Moon

The moon is so pretty tonight. It casts the world in such a yellow faerie-like glow. It's such a pity that it's just the reflection of the Sun. In the end, it isn't even considered to be an individual in other's eyes.

Not trying

Distance changes people's hearts, including mine. The little details I used to remember of people are slowly fading away.

I have lost the feelings of awkwardness. I don't feel that way anymore. I see myself as a separate existence from the world I'm in now. My spirit is just trapped in this vessel as it watches dispassionately at the events of the world. I am in the world but not of the world.

And today, I just don't wanna try anymore.

Common demons

Today, I realised how common the demons of mental disorders are.

I forgot what we were talking about but as we were rushing for lunch today, P, C and I talked about dieting along the way.

C confessed that she had bulimia and that she still suffers from the occasional relapses. Her throat's now screwed up from all the vomiting she did in the past and once, she said that it went so badly that she had to be hospitalised and was given alkaline tablets to settle her acidic stomach. It was only when the doctor said that she'll be given a colostomy if he saw her again that she finally decided to fight against bulimia.

Similarly, P also said that she used to have really unhealthy eating habits that might lead to anorexia if not corrected. It was her coach that reminded her the importance of eating nutritious food and taught her the importance of regular meals.

All along, I thought I was the only one suffering from this but now, I realised I'm not alone.

I feel comforted by that fact (for misery surely makes better company) but horrified that mental disorders are getting increasingly common amongst teenagers. If this isn't a blaring beacon for help, I don't know what is.

The situation just looks bleak from hereon. I want to change the situation but I feel helplessly alone in this.

God, please send Your angels and bless every soul out there that feels this way. Let Your mercy prevail! Amen.

pathetic

I tried.

It's pretty unbelievable how Fate works out sometimes. I didn't have a blade with me so I took a needle and tried to stab my vein with it. Yet all it earned me was a tiny hole that resembled a cute 'lil mosquito bite. Minutes later, it swelled and now, my skin returns to normal as though nothing fucking happened.

Thank you body. All my efforts for fucking nothing.

I went to 7-11 to get myself a penknife. I was so fed up with needles and their inability to draw blood. Totally planned on doing it until my mom's face flashed in my mind.

So I returned to hall, dumped the fucking penknife on the table and wondered why the fuck is $2.50 an acceptable price for a penknife.

I feel like the world's encouraging my bad habits or something.

Maybe I should really try the cigarettes next time.

P.S. I like how the fucking racist fly disappears when I'm trying to poke myself but appears when I'm trying to study. Thank you fly, you're directly responsible for my death if I ever commit suicide.

P.P.S. I like how the song Staying In Your Light was playing in my head as I bought the penknife:

No one can take me away.
I'm staying in Your light today.

And it's just these two lines that are constantly repeating in my mind like a broken recorder. Maybe it's a sign from God huh? Who knows.

Fuck

School is supposed to make things better. It's supposed to provide me a distraction from the things that plague my mind.

But now it's the one driving me fucking insane.

I genuinely wanted to cry when I read Chaucer's The General Prologue I and I don't even know why. The use of Middle English is driving me crazy. If I had a penknife now, I'll probably slash the crap out of that poem. (before slashing myself, obviously)

I'm starting to hate this world that I am in. I just want a damn break from Middle English for fuck's sake. Why the fuck can't my brain process this crap? Fuck!

THEN THERE IS THE MATTER OF THE FUCKING RACIST FLY THAT I WON'T ELABORATE FURTHER. (Check my private twitter account @poodung)

It's like everything is going against me in the worst possible way and I really hate to say this but it's only been three weeks since school started but here I am already having a mental breakdown so what the fuck do I do with my life from now on?

I can literally feel the stress slowly piling up and choking me from the inside out.

All I wanna do right now is relieve it y'know? But I can't fucking cut cause I promised myself and I promised God and there are so many people out there who fucking care about me so I can't do this but fuck.

I NEED TO CUT.

Who the fuck cares at this point about this whole fucking issue when right now I'm three steps away from killing myself so to speak.

Fuck this crap.

Gimme a penknife and let's get this done and over with.

I wanna kill myself so badly tonight.

Undeserving

I don't deserve to have what I have now.

