At 8, my parents got divorced and fought over my brother and my custody. My father wanted the custody because that was the only way for him to keep the house we lived in. My mom almost went to jail because of him. He bribed my brother to tell him details about our meeting with our lawyer. He lied so many times. My mom won our custody in the end but I never won the war.

I grew up believing that my father never loved me. As I became older, I came to terms with it and I learned to forgive him. I told myself it was done in a moment of folly. But that doesn't change the fact that at a point in time, he loved his house more than he loved us.

At 12, something happened in my mom's family that caused me to have to go live with my dad. My mom never believed me regarding that incident and to this date, I don't think she does. The person who caused this misery left our lives but this incident never left me.

My mom trusted an outsider over her child. As I became older, I came to terms with it and I learned to forgive her. I told myself it was done in a moment of folly. But that doesn't change the fact that she didn't believe me when I needed it and blamed me for the incident for a while.

Now that I'm learning about the media and stuff like that, I know how damaging it is for children those ages to witness scenes like these. Much less be a part of it. During those tender ages, I was highly impressionable. Although I never admitted it, the truth is that those incidents shaped me. I became really insecure.

If a parent who's supposed to love their child wholeheartedly hurt them, how can anyone love me? As a result, I always try to find other people's hidden agenda and it made me really unhappy. Till this date, I can't bring myself to believe that someone can truly love me.

At 14, someone told me "You may have depression. It's not normal o be this sad, all the time." I dealt with the aftermath of my parents' divorce seven years late. I tried to be strong for my brother for the longest time during the divorce. I remember holding him when he cried, I remember hugging him tight. But somehow, at this age, I had a meltdown. I couldn't take being strong anymore and I questioned myself and God daily - why can't I have a perfect family as well? Was it something I did wrongly?

I was trying to figure out my life and I was so lost. My secondary school friends would definitely remember this period because I cried so often. At school, at home, in public. Just anywhere over anything. I could be laughing one minute and sobbing incessantly the next. I didn't even have a reason for crying - I just sobbed my heart out.

I remember sitting in a corner at Escape Theme Park bawling my eyes out. There was no reason for the breakdown. I completely turned into another person and I couldn't recognised myself anymore. I knew that I have lost myself and it was a scary time for both me and the people around me.

I starved myself so that I can look better because I always believed that I was fat. I thought that if I became skinnier and prettier, people would love me more. I was never satisfied with myself and if you've been reading my blog, I guess you could tell too.

I questioned my existence daily and I let the mean anonymous remarks get to me sometimes. I remember someone leaving me an anonymous comment that went "why don't you go kill yourself?" And it got to me. I didn't see a purpose in living anymore and I hated myself so much. 

I tried to kill myself on several occasions. Fortunately for me, my friends were there and they saved me. It got so bad that on some nights, I had to stayover at my friends' houses so that they can make sure I'm safe. Till today, the only times when I feel completely safe are those nights when I have company. I don't wish to go into details because those are just fucking bad memories but slowly, I picked myself up and got better.

However throughout these years, I never stopped hating myself, never stopped hurting myself. I hurt myself and made sure I left no marks behind because I didn't want anyone to worry. It didn't help that the friends I had during this period of recovery weren't very encouraging and made me doubt myself more.

At 18, my cousin committed suicide. I only met him once in my whole life but I really got affected because I knew if my friends weren't there on those nights, that could have been me. I saw how my aunt cried over her child, I saw how much he meant to the people around him and that's when the thoughts I have of killing myself slowly left. I didn't want the people I love to suffer.

But tonight, I had another outburst. Just a few hours ago, I gathered my belongings and tried to leave the house. I didn't have a plan and I didn't know where was I heading to. I just knew I needed to get out. I said tried because my family held me back. Then, for the first time, I admitted my suicidal thoughts. I finally told them of the dark places I've been residing in.

But they didn't understand. My brother didn't say anything. In fact, he hardly does and I worry about him sometimes. My mom, on the other hand, lashed out at me. She said I only was using this chance to get pity because I saw that she was nagging. She told to snap out of it and get over it. It wasn't the reaction I was expecting.

