By Edith C. //
In 2011, I experienced what I would term a “pre-quarter life crisis”. I was 22.
Like many others, I was a teenager struggling with identity and self-esteem issues. Still, I wanted to achieve. Through a multitude of influences, I bought into the narrative that grades defined one’s identity and self-worth.
At 22, I had just completed my Bachelor’s degree. It was a humanities slash performance degree. I felt truly at home with plays and drama performances. I was also predisposed to extreme thoughts, perspectives and emotions.
After my Bachelors, I went on to pursue a Masters in International Performance Research, which mixes the disciplines of Anthropology and Performance Studies. A year to six months before I was due to submit my postgraduate thesis, the downward spiral in my thoughts began. This lasted well till I was at least 27 years of age.
While I was studying in Belgrade (Serbia), I was homesick and often felt like I could not connect with my postgraduate peers. I feared about my future employability. I grew increasingly green-eyed from unrealistically comparing myself to Singaporean students who had secure jobs waiting for them once they graduated. But every step of the way from 18 years up to this point, I had made my own choices. As the imminent realities of uncertainty and possible unemployability began to loom closer and larger, I regretted my decisions and began blaming everyone else, especially my family. I could not contain the frustrations with myself and my choices.
Recovery
I came back to Singapore to recuperate. My family had wanted me to be in a safe place. At this point, many of the decisions I was making were reckless. Before I left Belgrade, I was taking weekend trips to nearby European countries. Changing environments did apparently help me with focusing on coursework. Keeping on the move helped me to not stay with my thoughts, which at this point were running faster than I could process them. Unable to alleviate the internal pain, I took it out on my family.
The broken record that kept swimming in my head was that I was a failure. I had failed my masters (even though I had not.). I felt that I had caused my family so much grief and was wasting their money because of my expensive University education. I was a failure as compared to my peers.
Healing
My healing and recovery took more than three years. I was stumbling for a number of years, across different jobs. Feeling broken led to many fraught work relationships, and I found it difficult to feel comfortable around any of my colleagues. When I was advised to leave a workplace, the broken record that I was a failure would play again.
My breakthrough came when I realised that these similar situations of feeling threatened, emotional and then engaging in self-sabotaging behaviours were connected by certain negative core beliefs. In engaging in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), I was able to be aware of these negative thought patterns and then actively seek to reframe them.
So how did I walk out of this? I just did — step by step; one day at a time. Sometimes I did take steps backwards, but the intent was always to move forward. Gradually, the memories of my past perceived failures began to fade and did not have the same hold over me anymore.
What I took away
During that period, I was angry and impulsive because I lacked clarity. On hindsight, what might have helped me was perhaps having more hope for the future. Someone to tell me that things are going to be okay.
If I could speak to my younger self back then, I would ask her to be kinder to and gentler with herself. With all the pain and confusion she was going through, she deserved the space and room to work through those thoughts and emotions towards recovery and healing.
The other advice I would give her would be the importance of maintaining mental discipline. Our unresolved issues from the past could cause entanglements that are complicated to unravel. However, our thoughts can be rewired and controlled autonomously, though this could take time. Mental discipline requires work, but it is worth it and it reaps results.
Our scars do not permanently stain us. The surviving cracks are our badges of victory, the victory of having overcome.
Edith has a heart to share her experiences if it might help anyone. She believes that everyone has a voice and relevant experience. She hopes that each of us looks out more for our neighbours in our daily lives.
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