Angst - a feeling of persistent worry about something trivial

Today was the kind of day that I would normally love. 

I woke up early with the sun and without an alarm, after a good night of slumber.

My morning was productive. I spoke to Tess, cleaned the shower from the muck and grime in corners and crannies, drank a nice cup of coffee and did some reading, attended virtual church and hand sewed up a ripped sleeve of a cardigan that had been on my to-do list for ages. 

On the drive to yours, I listened to John Green's soothing tone and insightful thoughts in his latest podcast episode, The Anthropocene Reviewed, Reviewed. We went for a short walk to grab lunch, had some tea, went for a nice long walk in nice-ish weather. Then on the balcony, we had nice pastries and more tea and my favourite kind of conversation with Charlie - about whether crime is a product of a person's situation or innate traits, how our perspective/identity/friendships have changed during COVID and the character of Mrs Maisel.

And then you ask, "What time are you going home?" 

Ah, such a simple, innocent question.

But my mind, overly eager to jump to conclusions because of some... let's call it emotional baggage, interpreted the question as a hint that I had overstayed my welcome, that you had enough of me and it was time to go. It was probably not all true, or at least not with the same harshness. But I felt like maybe there was the tiniest pinch of truth. The kind of pinch that stings.

And I can take a hint and I hate being where I'm not wanted. So I left. Maybe in a bit of a distracted way because of the influx of negative thoughts that I was trying to mentally fend off.

Perhaps I was a being overly sensitive and I overreacted - probably. But what preceded today was a conversation yesterday - where you told me to come later because you wanted to sleep in. I thought it would be nice to have a morning coffee session together, but your request was reasonable, so I relented. But what preceded that was you not wanting to spend weekend evenings together because you need alone time. We only see each other on weekend days now, but again, your request was reasonable, so I understood. Precede that with your easy acceptance that we might not have been able to see each other in person for six weeks when Stage 4 restrictions were first announced. And overlay all of that with your increasing workload and COVID restrictions that are seemingly never-ending. 

Ah such petty thoughts, I know. How ungrateful too, I know. I have become, ugh, a tightly wound ball of insecurity.

So what can I do with your reasonable requests, my desire to be a good girlfriend and give you what you need, my refusal to stew in further neediness (again, ugh) and my prideful nature (to never want more that I am wanted)? I can only move myself to a place of cool indifference, where I am grateful (happy?) when (if) we get to spend time together, but it doesn't phase me if we don't. A mental exercise that I have yet to master.

I find these parts of love so very terrifying angst-inducing - the part that brings out my most hidden insecurities, the part where someone else's actions (intentional or not) can unsettle my usually settled state of being, and the part where I feel helplessly torn between needing something from the other person and being what the other person needs.

I will be okay. Just gotta keep revising my narrative till I find one that fits. 

At least I came home to the most gorgeous sunset-tinted sky.

SOS

Well,

Last week was a little too emotionally intense than I would like. 

I was in a constant state of tension, battling between my mind and my emotions. I kept trying to construct a positive narrative that I could accept, but it was hard to reconcile with all these negative emotions and thoughts that kept bubbling up.

I tried reasoning with myself again and again that I should stop imputing a lack of care or a de-prioritising of our relationship to him. He was busy and stressed. Work is important. 

And yet I couldn't help but feel like I was unimportant. His words were reassuring in the moment, but his actions seemed to say otherwise. The recurring thought was that I was the "understanding girlfriend" who was always gonna be there, and therefore all effort could be applied everywhere else, in friends/work/family, and as the "understanding girlfriend", I would just accept whatever was leftover (if anything). I knowww I sound terribly resentful... But I'm trying to be honest with myself and face the disappointment/hurt I was feeling, whether it was reasonable or not.

I really really wanted to be (and tried my very best to be) that chill, carefree person with unlimited capacity to love and forgive and understand. But I couldn't help but feel like I had mustered up all my patience and understanding, and there was nothing left for me to give. 

I know that love is supposed to be unconditional. I know you're supposed to give without any expectation of return. But that is also starting to feel like an almost impossible feat that goes against our flawed human nature, our need for things to be fair, our innate selfishness. I want more from a relationship than to just be someone to spend time with when there's nothing better to do. I want to be wanted, to be thought of, to be missed. I want to be heard, to share life, to matter. Is that such a high ask?

Urgh I sound so attached and dependent. It seems so insignificant and petty now when I think about it. And yet, my emotions seem to be throwing a huge tantrum, and it's restricting my ability to see things clearly. I'm viewing everything through a lens that has dirt and grime all over.

