i was reading my earlier posts, my posts from 2019-2020, and i realised that i tend to perceive myself in a dual sort of way, that there are two extreme, contrasting selves— there’s ‘real’ raeann, and there’s ‘sick’ raeann— fragmented, disjointed, different.

‘real’ raeann is diligent, hardworking, rational. she has lots of achievements under her belt. ‘sick’ raeann is a little, well, unstable. she is emotional, questioning, existential. but she is more in touch with her feelings.

‘sick’ raeann has been at the forefront the past two years— the raeann i had so desperately tried to ignore. i think she’d had enough of being neglected, of lurking in the shadows, and rightfully so. i couldn’t pretend that she is nonexistent. not any longer.

‘sick’ raeann manifested herself in my suicide attempts. she manifested herself in my screaming and sobbing, my teeth-gnashing-head-banging-knuckle-bruising-flesh-gaping despair. she was extremely disabling, and yet she was real. maybe even more so than ‘real’ raeann.

and while ‘real’ raeann cries about these two years being an utter waste of time, ‘sick’ raeann begs to differ. now that i’m a little more acquainted with ‘sick’ raeann, maybe i am no longer as fragmented. more integrated, YM said. more… whole. and maybe this self-awareness has been, and will continue to be, helpful.

‘sick’ raeann— i see you and acknowledge you. i know you’re likely here to stay. and that’s okay. we will grow together, someday.

today, i let go of an Opportunity.

i had a nagging feeling that i should, right from the very beginning. something about it just didn’t sit right with me. it was the way it subtly stood for things i was against. it was the way it highlighted my insecurities. it was the way my heart simply said ‘no’. but i just went along with it, telling myself that i needed to be committed.

i think the straw that broke the camel’s back was when R did her home visit. i told her about it, she paused. “raeann, that sounds like, a lot.”

and yes, it is a lot. a lot for someone who was only discharged three months ago. a lot for someone who is still figuring things out. a lot for someone who is about to resume school. it is a solid Opportunity, but i am privileged enough to be able to take a pause, consider my limitations, and think, “yes, you’re right. it is a lot. maybe too much.”

i wanted a distraction. i wanted something to busy myself with. i have Two Months Left, and despite taking two consecutive years off school, i still haven’t figured out how to grant myself rest. today, a friend said that if i do [something i’ve been meaning to do] next year, i’ll be really busy. i immediately responded with “i like busy!” do i really? have i ever considered that maybe, being too busy was one of the reasons why i broke down?

i need to take things easy. physical rest is one thing, spiritual, mental, and emotional rest is another. i have rested, physically, in the past three months. but i’ve never really engaged in any other type of rest at all.

even God, who is never weary, rested on the seventh day. maybe i should too.

maybe i should take a pause, and revel in all the magnificent things He has done.

something about the night, something about the darkness and the silence and the solitude, amplifies the Noise inside my brain. this Noise hurts deeply. the truth is, i am beyond tired. i want, desperately, to cut the lone thread i am hanging by. but for better or for worse, something is holding me back.

i am experiencing a messy amalgamation of emotions, and i am unsure if i can verbalise what i’m feeling. all i know is, i crave a respite from Consciousness. but that does not exist! i suppose that sleep is the next best thing.

but, i am afraid of sleep. i really hate it when i think&think&think and feel&feel&feel and can’t solve the mess in my mind before i fall asleep. i hate it when i wake up the next day and these thoughts and feelings resurface. i am impatient and i need solutions Now. i can’t let this pain linger; it is excruciating.

i think, and then i think too much, and then i think about how i think too much, and then i try to think of a solution to thinking about thinking too much. it is a never-ending process. i fabricate layers and layers of meaning to things, layers that don’t even exist. eventually i will forget what i was even thinking about in the first place.

i don’t even know if dissecting this is healthy or beneficial for me, but i can’t help it. i would like to think that it’s still better than skirting around your issues, not thinking at all. or… maybe… not..?

my goodness. it is foolish to avoid thinking and yet it is foolish to think so much that you open up more cans of worms than you can handle. i need to find a balance, somehow.

for now, raeann, i implore you gently. go, to, bed.

i am back! for real! it has been a while, and i hope you have been well. ><

i am here for a few reasons. number one, i want to get back into the groove of writing, and experimenting with Words. i miss Words so dearly, and while i write on social media often, it just doesn’t feel the same. i hope i eventually get back into poetry again, and if i do, i shall share some on this blog. :o)

number two, i am in desperate need of a social media cleanse. i am a heavy, heavy instagram user, and the chatter that it creates in my brain is getting overwhelming. i want to learn how to unplug, and my goal is to not post on instagram until the year ends. i know i still need an emotional outlet, a safe place to store my thoughts and feelings, and as such, i have migrated here! i really, really missed you, dear blog. i just didn’t know how to begin again. and now, i’ve realised, all i need to do is start Writing, without restrictions, without inhibitions, as freely as i’d like to.

