sort of paying tribute to Baek Sehee.
a few years ago, i noticed a pattern in my life: since i was 16 (but it could also stretch back to 10 y/o), something big will happen in my life every three years, which would eventually affect me a lot and change me in some ways.
age 16: my mom passed away.
age 19: trigger that caused my first panic attacks.
age 22: damaged half of my limbs at the same time — among other things — that led to mental health struggles.
age 25: depression that required medication.
age 28: something, maybe.
i wanted to write this a few months ago as i was reading the book, because parts of the book resonated with me. but i got sidetracked since being home in Malaysia. to be fair, i have never had to battle extremely dark thoughts a lot; sure, i have thought of giving up and once developed a coping mechanism of inflicting physical pain to numb down the emotional pain, but compared to the true crime stuff i read/watched, that’s nothing, who hasn’t, right?
not to say that i completely forgot about this post, because it did cross my mind every time i ate pan mee (a noodle dish). and i realised i could eat it all the time (since there are many variants too). i can’t say i associate it with my family or childhood… but it eventually developed into the first food i eat whenever i land, and my go-to whenever i was cursed with many choices. even so i don’t have a favourite, i like them all; unless they’re shit.
so this post sat as a draft, then my mom’s death anniversary is coming up. i used to post an open letter on instagram annually in the first 11 years. but stopped last year. i don’t really have an explanation: maybe because my paternal grandma passed away the year before and i could not handle the grief; or i was told that i am not the only one who feels sadness just because i post about it; or i ran out of pictures. probably all of it. i do feel self-conscious now about it being performative and sympathy-hunting, or worse —— a pathetic attempt at seeking attention.
to clarify, my mom did not take her own life. so it is a bit ill-fitting to be combining these topics (yeah, the common ground is really just “death”). though i expect my mom would enjoy the book, even if i cannot imagine her as someone who needed emotional enlightening… the things i’ve learnt about her since her passing do make me believe that she did not only suffer physically.
there is a list of regrets, as there always is when it comes to losses, but the one that’s been lingering on my mind lately is how i never got to know her as an adult.
i don't like kwy 