Being True and Honestly ME.

I feel really excited right now. An old high school friend came over today and he left 4 hours ago, but I am still excited about out meet up. It’s a guy called Alex. This is not about love, but about honesty and being yourself.

I met Alex in 2012 when I moved to SAS Puxi and he moved from Beijing to Shanghai and we have been friends ever since. We were close at school, we had classes together and he was in my tight group of friends. But today, I felt like I’ve met a new old friend. I saw a new side of him that I’ve never seen before.

He had on a familiar and comforting signature Alex smile on his face as he greeted me at 12pm in front of Burger King, where we decided to meet first but not have. Like any other meet-ups with friends, I mentally prepared myself beforehand and repeatedly told myself ‘to act myself’ and ‘be honest’ in the hopes that I will. 99.9% of the time I’d completely do the opposite and start acting once the sight of my friend comes into view. This time however was different. I felt relaxed and was able to act myself.

Dressing up like myself helped. I was in short shorts, a baggy yet slim-cut T-shirt that fit comfortably, old green converse that is fake and my white string-bag that looks like it should have retired long ago. Hair down, and then up when I got sweaty, and then down, and then up….point is, I didn’t care much.

Today my ‘happy’ mask completely came off and my wall was down. I was honest beyond honest. I confided in him, I told him the truth about what happened that sent me home, I told him my thoughts, and I was saying basically whatever was on my mind. It felt great! And he didn’t judge.

I’ve always thought of him as the nerd that talks like a walking encyclopedia and has a wall of intelligence around him that reflects anything dumb. I got to show him my Tamagotchis and he was fascinated by it. He said: “We were friends and close but I never knew you liked Tamagotchis so much!” At that point, I realised I was being myself and I was showing him who I really was. To that, I replied: “Yeah, that’s because I always thought you were a nerd who only likes to talk about economics, the world news and anything related to math or science.” I was so wrong. He is fun, and I saw his genuine fascination as he held the Tamagotchis in his hand.

He is not a robot, he is not perfect, he is not the ‘superhero’ everyone makes him to be. He gets anxious and stressed and depressed. He got a scholarship at high school, he goes to University of Pennsylvania and he is one of the smartest people I’ve known, but he has problems. He deals with similar things that I deal with. He reacts appropriately and he understands. When I confided in him about my depression and eating disorder, he shared his story about how he too wanted to kill himself and it got so bad that the school got him a psychologist. That was the first time someone confided in me like that. I was glad he trusted me enough to tell me. And it was also the first time I felt relatable on a ‘basic’ level with him. I realised, for the better, that he is not a superhero, he is not made of metal. He is human.

It feels good to be honest and open. I showed him my scrapbook. I am dying to show and explain to people my scrapbook, but only the right people. Without a thought, I started explaining my scrapbook to Alex. I told him the story behind each and every piece I drew. He was interested and he admired my drawing. The only thing I was right about him is that he is a thinker. He’d see a quote and think about it. On one piece, I wrote a letter to myself. He starred at it and I could tell he was thinking. He thought what I wrote wasn’t complete. I allowed him and he added onto the letter.

Alex is twenty years old. He acts mature, for his age and for any adult, but there’s still a child in him. He isn’t as ‘distant’ or as ‘mature’ (in an old-fashioned way) I thought he was. I told him that my dad still remembers him as the only kid that shakes his hand while introducing himself. Alex laughed and that’s what really broke the ice today and that led us into a conversation about how awkward we feel about greeting people. I realised he has trouble too and the same trouble that I have. I am not alone.

Further along, we watched Planet Earth together, with my brother. I didn’t quite enjoy the show, but it was entertaining and definitely cute. The longer the show went on, the more the kid inside him came out. First, I asked for a pillow to hug while watching the show. He passed me one, and got two for himself. Later, all the cushions from the sofa was on the floor or on us. He likes soft cushions too. Then, as the show as about to end, he made himself comfortable on the couch by lying down on his side. I was surprised to be honest. I thought about my image of ‘Alex’, the upright and polite and intelligent Alex wouldn’t put his feet on the sofa and lie down on his side. He would properly sit on the sofa. I wasn’t mad at him though, I was just surprised. And it was a new side I got to saw. It was a good sign, because it shows that he was being comfortable with me. Comfortable enough to show me his ‘other’ side.

