Like the gentle quiet of a winter evening, watching the bare branches of a tree in the street light.
The way the sun gently dances and caresses your skin when it breaks through a cloud.
The gorgeous ways the light breaks into a million colours at sunset, set off into even more variations when the clouds are dappled.
The alluring smell of coffee when you have the luxury of curling up next to a crackling fire with a good puzzle or a book.
Can you tell it’s winter?
Emotional and self awareness are interesting concepts. Sometimes the way they’re talked about makes it feel like the time prior to these moments were spent asleep, and I guess in a way one is. Living and experiencing life without truly understanding the reason why things make one react that way, or why one feels the way they feel.
Anxiety was something I came to learn was a constant companion in my 20s, and that felt like a game-changer but little did I know the amount of self discovery yet to make. And I guess in some ways, I don’t know now what I don’t know – I wonder what new self discoveries I’ll make into my 40s, 50s, 60s and beyond.
But one of the more monumental realisations is that I’m neurodivergent. And before I dive deeper into it, I want to address that if I am, I am high-functioning and have no real intention of getting formally diagnosed. Not because I’m scared but largely because I don’t see there being much value for myself. I have lived to my mid-thirties having built enough coping strategies and mechanisms for these attributes I always just thought were “quirks”, nothing has caused me enough gripe to be needing formal diagnosis in order to access things like prescription medicines. So, this could all be ramblings of a madwoman and may as well taken as one – but then, who’s reading this anyway?#
Where was I? Oh yes, neurodivergence. If I had guess, I would guess I’m AuDHD, or I even saw that there is a third type called giftedness somewhere (although if that is what I am, I really wish they would change the labelling because that just sounds downright arrogant). But basically, it’s a reeeeeaaaaally fun melting pot of overlap between the three, so I could be all three and also none at all. Why not have my mood of the day choose what I am hey?
I can’t remember when I started noticing my “quirks” perhaps weren’t just quirks. I guess some time in my 20s, I would nonchalantly quip that I was on the spectrum, but I can’t tell you how much I truly believed what I said at the time. I knew I had always thought differently to people around me, but as the only Hong Kong Chinese kid and one of a handful of kids who were not white in my entire school year, I had just figured it might’ve been a cultural thing. In some ways, I think that was a blessing. I felt different and isolated and alone in lots of ways growing up where I did, but it never occurred to me it was because of how I thought, just what I was haha. And I got to reconcile with different cultural identity in my late teens/ early twenties to the point where I’m proud to be from a different cultural heritage and background, so in some ways I see it as a win-win?
Over time, it became clearer that I had traits that were associated with ADHD as well as autism although I think to a lesser extent. It is also interesting that certain traits and quirks, I swear, started appearing in my 20s. But my mind being my mind, has always just taken the role of an observer, seeing a trend in triggers and reactions so would take introduce protocols or strategies to counter these.
I remember the first time, some time in my mid 20s, when I experienced a mild panic attack on the tube. I was living in London at the time and it was the middle of winter. The tubes are generally quite warm, and some lines (like the central line) I’d always say just felt a few metres closer to hell. That particular day, I had gotten on the tube and had been layered up, as one would in winter. The dance of putting clothes on having taken them off just felt cumbersome so I had decided to not, but some time halfway through the journey (I think I was at Canning Town, on the way to Stratford), I could feel myself struggling to cool down. The walking around to catch the tube plus the warm carriage prevented that and I could feel panic creep up and up and up until I experienced my first ever mild panic attack. It was really strange, literally nothing had happened apart from me getting too warm. It always struck me as really odd after that, how so many other people could wear puffer jackets on the tube. Turns out struggling to thermal regulate is actually a trait within autism. Whodathunk?
Another quirk of mine is that strong smells give me headaches. I have never been able to enjoy walking within 20 metres of a Lush store, or ever wear perfume. It’s like my olfactory senses get slapped by the cloying smells and not in a fun way. Now, knowing what I know about sensory overwhelm, perhaps that was always a sign of neurodivergence. I just had put it down to a sensitive sense of smell.
