A blank screen in front of her, all she wants to do is to convert her thoughts into words. What’s that? Its just her thoughts. It’s trapped in her head like a guilded cage. Just like her.
She’s nothing but an empty shell these days
Punch the wall. Just punch.
There isnt much that she has been doing. No, no, she’s been doing a lot. She’s been lying. She’s been hiding. She’s been crying. She’s naught but a shadow of her former self. Her very essense leaving her in little slips. So slowly that she barely notices it.
Don’t think about anything else, concentrate on the pain.
What’s that? That’s her pile of work. Her procrastination. Her consequence for being so mentally fucked up. What’s that? Can you hear it too? Its her silent screams that radiates from her eyes. It’s the anguish in her heart. It’s the desperation to escape everything. Do you hear it too?
Abort, abort, abort,
delete all thoughts. Punch. Just punch it. Ouch, the skin split. It’s okay. Keep punching.
What’s that? You feel that too? The heaviness in her heart? The panic that rises up her throat? She isn’t getting any better is she? She’s clambering. She doesn’t know what she’s doing anymore.
There’s blood. Punch through it. You deserve the pain.
My second consultation with a psych and psychiatrist here was interesting. I felt a want, almost a need to tell them that I am recovered and all right. But maybe that’s just me kidding myself right? School’s about to start soon and my nerves are firing again. What if I collapse in class, hyperventilating, having a panic when everyone thinks it’s a seizure? I missed two doses of my medication on accident and I find myself nauseous and light headed. If this is the beginning of my relapse, I’m frankly afraid to think about what’s going to happen when school starts. I worry again. I mean, it’s just like having a cramp. Once you get rid of the cramp, you start to be paranoid in how you walk or how you stretch in case you trigger it again.
What’s the trigger? Stress? Loneliness? I find myself looking out into the ominous night just wondering what the hell did I put myself through in the past few years.
To be honest and truthful, the only word that can describe me right now is : afraid.
Taken with my 60D when I flew on a hotair balloon with my family. It was 1000ft above the ground and do not estimate me when I say how tempting it was to just casually tip over the basket and free fall down to nothing. It takes confidence and pride, dignity and love to continue life.
It was dark times and I don’t ever want to go there again. I still see blades that can slice into my skin everywhere I go. I still feel a tad bit suicidal every time an opportunity passes. I’m scared because I feel so alone. When depression overwhelms you, you start to believe that you’re the only one in the world who cares for you – which is not true. And the worst part of the day is right before you try to sleep, when there’s nothing to distract you and there’s nothing to make you busy, and all that’s left to entertain you is the thoughts that you’ve managed to push out during the day. The thoughts that haunt you even in your sleep. You only realize how precious things are when you’re about to lose them or when you’ve actually lost them. Don’t wait until it’s too late…
Don’t you know? Don’t you know things can change. Things’ll go your way if you hold on for one more day. Can you hold on for one more day? Things’ll go your way. Hold on for one more day
The quote above is from a song called “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips. Judging by the pop music from the 21st century, this song isn’t the most catchiest of songs. But the lyrics caught me. While listening to it on the radio, it hit right on home. I’ve faced suicide attempts three times and each one more traumatic than the last. It’s still extremely hard to think about them in detail. I could still remember every single thought that ran through my mind. I could still remember the ringing in my own ears. Suicide isn’t a solution to this, there’s more to life than this.
For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.
IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR A SIGN THAT TELLS YOU NOT TO ATTEMPT OR COMMIT SUICIDE, THIS IS IT.
Hold on for one more day. Hold on for one more moment. You’re stronger than you believe. Mental disorders are liars, they tell you that you’re weak, you’re unloved and you’re at a dead end. Stay strong, and stay positive. Please, if you think tonight’s the night to do it, please please please, send me a message. I’ll talk to you. Be strong
My first camera owned is the middle – Canon EOS 440D. the Canon EOS 60D on the left was a gift from my brother. That camera then plunged me into photography. Afterwards, I received a Nikon EM film camera from my uncle. The film camera then inspired me to delve into film photography.
Many people wonder “what the hell is that girl doing, buying camera after camera?!” For others who don’t suffer from themselves, doing things are very easy. For me, learning to care to do something is never an easy feat. Film photography allows me to see the world through a different perspective. When I’m behind the camera, I feel like i can take control. I can be strong. I have complete control over what I want the picture to come out as – unlike my life in which many aspects i have no control over. Most days I still have no control over the pain I feel within.
I bake and paint and read, but none of these give me the satisfaction and peace that photography allows. It wasn’t until a friend mentioned did I actually realise that all these activities I do are solitary activities. I recently have my eyes set on a 75y-o Zeiss Ikon camera. My mother could do nothing but chide me about me always buying film cameras.
For me, film cameras have different personalities. Depending on my own mood, each camera can show different emotions. Not many can appreciate the subtleties of analogue photography. My “bestfriend” from highschool even shunned me because she thought I was “taking over” film photography and making it “my thing” instead of hers. I decided I was higher than that and just ignored her – who was she to judge me in what I do?
Photography isn’t just trying to find a brilliant picture, it’s a way to put things into perspective. When things are in the lens, it’s all so much easier to understand.