I walked with him to the bus and got my bike at school. As I got on the bike, I ‘took a step back’ and looked at myself, my life. Today was a perfect day! My life is perfect! I was on a bike, riding home from school, through the fields of green grass, the sky was blue and there was a gentle wind blowing in my face. I just had the best day of my life, having deep meaningful conversations with a guy, playing board games at my house and watching TV shows while cuddling and being surrounded by pillows on the floor.

This was the perfect life. The life I always wanted ~ to ride my bike on a good shinny day, feeling happy and excited about how I spent my hours that day and going home with a light pleasant heart and a smile on my face.

One thing I realized today. It feels good to be honest. And when I’m honest, the other party will be honest back, which will lead to a genuine and meaningful conversation. Today, I had the best meet-up ever. The kind of meet-up I always dreamt about ~ sitting together talking, a meet-up not focused on food or eating, playing board games while sitting on the floor, showing off my Tamagotchi collection or collection of any kind, sitting close and watching a TV show together, and talking about anything and everything freely and so openly. In all, thank you Alex for showing me who you are.

Being open and honest and truly ME will lead to the happiest ME.

May 31: Being True and Genuine With Alex

OMG holy crap, what just happened?! I just had one of the most amazing afternoons EVER. Like, EVER. Met up with Alex at 12:00pm and from then on it was just chill. We met, and apparently he had lunch already, so he watched me Subway….awkward. But no. It was fine.

We sat at the outdoor fountain at the mall and talked for almost 2 hours. It was a really open, amazing and chill talk. We talked about everything, things that I don’t even usually talk about to people. There was no barrier, and the wall was down, I was comfortable and at ease and words just came out so easily.

We talked about not knowing how to address adults, life, my bracelets, ASMR water sounds, Sia and music, my life now, depression, suicide, eating disorders, weed….literally everything. Then we ran into Megan at the right time and we walked to my house.

We played board games. I showed him and explained every page of my scrapbook to him. WOW. I only did that for Trisha and him and it felt so nice to have someone to talk to about my scrapbook and express how I felt in that moment. So nice. Then we watched Fresh Off The Boat and Planet Earth. He left at 5:30pm.

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It was a great afternoon because we were both relaxed, so I was able to see who he was and he got to see the real me.

There was something about him that made me feel relaxed and comfortable enough to be myself. I tried my best to be myself, to not act, not be fake and it worked. I talked about whatever and acted like myself. I dressed like myself, short shorts, comfortable T-shirt, converse and string bag. That’s the most ME look ever.

The water fountain is how I wanted meet-ups to be. Relaxed, and not necessarily about food. It’s about being in the presence of each other and the conversation. The conversation was deep, only because I let myself get there. He didn’t push it. We talked about mental health and everything. I talked to him like I talk to my brother, I just let my English flow and I didn’t think much about it.

I sat cross-legged, I told him when my leg fell asleep and I kept stomping my leg. I shifted around because I was comfortable. There were silences but it wasn’t awkward and we weren’t in a hurry to fill it with random meaningless words. We just sat there, listening to the rise and fall of the water from the fountain.

I think for the first time today, I got to see who he truly was. He isn’t this smart-ass kid who only talks in words longer than 5 letters. He was relatable and he was just as confused, stressed, struggling, silly and anxious as I am. As any person can get. He is this twenty-year old kid. There’s no magic in him, and he doesn’t have this shield of intelligence that reflexes anything dumb.