I'm so damn lucky sometimes I don't see it until it's right in front of my face. Like dammit! You've got so many damn people caring about you, loving you and yet you're still so fucking ungrateful and thinking all those damn shits you ain't supposed to be thinking.

I need someone to hammer me in the head with those rust coated nails so I'll get tetanus and the bacteria infecting my blood will help me see reason in this otherwise fucked up illogical world my head is in.

My thoughts are wrong and I hate them. I wanna drill positivity in my brain so I wouldn't forget it ever again but it isn't possible so here I am, stuck in the motions of having the devil in my head.

Fucking hallelujahs man.

fatigue

"I'm so tired of pretending 

to smile or laugh 

when the tears 

stream down endlessly.

I'm too numb to don 

the mask of pretence and lies

when the heart

is hardened at its core.

The nagging doubts and

their incessant chatter

chips at the walls of my soul.

I'm exhausted 

of the breaths every second;

the natural reflex

of my body that lives."

new way

I just read N's blog.

You're not a coward because you do not feel the pain. You're courageous because you feel despite the lack of pain.

I didn't say how cheap penknifes are being sold at Giant these days. It astonishes me when the world seems to encourage my bad habits.

I didn't buy it in the end, not because I didn't desire to cut, but because I didn't think it was worth it anymore.

I need to find a new way.

Lately, I've been thinking of cigarette burns. Or even razors or big knives that cut through my skin like a knife through butter. Maybe that will up the game. Make it more painful so I don't see the mess inside.

Other times, I just want a good old-fashioned bottle of pills. Make it all end and drown all the voices within.

tired

I used to always keep these thoughts in my head but now that I'm blogging them down, I feel more relieved than ever.

Sometimes, I still feel like I woke up in an alternate reality, that if I go back to sleep this instant, I'll wake up as a vet tech student, getting ready to go to TP for school.

I'm starting to feel less afraid of everything else. I think it's because I've stopped caring. Writing...? Well, bring it on. It isn't the first time I've written something horrible anyway.

During one of the lessons on Tuesday, we were asked about the last piece of writing that we wrote. I chuckled in my heart. My last piece of writing was this blog post.

The teacher broke us into groups and invited us to discuss our writings. Here's the conversation I had with fellow strangers in my course:

Xx: So what was the last writing that you did, Amelia?

Me: I wrote a blog entry since I do blogging and stuff.

Xx: That's cool! So who do you write for?

Me: My friends? I write to update them about my life.

Xx: So is your blog public or private?

Me: I have a public and a private blog.

Haha. Isn't that the irony? What I didn't tell her was that the public blog was meant for me to pen down all my depressing thoughts while my private blog was meant for my friends to bask in the cheerfulness of my false identity.

I'm feeling tired of this. I tried to study yesterday but I don't know what I'm supposed to interpret and I don't know how to answer the tutorial questions either.

My best relief right now is dissociation from reality. It helps me breathe at night though I really wouldn't count it as living.

stressed

Literature is hard. I barely understand a thing. The lecturers teach really fast too. I don't know if I'll be able to catch up to what they're saying. I don't know if I'll even pass.

I feel so stupid out of a sudden. What am I, a vet tech graduate, doing here in English literature? Who do I think I am?

I've overestimated my abilities. I don't think I'll be able to pass all of my modules. One of the assignments is a textual analysis, but how do I submit a textual analysis when I don't even know where to start?

And I'm supposed to choose the text by myself? I love Shakespeare but I don't understand what he's writing man. I don't even understand what I'm supposed to understand.

I'm panicking and I don't know how to resolve it. Just like how I'm praying but I don't feel the peace just yet.

God bless me. I really need You right now.

Give me faith to move this mountain
Walk me through my darkest nights
In the valley I know, Your love remains
No, I'm not afraid.

good day

Today is a good day. Well, it can be good or bad depending how you look at it but it's good cause I realised that my new friend P lives on the same block as me. P and her roomie, A are all very friendly towards me and I am very thankful for that.

Times like these, I feel that God is in control. He knows what I'm feeling and He's sending His little angels to watch over me.

If only it feels like this everyday...

But I guess I'm expecting too much.

Time to go for an interview. Here's to no expectations of getting in at all!

small world

The past has funny ways of catching up to you sometimes. When you're least aware of it, it delivers its lethal punch, catching you off guard and taking your breath away.

