So, I just celebrated my 28th birthday last week. Freaking OLD! Yes. Somehow I do feel older from like just two years ago? I realised this lack of youthful energy when I’m sleeping more and looking forward to relaxing after a day of commuting. Is it really me getting older and increasingly tired, or is it really just a health issue needing to be addressed? 20 mins of dancing could send me panting to the bar stands catching my breath – loss of stamina? I hope not. Since the mid of last year, I’ve been constantly worrying that I’m physically ageing rapidly. Worrying isn’t exactly a good sign either. When you’re a worrier, you just age faster. Although some people were being nice by saying that I’m looking younger everday, I still feel quite doubtful. Two things could probably be the culprits here; alcohol and depression.
In a boring country like Singapore, (some of you may dispute here, but honestly, if you earn x amount of money, you really can’t do virtually any fun things thinkable to do in Singapore, cuz everything involves a lot of money. Whereas if you earn 100x amount of money, the sky’s the limit) your options are pretty numbered firstly because this is a small country, and considering my meagre pay, the fancy $35 meals are totally out of the question. So what else could you think of that could be worth that $50 weekend? Alcohol. Mmhmm, unless you’re not a lightweight, $20 or less on two pints could be well enough worth it for you to be feeling chirpier. I find that I’m highly strung nearly all the time. I probably have an answer for that – unhappiness. That is mostly due to the shit quality of living that I’m facing, I’m definitely unhappy with the quality of my life and the living conditions of what I supposedly call “home”, to contribute to that dismissing depression of my “home”, the relationship with the boyfriend is probably now at its worst stage. With my compulsive need to go out every weekend and drink (because I really don’t want to stay at home), I find myself more lethargic. Alcohol and Depression works hand in hand like a vicious cycle in which you can never seem to escape once you’re caught in its spokes. You get happy for that few hours, but then when you go back to that dreadful, depressive place you call “home”, it just hits you even harder, like a ton of bricks. Completely sloshed, and feeling even shitty than before but the mood in the house didn’t change. And for that it has been a butterfly effect until I can truly make that decision to throw a wrench in those spokes wheels.