We talked about not knowing how to address adults and being awkward around them, and he said he had the same problem too! I told him I tried to kill myself and I feel depressed, he said me too! I told him about Sia and Beatles, and he didn’t know them! At home, I asked for cushions while watching Fresh Off The Boat, after passing me one, he took a couple! He likes pillows! He even laid on the sofa, relaxed. He was honest with me, he told me he has anxiety and how he bites his fingers. He told me how he thought about taking a break from school.

It feels good to be so open, so honest with someone. To talk and to truly relax. I trust him and he is a genuine person. I didn’t see that part of him in high school. And I guess he didn’t get a chance to see that part of me too. I didn’t let that happen because I was too busy being ‘perfect’, too busy with work. Now he sees the real me. And I think he likes it.

 

Letter to Shang

• You constantly inspire me. You are a living proof that recovery is not only possible, but so is using your own recovery to help others
• You hold hope for me when I can’t hold it for myself
• So many times I’ve given up on myself but you’ve held onto hope and that’s why I’m still here
• After every session, I feel more inspired and motivated to live life
• ‘I believe in you and your abilities even when you don’t’

Letters to Teachers

People are going to think it’s weird, but I’m going to write them cards. I like to write cards and I like the feeling of receiving a card, and I’m sure others too. I want them to feel and know that they are appreciated.

Ms. McKenna

Hi Ms. McKenna! I hope you still remember me. I’m Tiffany. I graduated in 2014, but my brother graduated this year.

It was back in 2013 and I don’t think I ever told you, but Thank You for starting the Yoga Club. I still remember it was Tuesday afterschool at the dance studio in the PAC. It was just a small group of girls but we had a lot of fun. Before then, Yoga always seemed cool and really elegant and only for flexible people.

I went to every Yoga session. You were amazing and really good at Yoga! You can do the Chattaranga~ I tried, that’s hard! You must have practiced Yoga for a long time. You were also a very good instructor, you voice was calming and you ‘narrated’ well (sorry, I don’t know what you call that, but you know what I mean).

I would look forward to Tuesdays Afternoon Yoga Sessions with you. On other days, I explored on Youtube. I eventually came across Blogilates (a Pilates channel) and fell in love with it. Inspired by your teaching and your Yoga Club (and a lot of courage) I started a Pilates club at SAS and was the instructor for a small group of girls.

So I want to say thank you for starting the Yoga club and introducing me to Yoga. Without your club, I wouldn’t have found my love for yoga and Pilates and had the idea and courage to start my own Pilates Club. Starting the Pilates club at SAS has been one of the most memorable moments at SAS and it was a brave accomplishment that I am proud of.

Also Thank You SAS for inspiring and introducing me to new things daily and giving me the courage to live my dreams.

 

Ms. Sayer

Hi Ms. Sayer!

Didn’t get to see you at graduation….there were way too many people.

I want to say Thank You! I can’t believe it’s been almost 4 years ago that I was in your class. In 2013 I just came from SAS Pudong, from Geometry class and I didn’t know if I could do IB Math SL because I skipped Algebra 2. My teacher in Pudong suggested I do IB Math Studies, but I wanted to challenge myself and do Math SL.

I still remember the first day in your class. You put us in groups and to make a short presentation with PPT about ourselves. I remember that very clearly. You only had a few slides because you said you’re a very boring person (but I’d disagree). You are one of the most approachable and friendly teachers I’ve had.

You have a way of teaching that made difficult math less overwhelming and easy to understand. Math has always been the most challenging for me. I remember getting a D in math in 6th Grade on the report card and he called my parents in for a meeting. Things were the same in 7th grade, my parents were constantly at school with my math teacher because my math grade was always a borderline 70. In 8th grade, I took Algebra I Part I and my parents were worried.

After only a few classes, I felt that you were a great math teacher and I had confidence that I will be able to do IB Math SL, and do it well. Thank You for being so patient with me when I ask questions, especially when I ask you things over and over again because I forgot it the first time you explained it or I still didn’t understand.

Thank you Ms. Sayer, I wish you all the best in your next school! Keep being the friendly and caring teacher that you are. I’m so lucky to have been in your class.

