Over the New Year, a friend moved back home to UK. I feel a great miss – she enjoys going to restaurants and she would make us all meet up once monthly. Now that she is gone, I feel that I have to step up so that I still have friends. To organise a day to go out requires a lot of to and fro discussion and a possibility of rejection. Perhaps I am just worried about rejection – I don’t know the depths of my despair.
Category / Self
About drawing
I started to draw only recently (2022). I tried watercolour and acrylic. It was difficult because I found that I couldn’t draw. I didn’t know how to look at something and execute it.
I hit the books to learn that skill. I borrowed a number of them from the library but I did not progress much. I found Artist Network series called Drawing Together on YouTube. The teacher is Scott Maier who has a great book out called See Think ,Draw. As he drew, he explained his decision making process and that made a lot of difference to a beginner. Each drawing taught a new skill and reinforced something else he was doing in another drawing.
The other problem was that I could not draw at home. It is a me problem. I kept interrupting myself to do household chores. My home isn’t that neat and tidy and that is why I felt a compulsion to clean and tidy up. To avoid this, I go out to the library to draw – after cleaning the home.
Younger, I had dreams of being a novelist but writing stopped being fun. I kept wanting my writing to be right on the first time. (This is impossible.) Plus, my inner critic kept saying whatever I had written is really bad. Drawing is way more fun mainly because I never wanted to be an artist. I have no plans to sell art or be well known for art. It is a new playground for me to explore. To have selfish fun.
When life hit me (husband had a heart attack), I needed that fun. My me problem melted away after I had a fall and was hospitalised. I couldn’t do any household chore. I couldn’t stand or walk. Sitting up was a challenge. So I had nothing except endless YouTube and drawing.
Currently, I can feel how amateur my drawings are – there is a stiffness in it. I need more drawing practice for it to go away.
Reddit probably encourages obsessions
I am on some financial subs and I think the fantasy of Financial Independence has completely consumed me. I am engaging in it on a daily basis. Saving and earning money is hard work and being obsessed with it makes it harder. There is nothing complex about FIRE that requires daily engagement. All FIRE requires is a good handle on one’s expenses and having discipline to saving money. I am so obsessed I compute scenarios with every calculator. In the process, getting sometimes confused, sometimes hopeful by all those different numbers that the calculators spit out. I didn’t know or realise how obsessed I was until I came across a beauty related subreddit.
I was shocked to read about how obsessed they are with beauty rituals and how the poster looks. Long conversations on wrinkles and intense discussions on layering serums. The type of questions asked is bordering on unhealthy obsession. The detailed and extremely micro stuff that nobody can really tell (eg, which eyebrow hair is out of place?) shocks me. While I do take a lot of care of my skin – sunscreen, lotions, etc I think I look average / plain / below average to others. That is, not memorable. I assume if I am unmemorable to myself, nobody else is really paying that close attention to me. The ladies & gents on’ here sub reddits seem to think everyone is holding a magnifying glass to their face every second.
I don’t need to obsess over the numbers. I know that I do it out of fear and insecurity. The unknown is terrifying and I am always padding the numbers “just in case”. Some people enjoy thinking about money. I am not one of them. I ◦ it largely out of anxiety & stress. Stress over work & wanting the stress to end.
A month ago I had a fall that got worse, requiring spitalisation & eventually surgery. I took a month off work. During my downtime, I gain a lot of clarity over my life choices.
Every decision stem from a conscious preference to play life on medium mode. I created busyness & difficulty in my life out of boredom. When life was on hard mode, I still felt boredom. I up my stress level. This sounds totally crazy. It is illogical. Yet I do it! And what happens next? Increase spend & eating on default. Leading to more money anxiety, more obsession about financial independence!
Crazy! I know!
A Strange Anxiety
I was seized by a strange feeling of urgency these 2 days. It felt like stress. I started to worry about some work that I am not assigned to and not doing. As a reaction to that anxiety I started to obsess over a bag that I was convinced that I need. It is as if I was pressed for timelines yet I am exhausted and getting very confused by the rapid yet very minor changes to slides. (That happens a lot.)
Thing is, I have been on medical leave and not paying any attention to the office going ons at all. I have not worked since I was admitted to the hospital.
A friend of mine expressed amazement that I truly have no desire to turn on the work machine and check my mails or reply to messages. I don’t want to. I also can’t – I can’t sit or stand for long. I will need a lie down to avoid swelling after being on my feet.
I wonder if this is part of decompression. My brain is trying to hold on to this anxiety because it is used to it.
Doors closing
There was a moment today. A very brief moment my friends showed scars from healed wounds. We were all there and we knew of those bad times. We knew how bad it was. Yet, when I saw the scars, it made me cry.
We were sharing favourite songs. I told my friends, I cried at work reading those lyrics. The random colleague across from me must be thinking I broke up or something. They laughed. And laughed more at the picture I took of me blubbing away.
Donald Justice has a poem about being 40 and I like to quote that at each birthday. Younger, I read in it regret, of aging, of responsibilities. Older, I see the suggestion of looking forward to something bigger than ourselves. Scars are the rooms that we leave behind to experience something else.
Googling myself on the wayback machine
I was watching a Chinese variety program 50公里桃花屋 (titled Wonderland in English) and there was a ‘game’ where the celebs went to speak in a mic at the open sea in Hainan. What is acceptable in chinese culture is a little strange in the more westernised programs. In variety shows like this, it appears that to encourage strong emotions, especially crying or wailing, is more than acceptable – it drives up the viewership. This explains a bit why 琼瑶 films make consistent appearance during the 80s. Every reality show or competition based program will have a segment to encourage high emotions. However, since the reality program has a number of celebs who won’t talk about their boyfriends/girlfriends, can’t talk about their friends who might be in the same industry, can only talk about their parents. It seemed very acceptable to create high emotions when speaking of their parents and their sacrifices. It is ok to speak of the difficult childhood but the appearance of filial piety win much more acceptance. This is in deep contrast to online chatter in Singapore. There is a lot of angst around narcissistic parents or emotionally unavailable parents so much so that one would have thought a generation of orphans abandoned to grandparents or maids, or being abused on a daily basis. In all societies, there will be parents who are unable to parent – however the magnitude of such conversation online does not match up to the kind of parenting I have observed in everday life. At most, the feeling of being overwhelmed by parents is likely caused by a lack of space and distance due to geog.
I wondered after turning off the television – more accurately youtube – if I felt sorry for myself, or my upbringing. I have always felt that my friends and my husband had a childhood. I only remembered beatings and piano lessons and homework. Older, I remember the favouritism that my parents practiced. I remember them but it is now so far away I don’t remember those feelings I felt when I was a child. It is as if I am watching someone else’s reel and it is not incredibly interesting. A friend of mine has always complained how robotic I am, and sometimes when she explains how much feelings she has, I am so surprised that there are so much emotions bubbling within a person. My feelings when they present themselves, are not layered and conflicted but exist the way a primary school child might describe them in a 500 word composition. I am not made of stone, I will often times complain but it sounds like a complain I’ve overheard on a train from a stranger to the friend. Nothing creative or new.
headbirth.com 