A Little Something.

I’m sorry,

I knew how you feel about me.

But I can’t do nothing, 

‘Cause it was not befitting.

Basis of friendship,

We did not have.

To say a little more;

To try a little more.

To do a little more thinking;

To fight for a little something.

Perhaps if I liked you a little more,

I’ll be convinced a little more.

Perhaps then I’ll be hinting,

We could’ve been a little more of something.

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Alcoholism.

I’m actually really riled up now on the topic above. I’m not really vetting this post, seriously I just need to get my thoughts out so please pardon me, my language, and any disorganization in thoughts.

Let me go to the heart of what it is first. I’m an advocate that people needs to learn how to cope with our emotions and thoughts, and we need to rationalize to a certain degree in order to understand ourselves. The journey to understand ourselves, as well as other human being is endless, thus we should always keep mindful of our actions. I’m not freaking perfect, but I try. By trying means,  to want to get out of undesirable situations if it’s not good for our physical and mental well-being. I am to date, still learning which is why difficult as hell it was, I quit smoking. That’s not the only thing I tried, but I guess that isn’t the focus for this post.

So today I was concern over a friend’s emotional state, thus have passed on information to his friends to be there to speak to him. I raise concerns over his disorientation with reality and he is slightly delusional. It’s not an insult I’m trying to make but an actual problem that I’ve observed. Knowing this friend for so long, I was seriously quite taken aback to know how he took imagination as facts as lived by it. (Not including the fact that I thought back about things he said about his life for the past 10 years and wonder if any of them were illusions too).

I understand that my friends aren’t showy emotionally all the time. And when problems arises they tend to oppress it. I mean everyone has a limit to hide their emotions, one day it comes back, in a different form. It never really goes away. Thus, we need to deal with it head on, and not let it manifest into something bigger or more evil. Even the cheeriest and most successful people might face this, but unhappiness is seriously something that everyone faces.

So I brought about the point that my friend starting drinking again, every day, every 2 days they are drinking.

I have nothing against drinking. But my case here is this – using alcohol by a mean of permanent disablement to emotions or rather to permanently cope with emotions is not okay.

I knew my friends way before, just that we talked more in the past 10 years. We wouldn’t say we’re all super close. They drink almost every day or every 2 days whenever they are single. They drink a lot more when they get out of relationship. Sometimes masked as a reason to celebrate, but actually mostly to numb that emotion. I’m really worried because it means, they never actually learn to acknowledge, understand or cope with what they feel.

I spoke to 3 people now, and they all tell me that “this is a guy’s thing”, “it’s okay what”, “just drink lor”, “sad then come out drink”. No guys, it’s not okay. Empowering them to numb their emotions via alcohol is not okay. Somebody needs to tell them that, it’s okay to feel this way, you can have some alcohol but it should not be your only method to deal with emotions that are foreign to you, or any type of pain. Yes one week, sometimes 1 month, or a period of few months on some days, I get it.

But drinking for months every day or every year, and then showing you never actually grew out of a broken relationship, or the emotions and putting on a facade or rationalism is not going to help you in the long run. We live to feel and we learn how to get out. That’s the damn drive we should have. Besides the fact that it harms you physically and financially (you gotta be doing financially okay , even if you’re drinking cheap alcohol everyday), it also harms our mental health and impairs our judgement.

I dislike that mental health is neglected by many, and that we do not seek active methods to take care of it. It’s even more apparent in males. I mean seriously, so what if you earn a bloody paycheck but your heart is dead inside. Have you really lived, dude?

Ever wondered why the more emotionally oppressed societies have higher suicide levels? Societies that put more pressure on public actions and emotional outbursts, or societies in which drinking is a culture has higher suicide rates?

Uhhuh.

It’s okay to feel. It’s okay to be not okay sometimes.

Ultimately, my friends can do whatever they wanna do. We need to express more, and I’m working on that myself too. I’m not going to preach or impose on them, and neither is anyone going to be able to do that to me. But I will share my concerns.

Honestly I worry. I worry about myself. I worry about losing my ability to feel. I worry about getting hurt too much I choose this same path too. I worry about the society being a bunch of lunatics one day because they forgot how to deal with emotions. Once we forget how to deal with it, we make poor choices, we become a clam. We shut off, we manifest disorders. Some people consider suicide. And, suicide figures are apparently more significant in alcoholics. It’s pretty correlated, check this out “Alcohol is involved over a quarter of all suicides in the US (approximately 7500 per year). Suicide is 120 times more prevalent among adult alcoholics than in the general population. Alcohol abusers have higher rates of both attempted and completed suicide than non-abusers.