When I was in my second church, the church I spent most of my life in, I met many friends and had lots of fun. As our church had many services, the constant shuffling between services enabled me to meet many more people than usual. One of them I cheerfully dubbed my service 1 clique was R and V.

I still keep in contact with V these days, but over the years after I left church, I distanced from R and never saw her again.

Then came university and now she's my senior majoring in literature which is the same major I'm studying. Haha. Life works in funny ways huh? Everyone knows one another here in this small forsaken country.

Listing another example: I just had a tutorial class and in my group I met this girl who knew one of my poly mates as they were from the same secondary school.

It's really a small world out here in Singapore.

free

Today, I met a friend I haven't met in a long while. I don't know why I've been avoiding her presence. I must have hurt her by my actions; acting like she's something despicable when she's done nothing wrong to me. I don't know why I'm behaving this way either, but today, when I met her for the first time in months, everything felt normal.

I know I should be happy about it but I'm not and I don't want to pretend to be. I guess I'm just tired of all these people binding me to life. I feel trapped most of the time. Love has never felt more constricting than this.

I just want to be free.

But alas, as chained as the birds of the air are to a life of flight and endless journeys, so am I trapped in this senseless cycle of patterns called life, locked up by society standards and heavily guarded by my assigned morals. All of which they say are done in the name of love.

*chuckles*

How lovely can love get when the loved doesn't even feel the love from the loving and the loving doesn't love the loved enough for them to feel loved?

#irony

power of the subconscious

We had a family meeting yesterday. As usual, it felt like a court hearing; a judge waiting to give its final judgement. Many issues were brought up in that discussion and one of them was about the current financial situation in our family.

I don't usually concern myself with such issues. I tell myself the more ignorant I am, the more blissful I'll be. It's a pity I can't remain in blissful ignorance forever. Life just has to make itself be known to others.

We discussed my allowance and the money spent on me each month for studies and other miscellaneous stuff. The total amounted to $1000. My mom announced she's raising my daily pocket money to $20 per day. It came as a huge shock to me. I had always wanted an increment in my daily pocket money. I'm a big eater and I love good quality meals, but when she told me she was gonna double the sum of my current daily allowance, all I felt was shame. Shame that I was expecting so much from a family that I knew wasn't rich. Shame that they were wasting money on me which I deemed unworthy.

That elegiac (new word learnt from my literature modules) mood swept over me like a dark cloud and stubbornly persisted even when I was in service today.

I sat with my connect group. I didn't want to but I knew that I couldn't avoid them forever. I might as well get it over and done with. Sure enough, it was as boring and as lonely as expected.

I glanced at the screen of my leader's phone and I realised that she has created a separate whatsapp chat called the E4 core members. I wasn't invited to that chat. I would say I feel sad about it but I really didn't. I just don't know why they wouldn't let me transfer back to E21 if they don't even consider me a key member of the group. I guess they just want to hold onto me. I wish I could tell them they're holding onto nothing.

Time passes but nothing's really changed. At least the existence of Crusade proves that I can socialise with Christians just fine. I was starting to think that something is wrong with me so it's an utter relief to know that I'm normal at least in that aspect.

It's funny how church is such a holy and sanctified sanctuary but it doesn't prevent the demons in my head from screaming at me. Worship songs used to minister to me in the past. Now I'm just throwing myself into worship to avoid the thoughts that plague me. I close my eyes and I see blood. Not Jesus's blood but blood that runs straight from my cut wrists.

I don't feel suicidal but I feel some of my bad old habits kicking in. Sometimes, my soul just leaves my body and it's like I'm there but yet I'm not. I feel like I'm disappearing and in those moments of blankness, I feel contented.

I met with N today. She had a little cut on her arm. It was too straight to be an injury and too shallow to be a papercut. I felt like asking her then, "Was cutting worth it in the end? Did it take any of your pain away?"

But I didn't. I was too afraid. I didn't want to start a conversation both she and I weren't ready for. I don't think it'll end well for either of us. I admire her though. She, at least, has the courage to do something I can't.

Speaking of N, I'm working with her and E to write a story together. It's a collaboration among the three of us. To be honest, I don't really want to participate in this project at all. It isn't that I dislike N or E or anything like that. I just don't think I'm capable of writing original stories at this point. There was a reason I stuck to fanfiction stories for so long. I can't do character development. I hate my writing style. I don't like anything I write, period. If I could change anything about my past stories, I'll change them all.