She said I know nothing because I haven't experienced life. I know I may have not fully experienced life but I have gone through a lot more than my peers of the same age and she can't deny that.

She asked me, "If you are stressed, what about your cousin?" My cousin has a GPA of near 4.0 in a prestigious course in Singapore, and he's really smart and hardworking. I admire him a whole lot but I hate the fact that they think business courses are the hardest. Us as media students have it tough too. But that isn't the main point - she didn't understand that this outburst wasn't just because of an exam or stress.

She made countless unkind comments even after my brother tried to stop her and much as I love and respect her, she's wrong. I knew I had a problem. I always knew. It isn't normal to hate yourself so much, to have such negative thoughts so much. It isn't normal to have anxiety attacks so bad your heart races and you start crying over nothing. It isn't normal to restrict yourself from eating. It isn't normal to hurt yourself.

I chanced upon this comic a while ago titled, "if we treat mental illness like physical illness" and it spoke a lot to me.

I really hope that by penning my thoughts, I can get through it eventually. They say HOPE stands for Hold On, Pain Ends. So hopefully, I'll get the help I need and I'll recover real soon.

There's so much more that I want to say but I'll end it here for now. Thank you for being on this journey with me and I will be writing a lot more in time to come. :)

She looked at me. Then my exercise book. Then back at me. I searched her face for any hint of approval and there it was - her crimsoned lips had a slight curve upwards.

"I enjoyed reading every word," she said. "You are a good writer."

I broke into a wide grin. This was exactly what I needed. Writing was the only thing I ever knew of. Writing was the only thing I could do correctly. And to hear these words of approval from someone I admire so much meant a lot to me.

But this was not the end of it.

"This is both a blessing and a curse," she continued.

"A curse?" I asked, puzzled by her choice of words.

She explained to me how writers are usually the saddest people with the gloomiest thoughts because that's the only time their words could come alive.

"You don't buy a place in a reader's heart with happy endings," she reminded me. "You feel what your characters feel. If they are sad, you have to be depressed to express those words."

Actors are dramatic, deejays are expressive, singers have to be creative. And writers? Writers are lonely creatures. They wallow in sadness, they live in their own world that they made up. But they enjoy this solitude for it allows them to think.

Writers are wallflowers. Therefore, they easily learn of the feelings you try to deny, the things you hide. They call from these life experiences that runs deep in their memories to write a relatable story.

Of course, life isn't always happy - in fact you see people complain more than appreciate. This is why happy endings isn't as well-received; the only happy ending we know in life is when we die. Then again, how can we be sure that it is a happy ending?

Deep down, I knew she was right. After all, she had decades of experience. And it was true - all my stories involved some sort of tragedy happening eventually.

I wanted so much to prove her wrong. I returned home and started writing. I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. I wrote till my hands turned numb, till my eyelids felt as heavy as lead. I tried my best to craft a happy story, and I did. But I know it isn't satisfactory, it isn't a work that I am proud of, it isn't something I want the world to read.

Slowly, I started to believe her words. I opened up and let the monsters in, I let the darkness consume me. I finally understood how she was right. I embraced the darkest part of me; the only way for me to do what I love is to remain in this darkness.

"Be careful."

"Thread lightly."

"You will regret."

"I'm worried for you."

"Please don't."

It's not like nobody warned me or that I didn't catch the warning signs. Ha, in fact, the warnings follow you wherever you are; it's almost as if you were born with them. You didn't even have to say anything - the people around you did. I knew about you before I even knew you.

But I chose to ignore. I ignored everything I've heard and it puzzles me so much. I'm so confused. All these posts I wrote about you, in hopes that you will somehow stumble upon this and talk to me. What's the point? Yeah, what's the point, really? We both know a leopard will never change its spots, so why do I bother?

Yet, I spend my nights trying to get you out of my mind. No matter how hard I try, it haunts me to this very day. Tonight as I close my eyes, I still smell you. I've never smelt anything like that before and sometimes I wonder if it's the smell of you or the cologne you use. Nonetheless, the smell completely fills up my nose and that's when waves of nostalgia hit me. Again and again. And again.