Keep in touch! I will miss you. My email is: tiffanyw0316@yahoo.co.uk

Tiffany

Ms. Elliot

Mr. Kelso

Ms. Bradshaw

Mr. Robinson

Therapy (May 29): #16 I Cried In Therapy

We met at Portmann hotel after having lunch at Shangri-La Hotel Buffet to celebrate Jonathan’s graduation. I cried in Therapy. I showed her my calendar and she saw that I wasn’t having a very great week. I didn’t get to tell her about the highs and lows of each day, when she proceeded to ask me about gym. I told her I went on Thursday and Friday and how Thursday was good and Friday was terrible.

For some reason, we got to the topic about me not being good enough again. This time she asked me to imagine myself at the age of 5. Remember what I was like, what I did and what I thought. I described myself: At 5 years old, I was graduating kindergarten, I was a bold and brave kid and I played mostly with boys from my class. I wasn’t one of those dainty little girls who wanted to be all perfect and cared more about their hair than anything. I played in the sand box, built castles and would be loud to comfort others when the boys would come along to crash the castle. I smiled widely and laughed because at that age, the world was simple. And I was just me being myself. I was a creative and active and brave kid.

After that description, she smiled. She then told me to imagine my 5-year-old self sitting right next to me. She asked what I would tell her. I started crying….all of a sudden I couldn’t talk anymore. I was sobbing and was frantically looking in my bag for tissues. I felt slightly embarrassed. Lastly, after a while, I said, I would tell her she is cute and happy.

What made me cry is knowing that 5-year-old kid would turn out to be me, to be here, sitting in therapy, dropped out of college, and struggling with life. My brain did a quick replay of all the things that happened since I was 5-years old, and all I thought about was how I was treated at school: bullied but didn’t care and didn’t know. I always had some friends but I was always different and bullied. Bullied at the Chinese school by Wendy Zhou (who made me ‘be on her team’ and give her my yogurt I packed for lunch daily), bullied at Indian Embassy School by Sally Zhang and sometimes the boys, Tarek and Faraz, and bullied at Dulwich College by the group of girls (Elana and Emily and Isabella and Catherine) I was excluded from the class because I was different, and sort of excluded from the class at Shanghai American School Pudong, again for being timid and shy and for not talking much (Michael, Santiago, Victoria). And FINALLY at Shanghai American School Puxi I found my group, I found my friends that I feel good being a part of and being associated with. I found people that cared about me the same way I cared about them. We talked, we laughed, and we spent time together.

Another thing that made me cry was I feel that I haven’t changed while the entire world around me changed. I am 21 years old, but I still act young, even Trisha said it. I act like a kid because that’s how I know how to act and I feel like that’s me. This reminded me of what my mom and my brother keeps telling me, and what happened this morning. Last week I mailed off 4 letters to my friends, my mom kept saying how no one uses mail anymore and even laughed at me when we searched the entire airport for a post office. And that I told my brother I wanted to write Ms. Elliot a card and go take pictures with her together. He said it was a ridiculous idea and that he didn’t like it. He thinks it’s weird ~ the picture and the card ~ just unnecessary. It did hurt me because I am a caring person, I value relationships and I love writing cards for people and showing my appreciation. Too many people appreciate others but doesn’t show it or express it to the other person.

Shang then grounded me by doing some grounding techniques ~ looking around the room, counting 5 objects, looking around the room, counting 4 objects.

We also tried an activity to talk back to my voices. When I feel ‘not good enough’, I’d write down the thoughts and beside it, write down points in contrary of that statement. She also told me to read the statement daily: “I am good enough just the way I am”.

Homework:

• Write down thoughts when I feel ‘not good enough’ or ‘low’ and write at least 3 examples in contrary of the statement

Next appointment not made yet.

You are Not As Forgotten As You Think You Are

Your brain lies to you when they say ‘you’re not important’ and ‘you’re invisible’ and ‘no one cares enough to remember you’. You are affect more lives than you think and you make an everlasting impression on people.