Once, in an attempt to encourage me, friend M told me that I had to have talent to have that many subscribers to my Asianfanfic account. She said it like it was proof that I was a talented writer. To me, there is nothing further from the truth than that. I'm not talented. I'm just being a crowd pleaser; translating the wishes of fans into fictional stories for their enjoyment. There is nothing remarkable about that. I'm not like J. K. Rowling who created an entire world of magic based on her imagination alone. Or like Conan O Doyle who created the world sensational detective, Sherlock Holmes. I wish I was that good, but I'm not.

I wonder if I'll ever be.

Just last night, I thought of an original story plot and I shared it with the rest, never telling them where my inspiration came from. The story plot goes like this:

Title: 21 Days of Happiness

Summary: Melanie and Allie have been best friends since they were six years old. They lost contact when they were twelve but reunited at twenty-one in the same university. The girls are thrilled to have found each other again but as Melanie draws closer to Allie, she soon discovers that Allie has changed drastically since her childhood days. As a sudden loss of her family sends Allie reeling from shock and despair, an opened diary reveals the secret that Allie has been harboring all along.

Diagnosed with clinical depression since she was eighteen, Allie now intends to kill herself at her 21st birthday to break the curse she believes she has inflicted upon her family.

Now, left with 21 days till Allie's 21st birthday, can Melanie convince Allie that her family deaths are not her fault and give her 21 days of happiness to convince her to stay?

It was a surprisingly well-received plot. I sent it to M, TW, N and E. All said it was interesting. N and E were willing to work on it. I find it really ironic since it was N who inspired me to think of this whole plotline anyway.

I told M that and she asked me if the name 'Allie' was picked intentionally since it sounded so similar to N's name. I told her it wasn't on purpose and that is the truth. If ever it was intentional, it was probably a subconscious action.

M believed me but her words got me thinking:

Sometimes (perhaps) the power of the subconscious can be stronger than the conscious ones.

It's probably why I wore long sleeves to church even though I had nothing to hide. Perhaps, some part of me feels too bare, too vulnerable and too exposed to the world. That's why I wore more cloth to hide the sin and shame I felt inside.

But more isn't always better.

And despite the extra cloth donned on me, I did not feel any different from before.

I'm still drowning. It's just with extra baggage this time around.

Yet another day in life for me.

❤ ❣ ♥ ღ N ღ ♥ ❣ ❤

I have a friend who thinks like me, who battles the same demons that I have in my head.

If this was a movie, the love between us would be sufficient to pull us back into the light and for the darkness that plague our thoughts to flee from us forever. Sadly, life isn't a movie and the story just doesn't end like that.

N's depressed. She's not clinically diagnosed but she exhibits all the signs of depression anyway. Like me, she self harms and suicide is a common thought on her mind. We both find it therapeutic to read the dark thoughts that goes through each other's heads. I don't know if this means we're both going insane (or we already are), but she wrote something on her blog which I felt struck a tender chord in my heart so I'm sharing it here:

She also mentioned in her main blog that it is therapeutic to read my posts. I understand how that feels because I am glad that I am not the only one among my friends who ended up with the shadows. At the same time, I want her to get out of here as soon as possible because it is a dangerous place to be. When people die here, it is called, suicide. 

Loss of all sight of light, the darkness consumes you and all you want to do is die. However, the people around you wants you to keep on fighting and break for the light (lights that you cannot see at all; the darkness has blinded you). The people who love you are evil as fuck to not let you go where you think you truly belong: Hell. I know. It is exactly what I felt. Which is why many months ago I had asked you that question. That if letting go of me would make me happy, would you do it? 

Over time I realise it is so essential for the both of us to be in each other’s lives. So we know how each other feel, and at the same time how our friends feel. Like I know how the thoughts run in your head and how agonising that is, but I am also your friend and I'm trying to help you find a way out of it. It is a personal battle but I know, I will always be just a phone call away. 

You are alone fighting the demons but you are also not alone because your friends love you, and they will be here for you. Even if they are not, you can't bear to leave because you don't want them to suffer from the regret of not being there for you when you needed them. You don't want to be any more fucked up than you already are.

And that's the advantage of having a depressed friend. N understands what I'm feeling without me having to say a single thing.

