LUCID STARS: style

Showing posts with label style. Show all posts

Wellness.

It's been a rough week.

Perhaps it was the congenital dread tied to the commencement of a new week. Sunday nights are a very dangerous time. The following two days were in similar pursuit: my mind trying to wrestle and take me down. It succeeded, for one.

What sparked it all: an unfortunate moment of realization.

I don't know if it's the late nights that imbue me with an incurable plague of sadness. I don't know if there's genuinely something wrong with me. I don't know if it's me at all, repeatedly nursing and gashing these wounds. I don't know a lot, and I am trying my best to find the answers for myself.

Then it hit me. All the things I thought were a part of me were perhaps a separate entity on their own; the part of me that tried to tear me down was doing no good for me. I needed to peel those parasitic layers away, because the feeling was multiplying - and I, in turn, was becoming the host for its torment. Yet it was hard to distinguish when it was eroding me.

I've worked out the triggers: the sensing of unresolved issues, noise, idleness, obligation, school... I know, they aren't the cause. They drive things into worse ground but they are not responsible for my hardship. It's all on me. I'm responsible.

I know I have a support system when I need it, an excellent one at that - yet the ~~little~~ cracks ingrained in me always host the shortcut to misery. The things that shouldn't bother me do. The things I am immensely grateful for have run short of solace. It's an eternal and internal paradox.

There's a lot that I wanted to let out on those nights. I had it all written up, sitting obediently in my drafts. Does it really have to be said? I question myself every time I spill.

But for the purpose of this being one of my safe havens, I want to share my lowest point. I know I am not alone, no matter how much my brain convinces me during those times. In revealing the weakest side of me, I urge those suffering to seek help.

***

I've had a problem. I never knew it was problem. I thought it was just in my nature, my character - for the longest time. I didn't think I needed to change. I was who I was. 'I am who I am,' was the mantra.

I stay true to myself, I have a self-esteem, I treat myself.

What's the problem then?

I'm neurotic. I want to say I am not ashamed of it but I am. I am ashamed of how I think so much. I'm a big believer of moderation, so it's never new when I'm always advised 'Don't worry too much' or 'Try not to think about it'. Honest, I tell myself that too. But I don't follow my own advice. I'm guilty as hell of that. No one ever says anything about it being okay to be emotional by nature, to be hypersensitive.

I'm scared the stigma attached to mental health will send people in the other direction. (I'm a huge advocate for it but when I realised it well and truly concerned my own wellbeing, I was so overwhelmed. 'I have to tread lightly. I have to be careful what I say, to who.' I remember telling someone last year. It was a huge step. She looked at me with doubt. 'Are you sure? You don't know look like someone who could have a mental health disorder'. It felt like a punch. It hurt a lot. That stuck with me. I believed it. I withdrew myself from the idea.) By people - I don't mean the people whom don't know me, but those who do. Those who think they do, those who I love and can't bear to lose.

The perceptions that will change. I've already lost sight of which thoughts are really me, and if others' were to change, I'd be kept in the dark. No one would know, not even myself.

Losing people is something else altogether. I am swimming in my own mind without end. I'm out of my mind, literally, whenever I even as so much talk to someone. Being caught up in the currents, I'd do anything to grasp onto a lifeline. It provides me with temporary relief.

We're basically told not to give a shit. Time will heal wounds. But. Is there advice about stabbing yourself and deepening your already inflicted wounds? Who do I turn to when there is no one at the time, but myself? Does anyone give a shit then?

I do. And I'm sick of infinitely feeling this way.

...

Let me first talk about why I love music so much. It fills the silence, instead of what would be my pool of thoughts. It is the only constant in my life. I'm in harmony with the melodies, every riff, and every drum beat. I know them well. I know they won't disappoint. (I mean, my immanence really is equivalent to uncertainty.) Hence, I cannot live without it. Music is what keeps me in a steady place.

Second of all, I'm a people person. I rely on others - full stop. There's no way two ways about it. This is the most terrifying thing to admit. I've been told I'm independent in some aspects, but personally I know I am more inclined to being dependable.

