the monochrome life
oh me oh my, i let a whole year pass before another blog post.
hello, hi - it’s me again - natalie with the attempt to revive the early 2000s era blog posting period of my life.
2024 being a whirlwind is probably the calmest way I could put it. A lot happened. Some might even say way too much happened. Others might also say that it was quite possibly one brick away from me deciding to end it all. I won’t though. I’m still here, aren’t i?
If 2023 was a year to work with intention, 2024 was a year of forks in the road. I always knew it was coming, but the realisation of having to leave a place you called home for 6 years, and going through with that - caused a lot more pain and turmoil in me than I thought possible. Sometimes, you go through certain shit in life, and you tell yourself “well, I survived that, I can survive anything!” and then a new piece of poo gets thrown in your face, and you go through the vicious cycle once again. A true testament of the resilience of a human being, if you will. But with this…. This truly felt like something I would not be able to survive.
Moving over to Australia was not just for educational and career growth purposes, but I learnt to soar there. I grew up not just in learning how to be more independent, but I learnt many things about myself and I learnt how to be better. I learned skills that were not only practical in life, but I also learned about life. My heart felt full as I found my purpose, and I was able to embrace my purpose fully. Telling stories, growing communities, and creating a life of personal growth - it became my everything. Many people might think that I just craved that sort of independency, but I can safely say that the independency was just a small smidge of why I enjoyed my time in Australia so much. The things that I experienced over there made me into a person that, for the first time in my life, felt truly comfortable in my own skin. A person that felt brave enough to constantly take the plunge, and try out new things, and reach out to creatives and foster a creative journey that was without a doubt my own.
Having that be ripped apart from you is a pain I never wish upon even my worst enemy.
But you learn to stand up, brush the dirt off your knees, and try again. And so, against my will, I packed up and moved back home to Singapore in May 2024. I had about 6 weeks before I was flying to Edinburgh to work at the Fringe, and the countdown was quite about the only thing keeping me going. The anxiety levels shot through the roof, and the panic attacks were frequent. They started a couple of weeks before I moved over, and I cried myself to sleep most nights just thinking about losing everything that I knew. There was a brief moment just before I was to fly home that seemed like my move back would be temporary, and I would find myself in Australia once more. When I got back, I set my life about to figuring out what it would take to move myself back to Australia, and count down the days til I get to the UK. I remained positive as much as possible, and I allowed myself to hurt. To feel every ounce of that hurt, and to also look forward to the positives. The dreams get dashed as the barriers to returning get built back up again, but I remained hopeful. I went over to the UK, and not to be somebody to sound dramatic (you scoffed at this part, you did - I’m certain), but the moment my butt touched the plane seat, everything in my life felt calmer. My brain stopped whizzing about, and suddenly I knew that everything would be alright. Perhaps its the familiar that I was returning to that my body rejoiced about, or the fact that I was returning to the land where I would be surrounded by creatives and friends once more, but that was the first piece of calm and comfort that I had felt in weeks.
The 3 months flew by. And as with all Fringe Festivals, it was filled with chaos, performances, extremely late nights (into the mornings), alcohol, nicotine, and an endless amount of emails (and way more but i’ll spare you the details). And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Unless you personally experience what it is to be surrounded by 10,000 creatives in the small city of Edinburgh for 6 weeks straight, I don’t think you quite truly understand what a fever dream actually is. For 3 years in a row, summer in Edinburgh has become a staple in my life, and this will always remain one of the true highlights of my entire existence.
At the end of the 3 months, the dread starts to kick in once more. What do I do now that I have nothing else to look forward to? Nothing else to count down to? The panic creeps in, and the fear overwhelms. Again, not to be dramatic (stop scoffing at me!), but it feels like colour is being drained out of your life. And to return to live in a black & white existence? Absolutely not. That is not what I sacrificed so much for. I lay down the steps. I apply for jobs. I try to be positive.
So I got a job, I settle in. I try to live everyday making it as fruitful as possible, and I made it out of 2024 alive. Truth be told is, I’m not sure if the pain is ever going to heal. My heart still hurts at the possible thoughts of me never being able to collaborate with amazing creatives again. Creatives that I consider some of my true friends who inspire me every day with their driven purpose to create. There are some nights that I am alone in my room and the fear crawls all over me, and the panic sets in again: what if my purpose is gone forever?
I know for a creative, the location doesn’t really matter. You can create work wherever you go, but honestly? The location actually does matter quite a bit. If you’re never truly in a space that feels encouraging enough for you to create - what happens then?
How does one make peace with the fact that they don’t feel truly comfortable in the place they physically grew up in?
The truth is, I’ve been back permanently now for 7 months, and I’m still struggling. I feel like I’ve lost my sense of purpose, and my sense of self, and I live with a lot of constant anxiety, panic, and fear. To learn how to restart your life in your late 20s/ early 30s is a truly terrifying experience, and I know that I’m not alone in this. it’s not to say that I’m not trying. I try everyday. I wake up, and I do my best to look at the positives, and I constantly look for good challenges to give myself. I am thankful for what I have been given: a good job, amazing friends, and a supportive network community. I count my blessings, and I put my head down and do the work.
I keep working at it. I keep doing the work. But living the monochrome life after having tasted the colours of the rainbow makes you feel soulless. There is a huge hole in my heart that I’m uncertain if it’ll ever mend. There are solutions to this, and there will be opportunities that I will seek out to get myself out of this funk. But for now, I will allow myself to sit in this grief, and learn to make peace with it. The fire might look to be dying out for now, but one day, I hope to find the fuel again to reignite it all once more. Maybe this blog might be a small step towards that.
memento mori