Once again, I have many transitionary thoughts in my mind. Transitionary because they are half-formed or partially-processed. Being back in Singapore this time made me acutely aware of the change I am going through. I no longer react to things the way I used to, I am also getting a lot more sentimental.
A few weeks ago I told a good friend that I was confused over some decisions I thought I had to make. She said that I would know when the time comes. I thought she was being patronizing, but upon reflection, she was right. Each time I had made a major life decision, there was never any doubt or confusion. Every single time, there was never doubt that I had done my best, reached my capacity, and hence there could not be any reversal, because there was never anything left in me even if I wanted to stubbornly persist.
Having depressive tendencies can be helpful in these situations. Big decisions are easy to make when the choice is between risking a change or having to suffer an indescribable emotion that makes me want to terminate myself. I have been through enough episodes to know when I get close to that cliff. I don’t ever want to go back there again, if I can help it. Losing my capacity to feel anything, even sadness, makes life really seem to be not worth living.
I still need to remind myself all the time though. My fear of losing my independence causes me to be dependent, ironically. It is always a constant battle between wanting security and wanting to be free. I don’t think it is possible to have both. One may come as an effect of the other, but they cannot co-exist as a pursuit.
I think my desire to be free has propelled me to considerable progress, and by progress I mean events that are meaningful to me. Someone telling me that my writing comforts them is way better than having extra money in my bank account. Money can be earned, but sentiment, the kind of sentiment that makes people remember you with their hearts during your own funeral, that is priceless. But even a desire for that sort of sentiment is greedy. I only want to ask for a life that I can be proud to reflect upon on my deathbed.
These are fragmented thoughts, and I want to be better at writing them more regularly. I have found these snapshots of my thoughts valuable when I lose sight of myself. In these words, I am really preserving fragments of my true self for my future self to recover when life loses me in her midst.