life has been very busy. there are always things to do. everyday there are tasks to complete, checkboxes to tick.

it is physically tiring for sure, but that doesn’t bother me too much. what bothers me is the fact that i am unable to pause and process things when they happen. there are so many thoughts clamouring for attention as i do my homework. so much chatter in my mind as i meet a friend. i’m not quite sure the extent to which i should detach myself from… me.

and there are the feelings that arise within me. i am so quick to dismiss how i feel, to rationalise them away. i am fixated on dulling intense emotions, distracting myself with so-called “coping mechanisms”. but i think, there are things that need to be thought. and things that need to be felt.

i will have to learn how to carve out time for myself, to be attuned to what i need. and maybe….! life will be a little more bearable.

my initial reaction was not exactly joy. it was surprise, it was shock. i’ve had labels stuck onto me since i was twelve; to hear someone suggest that i am In Remission from it all is very, very peculiar.

who am i without my labels? i can’t even begin to describe myself. i’m Raeann, i suppose, but there are millions of Raeanns out there. what makes me, me? for so long my labels were the only thing remotely interesting about me. i am raeann who was depressed, raeann who tried to die, raeann who got hospitalised. raeann who lost countless friends, countless opportunities, raeann who lost years of her youth. raeann who Struggled.

but i am also raeann who loves to sing and read and write and take long walks and watch the sunset and paint and eat good food and have novel experiences. raeann who intellectualises everything raeann who feels strongly and deeply raeann who loves, hard. raeann who is still struggling in some way but doing her best not to fall down the rabbit hole again. raeann who is often Trying Her Best (not always, and that’s okay).

i am starting to realise that i am as interesting and worth getting to know as everyone around me. that while i do not have specific traits that make me unique, my experience of the world combined with my personality, my strengths and weaknesses, my hopes and regrets, my likes and dislikes, make me one of a kind.

i have much to learn about myself :o)

lately, i’ve been experiencing an overwhelming urge to stay silent, or at least as quiet as i could possibly be.

i want to deactivate my social media accounts, delete my messaging apps. i want to confine myself to the four walls of my room and not let anyone in. i want to keep my mouth shut and my head down.

there’s something about having a voice that irks me. no matter how quietly i speak, no matter how gentle my tone, my voice still grates on my ears.

i am tired of expressing needs that will go unmet. i am tired of seeking connections that will never satisfy. this self-indulgence, this narcissism, this conceit has to leave. i wish i were meek, mild, modest. but i am none of those things.

i am wary of the impact i might leave. i am afraid of the ripple i might cause.

i am terrified of having a voice. because all this voice does is plead, and beg, and whine.

i’m not sure why i set an expectation for myself that i could never meet. i know that this is a logical fallacy. but i’ve been the burden for so long, and i am tired of being one. i wonder if staying silent— letting my voice go unheard— would alleviate the situation.

i will test it out; i really hope it works.

“Took a tour to see the stars
But they weren't out tonight
So I wished hard on a Chinese satellite
I want to believe
Instead I look at the sky and I feel nothing
You know I hate to be alone
I want to be wrong” - Phoebe Bridgers

i believe, not because i truly believe, but because i want to believe.

i find peace in believing. i find beauty in clinging onto a Truth that may not be a truth. i find beauty in holding onto a Reality that may not be real. this world is uncertain, undefined, ever-changing. i firmly believe that nothing, absolutely nothing, no matter what anyone else says or thinks, is truly the way it is. in your version of the world, you pick and choose what you want to believe in— absence of a belief is a belief as well. and in raeann’s world, raeann chooses to believe.

raeann believes there is someone out there. raeann believes there is more to life than this. a someone that defies all human logic and understanding. a someone that is infinitely greater and deeper than the greatest despair, the deepest fear. a someone who is in control when she has none.

perhaps this is the easy way out. admittedly, it probably is. but this is what works for me, and i will not be ashamed of it. this belief has helped me to recover when i was resistant to all else. this belief has changed my worldview one-eighty degrees for the better. this belief has quite simply saved my life.

there is much i do not understand, and much controversy still abounds in my mind.

but even with this minuscule amount of faith, my life has completely changed, and i don’t think it will ever be the same again.

as the clock ticks and my return to school gets closer and closer, i’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that this body isn’t what it was three years ago. this body, with its curves and imperfections, its blemishes and scars, feels alien to me. i tried on my old school uniform the other day and i could barely fit into it. i was aghast.

woe is me, i suppose. it is tempting to revert to my old ways, to let the familiar hunger come in waves. a few years ago, i used to do anything to see the number on the scale drop. i would climb sixteen flights of stairs. i would jog in the shower. i would pretend to eat and spit out my food afterwards. there was once we did the dreaded 2.4km, and all i had for the entire day was a bottle of green tea and two rice crackers.

perhaps it is somewhat anti-feminist of me, but i still would do anything it takes to lose weight. i am stubborn like that, i’ll admit. i just want to feel better, you know. and to me, losing weight would make me feel better. as cliché as it is, it gives me an illusion of control over my otherwise unpredictable circumstances. seeing the number drop day by day makes me feel comforted and secure.

but of course, it comes with its drawbacks. the guilt i feel over every uncalculated bite is so intense that it is paralysing. the hatred i feel towards my body makes me keel over. i feel like i am trapped in an inescapable flesh prison, and there is nothing i can do.

i’m not sure why this matters so much to me. it feels superficial and shallow. but it does, and no matter how i try to deny that it doesn’t, it still does. i guess for now, i will simply acknowledge that.

