It’s weird looking back at a post I wrote not that long ago, reassuring myself that I’ll be able to handle things that come my way. I promised myself that if I ever found myself in any sort of prolonged slump or melancholy, I’d write it here so that I can make sure I can label it and work through it, hopefully with the support of those around me.  That’s where I am, having left so many of the support systems I’ve been privileged to be a part of in some of the most important years of my life and finding myself feeling alone in a country that’s ironically the most familiar to me.

Characterizing where I’m at right now is difficult. I’m physically here but mentally roaming the rest of the world. I’m slowly realizing that everyone else is moving on and that I’m trying so hard to stick to the person I was the past four years, the free travelling kid who only had his dreams as the limit. The truth is, though, that I am limited. The scholarship that was simultaneously the key to forming my identity for the past few years is also now calling its due, and rightly so. The terms are the same but not the stakeholders, and it’s taking mental and emotional effort to realign myself to this paradigm. The truth of the matter is that I want to be fully invested in this future that is laying itself out for me but I was never ready for the transition necessary. How could I be, I never knew what it was going to be like and very few people talk about it. So here I am, talking about it.

I’ve also recognized how important the friends and groups I’ve had have been to my life. These were spaces where I could be honest, vulnerable and not judged for my effort to grow through trial and experimentation. I don’t have those here and there’s a tension between putting in the work to maintain the friendships I have residing overseas and once again being vulnerable to a new group of people here.  The existential phase I’m going through right now is not helping, where the quest for purpose and deeper meaning stares at the current lack of stability as a deeper justification for the Dan Harmon-esque absurdism of the world. Why bother if everything is just a whirlwind of probabilities?

I have friends who have struggled with clinical depression, the pit of despair that can change one’s life altogether. I’m not there but I can see myself falling into patterns that I need to actively climb out of. Lethargy, disinterest, being more reclusive, and so I am trying to force myself to go out more. I have never gone to the gym as many times as I did this past week. I have asked old friends to meet up and told them where my mind is at so that it can no longer be a figment of my mind and an active demon I combat. I feel myself winning, even as I write these words. There are reasons to live and to fully be alive.

It is in times like these where I have appreciated my more optimistic posts of reflection. I find myself smiling and remembering what it’s like to be hopeful. The tragic irony of Singapore is that it’s so familiar that it’s become unfamiliar to my constant sense of awe and curiosity. I want to be passionate about changing Singapore but it seems like those who are here have fallen into a normalized sense of jadedness and apathy. At that point, I wonder if I’m the one that’s got it wrong. I have the friends who do challenge me otherwise, and so I decided to keep believing. I decide to actively imagine what the Rovik of June would have used to motivate himself and try to embody those passions.

It’s a difficult place where I am, but rather than run away from it, I suspect it may be worthwhile to push through it. You’ll hear more in August and hopefully, I’ll be here on a more optimistic note, but these emotions and thoughts are real and as I’ve promised in my first post, I am documenting my growth as a young person, however complex and messy it is because it’s important. If you’re reading this and you have been a friend, do reach out, I always enjoy the company.