When the time comes and I surrender and stop fighting, N will know why. Others may deem the act selfish and rash but N will know the battles I had fought and the times I struggled to win against them. She'll know everything 'cause like me, she's someone who knows how it feels like to be living with the madness in your head.

It's the same demon inflicting its harm on different minds. It's elusive but omnipotent. It's everywhere but it can never be seen. This makes the war tough. How do you battle against something you cannot see? How do you even find the will to fight?

and this ❤ just cracked a little at the thought of that.

N's presence is essential though. It's comforting to know you're not alone sometimes. A war alone is tough to fight.

N asked for my address a few days before, and sent me a letter even though we're living just 10 - 15 bus stops away and she could have texted me any time. I guess she just wanted to write to me badly. Perhaps in her eyes, letters are more sincere than text messages.

The letter contained her heartfelt words and at the end of the letter I received, she wrote these words:

"Stay strong. Promise me ten years down the road we'll look and be proud we've survived it all."

I stared at the letter. I let the words sink into my mind. Then, I thought to myself, "How did she know that these were the perfect words that I needed to hear?"

and this ❤ was made whole by her words.

I stood there, awestruck and mesmerised. It was like magic, and it lasted only for a moment in time. Life was perfect, and everything fitted in like bits and pieces of a beautiful jigsaw puzzle. In that instant, I was happy and I know N will appreciate the enormity of the sentence I just said.

But happiness doesn't last, and though I wish I promised not to die upon reading the letter she sent me, I didn't 'cause I couldn't and I wouldn't, and I'm sure she knows the answer why.

Thinking back to the question she asked me in the past:

"If letting go of me will make me happy, will you do it?"

Till now, I'm still not sure if I have the right answer to that question. I guess I'm not sure if I even wanna give the right answer anymore.

Just please keep fighting, N. For you, for me and for countless other souls who are battling the same demons as us.

shackles and chains

"I don't know how you do it sometimes. You look at the world like it's something new. You feel happy seeing the pale blue skies and the daffodils swaying in the wind. It seems like you love being in this world, but what's so good about it? I look around and all I see is Death. An ant getting trampled upon by a pair of sneakers. A spider eating its own kind after it gives birth to multiple eggs. Where is the beauty in all of that? I'm so sick of the world sometimes. It's corrupted, grotesque and absolutely disgusting.

I hate the social talks; the connections that everyone tells me are important to forge. I hate the big fake smiles and stupid lies. I hate the fact that the world's in colour cause I rather it be black and white. I don't understand why they say we're living. We're all waiting for our turn to die. It's just a matter of time. Why the hell are we so optimistic about life when we, in fact, should mourn the fragility of it? 

I like how they're trying to convince me that I'm being morbid. No, I'm not. I'm just facing facts. I'm living to finally die."

I wonder if I actually believe in my words sometimes. I give others such good advice about faith and beliefs but I don't even know what belief I subscribe to anymore. Most days I surround myself with people. I guess I don't want to be left by myself. I know what I will do, so I guess some part of me is still fighting this. I'm just not fighting as hard as I used to.

She confessed that she cut recently. It's sick and twisted of my mind to say this but I'm actually fucking envious that she gets to do that. I know I'm not supposed to be jealous of her but I can't help it. I wish so fervently these days that people will stop caring about me so that I can be free to do what I want. I know logically that what I want is wrong but that doesn't change the fact that I want it so desperately much.

I remember being worried that I wouldn't have friends in university, but now that I have friends, I actually feel burdened by it. Why am I adding shackles and chains to bind me to this tiring torturous life? I can't do as I please anymore. I have to actually live on this stupid planet and struggle with these stupid thoughts that don't make sense to me as much as I to myself.

My life is fucking perfect but I feel so imperfect. I remember him saying that he's worried for me because he heard from others that English Literature is one of the tougher courses in my university. He tried so hard to forge connections on my behalf 'cause he's worried for my future. I told him not to bother about it but I never told him why. Truth is, I don't care anymore. Not a single cell in me gives a damn fuck about my future.

I wish I could take my life back. I don't see why God keeps me alive sometimes. I had so many chances to die but He just won't let me die. I dream of blood running down my wrists, a noose tightening around my neck and drowning, nice lovely drowning in the dark cold sea but every single time, I wake up and it's only a dream. I don't know if I should call it a nightmare at this point. Maybe that would be a better word to describe it. It's a fucking nightmare. I'm a fucking nightmare.