No matter how hard I try to forget, I remember. And I hate myself for that.

Bring me back. Or maybe not.
But bring me back, will you?

Spent my entire day drafting out blog posts then deleting them because I have too many things on my mind that should be private. Sometimes I hate how I cannot freely speak my mind on my blog because it is a public platform but other times I love being able to share my thoughts with anyone who's reading my blog.

But, ANYWAY.

I am in such a dilemma right now. Obviously I can't share anything here and I've talked to my friends about it but I really really really wish I could talk to the people involved. That would make things so much easier. But the people involved are the people I cannot talk to because they do not care enough so I am forced to make this decision myself.

And this decision can change my life.

I don't know what to do man. I'm giving myself a month, or at least till the end of my holidays since it's a major decision and I need all the time I have in the world to consider and reconsider.

Sigh this post such a mess and I'm not bringing any point across but I really wish the person I want to speak to the most will see this, know what I'm talking about and text me so that we could talk about it. I hope he stumbles upon this somehow but the chances are damn low ugh.

I don't even think that person reads my blog wtf so I'm not expecting much. But the people around him reads this space so............ Hopefully someone will let him know? But this post is so general that it can be just about ANYONE in the world, right? Ugh wtf I have no idea how is writing this post going to help if I'm not specific. But I can't be.

This is such a mess, just like my mind and my life.

The young me ten years ago would be so ashamed by how my life turned out.

I really hope I make the right decision.

Final presentation of the semester down last Friday. This semester is supposedly the toughest one if my three years in Mass Communication and somehow, I managed to get through it. I am now left with one submissions and two exams. I should be feeling relieved and happy right?

No.

My life's in a fucking mess and I don't know how to pick things up. I don't know how to get out of this cycle, I don't know how do I say no, I don't know when can I ever get over this. I say I'm so done but I walk right back every time. I want to let things go but it's so hard. It's breaking me everyday.

To act like nothing ever happened, to act like I'm contented with my life, to put up a strong front, to find excuses for your actions, to try my best despite the odds being stacked against me.

My heart beats fast when I think about it. Truth is, I have way too many decisions waiting to be made and I can't make them. How do I know what's the right decision? How do I know what's best for me? I'm so tired of trial and error, tired of not knowing. I just want a definite answer, just for once.

My mind's a mess.
I'm a mess.

Someone please talk to me.
Please.

I hate the thought of it, I hate the word, I hate what it means.

You think suicide will solve your problems? You are just being SO SO SO selfish.

What happens when you die? Nobody actually gets over your death. You think that eventually everyone will forget that you ever existed but no. It never really gets better. We just get numbed as time passes by. We just learn to accept the fact that you are gone but that doesn't mean that we stop being sad.

Nobody ever stops missing you. We get hurt every time we think of you. We try our best to keep you in our memory forever, we hold on to whatever we have left of you. But overtime, memory fades. We start forgetting how you felt like, the smell of you on your things start fading, we eventually stop remembering how you sounded like.

We forget old memories as new ones are being created everyday. It makes us guilty. We shouldn't forget anything about you. This isn't right. But it slips our mind no matter how hard we try, because we are only human and we don't have super memory.

Is this what you want the people you love to go through? Think of your parents - think of them blaming themselves for the rest of their lives. Think of your friends - think of them wondering why have they not noticed the signs earlier? Think of the things you love, think of all the people in the world who loves you.

You have a problem? You admit it and then solve it. You have suicidal thoughts? You seek help. You need a listening ear? Talk to people who care - there are so many of them out there. Even me.

I may be the biggest bitch sometimes but I fucking care.

To you who's reading this, I may or may not know you personally but I care about you. I don't want to see another life go to waste because I know you have way too much ahead of you to just let it all go like that. No matter how helpless you are now, know that nothing lasts forever. I will talk to you if you need me to.