- Explore your surroundings
These two lovely film cameras were both bought off eBay. The one of the right is now currently my favourite Canon AE-1 Program. And the one on the left is the Canonet 28series. Though the Canonet has a very limited range of functions, I find that it forces me to be more creative in my pictures, seeing things from different angles with light sources from unprecedented sides.
- Note the lighting
- Set the camera
- Look through the view finder
- Focus properly
- Take a breath
- Press on the shutter gently
I often go on small little walks around my complex just to give myself something new to look at other than my boring room. That’s why I love photography, because it isn’t just art, it’s an outlook. It’s my safe haven. It’s my distraction from my destructive self.
What’s your safe haven?
This was taken aboard a Singapore Airlines flight. Does being up in the sky make you want to jump down to momentarily feel free and to end all the pain when you reach the ground?
I was traveling yesterday and my mood was pretty alright. Until I rested my head on the back of my hand and noticed something odd. A small white line on the outside of my elbow. I traced it slowly, letting the thought sink in. Have you ever seen a scar in which you had forgotten you had?
I had promised my counselor that I’d try and stop cutting. To my ultimate surprise, I went clean for at least two weeks. During lunch time, I would be in a teacher’s class because they wanted to “monitor” me after the school staff found out that I had been cutting in school. When the teacher left for the bathroom, I had the strangest most strong urge to feel pain. A panic attack edged on my mind as I started scrambling through the room for a blade of sorts – why would an english teacher have blades?! And then it caught my eye. Without so much as a second thought, I grabbed my ruler and snatched up the pencil sharpener…. I loosened the screw and took out the tiny blade – no one would notice it right? Gingerly and with much precaution, I pressed in the blade deeper than I’d ever pushed before. Before I knew it, there was a 3″ laceration on my elbow.
It was only then that I realised what the hell I did. I stepped right into the pushing edge of my panic attack and started hyperventilating. Panic surged through my body as it fell to the floor with tears streaming down my cheeks – what the hell have i done? I believe i blacked out right afterwards because next thing I know, I was in the nurses’s office…
I’m pretty sure many of you who have depression or some other sort of disorders put up a brave front;; a smiling face;; a joking demeanor;; a cheerful smile.
How do you react towards others who joke around about disorders like they’re nothing? Well, they are something. And they’re nothing funny.
Just because a girl didn’t eat her lunch means she’s anorexic. She may be feeling ill and nauseous, therefore having no appetite in food. Just because a boy sits alone in class and lunch time doesn’t mean that he’s depressed. Who knows if he’s merely shy or going through a rough patch? Just because someone eats all the time doesn’t mean he’s bulimic, what if his blood sugar tends to drop very quickly? Just because a girl has bruises doesn’t mean she’s self harming herself. What if she has a rough little toddler sibling or really is clumsy?
I took this picture with my Canon AE-1 camera, in a flower expo in Singapore’s Garden by the Bay. The sunlight streaming through the right side of the photograph illuminating the lavander was what made this picture so captivating for me. The innocence, the peace.
Even if they are not having disorders, doesn’t mean you get to laugh and mock them. You have the power to destroy someone’s life just by making a small comment or a small joke. Having an eating disorder is NOT funny. Having depression is NOT hilarious. Having general anxiety disorder is NOT to be laughed at. Having obsessive compulsive disorder is NOT to be taken lightly at all. Having crying spells is NOT to be joked about.
But be warned: there will always be ignorant people around who will mock and shun those who are suffering. Why? Either because they have suffered and had been mocked on, or merely because they are idiots who deserved to be kicked in the nuts. But you, you are different. Rise above anger, rise above resentment. Show them that you mean business when you don’t joke about disorders.
Because they hurt, they kill, and everytime someone makes a joke about it, it takes a part of you away. Little bits of you. If you keep accepting these treatments, you’ll find that soon you’ve got nothing but minute, microscopic pieces of you. Rise, my dears, rise.
There are days (and may I say MOST days) when things never go on properly. You know what I’m talking about right?
Things weren’t going to plan… I ate so much and felt so guilty that I went into the bathroom and tried to force everything up. I had exerted so much pressure on my head that my tears were flowing and my head was throbbing. Nothing I did cheered me up. Everything was going downhill since I first opened my eyes to that blasted sun rays. This was the sunset that i faced last evening. It was beautiful, but all I could feel was dread and fear. The sunset triggered something in me and suddenly my chest heaved uncontrollably as I fell to the floor. Pressure gripped my chest and I thought I was dying, I thought my head and chest was going to explode… A million thoughts raced through my head only to be incomprehensible. What the hell? The world spun around before faces popped up in front of me – security guards and my mother. Nothing else registered and soon it was a black out.
How can you feel safe if something this beautiful could make you feel like jumping into an abyss?
It’s painful, physically and mentally knowing that anything could be a trigger or anything could happen at any time, anywhere. I’m scared.
Having a paper bag is extremely handy when it comes to facing panic attacks. Many people underestimate what a panic attack is, and thought that I just had it because I wanted attention. bull. shit. Having a panic attack might as well mean that one believes that she is really on the brink of death. It drains you completely out of energy and keeps you on your toes, because after ten bloody minutes of it, you feel like anything can trigger another panic wave. Tidal waves upon waves of anguish and panic and fear rushing through your body.
I dare you to make fun of it.