these few days have been a fever dream.

i’ve been feeling bursts of joy. a heart-pounding restlessness, a dizzying happiness. a joy that can’t seem to be contained. shy, meek raeann is alive and animated— she is friendly and sociable, she initiates lots of conversation. she is filled with chatter and she talks fast. this raeann thinks that her life is brimming with purpose and meaning. she wakes up at 4am, having slept 4 hours, and immediately starts studying. she is so excited she is practically bouncing off the walls. it feels rather euphoric.

but something is wrong. it felt nice at first but after a while it became scary. this raeann says things she isn’t supposed to say, thinks thoughts she isn’t supposed to think. this raeann thinks she can do anything, and everything. she thinks that she can walk through traffic and all the cars will halt before her. she thinks she can fall off a building and remain unscathed. miracles happen, and she happens to be that miracle. this raeann thinks she is invincible. she is boundless, limitless, uncontrollable. this raeann floats miles above where her body rests.

i am feeling a little less lively than i did yesterday so i suspect that a crash of some sort awaits. but currently, it’s a strange mix of happy and sad. high energy, deep despair. not sure why, but this word keeps popping up in my mind— amphoteric. (side note: i don’t enjoy chemistry.)

we will see how it goes.

it’s my second time here, and everything is the same. i feel like i am being transported back in time, that it is only july. the routine, the staff, the environment— not much has changed, but i guess i have. i was quite the troublemaker the previous time, and i suppose i still am. but this raeann is a little different. she smiles more. she initiates conversation. she is slower to react. she prays, as always, but this time, she prays with more focus and clarity.

i feel like i’ve taken two steps forward, one step back. the place i’ve so desperately wanted to leave now feels Safe, and i think that may be dangerous. i don’t want to come back here a third, fourth, fifth time. i want to be Out of the system completely. i must not find comfort in the place that has, and will continue to, hurt me.

this place is well-lit, with artificial light. yes, it’s easier to find light in here. it’s easier because for so long, you have focused on the nitty-gritty, and here you can look at the full picture. it’s easier because in a place where everything is on pause, you are trying find hope in an obscure, detached future. of course it’s easy. my lofty dreams are just dreams.

but these dreams are waiting to be accomplished, and time is waiting to be passed. i can’t hide here forever. i need to step out into the sun.

If the future is bright
It doesn’t shine with that “end of the tunnel” light
More like a deer in the headlights
Sudden red lights
Or “you’re dead” lights
As the anglerfish bite

It’s not fair
The past is clear but it’s clear back there
What’s ahead? No one knows
But it’s closing in, we swear
Still not in my prime, I have so much to do
But maybe it’s time to let time pass through

Passing Through (Can’t The Future Just Wait) by Kaden MacKay

i lost it on wednesday. i told dad that i was going to water the plants. watering can in hand i shut the front gate, stood in the corridor, and willed myself to do it. kiko sensed something was wrong. she barked frantically, scratched at the door desperately. i turned around and looked at her.

i just couldn’t.

i slunk back into the house in defeat.

---

the ride to the emergency room was silent; there is no appropriate music for moments like these. i sat in the passenger’s seat, dazed. i held onto a small bag with three items: my facial cleanser, my mum’s bible, and my ic. i thought to myself: i wonder how long they’ll keep me in this time. when we arrived at the door, the nurse asked: why are you here? i kept quiet. i couldn’t meet her eyes. same old raeann, here for the same reasons as always.

we waited in the small, packed waiting area. suddenly, there was a commotion towards my right. a distressed patient stood at the door, surrounded by nurses. just let me go home! she screamed. at that very moment i had flashbacks of all the physical fights and shouting matches between patients and staff that occurred during my numerous stays here. i can’t possibly deal with this again.

i turned to dad. let’s go home. and with some negotiation and convincing, we went our way. the kind nurse squeezed my shoulder. come back if you need to.

---

it’s been two days, and i haven’t needed to.

somehow, these two days have been pretty uneventful. i was so certain i was going to do something when i prepared my note, leaving it to stew in my drafts. but for some reason, God kept me safe. and while i still think about wednesday with a tinge of regret, chastising myself for not taking the plunge, i think a part of me is relieved i didn’t.

it has been a difficult and scary week, and i am afraid of what is to come. i am afraid of potential trips to the eroom. i am afraid of full-fledged relapse. although i believe that our God is a God of miracles, deep down i don’t believe He can fully heal me. i harbour a lot of fear. and it’s this one fear that i have trouble surrendering over to God. i’m hoping that i will find clarity about this during conference next week.

i’m still a little shaken by what has happened, and there are lots of things i have yet to process. but for now raeann, you shall take it slow. as trite as it sounds, take it one day at a time. with time my wounds shall heal.

it’s time to go to bed! and tomorrow… we shall fight again.

when i was in ward 22b for those dreadfully long stretches of time, dr J mentioned that maybe life doesn’t have some grand central meaning. maybe, life’s meaning can be found in small day-to-day occurences. i have been feeling rather down lately, and the idea of reverting to my old habits seems so enticing. to remind myself of why i put on a fight, here is a small (smol) compilation of little things that brought me some joy today.

i have been very tired, putting on this optimistic veneer every single day. i want to connect with my emotions but i don’t know how to do it without hurting myself. for now, i shall listen to my sad playlist and allow myself the luxury of wallowing in my sadness.

lord, i need you. lord, please keep me safe. in jesus’ name,