I get so scared of my mind. When I get to this point, I want to lock myself away. I want to run. I want to evade everything. I want to shut out the world. I don't feel like I can face anyone - especially the relationships where it's all surface, and no substance. I harbour hatred for small talk. I harbour hatred for how reliant I am on those I love. I harbour hatred for worrying them. I harbour hatred for not who I am, but how I am. It's a helpless place, and I'm descending further into the abyss.

At this moment, I am set right to implode.

I have attempted to track my mood patterns. They're always a stiff climb and during manic episodes, I am unstoppable. That is, until my mind drags me back down again. I wallow in that same old pit of misery. It used to go on for days, months. They only make an appearance periodically now. I have also retraced my own timeline of thought, through posts dating back to 2011. It's insane. I look back at something I wrote over two years ago and I can feel exactly the same as I did then.

I am trying to help myself.

No matter what, it ends up in failure.

***

Thankfully, I am feeling better now. I've been unstable, of course, but when have I never? I know I can cope, I know that in this frame of mind I'll be alright. I have sought out the people who are always there for me. I've had my share of outbursts, love and support, and the tears which had been suppressed for so long. Now I know exactly who I need to see.

I'd been afraid of what was always wrong in me. It was a manifested web I'd fallen victim to. I'd become oddly comfortable with it. Maybe if it eats me, sure death will be near. It will all end. I'd foolishly allowed it to consume me. I'd declared myself prey. Not anymore.

(It's funny. People are more alike than I think - especially those closest to me, whom I'd never suspected would feel the same. It's hit me with blinding astonishment, and startled me in ways. I'd begun to feel ashamed. I'd begun to feel more clarity. I'd begun to feel like it wasn't the end, for the first time. Letting it out was what I needed all this while.)

Now, onto the next step: to get back on track.

Time to fix myself, to take the determined road to recovery.

YOU CAN ALSO FIND ME ON BLOGLOVIN // GFC // INSTAGRAM // SOUNDCLOUD // SPOTIFY

Mind, drips.

I'm in Singapore! Yep, that's right. Yet again for the end of year holidays. My first outing of course had to include Benita, one of my favourite girls here. We decided the art museum would be a compelling place to visit. Before we boarded the train, she gave me a few late Christmas gifts - amongst it was band lyric stickers. (Seriously, how sweet of her! They were absolutely perfect, and so hard to come by too.) We picked up right where we left off, with a million things to catch up on.

What really caught my eye was the wet-look paint drip decor on the wall of stairs. It was an intriguing welcome to what had been awaiting us upstairs. We were rather keen to see the exhibitions, and of them all we first viewed Still Moving. We approached the room to our first left, shrouded in darkness. This piece above was mesmerizing; a spherical lattice of golden drops. Another enjoyed aspect was the caged abdomen of a metal seal rising up and down to mimic breathing. The wire work as well as the carefully shaped sand helped to exude a sense of mystery to its hidden story. The next piece was of three projector screens showing a montage of worldly scenes, then visually focusing on unspoken of impacts of a natural disaster on human communities.

Next up was Medium at Large. We found ourselves instantly drawn to the bursts of colour in the exhibition, unlike we had previously failed to comprehend before. The pieces we took particular interest in were Untitled by Mit Jai Inn, April 2008, Tokyo by Chua Chye Teck and Ian Woo's First Heart, Head, Neck and Wing (in order). The structure and variation of techniques in the last piece was noteworthy for me, especially on such a simple medium.

We began to wrap things up at around 3pm. We walked around the perimeter of the reinvented museum, formerly a 19th century mission school, exploring its every corner. The intricate tiles and ivory pillared walls were of admirable grandeur. We left the place after popping into its souvenir shop, filled with contemporary goods of Singaporean trademarks.

Right after, we headed for an immensely late lunch. We both settled for ramen and wholesome matcha drinks. Throughout all our conversation topics it was as if Benita was reading my mind, and basically dictating everything I thought of prior to speech. This is what 8 years of friendship gets you, which I can't help but smile about. It was soon past 5pm and we then window shopped at some iconic stores, like Topshop, The Editor's Market and H&M. See, I've made a vow to not spend money on unnecessary things that won't provide memorable experiences. Though Benita's thinking of taking me to another fashion hotspot on the weekend, so who knows if I'll commit!

