there is a meme going around on twitter (you will never be able to make me call it by its godforsakenly evil and severely uncool new name) where people upload a photo of something that brings them the simplest joy and captioning it “never kill yourself”.
the impact of those three words. never kill yourself, because of this fucking godly nasi lemak that singlehandedly makes life worth living. perhaps it sounds nonsensical, insensitive and tactless, even – how is a dish, no matter how tasty, a solution to suicidal ideation?
(disclaimer: it is not. self-harm is not a joke and here are some links that may be useful if you are struggling with such thoughts)
i have struggled with mental illness for almost half of my life and am no stranger to the all-encompassing feeling of dread that nothing will ever be good in life again. for me, thoughts and feelings of this nature have always felt very large and very heavy, like ginormous boulders that stand so tall and wide that they block any sliver of hopeful light from penetrating my brain fog and fear haze. because of that, i grew up thinking i needed a similarly large and heavy one-stop solution that can demolish these boulders to let the light in in full blast. an all-or-nothing approach.
but as i grew older, i realised that there is rarely a one-stop solution to this kind of things (one can argue that antidepressants are probably the largest and heaviest solution you can get, but care should be taken not to mistake them as magic wonder pills). as i grew older and gained more experience and confidence, i learned that the theoretical one-stop solution is no more important than paying attention to the myriad of little light slivers that manage to slip through the edges of the ginormous boulders and occasionally puncture the foggy haze. these, are the “never kys”s (alternatively its SFW version, the “life is worth living”s).
at the peak of the Arcane craze last year, i was averaging approximately 30 hours a week playing TFT with a friend for two months. it was entirely unremarkable, but it brought me so much joy. there are few things better than the muted anticipation of rushing home from work to consume a piece of media that i was obsessed with at that point in time. to have the AC on, my three screens in front of me with a gifted candle burnt to lend its aroma for maximum olfactory indulgence; it was like any other weekday night but it was sufficient for me to be happy and content with life – and really, is that not what life ultimately comprises of? a jigsaw puzzle of these little moments which make me grateful to be alive, to enjoy every sliver of happiness no matter how small or insignificant it may objectively appear to be. happiness does not need to be large and heavy for it to exist.
Christmas 2024 at home was really one of the most memorable and enjoyable periods of my life. Aunty Wendy and her family flew to Alor Setar for Christmas, and that week was chock-full of Chagee, scrumptious meals, and my favourite – soju and Mario Party with Caitlin, Ian and Mark. it was the first Christmas in a long, long time that i felt such camaraderie with my cousins whom i had recently reconnected with, which made me cherish the moment immensely.
and finally, the most unremarkable of all slivers – having good food in the company of even better friends. better than average Klang bak kut teh in Singapore? fucking love it. airy pancakes that feel like i’m biting into clouds? instant dopamine hit. eating tomato hotpot to my heart’s content while laughing over stupid shit? this is what it means to be alive. there is nothing more complex or deeper than that, beyond the simple joy and pleasure of indulging my taste buds in delectable food, desserts and drinks while hanging out with people whose presence i thoroughly enjoyed.
the message i am trying to convey at the end of the day is this: we can’t all have grand achievements of euphoria everyday, so why not be gracious with ourselves by taking a break every so often to let the light in? another meme progeny of twitter: “there are cathedrals everywhere for the eyes to see”. there is a line from Gabrielle Zevin’s novel Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow: “Marx was fortunate because he saw everything as if it were a fortuitous bounty.” Hwang Bo-Reum wrote in her debut novel, Welcome to the Hyunam-dong Bookshop, “(…) happiness is never beyond reach. It’s not in the distant past, nor on the horizon of the future. It’s right in front of me. Like that day’s beer, and today’s quince tea.” the happiness we contain in our heart, is the happiness we choose to acquire. and i choose to see cathedrals, accept fortuitous bounties and reach for that beer or tea everyday, in order to give my life the meaning it deserves.
michelle teoh 