(( i am but a face in the crowd, and yet, when i am here, it really doesn’t feel like i am.))

thank you for the space you hold, and i am immensely grateful that you’re embarking on this journey with me. :’)

it is nighttime, and i am Filthy. my face is greasy and sticky, my hands are clammy. i feel like i am caked in dirt, although i just took a shower some time ago. i’ve been feeling this quite often.

and maybe i am overthinking it, but i do believe that this is a metaphor for how filthy i feel on the Inside. i thought i had gotten over it, but last saturday i felt filthy, so filthy that i was on the cusp of breaking my vow to myself. and today, i feel the same way. there is so much sinister chatter in my head, so many voices telling me how acutely broken i am. my heart feels strange and fluttery. i am fighting the urge to run to the bathroom and scrub at my skin until it’s pink and raw.

but i know that it won’t make me any cleaner, any purer. i am disgusting, abhorrent, repulsive… there are so many words i could use to describe myself. R told me that i cannot out-sin God’s grace and yet it often feels like i am doing just that. i know, rationally, that the almighty God has power over sin, and that i am no longer a slave to sin with the cross. but truthfully, this is just head knowledge. it doesn’t feel real to me.

whenever i feel God’s overflowing love, i bawl my eyes out. i am still desperately trying to deflect His love because of how undeserving i feel i am. my kingdom friends have been very patient with me, trying to explain how i need to learn to embrace the gospel of grace and accept this love. but it feels like a violation. and i don’t know what to do.

a life devoid of love is not a life worth living. i am sabotaging myself yet i can’t seem to stop. i am writing this in hopes of coming to a satisfactory conclusion, but i still can’t find one. as i write this, my eyes turn hot. i am afraid. God, i am sorry. God, please help me. i don’t deserve it, but i am selfishly desperate.

i want to see the sunrise again.

please, if it is Your will, please keep me safe.

it’s been more than a year and i think, i shall begin again.

remember: no matter how distant words may feel, no matter how cold and nonchalant and stoic they may seem, they will creep back, slowly, silently. they are old friends.

one day, you will find your footing again. as of now you might be staggering about blindly, carelessly. but one day you will find your rhythm, one day you will stumble across the path that’s been destined for you. and when that day comes, that day which has been planned by Him, yes, when that fateful day comes, you will feel alive again.

so don’t lose hope. don’t lose heart.

raeann, you will be found.

it has been six months since i’ve written anything on this blog, and a lot has changed; the most significant being the fact that i am now eighteen— a young adult!

it is scary to think of myself as an adult when for the past seventeen years of my life, i have thought of myself as a child. this is new, unknown territory. as someone who relies heavily on national healthcare services, it also means a gradual transition from child/adolescent services to adult ones. i have been in and out of the child and adolescent psychiatric ward the past six months; now, if i ever have to be inpatient again, i’ll be admitted to the adult ward (with unfamiliar faces). it is all very daunting.

for a long time i refused to accept that i was now eighteen; for a long time i feared growing up. i had the false perception that adulthood meant complete independence and self-reliance; that alarmed me greatly. i felt, and still feel, very much like a child. deep inside i want to be coddled; deep inside i want my hand to be held; i want someone to walk with me as i embark on this perilous journey called life. i was afraid that the support i had would wane now that i was supposedly an adult. but i was wrong.

eighteen is symbolic, but ultimately just a number. no one is going to walk away just because i’m eighteen — that is the horrid, dreadful !anxiety monster! talking. people deserve all the love, care and support they need, at any age— i am not an exception.

i am still very, very, very scared, and that is okay! time is not the enemy; with time i will grow, with time i will learn. :”

to do it, even when no one is watching.

regardless of time of day— in the lively morning, or in the dead of the night. quietly, earnestly, purposefully,

i know, and He knows, and that is good enough.

i ventured out into the open on my skates today. after days of shuffling back and forth along the corridor, i figured i was ready for a real challenge. i managed to improve on my turns and stops, but most importantly!!! ended up making a new friend :o)

---

– a family of three- father and two daughters- came by. the two girls were trying to skate as well, and we exchanged meek smiles and shy ‘hello’s. we skated in circles: my sister and i taking the upper half of the badminton court, the two girls taking the lower half.

– the older girl was probably around my age, but the younger girl was no older than four. she was extremely wobbly and slightly teary. father and older sister patiently cheer her on. her sister says, ‘you can do it!’ / ‘brave girl…’ / ‘c’mon, just try’.

– the little girl explores; she continues to stumble but eventually gains more confidence. she looks at me and i motion at her to stretch her arms out; she does. little girl teeters around, and i tell her, ‘be careful!’ she echoes what i say back to me. soon she takes more and more steps before stumbling, and her falls get more and more spaced out. she crosses into ‘my’ half of the court and beams at me. she says, ‘i can do it! i can do it!’

– her dad looks at me sheepishly, then asks her, “che che your new friend?” the little girl grins and nods her head. she points to her sister and tells me, “this is my kakak!” i laugh.

– suddenly she shuffles towards me, her arm outstretched. she wanted a high-five.

she stumbles a little as she gets close to me, but i hold onto her.

– we skate around the court for a little more than hour, and then the father hoists the little girl onto his shoulders, and the older girl picks up her bottle. they say good bye. the little girl waves and waves and waves, even as they begin to walk away.

– “bye!… bye!… bye!…”

:”)

as a child i was deathly afraid of the dark, & the things that may or may not lurk within it. i remember being told that only naughty children would be afraid of the dark— that good, well-behaved kids wouldn’t because they had nothing weighing on their conscience, nothing at all to worry about, that they would trust that nothing bad would happen to them. it was confusing; it made me feel guilty for things i hadn’t done.

now, as a not-quite-but-nearly-there adult-in-training, i’ve realised that i am afraid of the dark still – the dark as in, the obscured, the unknown – anything in the shadows, anything i cannot fully expect / control – the future & its uncertainties. similarly, i still struggle with a persistent sense of guilt – as evidenced by my immense fear of not being Good Enough – good as in morally good, mostly, though it applies to all aspects of my life .

i guess! i haven’t changed! as much as i thought i have…