One more “quirk” I’ll share is around my issues with emotional permanence. Object permanence is the concept of being able to keep the idea something exists when it’s not directly in your immediate vicinity or recent interactions. A lot of people with ADHD suffer issues with object permanence. Turns out there is also an emotion equivalent where people from both ADHD or autistic backgrounds struggle to hold onto feelings or a sense of connection with another person when they are not physically present. It is something I have experienced since I started dating in my early twenties and experienced a partner going away for a trip. It didn’t need to be a long trip, even a week or two week trip would trigger this in me. I always put it down to my anxious attachment style, which in hindsight, might actually be a reaction because the sudden absence of the strong emotions I had felt is a bit jarring. But as I was researching into the concept this morning, it all finally clicked and it felt amazing to read in words, not written by me, the feeling of what I had felt but never quite understood why. Turns out I am mad! But at least we know what the madness is.
None of this necessarily changes anything, I still won’t go get diagnosed, and whilst having the vocabulary to be able to discuss and explain to people why I react or feel a particular is useful, I had already had awareness and had active coping mechanisms in place for years before I discovered the vocabulary. I will try and adopt some of the new copy strategies I’ve read to see if it can help me even more, but to a certain extent, I feel like I have this under control.
I would say, it was something that was really bothering you and it does not feel in control or is negatively affecting you (the main requirement we were taught on my BSc Pharmacology course was the defining factor of a psychological disorder), then do seek help and diagnosis. Sometimes we all need a little help in order to be able to identify and put things in place to help. We don’t have to do it alone.
But ultimately, know that those quirks make up who you are. They won’t go away any time soon, or ever. For me, I very much like who I am, quirks and all so that’s fine by me.
The Ending
I miss you. Thank you for being someone who gave me space to love with abandon. To love so fiercely and with so much of my heart. That’s why it still hurts so much that you chose to walk away. All that love pouring out of me with no where to go. That’s what they say grief is, right?
Whilst I understand your decision, it seems crazy to me how fine you seem. I know that you have tendencies to repress emotions but it still cut deep to see how well you took to the absence of me.
And maybe you’re not. I think emotions affect you more than you care to be honest with yourself.
I think the main reason that drove you to make the decision of breaking up was that I had made you feel unsafe in the relationship – for the first time. I don’t think you knew how to handle it and so you did the one thing you could control, which was to eradicate the thing that had made you feel unsafe.
But none of that matters, they are only narratives I am building in my head to help make sense of the grief that I still feel. Because only a crazy person, in my mind, would throw away a relationship as good as we had it.
The silence between us is growing quieter. The hurt grows slightly more calm day by day but never fully away. At least not yet. Maybe one day.
The Grief
I don’t remember the last time I cried this much for this long. Every time I think I can no longer cry anymore, I somehow do. With every tear that’s shed, the weight sinks down in my heart into my stomach, wrenching it until it’s twist beyond recognition. At some point these tears will become a river which will become a whirlpool that threatens to swallow me whole. I can feel it tug at my skin, drawing me downwards into it’s comforting abyss. There is no light there, everything lost into the void.
But I cannot, will not go.
These tears can become scars on my heart, to go alongside the ones from tears before. They will become my battle scars of the wars that I’ve fought with grief. The wars that I’ve won, my presence and joys to show for it.
I will wear warpaint mixed up from tears and the dust that’s settled from previous fights. My sobs will become my war-cry. Embracing the pain will become my strength.
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I chose this path in order to feel. I did not want to be numb anymore, but I forgot what it meant to feel like an exposed nerve.
All of the kisses, all of the laughs, the gentle moments, the less gentle moments. Is this heartbreak worth it for all of that? It is, but I just wish that there had been time for more. Even though we squeezed as much as we could out of the moments we had, all I want to do is to slide back into that blissful cocoon that was our world. Where love, understanding and rejoicing in each other was the language that we shared.
I want more time with that beautiful smile that lights up your face and makes my heart skip a beat. I want more time feeling the gentle way you kiss me. I want more time being silly and goofy with you. And even more time skin on skin.
Even though I knew there was the high possibility that this relationship would end because you wanted to pursue monogamy, I just hoped you would know how rare it is to be able to find a dynamic like ours. The fifteen months we were dating flew by and when I look through the photos and messages we shared, we did so much, in so many different areas. And we got on like a house on fire in everything we did, maybe that’s why it all burned down. In the end, if none of that meant enough for you to try and protect it, then I was a fool for hoping you would.