You have so much ahead of you. You shouldn't be feeling this way. I have been there before and I made it out. I know how it feels like to face the world without a gleam of hope. I know how it feels like going to sleep hoping that tomorrow will be better but better seems to never come. I know how it feels like to hate yourself. I know how it feels like to wake up every morning thinking that you are a burden to everyone. I know what it feels like to feel lost, empty, helpless and useless. I know, and I understand.

For two years, I fought the demons inside of me. Even till now, on some nights, I struggle to not let them win.

But if I can do it, you can too. 

Escape is not an answer.
It will never be. 

P.S. I hate it when people over-glorify suicide. You think it's funny telling everyone you want to kill yourself? Admit it, you don't want to kill yourself - you want attention. And you are snatching attention away from those who really need them.

So please, stop being so insensitive. Stop using the word so lightly.

Those who are truly depressed will never scream that they are and it's often too late when people finally realise. 

When Alive Museum first hit the shores of our sunny island, I was so excited!!! I've seen my friends post pictures of their visit to Alive Museum during their trips to Korea and I've always loved looking at their pictures and guessing where are the tricks! Better than that, this time I got to experience the real thing! :O When I first learned that I have the opportunity to visit Alive Museum, I jumped at the opportunity hehe.


Basically, Alive Museum uses special 3D painting techniques to create realistic paintings that tricks the eyes so that visitors can enjoy the art pieces like never before. What makes Alive Museum in Singapore special is that they have nine locally themed masterpieces that are unique in Singapore!

Not only that, Alive Museum works hard at making every visit enchanting and unique so they change about 30% of the paintings every 12-18 months. This means that you can visit the museum every year and you'll get a new experience every time! They also have special exhibits displayed during special occasion like Christmas and Chinese New Year. If this is not dedication, I don't know what is. :O

Now that I'm done with the introduction, let me take you through a magical journey *hahhahaah so cliché* *cringes so hard I faint* 








 





















When I showed the set of photos to my boyfriend, he looked at this photo for really long and asked if the teeth are in 3D! That's how authentic looking the paintings are and I'm so impressed by them O.O




























So after going through the museum, what's my verdict?

IT'S AWESOME!!! It's every bit as amazing and magical as I expected it to be and I enjoyed myself so much. The pictures were relatively easy to take with the guides around and there were a few part-timers around to help us take photos or to guide us if needed.

What I'm showing here is only a fraction of what they have so you really have to head down and experience it yourself!

But do take note that:

1) It's gonna take you quite long to finish exploring the whole museum so don't reach there too late! I reached at around 8:30pm because I had prior school commitments and I was the last customer to leave at 10pm :X We had to rush through most of the exhibits at the back and the nicer exhibits are the ones behind so we didn't get to take a lot of photos with them :-(

2) Unlike some reviews I read online, it wasn't exactly VERY crowded there but we do have a couple of people walking into our pictures every now and then. Other then that, it was relatively empty and we had the freedom of making stupid faces wtf.

Then again, make stupid faces even if it's crowded anyway because everyone's there to have fun and nobody's gonna judge you for doing the same thing as them! After all, we are there to have fun and get great pictures right? ^~^

3) It is advisable to wear shorts instead of skirts because there's gonna be lots of jumping, laying around and climbing!

4) It took me quite long to find Alive Museum because I'm not familiar with the Suntec City area but if you are, it is easily located!

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Alive Museum is conviently located at:

Suntec City Mall
#03-372
(Between Towers 3 and 4)

Tickets cost only $25 for adults and $20 for children aged 3 - 12 years old.
Not only that, like Alive Museum on Facebook and get a free meal at Burger King Suntec with a purchase of a full priced-ticket!

Alternatively, you can skip the queue when you purchase your tickets online here!
Remember to quote 'aliveopen' when you are checking out to receive 20% off ~

The museum operates from 10am to 10pm daily (last admission at 9pm) but as mentioned, you should go earlier to avoid being disappointed by the lack of time as the museum is rather big and one hour is definitely not enough for you to finish exploring the place!

Special thanks to Alive Museum for the tickets! :-)