• Ms. Elliot: My MUN teacher. We were walked pass each other outside the stadium. I kept thinking about her name as we walked closer. Right, Ms. Elliot. I greeted her without a doubt and she, in a split second’s time, replied and said ‘hi Tiffany’ as if my name was just there. My name rolled off her tongue as if we were best friends. No hesitation, no pause, no doubt. I wasn’t expecting it! I was expecting just a simple ‘hi’ with a smile and a nod that says ‘I know your face but I can’t remember you name’. She didn’t teach me. And I was only in her MUN for one semester. We did have some MUN events together, but our conversations are minimum.
• Brian Wang: I spotted Brian Wang in the crowd. I went over to say hi and he recognized me! He even joked that he was confused and almost presented me with a flowery necklace because he thought I was his student for this year. He was such a nice man, he introduced me to his college friends from Law and said I can do internship there and even introduced me as one of his best students.
• Mr. Saich: My 8th grade science teacher from Pudong. WOW. He recognized me and I recognized him and we had a good talk. It’s nice to see familiar faces.
• Alex: We talked SO well, and it was so casual. I feel like I can talk to him about everything and he did even remember that I took a gap semester.

May 28: Weird Dream caused Panic Attack

Had a panic attack during sleep last night. I wasn’t fully awake because I was so immersed in my dream, but my heart was beating really fast and loud and heavy. It was as if I was super nervous and anxious and running from something.

The dream had a couple parts to it and I don’t know how it lasted so long. The first part I was at a law firm as an intern and Brenda or someone called Ms. Bradshaw was my mentor and showed me around and I worked for her. I was working…then I was writing cards. They told me to write cards, I thought of all the people I wanted to write to, all my friends. I had a huge list.

There was a kitchen that connected the office to the bathrooms and the printer. There were always someone cooking. I was staying pretty late at the office, some lights were turned off because the people already left. I moved seats to sit next to someone that looked like Jia Ye or something. She was very cheerful and was also writing cards. It was like a library booth, we each had a ‘booth’. It was weird because I remember almost falling down when I went to pick up a blue pen.

Because I’m still not done with the cards, Brenda started showing me the printing machines and how to turn them off. I think they were printing machines, not sure. But I think they were more like files, where you have to kind of smoothen it out with your hand first.

Then another scene was me with my dad on the street, waiting for buses to arrive to get back to my home in Shatin. It was very late at night and it was very dark. There were lots of buses but none of the right one. As I was waiting, I stood at the entrance of a 7/11 shop. Then there, someone came and robbed me of my ipod/wallet/phone ~ can’t quite remember. But I was scared and I was angry. I hit back and fought for it. I guess this is when I really started getting panicky.

There was also another scene, probably back at the office, the left part of the sky was dark and was like night time while the part directly facing us was bright and looked like day time. It was magical and weird at the same time.

Weird dream. Caused me a panic attack. But I didn’t want to wake up because I wanted to find out what happened next.

May 27: Ayi’s Convo With Mom about Job

Overheard a conversation between Ayi and my mom this morning. Ayi was telling my mom about how she’s worried that we might leave after Jono graduates and so she has to start looking for a job now. If she looks for a job after summer, then it will be too late.

I hated to eavesdrop on people and to know that she has concerns too, but I couldn’t not not listen. I wanted to know and I was concerned and sympathetic. I’m someone who puts a lot of feelings into things. She has been working for us for almost 4-5 years now and she’s one of the best. My mom likes her, trusts her and she knows the routine of our stuff and all.

I always thought her life was simple and ‘easy’ in that there isn’t much to worry about. Go to work each day, get paid, and use the money to buy food and repeat. I liked that kind of life. And that’s what I imagined her life was. I hate to know that she too has so much to consider and think about and worry about.

It sort of shattered my ‘impression’ of life. I hate life, I hate how we are always planning ahead, watching out for ourselves and having to consider other people. That makes everything much more complicated. So much problem and so much to think about.