You had found someone who was good to you, who tried to give you as much as possible, that you could openly confide in with your thoughts and feelings. Who asked very little other than to be able to spend time with you. And you threw it all away. I hope it’ll all be worth it. Because I don’t know if I’ll be here if you came back looking for me.
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I hate your stupid face. The sad look in your eyes when we last spoke. Your soft tone when you told me you no longer wanted to be with me despite still being in love with me. I hate the way you listened to me but refused to actually hear what I was saying. I hate the stupid way you decide one thing and won’t change your mind. Even if it’s stupid. And it makes no sense.
I hate the stupid way you go seeking space and not realising why and that it’s probably not what you want. I hate how stupid you are, never realising that I could’ve been everything for you. I hate how I’m resorting to calling you stupid just so I can be angry at you, because I’ve been struggling to feel that way.
This is all so stupid and I hate it.
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I really hope it all falls to shit. We get told we shouldn’t be spiteful but why not. When the person who hurt you is clearly blinded by their own ill-advised conviction. I hope it all falls to pieces and then you realise what a mistake it all was. To finally see our relationship in the same light that I saw it – one in a million. And I hope that it will dawn on you how stupid it was that you just let it go. I hope you can admit that it was an error of judgement. And I hope that it will soothe my age old wound, that will no longer have a hold on me.
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I realise all the dates I’m going on. The people I’m meeting. They’re helping as a distraction from the pain I feel. But in reality, all I’m doing, is trying to find you. And that hurts to realise.
I wish I could kill this side of me that holds these feelings for you. So that I no longer feel like this. So I can move on. So I can be friends with you.
The Love
291 days of knowing you and everyday that I do, I’m so grateful for having got to meet you at all.
I’m not one to believe in fate or destiny but it still blows my mind the chain of happy coincidences that led to us meeting. Even before that when we were just texting, there was always something about you that I felt drawn to, a magnetic pull almost.
291 days later since that day I bumped into you at the Chinese supermarket, I still remember the moment I spotted you, did a double take and locked eyes with you. I knew in that instant that I wanted to know you, felt a connection with you, even though we were complete strangers.
I have a habit of being overly optimistic and falling head over heels for people for them to let me down. No matter how much hope I place on you, who you are and our relationship, you exceed them always. Thank you for giving me your efforts and time in a way that makes me feel loved and seen.
It blows my mind that someone as amazing as you loves me the way that you do. I still find it hard to wrap my head around it all some times. You’re fiercely smart, gentle (and also not, at the right times), kind, fun, inspirational. I can’t help but feel drawn to you at all times, even when you’re being a dick at mario karts.
The trips and times we’ve spent together have been some of the best memories of my year. Thank you for uplifting my life. I love how we can enjoy so many different avenues of life together all with a joke and a laugh.
291 days of loving you, and I hope we have many more together.
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So delicate and delicious in equal measure.
The way your eyes lit up when I handed you the tiny crane I’d folded out of the gold chocolate wrapper. The hint of a smile dancing on your lips as you declared “No, it doesn’t look like a swan, it looks like a dragon”.
How preciously you held it in your hand as we left the restaurant and walked back to yours.
In that moment, you may as well have been holding my heart.
The “I Miss You”s
Is it ever simple to say I miss you?
One little phrase to encompass the yearning I feel for you. For your smile, your smell, your touch, your lips. In still moments, my imagination tried to conjure you. It can try but it could never do you justice.
The flashes of the past brings me a whisper of the joy felt in that moment but only tickles the aching hunger that I feel in every cell. I miss you (so much).
Such a loaded phrase taking the form of three short words. What I really mean to say is:
“I wish you were here”
“I wish we didn’t have to part”
“I can’t wait to see each other again”
All those desires baked into just three words.
How could it possibly convey the gratitude I have for having you in my life. You took a part of me with you when you left but in exchange I got to rejoice in who you are, your ghost to keep me company until we meet again.
And so, I’ll carry you with me, in the day to day, in the sunshine, in the cold, dark nights.
