The last week and a half has been somewhat hellish. Not only have I been unwell physiologically (first it was the mumps, then a stiff neck and my role as care-giver), I haven’t felt worse emotionally or psychologically in months. In fact, I think I have hit new lows.

It all started with my return from Singapore. My extended weekend down south (two weeks ago) was a welcome reprieve. Singapore has become somewhat of an escape hatch for me. It’s close enough to KL for a weekend trip. But it is far enough to get away from “real life”. Thanks to the generous hospitality of a friend, I’ve been living a different kind of existence on the island state, one where while not all is perfect, everything is nevertheless more funny and bearable than this predicament called “life” in KL. My trips to Singapore have been my mini-(no-)Sex and the City.

Life slows down for me in Singapore. It’s where I catch my breath and heave temporal sighs of relief. It’s where I learn to appreciate the little, and yet important, things in life again: late breakfasts in cafes, laughing with a friend, going through the day at leisure, hearing my own thoughts… . More importantly, Singapore is where I have been reminded that there is a better form of existence out there - if I could only get my act together.

I read this post today for the first time since I published it. While I thought it would be rather “heavy” when I first posted it, in hindsight, it’s not as “scary” as some suggested it to be. In fact, compared to my present state of mind, I’d say that I was very lucid then. And doing very much better. Now? Today? I don’t think I know…

Maybe it’s not even advisable to be an optimist after the age of 30?
Maybe pessimism is something we have to start applying daily like moisturiser
Otherwise how do you bounce back when reality batters your belief system
and love does not, as promised, conquer all?
Is hope a drug we need to go off of? Or is it keeping us alive?
What’s the harm in believing?
- Sex and the City, Season 5, Episode 2

I recently watched the lasts of Season 5 of Sex and the City. I’m finally up to speed with Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, Samantha and their fucked-up, fuck-full but always funny and witty lives. It’s so easy to become completely engrossed but also easy to tragically identify with them. Which is why I don’t think I can’t bear to watch them anymore because life is depressing enough without it being reflected back clearly and vividly on television.

Watching Carrie and friends, I am reminded that sometimes all you really need are good friends who do nothing but understand and listen. That again was my Singapore experience. I know full well what my problem is. And I know what I need to do without someone else telling me so. Sometimes all you really need is not just a sympathetic but also an empathetic ear. And a hug when the tears wouldn’t stop at the brim of your eyelids anymore.

Later that night I got to thinking about days gone by, that carefree time when our schedules were as wide open as our hearts. The time before the bagage and breakups and babies began to weigh us all down. I couldn’t help but wonder, does that sense of adventure still flicker inside of us?
- Sex and the City, Season 5, Episode 1

I’ve rediscovered the value of having down-times with myself. Not with friends, or lovers, or family, or colleagues. But with me. Alone.

I’ve also discovered that sometimes when we keep quiet and don’t say anything, it’s not beause all is going well. Sometimes, it’s because it’s all going so badly that we just can’t verbalise anymore.

Hope is the biggest lie there is, and it is the best.
You have to keep going as if it all mattered,
or else we wouldn’t keep going at all.
- voiceover from Episode 10 of Steven Spielberg’s Taken

Posted on October 31st, 2003 by jl
Filed under: Life with a Heavy Heart