When I started this blog almost 8 years ago, I wanted to share my journey living abroad and experiencing new things that I never had before. I got bit by the travel bug quite late in life. I became quite introverted quite early on in my childhood. I experienced many difficulties that just made me withdraw from people and trusting in general. This social apprehension was carried with me into adulthood. Despite it I coped reasonably well. Went to university got a degree, got a job, lived by myself. Made a few friends. I’ve always been fairly independent. However, making connections, friendships is difficult. I over analyse, I fret, I empathise too much to the point where I don’t know where my feelings end and other people’s feelings begin. I spent most of my 20s struggling with depression and I did it mostly alone. Asking for help, or even acknowledging I need help when I do, is still a challenge and I am working on it. Still, I had this deep curiosity to see the world and I knew there was more out there.
I wasn’t until I was 29 that I moved to Singapore. It was the furthest I had ever been! I was so excited. A great new adventure. A good friend asked me at the time if I was not just running away from the things that I thought were making me miserable. I remember feeling defensive but she has a knack of hitting the nail on the head. I probably was but it was still the best decision I made even if the reasons weren’t the greatest.
I’ve learnt so much being out here. I have grown as a person, become more confident and patient with myself. I listen more, I appreciate people more. I remember the moment that my depression lifted and I felt alive. I was on the MRT (train). I almost cried right there and then but people could see me. It took me 2 years to get to that point, after therapy and a lot of uncomfortable introspection.
As my depression lifted, my anxiety that has always plagued me became more evident. Once I recognised the triggers the signs and changed parts of my life style, it became easier to manage. Singapore helps with that because it’s convenient and safe to live in. There’s plenty of sunshine and if you like things being orderly and in control like I do then it’s the perfect place to ease the anxious mind. I started running, I made conscious efforts to eat better, I enjoyed my work. For a brief moment there my life was everything I wanted it to be.
Things have to change though. My job is a very transitional one. People tend not to come into tuition to make a career out of it. You stay for two years, you move on. I have been at this job now over 6 years. I’ve made so many friends and watched them leave. For someone who struggles so much with socialization and making connections this has been the hardest aspect of living in Singapore. I struggle fitting in with most social groups and oh how I wish I was the kind of person who can talk to anyone, fit in anywhere and be a confident ray of light in a group! I think I have only found this sort of belonging in my online fandom circles. My startrek gaming community (I even met some of the guys in person) my transformers fandom writing discord and Twitter communities. In my real life, not so much.
Becoming invested is hard, especially when you have failed at holding onto connections and friendships that you thought would last. Even when you have forced yourself out of your comfort zone to consciously make that effort. I am aware of my introverted nature and I do not and have never expected anybody to cater to me so I try hard to reach out, as much as I am able mentally, either online or in person and I honestly feel like I have grown a lot in this aspect of cultivating relationships. I’ve met some wonderful people I now call friends and who will remain friends no matter where we are in the world. This change in myself was monumental to overcome and I fight against myself and my self doubt and my insecurities every single day. In Singapore it has been easier to do. It does help when your best friend lives here.
Now though, another change is upon me. In 79 days, I leave Singapore, probably for the foreseeable near future. I return to my earlier home to start moving my life forward. Thinking about it is enough to make me choke up and stop writing.
I left the UK mentally ill, unhappy and lonely, but so excited. I have made so much progress that I am so proud of. I no longer consider myself depressed, although those of you that know it, know that it’s always lurking and with bipolarism it can crop up at any time. I have anxiety sure but I manage it, I recognise it, I make efforts to mitigate it until it passes or eases. I return to the UK more confident, happier, with direction and a wealth of experience behind me. I’m still alone but not quite as lonely. Yet, despite all my achievements and amazing memories and holidays and friends, I am scared.
I return to a place where I have very few positive memories or experiences and most of those were with friends. Almost 8 years is a very long time to be away and everything I left behind has changed as I knew it would. As it should have done. People move on, have lives and now with my leaving date looming closer, all I keep asking myself is; where do I belong now?
The uncertainty scares me more than I can describe. Yes, it’s an adventure, it’s new and I should be excited and I was for a bit, I still am some days. That doubt, that lack of job to go to, lack of certain prospects when you are 3 years from turning 40, however, is overwhelming. What if I can’t do what I want straight away? Or at all? What if I don’t have the friendship groups I used to? What if I’ve been kidding myself about my growing confidence to make friends? What if the depression takes over again? Becoming lonely, withdrawn and isolated once more due to depression tightening its grip scares me more than anything else.
In society, we put a lot of stock in age and milestones, we shouldn’t but we do, we all do. I have done nothing that society expected of me. I haven’t found love, never even been close to marriage, never had children, I barely have a career. I have a masters and that’s it. I own nothing. It’s as though I am starting all over again, all over again.
I suppose it would be easier if leaving Singapore was something I wanted. It isn’t.
However, I can no longer justify putting my life on hold because my friend lives here and I’m scared I’m not strong enough for the next big adventure. Do we ever get too old for this shit? I realise now that pausing my life is what I’ve been doing.
It’s my dad’s birthday today. It’s been 18 years since he died. A lot of my issues circle around never being able to get his approval. So I push to do more and keep going, I have this insatiable drive, I am rarely satisfied and constantly yearn for approval I will never receive. I even look for it in other people which is not healthy. As a result, I want things to stay exactly as they are, where I feel like I have grown into the best person I can be, even if I’m still not the ray of sunshine I wish I was.
I can’t be a disappointment then can I?
I know in my heart though it is time to move forward. Progress is something I do want. Yay for that big adventure…
I don’t think I have ever been so scared of anything in my life.
Adventures of a Wocket 