All I can hope is sometimes you think of me too.
And here I end with the little words, I miss you.
The Effect
I feel like a car jumpstarted. Having been sitting in a junkyard resigned to my fate. Out of nowhere, your energy hits me. It’s electrifying and all-consuming.
The person who I thought was lost and lay gone, you’ve shone a light on her – she’s well and alive. Her reckless whirlwind of energy no less than it was before; perhaps she had always been here, just dormant. You’ve released the raw force of her nature and I feel unbound, untethered. Am I scared or excited at the notion of being swept away? Whichever it is, the emotion is overwhelming, it engulfs me until I no longer know what’s me and what’s her. The wisdoms I’ve learned since I last knew her, will they allow me to harness the power or will she wreck me – another mess in her shipyard.
The Start
Exploring this new uncharted territory of dating whilst being engaged, I thought I was just supplementing my primary relationship. I wanted to meet interesting people, but I didn’t think I’d meet someone like you. Perhaps a little part of me had always hoped?
You intrigued me from the get go, your vibrant intelligence comes across so strongly. The multi-sides of you that is quiet and pensive as well as boisterous and rogue. You’re the first person who I’ve met that reminds me of me. An explorer, an adventurer, who wants to see it all and do it all. The best thing about you is that you make it happen.
And even though I hate long distance relationships, that is currently what we’re in right now, I still find myself falling so hard for you. Something I never thought would be possible. Perhaps it’s a mix of the circumstances along with some personal growth.
The idea of you meeting someone who you want to pursue a monogamous relationship with, scares me. And it’s made me realise that, although it was not my intention, I’ve been playing for keeps. What a fool I am.
I have something to say.
I do not know yet what, but it sits at the tip of my tongue.
I can feel it at the back of my throat and clouding my mind.
Perhaps I just need time.
Somewhere along the way, I lost my voice.
After that, it felt like someone turned up the white noise
until I can no longer hear my own thoughts
or know what it is I feel.
Struggling, to separate the illusions in my mind from the real.
It was as if I was asleep, living in dreams
I had no control over, yearning to be lucid.
Dreaming the same dream over and over
except, it wasn’t a dream. I was awake, but in reality, asleep.
I wake, disorientated from the slumber.
I need to relearn and rebuild the synapses that have laid to waste from disuse.
Learning to find my voice again
Taking time to find what it is I have to say.
Having been an adult for a number of years, there are certain things that I am confident that I have learnt. Things like that life is a long journey made up of destination checkpoints as determined by oneself. Things like that even though you’re aware of something being an issue like anxiety, it never truly goes away, no matter how much you work on it, it’s an ongoing relationship where some days feel better than others.
But what I do not know, is how things like this restless feeling keeps coming back. I do not know where it stems from, and I do not know how to live alongside it. It’s been sitting inside me like the ever-present rot during a wet and rainy winter, and it concerns me that there’s this feeling it may cause my house to fall apart.
Last night we went down to the river for a wild swim with my boyfriend and his old school friend. His old school friend lived locally and had invited a long a bunch of other parents that he knew through his children’s school. They were all lovely people and you can see knowing each other in their community gave them support, comfort and joy. To me, there was something that made me want to run away from it. There was something distinctly monotonal to me about their identities being British parents. Part of me is horrified at the thought of it if I were to ever have a child, knowing full well that if I had a child, this would probably be the type of community I would seek out. So what is it that makes me feel such an aversion? What am I seeking instead? Because every time I ask that question, all my brain does is come up with nothing. I long for the times in my 20s where I go out adventuring, meeting new people, being free to explore however, I am no longer that person. I have trouble reconciling how it is I “should be” vs what I have known vs what it is I want but do not know. Getting older is not easy. They say that the 20s are the time for you to figure out who you are and that 30s are when you have come to know yourself. Sure I know myself better in some ways but I certainly do not feel like I have it figured out. I feel since I’ve hit my 30s, I’ve had to try and figure it all out again with new doubts like “Am I too old to be wearing this crop top?”. It feels like if I’ve set myself off on one direction, I come to change my mind at a later stage.
