums, movies, shopping centres, book exhibitions, libraries- you name it, I've been there.
And since Singapore is such a tiny place,

Having no friends means no partying, no sleepovers, no adventure cove trips and no traveling- for I am not allowed to travel alone.

It means that you have no place left to go,
Nothing left to do.

Everyone else has been traveling to different countries- the average graduate has been to at least three, with three different groups of friends
And at first it didn't get to me the way everything else does,

But social media has a way of bringing you along on their graduation trips,
Then brutally slapping you in the face with the reminder that you're still very alone, and empty.


Each day has passed at a painfully slow rate,
And it's not because I want it to.

I just can't find the joy in shopping, or reading, or watching dramas anymore.
Listening to music just makes me reflect and cry even more,
And every hour has just been painful as I increasingly wish myself off to a different place,
With different circumstances in life.

I don't want to whine.
I just couldn't bring myself to enjoy anything anymore,
And I just
can't
           breathe.





I'm out of choices,
Im genuinely exhausted every single day- and I just can't bring myself to do anything productive anymore. 

You can only sustain your innate need for companionship with hobbies- for so long, after all. 

Truth be told, I exceeded the limit of being lonesome a long time ago. Still, when you're trapped, you're trapped, and there's nothing you can do to ease that emptiness- not volunteering, for I somehow couldn't find a place to go- and not a club for making friends, for such do not exist.

I am still at rock bottom, and it seems like it'll take years before I resurface from the muck again.

Somehow I'd expected the As to end alongside my loneliness; I thought it to be some magical gateway to a haven that I don't yet know.
The reality instead is such that I'm still stuck here, incapable of moving on, trapped by a lack of friends because you can only do so much, and be this fulfilled, Alone.

I wanted so much to just have a typical life;

And for that I've tried, tried

But it feels like everything's broken down as quickly as a card castle-

I'll have to start over, but how, and when- I do not know.

I just know that I'm going to cease being a teen soon,

And I haven't yet had good conversations, drunk nights, a little bit of rebellion and some little secrets. I haven't been to a class party since the last one in year two that screwed me over; I haven't travelled since the one in year two made me cry; I haven't relied on someone long enough to make him/her a part of myself.

I don't even want romance, for I can't possibly drag someone down to these depths for the sake of accompanying me; Not yet, not when I'm starting to feel for someone- and he's such a happy, wholesome person.

I just want friendship, a normal life-

And is that too much to ask for?

If nothing is wrong with me- and certain people have tried to convince me otherwise-

How is it that I'm still stuck here, living the consequences of a past I had no control over?

The answer doesn't matter;

I just wish for it all to change, for my unchanging desire to finally

Come true.

The wind of change.

It's been a week or so since the As ended,
And truth be told I tried waaay too hard to be productive;
Causing my exhaustion to burn me out like a weak flame atop a collapsing candle, making me feel worse than ever before-
Asking about internships, worrying about my chances at acting since there aren't any opportunities available, and the teacher had said that I'd have to commit to six months of 9-5 internship, doing anything and everything they ask me to (in other words, writing, collecting tickets, arranging goody bags- anything but my simple wish to be an actress)
I didn't mind learning more of it meant that I'd eventually get a shot at acting,
But six months of six days a week just seemed way too intense for someone like me, who feels emotionally and physically drained from the past two years. Furthermore, there is no guarantee of a chance at acting either, and I'd much rather spend that time and energy entering into a year-long training programme targeted at young actors, for that at least boosts my chances in a more direct manner.

Then, I shifted my desperation at living my dream online,
Creating loads of accounts and finding no opportunities either-

You get the idea.

Somehow I continued those searches for two days, sleeping at four again and the such.

Eventually I wondered about becoming a professional storyteller like I dreamt about a few months ago, and went searching for that, too.
Turns out that takes another 2-3 years before I can get the title;
And the me now will be able to be all 'let's go, let's try it out'
But the me from a few days back convinced herself that she had too little time and too little potential; she told herself that her future was hopeless

And then she lost the strength to even clean her room,
Because there was no one to celebrate the ending of her exams with her,
She wanted so so much to go to prom,
But there was nothing there for her-

And the loneliness and empty feeling consumed her again.