Getting locked from my dad's place at 8pm led to impromptu dinner plans. I fortunately grabbed a Starbucks to unwind, on the way to meeting my parents. I ordered an iced decaf Caramel Frappuccino and the guy who took my order was so darn lovely. It's hard to come by good service in Singapore. I already miss home, the warm people and day-to-day ambience.

Though I think, if I stop being miserable and keep myself occupied for the next month, Singapore could grant me the best start to 2015. I'm still in awe of 2014 slipping away from my fingers, and hence will spend the last day carefree.

How about you? How are you spending New Year's Eve?

YOU CAN ALSO FIND ME ON BLOGLOVIN // GFC // INSTAGRAM // SOUNDCLOUD // SPOTIFY

Can we dance now?

D.D.14.11.14 // Our school dinner dance! A quintessential part of the Year 10 experience, as I'd like to think. In other words, our year hasn't had a single decent social and this would've been impossible to pass up. It became a night to savour, before getting wrapped up in upper school affairs. I had been anxious of any potential mishaps but it all went by seamlessly. (3 hours were not enough!) Of my anticipation, I had a few paramount goals in mind:

1 // Eat my fill - including dessert. 2 // Dance with as many people as possible. 3 // Try not to trip. 4 // Commemorate the formal occasion with photos. 5 // Have a much-needed, golden night.

Wearing Laser Cut Out Trim Playsuit - Ally // Wallis Flatform Sandals - Topshop // Earrings - Diva // Nail polish - Sinful Colors

To sum it up, it was a mass semi-formal party with many of my favourites. The buffet was brilliant, too. I accomplished all my intended goals with the exception of #3. Only once, and that was excusable as it was on the dance floor. (Oh and when I carelessly asked Liz to give me a piggyback, sorry Liz.) #4 was carried out with iPhone photos, so please don't mind the quality. These are some of the night's highlights. Surprisingly, the rest of my year group was eager to dance, hence I didn't feel alone on the effervescent party spirit. The DJ's music picks weren't the most tasteful but that's alright. #2 was still executed well. What a great way to commence the start of formals, to celebrate our years in high school thus far.

It was actually my first proper time getting all done up - think hair, make-up and heels - but I warmed up to it fairly well. I had a lovely lady called Catherine help me out with curling my hair and minimal makeup, which I even hated to say goodbye to when getting un-ready. I felt a bit anxious and out of my element at first, until I arrived and received numerous compliments. I soon was exuding confidence and I honestly couldn't get over how great everyone looked! I also got henna done by an amazing girl who I used to go to primary school with. My look for the night came together as Indian-esque - with gorgeous henna, Pearl's gifted bangles from India and bright tangerine as a centre-piece. I'm really quite happy I went with my choices. Again, I'm incredibly content with the amazing vibe thanks to the convivial crowd all around with me.

'Get up on the floor, dancin' all night long. // Dancin' in the moonlight, gazing at the stars so bright.' - Aaron Smith

YOU CAN ALSO FIND ME ON BLOGLOVIN // GFC // INSTAGRAM // SOUNDCLOUD // SPOTIFY

The hill.

An adventure of soaring heights with the sibling. Let me break this up into six parts for easy reading, if you'd allow me to proceed. Part one // We sauntered around the Sunday markets, lingered and picked up handmade trinkets for our parents.

Part two // Pumpkin pizza, coffee, steak pies and honeycake to taste. I can't say it was all that satisfying; still something new to sample, nonetheless. We lay willingly and languid under the sun. We didn't speak. We didn't need to. We just lay.

Part 3 // We did some of our own wandering around the university campus, too. Chatting on the bench about topics of all sorts and taking pictures on a whim. We imagined university life and the alluring future spread out ahead of us.

Part 4 // We retreated to the near perimeter of the river. The sun withdrew itself; a vanishing act. It repeated this fashion as it pleased, but we still enjoyed the riverside sights. We fancied taking in the scenery for a while. Just a little while more.

Part 5 // After more relaxation, we made our jolly way over to the acclaimed bushland park. We conquered slopes, wind, flowerbeds, dirt, countless hills, trails and even a few sunshowers. But it was nothing too irksome to rain on our parade.

Part six // We dabbled deeper into our walk, only to find that we had strolled off-track. We climbed bridges despite my fear of heights. I was already battling the elements. We were rewarded, though, with the overlooking view. We had made it.