Sometimes I’m envious of people like that group of parents. They know what it’s like and are making the most of their lives as parents and seem to be owning it. Perhaps they struggle with exactly how I feel, but then they’re probably distracted by their children screaming about something inane, or creating some sort of mess or chaos.
Is this restless feeling a sense of not belonging, or wanting to run away?
It’s taken me a while, but I slowly feel like I’m reaching a stage again where I feel capable of pushing physical and also mental limits.
I broke my ankle at the very start of the year, and was off my feet for weeks if not months. I barely left the house for the first two months. With such dominating condition, I guess it’s not surprising in hindsight how much that would affect me physically but also mentally. I became very used to being inactive and staying in which is very different to how I usually am. It also made me feel very trapped because I didn’t feel like I could go out, it took a lot of effort for a long while.
If I had to take a stab at explaining it, I would say because I was going through such an amount of physical pain, it left me with a reduced capacity to deal with any other discomforts. So I was drawn to easy and pleasurable experiences that did bring a degree of comfort. However, a life well lived (in my opinion) is one where one must become somewhat comfortable being uncomfortable because that is where the most personal growth occurs. For example, returning to rope climbing, I have been feeling more fear of heights and falling than I did before. That fear has always been there, but in the past I’ve been able to acknowledge the fear and climb past it. With no little amount of patience, I’m finally feeling a little closer to being able to do that again.
Another avenue in my life that provides mild discomfort is my recent uptake of Spanish lessons. Learning the language has always been something I would love to do but never known quite how to make a reality. I finally decided to bite the bullet and commit to a course and so far, it’s very early days, it seems to be going well. But one thing I do recognise is that you do also have to be uncomfortable in being unable to express yourself and still be willing to learn and be corrected. It’s amazing though, if embraced, how much progress you can make in a short time.
Life does gives us all knocks, but I am glad to have been able to navigate back to this point where I am seeing more progression. The other important point, is that the healthy way to look at progression is comparisons between where you were recently (maybe like 6 months or a year ago) rather than all time. Progression is about recognising the uptrend in performance and sometimes that may have fluctuations over “all time”. It’s just something I’ve had to remind myself of in an effort to be kinder to myself.
My life has radically changed since the last time I wrote. I’ve moved cities, bought a house and also changed jobs. Kind of crazy that it all ended up happening at the same time. It was definitely a lot of stress but now I am starting to enjoy the rewards of having made those changes.
The cities thing was always going to happen. London will always hold a special place in my heart and memories, but it was never the place to stay long term. Every location has a rhythm, a pace and London’s is just a bit too fast to sustain long term. It’s wonderful to visit though and I thoroughly intend to do so regularly to see friends and for work.
Moving to Bristol has been a great change so far. It’s just such a more relaxed place without having the sacrifice the fun things that we love about a city. It’s also allowed us to buy a cute little house which is something that would’ve never been an option in London. Well, not never been, but certainly would have to work a lot lot harder in order to be able to afford a house.
That part has been hard to get my head around. Having lived in London for so long, owning property was something that I had labelled in my mind as something that was unattainable (certainly to buy an actual house and by myself). So to actually do so is hard to wrap my head around. The living part is easy, our house is great and we’ve been able to decorate it into a lovely place to live. But it’s the understanding and realisation that I now own a house and have a mortgage, with a lovely man who I’ve been dating for a short two years with. My brain just goes “riiight… As if that’s happened”.
And then to top it all off, I managed to leave a job which I was constantly feeling overwhelmed and stressed and joined a company that I would’ve never thought I would be able to get a job at. I have only recently started so it’s early days but so far it’s been a real 180 in pace and I can see lots of potential in things I can do and achieve here which is exciting. Adjusting to a lower pace has been hard so far. I don’t think I’ve realised how wound up I’ve been by my last job and how that has lasted longer than I think it has. However I think it makes for a healthier long term. No one can feasibly sustain working under constant stress with a huge workload for an indefinite amount of time. And I look forward to acclimatising back to a slower, more varied pace in work.
Overall there’s been a lot of new starts and lots of changes. Reflecting on it now, it’s been a long time coming for that change of pace but at the end, I’m grateful for everything that enabled me to make those changes and choices, luck goes a long way but also allowing myself to take those steps which can be scary. Something to definitely look back and be proud of.