I hate this. I'm actually starting to see love as a burden. BC questions why I'm pushing people away from my life. I just don't see the point in it anymore. I don't even wanna continue my life. The more people who leave, the more desirable.

Unlike she who wishes to write a book to send a message before she dies, I have no such ambition or dream. I don't have a goal for my future. I don't even see myself graduating from university. I can already imagine the failure or shame I will feel. Damn. Why am I even here? God, why?

This whole situation sucks, but you know what's the worst part about this whole damn situation? I cannot die because I know people will actually miss me when I die. I'm not concerned about my damn life but people are and that fucking sucks because that robs away my will to commit suicide.

So thank you people for preserving my damn life. I don't even know what the fuck you want me to do with it. I hate it so much but you want me to live it. Why the fuck will you do that?

I wanna trade my life to another soul out there please. I'm sure someone's dying out there and deserves to live way more than I do. Just take it away from me and live. I'm very much willing to die.

Just let me be dead already.

talents

I don't know how to describe this feeling I have right now. Is it because two of my closest friends have decided to go into a relationship together? Is this why I'm feeling this acute sense of loss?

I feel sad and lost, but I don't know why. Her getting together with him is a good choice. They'll be happy together. It's another connection that'll be severed from me. I'm free now.

But why do I feel like this? I hate my emotions now. University fills me with great dread. I'm so worried about everything I'm numb now.

I'm reminding myself to pray to God but somehow, I just can't muster the will to do it. Everything is in blurred vision. Feels like I'm watching a drama unfold sometimes; a play of my life.

Time flies really fast. I met with the clique today. We chatted about him and her getting together. Everyone was happy, or happily confused. It did seem rather sudden after all. Although if you ask me, it was kinda predictable.

Laughs. Well, at least I did tell BC I'm somewhat sinking again. I feel bad for troubling him with such thoughts but the logical side of me needs to tell someone I'm dying on the inside.

In actual fact, aren't we all dying?

I'm worried what will happen to me from the future on. Will I be happier? Or will I have the wrong kind of courage to end my life and just live in the hell I was supposed to end up in?

I don't know. Some days I feel so motivated to fight but most days, I just wanna sit by a window and watch time fly by.

I read a book called Biting Anorexia by Lucy. It's really interesting cause it gives me an insight to how an anorexic feels and the struggles they go through as they battle their mind daily.

It really isn't different at all. Depression, self-harm, anorexia, bullimia or even suicidal ideation. They're all the same demon in different forms, lying monsters that poison you against your body, to take away the life that was given to you by God.
These demons are the devil's new way of attacking us and destroying our confidence and trust in God.

I'm sad to say that they're winning.

I'm even more sad to say that I have long forgotten the sound of victory.

A conversation between my friend and I:

She: Did you know that xx had depression?

Me: Yes. He composed a piano piece about him giving up. I cried hearing it.

She: Wow. Why is it that talented people like him are always depressed?

Me: Cause depressed people are usually always talented.

They just don't see it, as do I.

♥

stuck in limbo

Here it goes again. Another battle to be fought. I can hear the sirens blasting from afar. The cars that zoom past me as I walk down this lonely road. I'll let the darkness engulf me. I'll sink into the shadows and never emerge again. I won't see the light no more.

Everyday, time is flying by. I feel like I should be aware of it but I'm not. I see all the perfectness of my life so why do I still feel so broken inside? They say it gets better in time, and it did get better with time. It's easier to manage, way more easier to hide.

What does it speak of me that I'm choosing to avoid my problems instead of facing them head on? I'm a coward. Others have so much faith in me that I'll survive this but I know I won't. Some days I feel like a warrior but tonight, I feel like a slump. I feel pathetic. I've accomplished so much but here I am again, being back to my old self. The end has come full circle.

I haven't fallen that far yet. It's at the wavering point when I can actually choose to fight it or not. These demons in my head... Are they ever not gonna go away? Sometimes, I wish I had more resolve. Why can't I be as strong as others? If only I can fight as hard as them... Maybe then I wouldn't be the pathetic person that I am now.

Four years of loneliness...

