a bit much
back in this familiar but unwelcome rut.
For some reason, instead of going to bed like a sensible adult should, I started tapping through the old Instagram Stories I saved into my Highlights for the launch of The Singapore I Recognise. I looked back at the excited posts about book cover reveals and preorders, re-reading the early reviews and feeling moved all over again by readers’ reflections.
It was around this time of the year, two years ago. Back then, Singapore was also gearing up for the annual National Day Parade circus, but we were able to subvert the hegemonic nationalism a little bit by asking ordinary Singaporeans about their Singapores. We asked people about their hopes and wishes for the country they wanted to live in. In those reflections we found wistfulness, optimism and yearning. People didn’t make very huge declarations, but what they said felt beautiful and profound all the same. These weren’t cheesy slogans imposed from the top-down; they were earnest wishes held close to the heart.
It feels like a long time ago now. Two years have gone by in a flash, packed almost to the brim with work and activity. In that time I started and stopped going to therapy—twice. I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD, which means I now have medication that helps sometimes and a better understanding of myself that helps all the time. I’ve learnt to be gentler and not drive myself so hard. I’m trying to live more lightly, but there are times when this is harder to achieve and old patterns re-emerge.
It’s been a busy month: workshops, meetings, writing, TJFest and a ton of Mekong Review editing and proofreading and commissioning. So many emails and messages, so many questions and requests and obligations and demands on my time and attention. I’ve had many, many late nights, some the result of work but probably more the result of revenge bedtime procrastination to wrest some indulgent time for myself at the end of the day. I’ve generally been better at taking weekends or days off to recharge this year, but haven’t really been able to do so this past month. And suddenly, more suddenly than I was ready for, I’m back to the burn-out mode I’d been trying to avoid.
Looking back at The Singapore I Recognise in this state is a bittersweet, melancholic experience. I’m reminded that I really did pour a large chunk of my soul into that book, and I’m still so grateful I had that opportunity to put all those experiences and reflections on the page. No matter what happens from here on in, that book is a precious record of who I was, what I’ve been through and what I was thinking at that stage of my life.
But it’s also making me feel sad right now because we’re more than halfway through 2025 already and I’ve barely worked on my own writing project at all. There just hasn’t been enough time and, more importantly, headspace. There are so many balls in the air and it’s a challenge to keep it all together; it feels like things keep slipping out of my grip, even if it’s as simple as forgetting to buy butter even though I’d literally just been reminded of it 15 minutes ago. I find myself wishing for a safety net, for someone who will say “don’t worry, I’ll take care of this for you”, but it’s got to the point where even offers of help are overwhelming because the question “is there something I can do to help?” feels like extra cognitive load—yet one more decision that I have but cannot bear to make. So even when someone does offer to help, I end up doing everything myself anyway.
Of course I remember that The Singapore I Recognise also took a long, loooooong time to write for precisely the same reason. That’s not really comforting, though, because it makes me wonder if that means it’ll take that long again for me to work on this project. I wonder if emotions and memories might be lost if I take so long to actually write what I want to write about my late grandfather, and it makes my heart ache because it feels like an unexpected way of losing him one more time. Of letting someone down—and also letting myself down—yet again.
A lot of this is probably the burn-out talking. I’m back to that down, exhausted feeling of trying to hold too many things in my head at once, like I’m being pulled in too many directions. At least I’m now recognising it as a message from my brain and body that I need a period of rest and time for myself. It’s just that, with deadlines still looming, I can’t afford to do that right now. Taking a pause from the work day to write this blog and get things off my chest is just one small way of making it up to myself and getting myself to hold on for just a little bit longer.
And it should really be just a little bit longer; I think I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and not a moment too soon. There’ll still be things on my plate but hopefully it won’t be spilling over in the way that it is right now.
So here we go… pushing through for a little more, even if it’s a bit much. I’ll just have to keep these wise words in mind 👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