It’s weird how sometimes anxiety can be your worst enemy. Or at least my worst enemy. In relationships I’ve learned that if a relationship doesn’t work out, there will likely be someone else out there that I’ll meet later on. If not, I’m more than happy being on my own. There’s little to no anxiety in that area of worrying about rejection.
In other avenues of my life, that definitely is not the same.
I’m here now until something sticks. Just got to ride along with it like a wave. At the end of the day, anxiety won’t beat me.
It’s six weeks into the new year and it’s been pretty eventful so far (despite a national lockdown). I’ve managed to break my ankle, catch covid, lock myself out of the flat (on crutches) and also had the water supply temporarily cut off without warning. But all in all, I feel pretty good.
I think in some ways, the pandemic and subsequent lockdowns have felt so all encompassing in their isolation and how much they affect you, that more trivial or common mishaps in some ways breaks that doom and gloom feeling. Shit still happens. Life still happens, it’s just a little subdued right now.
Crazy to think we’re fast approaching one full year since I started working from home. Trying to remember how it felt back at that time, it felt like such a bizarre occurrence. There was such disbelief from friends, loved ones and also myself that it would last any longer than 4-6 months tops. And how we’ve all learnt since.
We’ve taken a lot from 2020 in terms of teachings, although definitely more of the tough love vein. My hope for 2021 is that we end this year having been able to implement those learnings and grow positively.
At the end of a year, it’s natural to do some reflecting on the year past. Particularly what with time off work for the holidays, it’s natural to start thinking with more time on your hands. Having just watched Death to 2020, it just really hammered in what a bizarre year it’s been. With the Hong Kong security law, Brexit, the Beirut explosion, a new intensity of wildfires due to climate change, the trash TV show that’s been American politics, ending with a big finale of the election all drawn out to the overture of covid and all its complexities… It’s hard not to have felt fatigued from reading the news this year. Opening a news site became associated with an ominous feeling of dread “what new development awaits us now?”. And that’s all stuff on the global news cycle that I have no control over. In fact the main mental health implication is how those breaking news stories bled over and impacted personal life. Not just mine, but everybody across the globe. It’s hard to imagine another development positive or negative that has simultaneously affected everyone globally.
Personally I’m doing well which I recognise and am very grateful for. My partner and I are both working for companies that have not only survived but had very good years despite covid so our jobs are stable. In fact, my job has been incredibly stressful and busy since August which brought on its own issues. I work in an industry which has historically been vulnerable to budget cuts so my company has been cautious in spend (i.e. hiring people), and being in a world situation where job losses was at an all time high it meant you had to just suck it up and pull in the intense and long hours in order to meet client demands. Which has sucked. My mental and physical health has suffered for it. It’s scary to think that I am still considered one of the lucky ones and I do still think that.
Mental health wise, being in London has been incredibly tricky. It’s so easy to feel stuck, London has always had its own centre of gravity that made it difficult to leave, but now public transport was made to be something to fear, it meant you couldn’t travel 45 mins to get to the other side of the city to do that thing you wanted to like go to a restaurant or a climbing wall. With restrictions changing on a weekly sometimes daily basis like the menu of a bougie hipster cafe or restaurant, just flip flopping between being stuck indoors and being able to go out and see friends, it’s been really hard to adjust and get through it. You’re having to adjust every two seconds with very little consistency. The loss of control and ability to actualise what I want to do is the thing I struggle with the most. It will be interesting to see what the mental health implications of this will be. You don’t have to have had covid to be affected by the pandemic.
With vaccines being approved one by one, and distribution starting, I know the start of 2021 won’t look much different from the end of 2020 – I don’t think we’re under any illusions there. But I do fervently hope along with the whole world that we can reach a point where this becomes manageable. Covid isn’t going away miraculously, no matter what outgoing idiotic world leaders say so. It may mutate out of existence (which is random and small in chance), but likelihood is that it will continue to exist and infect people so if we can get to a point where there are protocols to manage it like smallpox, we might be able to get back to some semblance of life before. Where we were able to go about our lives without having to worry about an invisible enemy.
AChinaSoul 