That's the future I'm looking forward to. Even if I managed to pull through, so what? Living but I'm dying inside... It's like the song that was written by Jamestown story, Goodbye (I'm sorry):

I'm in a fleshy tomb buried up above the ground
It's no use, why should I hold on?

Tonight, that's how I feel. Fucking pathetic but here I am again. I wonder if I'll ever make that rash decision that will take my life away. I'm too cowardly to fight on but somehow, I don't think I have enough courage to kill myself either. So here I am again, I guess. Stuck in the limbo.

I just read back my past entries. Apparently my family thinks I should land myself in Humanities and Social Sciences. Look at what happened! Viola, their wishes have come true. Here I am in English Literature, feeling more stupid than ever.

Many years have passed and nothing seems to change huh? Sometimes I wonder, why do I even feel the need to constantly please everyone? Why is it so hard sometimes to put myself as a priority?

I tried to cut off so many friendships a few months back. I thought it'll be healthy for my mind if I surround myself with cheerful friends and just think positive thoughts all the time. Clearly, it hasn't worked out, has it?

I realise how different I am now as compared to the past. During polytechnic orientation, I was still friendly and open to meeting new people. Now, here in university, the social side of me just crashes. I'm not sure if she even exists anymore. I don't know why. I find it so hard to talk to people these days. It ain't even their fault. It's mine. I have lost the motivation to talk to people, to smile with them, laugh with them and make those precious memories together. I feel like I've lost everything. What's there left for me?

My friends love me a lot, and so does my family, so why does it feel so inadequate? Is it because I neglect to love myself? God, why is this happening to me now? I thought I was over this. I sincerely thought I kicked chronic sadness in its ass so why is this darkness creeping back into my soul again?

You know what's scary? I'm living in a dorm at NTU now. I'm afraid cause right now, I haven't even meet my room mate. What if I don't have one? What if I have one? If I don't have one, I'll be left alone with my dangerous thoughts. What if I kill myself then? But what if I have one? It'll be social interactions all over again. Will I even be able to stand it? I hate this part of me that cringes away from people now. I feel like I'm losing me yet, I'm growing into a new me at the same time. I don't know what to do.

I want to minor in creative writing. I want to learn how to write better stories but I'm afraid of the 'workshop-ing' that is in that module. Basically, we're asked to read our works in front of the classroom and let our works be criticised openly by others.

I'm so damn scared. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of a relapse and I don't want to go back to those dark days. But I feel my heart inclining towards creative writing. I mean, c'mon, that's why I joined this stupid major in the first place right? So why am I hesitating over this? Why aren't I strong enough?

I'm so worried for everything. School's starting next week and I haven't made a single friend. There's nobody to go to school with me. Nobody to talk with me. Nobody to make me laugh. Am I truly so repulsive that no one wants to talk to me? I feel so ashamed of myself out of a sudden.

I hate me. I still hadn't gotten to the stage of loving her yet. I still find myself repulsive, now more so than ever. I went to pulau ubin last month. I had a great fall, much like Humpty Dumpty. I have scars reminding me of that incident. Huge ugly white scars marring my left leg. Haha. I should feel upset. I really should, but after the initial bout of sadness, now I feel nothing. I'm scarred everywhere anyway. What's another scar to add to this mess?

I feel so scarred deep inside. I don't know how to help me. Sometimes, I feel like God is watching me and He isn't doing a thing to help me. I feel like such a bitch cause I'm blaming God for my helpless state and this isn't right. I should be thankful for what He has already done for me. Stop expecting more, Amelia, let it go.

I wonder if I can let me go. While comforting N on one of her darker episodes, I told her this: If you don't kill yourself today, you're giving yourself courage to live for tomorrow.

Now, I feel like I'm not giving myself courage at all. I feel like I'm avoiding the battle cause I'm too scared to face anything right now. I need to sort out my time table by next week but I'm just so overwhelmed by everything I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm drowning and breathing at the same time. Is this what it feels like to be hanging off the edge? Cause it sure as hell feels like I'm being pulled into two different directions.

Haha.

I really need to stop doing this to myself man. Cheer up Amelia. Cheer up. Even if the world is fucking dark, you've gotta believe that the light will eventually come man. C'mon. Man up! You need to keep the faith going.

Stop killing yourself inside. You aren't doing anyone any favours.

GET UP.

and shut the fuck up, dark thoughts.