.
I honestly feel like I could revert back to that me any moment,
But for now I am optimistic,

And while that lasts, I want to articulate my future for the me that sobs at four in the morning.

So. Listen.


The wind of change is coming, whether you believe it or not.

You're someone who is fortunate enough in terms of the family you have and the freedom (to a certain extent) to do whatever you want for the next eight months.
Don't waste it,
But don't rush it either.

Don't feel like you have to shed off your old skin and transform into something else over the coarse of a few days;
Know that you have the privilege and the skills, and confidence,
To become what you set out to be in the first place.

Yesterday you finally got new shoes to replace the faded-with-holes-everywhere pair;
You got a new phone cover to replace the one that is a breath away from splitting in two,
You asked to do storytelling again,
And you finished reading a book.

Today you went and got your first pair of contacts, spent two hours practicing the coaxing of fearful eyelids to stay open, your mind to empty of torture devices used in wars in the past, and trying hard to learn to be gentle, cautious, but still smooth enough to place a watery piece of gel on your eye.

You then got some new bras
-Turns out, like most people out there,
I've been wearing them wrong and wearing the wrong ones;
The shape of my torso could be much better but it isn't-

You get the idea.

Tomorrow you'll start looking for make-up,
Figure out that grooming thing
Apply hair tonic to your scalp to stop the thinning
Moisturise your curls
And dye it in a few months, but only when your hair feels healthy again.


The following day,
You'll clear out your wardrobe and figure out what your new style is;
The things that should stay and the ones that you hoard for no particular reason;
You'll go shopping but only if you feel like it-
You'll finally get one good pair of heels
And hopefully buy one other pair to change up your look.

The day after that,
You'll pick up books and paintbrushes again.
You'll go to the bookstore and buy a paper cutter,
You'll dye papers again and make bookmarks like before;
You might even buy new stuffs to try out journaling.

You might want to go get some foam, fleece, ping pong balls and wood to try out puppet-making, then slowly figure out how to incorporate it into your storytelling.

You restart your storytelling this weekend,
There's no need to start things off with a bang- you don't need to rush out puppets or some legendary story yet-
Start off with 2-3 simple books, doesn't have to be Christmas-related,
And just use your voice and gestures the way you always have.

Then, find out if you want to volunteer to tutor kids at the temple, or deliver food to the needy- Do you want to start volunteering at the orphanage before figuring out the puppet thing, or before- Do you want to start recruiting partners to help you out- because you can only do so much, that fast, alone-

You can take it slow,
Because you aren't a miracle and you
Don't have to be one.

Why don't you start,

By sleeping at 12 tonight instead of 4,
Wake up at around 7-8
And start by trying out pancake recipes?

You want to bake,
But that calls for an oven
More planning, and shopping for materials.

That too can be done in small steps, in your own time.


.
Point is,
You have so many dreams and ambitions
But you still feel wrecked from everything that's happened at school.

You feel exhausted,
Because the insomnia has been getting worse and your
Brother gets sick of your sadness- Doesn't really understand how you can't do anything but cry at times- And tries to be harsh with you to 'slap you awake'.
But that never works, because empathy gets people to open up and heal; and aloof, cold, harsh statements only serve to make people clam up tighter.

You still feel very screwed up,
But that's okay.


Expect several recurrences,
Expect periods of reflection and crying for two hours straight like before.

But know this,
As many others don't believe in this about you-

You're not content to weep forever.

And you'll change.

You want so much to wake up and go to sleep each day
Thinking about how wonderful life is,
Not how hopeless your future is, after all.

It's just that different people have different rates of healing,

And I'm telling you that it's okay to be slow- So long as you don't ever give up and stop.



.
Do you feel that?

It's the wind of change.

And with a little luck, a teensy bit of magic;
That 'g' just might turn into a 'c',
Giving you your chance at a new life.