But stop telling me I’m worrying too much. This is a stand that grounded me. Alcoholism – which I would refine my stand as an OVER-RELIANCE to alcohol – is not freaking okay. And if you hate this aspect about yourself, trust me, you are more than capable to change. I’m putting my thoughts out here, hopefully the people who have this stand too wouldn’t feel as alone as I am with some of my alcoholic friends.

Intoxicate.

After twenty odd years of my life,
I finally had one day,
I was so high,
I went to order Mcdonald’s,
Alone for supper.

What’s the big deal right?!

I haven’t ate Mcdonald’s in years.
(In fact, I don’t even remember when I last had it.)

Strangely, with the number of friends I have who love drinking, I never had a time which I drank until I was seriously was decently high and happy. I never did enjoy it fully, since I associate drinking with drama, boomer’s bile, immature boys, missing friends and remembering everything that everyone else forgotten. I have always been pretty hard on myself, telling myself to never get drunk, conduct myself well etc. I’m always super hard on myself, telling myself to never get drunk, conduct myself well etc.

I think I had an amazing breakthrough.

Incognito.

It’s the kind of ticklish pain etched onto the skin, when a person, like chapters to an intriguing novel, can never be unraveled. A hunger that devours the heart and mind, it makes one wait for daylight — awake without a flicker.

Impassioned.

I don’t understand how someone could express my thoughts half a century earlier and double a dozen times clearer.

I frequently mentioned that if I had a choice, I would choose to be born a boy. However I wasn’t given that choice and I always believed in taking things in stride. I’ve appreciated what I’ve been given and never considered being anything less than a woman, except, I believe in female strength and equality. As kids, we were all told to have our own big dreams and creating our special impact in this world we co-exist in. Somewhere though, I believe things went a little awry and people conform to stereotypes, stereotypes of race, gender. People were told where they belong and how to be themselves.

Standing at 5 foot 2, I came from a protective Asian family with siblings one to two decades older and my parents, almost 3 times older. The following quote sits especially well with me.

“Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all this is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always supposedly in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yes, God, I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…

– Sylvia Plath

Inhibited.

You and your idealistic self will bring the death of all kinds of relationship. I could tell it has been hard holding yourself to emotional and moral standards, only the mirror could fathom.

You’re all grown up. It’s safe now, to let your emotions be seen. You’ve been through enough to know where it’s safe not to be reigned. You finally know who would stick through the weird and lovely sides of you. And even so no matter what happens, you have you. You, that believe in what you always have. I know you know how powerful your own feelings could be, you’ve seen and felt them when it was premature. It’s time to face them head on yet again, with newfound wisdom and maturity honed over the years.

I trust that you can be safe now, to feel depth and soulfulness. And I wish you love and luck, garnering all the good fortune and karma accumulate, to find that one meaningful kindred spirit.

Incarcerate.

A physical reaction to attempts of caging, cornering or pressurizing. An adverse effect to intrusion of privacy, as well as freedom of physical & mental personal spaces. I always gave a lot of freedom, because that is what I crave. And of course with freedom, people couldn’t understand how to build trust. Trust is about values, trust is also about morals. I believe in giving freedom as long as moral compasses and values of people are aligned. Therefore, these ring true to all my relationships, both romantic and platonic.

Sat in a cafe with a friend on a typical erratic weather Sunday. Got bitten by hungry mosquitoes and moved indoors. My mind was being picked at, people wondered about me, my life and my decisions. I loved and admired that curiosity and genuine interest, at the same time because intentions weren’t blatant, it was suffocating. It was suppose to be mindless and casual, but indirect intentions started suffocating my need for liberty. Was my idealistic self at work again? I wondered why people would be more interested in my activities yesterday or tomorrow, instead of who I am today and experience me being present then and there. That’s what I truly feel happy about, when someone makes himself (herself) available to be present for me. That’s how I feel I’m important.

It started to become noisier. People were shouting over background gibberish. The cafe was full. My head started spinning as neon lights started flashing. I felt f*cking claustrophobic.

Indulgence.

I remember this sun. This is the happy sun. Feeling how it burns on my skin, it reminded me of happy times. Happy times when I was in Korea traveling on my own and taking photos with newly acquainted strangers. It was the same sun when I exited the fruit farm in Shanghai. It was the same sun when we set out with the yacht at Punggol Marina. The same sun I woke up to, to fall asleep on the bench of a neighborhood swimming pool. And all of these were times when I was present and indulging in that moment, of how beautiful the world, of how beautiful it is, to just live.

Sometimes I think you’re an irony. Actually we are all living ironies. We contradict ourselves everyday and somehow, somewhere inside us we have ongoing battles about what we believe, what we think and what we should do. I realise you can’t seem to accept yourself. Afraid that others would judge you and hoping to please others but what you want is unattainable, not freakin’ possible, mainly because of the way you are. You put personal interest before those of others. You find faults in words of genuine concern of loved ones. That lack of trust would be a massive pitfall.

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