I want a simple life. I always said I wanted to live on the countryside on a farm with grasslands and do nothing but read a book drinking tea and going for walks on the grass. Easy and simple life. That’s because I want to avoid trouble. I fear trouble. You can call me a coward and a trouble-escaper. Yes. I don’t care.

But now this shows me that it is kind of impossible to have a life without trouble. I don’t want to suffer anymore. I want to die. If I died, then I won’t have trouble anymore. There will be no more suffering, no more problems, no more struggles and things will be easy. Actually, there will be nothing.

WTF is it with the Society Glorifying Poor People

What’s up with the world and being poor? It’s like a thing that people ‘admire’ and ‘pity’ (in a good way). My family are now watching a documentary/movie about a poor boy from Brazil, from a small poor town in Brazil and how he made it out to become one of the best African-Brazilian soccer players.

This is not the first movie I’ve seen made about someone’s poor life and how they worked hard and struggled and then became successful or something. This seriously annoys me. It’s like glorifying beggars. Yes, I do get that they’ve worked hard and it could be an inspirational story and all that, but WTF. So they’re ‘glorified’ and in a way, ‘praised’ for their success just because they’re poor? So what if I’m middle class or slightly rich and I achieve similar results? Do I get the same kind of admiration or attention or praise?

What’s up with all the ‘poorness’. Everyone wants to make their story worse and more suffering so that the contrast to their glorious lives would be a huge one and people would be wowed and admire them.

Not just movies, but also in real life. My Psychiatrist last time roughly mentioned than he came from a poor family who lives in public housing when he was young, and now he’s a doctor and he’s making lots of money. And he’s middle class or even rich. My mom was like that too. So was my dad. And because of that my mom respects him more and couldn’t stop telling people about it. I’ve already heard her say that ‘doctor story’ twice.

She keeps saying, ‘oh you’ve never experienced poor, so you don’t know how to appreciate things’ or ‘you’ll never understand what poor is like. Back in the day blah blah blah blah…’ or ‘we were poor and we worked hard to get here, we know what real hard work is like, your generation will never understand’.

Well, it’s not MY fault that I’m in this family and I’m not poor enough to understand what poor is. It’s suppose to be a good thing that I’m not poor, but she’s making it a negative and saying that I’m not good enough because I’m not poor. Because I’m not poor, I don’t work hard enough to get the things I get; because I’m not poor I don’t taste what real hard work is and have the same appreciation for things that poor kids do; because I’m not poor, I am not okay with failure; because I’m not poor, it’s not that impressive when I do good things; because I’m not poor, I don’t make the news when I get into a good college; because I’m not poor, I’m not that ‘special’; because I’m not poor, I’m a rich brat and a spoilt kid….

WTF. This makes me feel SO bad. I hate myself and I want to die real bad. I want to disappear. This week has been full of these ‘not good enough’s. Yes, I’m not poor so I don’t know how to really appreciate the things around me and fight for my rights and be happy at little things. Everything goes back to me, MY fault for not doing this and that, because poor kids would.

I want to SH. But I obviously couldn’t do that on my wrist or my arm, it would get noticed. I’d do it on my thighs….if I have the chance. But I still have to be careful. If I can’t be poor, at least I can be in pain.

We are always taught about poor people, movies about them, books about them. What about the rich people? The movies just make poor people seem ‘pitiful’ and that they are so good and so hard working and should be respected. In contrast, in those movies, they make rich and white people seem like bitches. Rich people are mean and terrible and ungrateful and not worthy and all… But that’s not who we are?! Where are the movies where rich people are nice? And kind? And smart? And caring?

I’m just really annoyed. I want to die…why are we, rich people watching movies and learning about poor people’s lives and all~ Yes we know they struggle. But we struggle equally too. We ALL have our struggles. So why only make movies about them and ‘praise’ them and ‘make their stories known’?

Don’t Give Up…Stay Alive