So I am deciding that perhaps it's best to take a step back. I'm extricating myself from what has become an unhealthy attachment, thinking myself out of feeling stuck, and reminding myself that I can choose. 

I am choosing to unknot the knot in my chest. I am choosing not to give up. I am choosing to move forward, to observe and to hope.

God help me to learn from this, to be understanding and forgiving, but also wise and discerning. Also take away the resentment that I'm struggling to shrug off myself. 

Please.

Me.

2019 NY Resolutions

Well,

Hello 2019.

As typical and sometimes useless as new year's resolutions are, I feel like they are of some value (to me anyway). The overarching theme for this year is to make sure I am striving for things that are worth having.

1. Be present. Worry less, do more.
2. Learn to disregard other people's negative perceptions of me if they do not help me to become a better human being.
   This is a lesson that I really should have learnt years ago. I guess it's an extension of the fact that you can't please everyone and perfection is unattainable.
3. Build and strengthen relationships with people that are important.
   I would also need to figure out for myself which people are important...
4. Invest time/money into things that are fun.
   How much time/money, you ask? I have no idea. However much I can invest without feeling guilty or indulgent I guess. 
5. Get a part-time job (and a graduate job).
   Prayer. Lots and lots of prayer. Also faith that God will provide. Also a hell of a lot of working hard at clerkships and applying for other things just in case.
6. Keep healthy, both physically and mentally.
   Physical health should be easy. I think I've found a system that works. Mental health? Perhaps more reflection, but also less thinking/worrying and more living in the moment. Is that contradictory? 

Here's to my final year (hopefully) at university. I am determined to make it a meaningful and fun-filled one.

Me.

reflections on friends

Hello.

It's been a while. But last night, I experienced a rather extreme emotional response. (Well, extreme by reference to my own scale of emotional responses, which is based on a perception of myself as a relatively composed person.) So I figured that warrants some reflection.

I end a call with Matt in a sombre mood. He told me about a conversation he had with Alan, about Alan's concern that our friendship group is falling apart, and (the most hurtful part) that "his tolerance level for explaining things to Erica that normal people would understand" has decreased since he started full-time work.

I feel myself instantly becoming defensive and thinking, well if he doesn't feel like I'm adding value or doesn't enjoy spending time with me, then fine I'm not one to stay where I'm not wanted. Fine, I'm a little naive. Fine, I'm stubborn when it comes to defending people when it may not be justified or reasonable because I think it's good to always see the best in people. Fine, I'm curious when people have different perspectives to mine and ask a lot of questions to understand them. And maybe all of this is annoying. But aren't friends supposed to accept appreciate friends for who they are and understand why they are the way they are?

The logical voice in my mind suggests that I might be taking this all too personally. It's not a big deal. Alan tends to make flippant comments about people. It doesn't mean he doesn't care or is no longer a good friend. Friends complain about friends all. the. time.

But I had gone too far down to reverse this emotional train of thought. I start questioning whether any of my friends actually like me, whether I'm adding value to their lives or merely being tolerated, whether it's all pointless in the end... I guess the whole scenario of finding out about a close friend picking on things they don't like about me digs into one of my deepest insecurities. It might stem from the insecure 13 year old me that felt like I didn't belong in my high school group or from the good ol' Evelyn betrayal. Or maybe it's just my (slightly obsessive) need to be perfect and to be liked by everyone.

Matt's attempt to cheer me up with words of support and encouragement help a little, but I'm too trapped in negativity to think rationally.

I sit in the car brooding silently. At some point, Jon notices and asks, "Are you okay?". I crumple. Cue the ugly cry. The kind where your nose gets clogged up so you can't breathe, you squint through swollen and puffy goldfish-like eyes, and you struggle to string a sentence together to explain the cause of your distress.

Mum turns around and asks "What's wrong?... Is it because you miss Matt?"

Despite the rather depressing internal monologue I'm having in my brain, I burst into laughter. Jon and Tess are laughing hysterically with me. All three of us think it's absurd that I would cry to this extent just because I miss Matt. (I do miss him though)

Talking through my thoughts and feelings, I understand better why I'm so upset. In my eyes, my friends can do no wrong. Once they've passed some subconscious boundary in my mind and I consider them a close friend, they become cloaked in a shroud of positive bias. I find it difficult to criticise their actions or complain about them. So when I realise that they don't operate on the same basis, and criticise things about me that I feel like are inherently me, it hurts.

Regardless, being with family was comforting.

I guess this whole thing was another reminder that you can't please everyone. I also need to accept that friendships change and people disappoint. C'est la vie. But life continues and it's okay.

Me.

Uncertain

Well,

I have left this space empty for a while... Life has been so hectic. I genuinely don't know where all the time goes.

My current feeling is a sense of internal conflict. I feel torn between so many things; My head feels like there are hundreds of little people incessantly debating about every topic under the sun.

I find it hard to make decisions because there are so many considerations. Too many. The older I get, the more I feel as though every action is weighted by heavy consequences. So my logic is to wait, collect more data, and carefully consider every option and their array of possible outcomes, before finally deciding to act.

But then there's a part of me that just doesn't want to give a damn. I want to act rashly and make mistakes. Then learn from them later. Why do my decisions have to be so considered? Why must I always do the 'right' or 'mature' or 'responsible' thing? And isn't it better to be stupid and careless now while I'm still (relatively) young and my mistakes are (hopefully) still fixable?

I'm forever so cautious about how my decisions affect or viewed by others, and it has served me well so far. Yes it means I am easily influenced by the people around me, but Mum has always said the fact that I'm so teachable can be a strength. It also means I can relate with almost everyone. But at what cost? How do I assess which of my decisions are my own and which of them are the product of my surrounding influences? Does it matter? #struggles

On another note, I think I have travelled enough for a while. As much as I love travelling and seeing the world and meeting people, after my exchange in Hong Kong, my trip to Taiwan + Macau, and 5 weeks in Europe, I feel like I've eaten that extra chunk of dessert that feels excessive. Not quite to the point of regret, but almost.

Me.

Not wanting to want

You know what I don't like?

I don't like being in a state of wanting. 

I've always been a simpleton who was contented with the present. I was satisfied with whatever state of affairs I was in, without too much worry about the past or the future. But somehow, be it the result of my own initiative to develop more drive because I think it's desirable to do so, or out of fear that I'm settling because I'm not being proactive enough, I have come to a point where I am in a state of wanting.

On a large scale, I want to know what my adult life will look like, where I will be and who will be there. On a smaller scale, I want to go on exchange to HKU, to get a paralegal job at Allens, for Matt to come to church with me, for the occasional insecurities that pop up to sort themselves out. And yet I know all these things are mostly beyond my control.

Perhaps it's just this stage of life where many of my peers are on the cusp of change and I feel like the decisions I make and what I do now will have much more significant repercussions. They will shape my life for the years to come. Then again, haven't decisions and actions always had future consequences? Why have I not concerned myself with such worries until now? 

I don't like to want. It creates the most subtle sense of restlessness and anxiety that is barely noticeable. Until I notice. And then I want to get rid of it.

It's funny because in BSF right now we're learning about Jesus proclaiming himself as the bread of life that sustains us. It's nothing new; I've heard it all before. But there's a different meaning to it now. Either God is creating this sense of want so I can realise that it's Him I should be seeking, or I realised that we should have a desire to seek Him and that is creating the sense of want. Ha. 

I just confused myself.

Me.

Tan Fambam

The more I go through life, the more I'm realising how truly fortunate I am to have such a loving and supportive family.

Mum and Dad have so. much. patience. and wisdom, generosity, resilience.

They have to balance between so many factors and considerations. They constantly have to make difficult decisions where they only find out if it's right in hindsight (and if it's wrong too bad). Consequences must be faced, whether they resulted from your own actions or from things beyond your control.

How do they pour out so much love and still have heart left over? How do they give everything and expect nothing in return? To constantly fuel 3 other lives without burning out? As a parent, one must to recognise the weight of responsibility in the impact that you have on your children's lives. And yet, how do you do so without feeling pressured till cracking point? It really seems like an impossible feat. 

I've asked them before how they manage to navigate the complex maze of parenthood. Their response is that God is faithful and guides them through it all. Sure they're not perfect people, I know that now. But I have experienced their unconditional love, observed the wise decisions, seen the fruitful return (both financial and non-financial investments) of the risks taken. They have the most genuine, unselfish desire to set us up to have all the opportunities for the best lives possible. It's because of years and years of their blood, sweat and tears that our family has come to where we are today.

Achieving Tan family goals. Eternally grateful. Feeling blessed and liable. 

The hope is that I'd be able to do the same for my children in the future. 

Me.