recently i’ve been playing, i’ve been played; i’ve been trapped in a prisoner’s dilemma. i confessed, i waited, they stayed quiet: i was punished for my faith, and then twice. i persisted until i was a willing party no longer: i had to, i have to, i need to act in my best interest.
but love isn’t a game; if it must be one, then the optimal outcome is not to play.
it doesn’t matter if you crawl back begging for forgiveness; there is nothing to repent for, because there was nothing between us in the first place.
and what about regret? again, i don’t regret anything — except what we could not have.
First written in Jul 2023, with minor edits and commentary in May 2024 (recovery is non-linear, but it will get better)
[May 2024: Enough about silly trivialities like men and love, boring! Let’s yap about ME! Specifically, my psycho ass side. Reviving the mental health logs for my fans!]
ZOU
Since my first post, I’m delighted to report that things have been looking up for me! I am still waiting to be connected with a psychologist, though (something about waiting time and accessibility of mental health services in Singapore…)
In the meantime, here’s a list of things that have helped me get through a recent depressive episode. They read like notes from a textbook, but there’s nothing quite like a hands-on experience.
Coming to terms with it all. Simply accepting that I did (and maybe always will) have a problem liberated me to focus on addressing it rather than being trapped in the quandary of self-doubt. [May 2024: Still psycho! But so happy.]
Social support and companionship. Many friends reached out after they saw my earlier post. Two aspects stood out — a lack of judgement and an affirmation that they would stand by me. In the weeks since none of them has treated me differently. We went out, played, and gossiped about nonsense as usual. I will always be grateful for them.
My partner has also been enormously supportive (well, he has always been), listening to my issues and being a staunch voice of reason whenever my spirals strike. He’s also been willing to communicate his challenges in his role as a “mental health caregiver”, which has helped us better navigate our difficult periods together. It’s important to care for your caregivers too!
me n my cuties
Taking a step back and reappraising. Throughout university, I’ve been compelled to prove myself by achieving “success”. My blog was literally named Gwyn’s Guides to Success (it is now Gwyn’s Playground to mirror my newfound commitment to enjoying life). [May 2024: it is now baby g’s diary. Character development!]
I wanted to get better grades, take up more leadership roles, engage in more extracurriculars, volunteer more, build more connections, write more papers, have my Prof like me more… the list went on. Talk about an unabashedly narrow (but not uncommon) definition of success. Put them together, and lo and behold, you have an amorphous ideal self unattainable by design. Goals became imperatives that incessantly berated me for not being enough regardless of what I did — like having the consciousness of a toxic tiger parent implanted in your brain.
I hit a turning point when my supervisor pointed out that my mental health was taking a toll on my work and that she was genuinely concerned. It was one hell of a “oh, wow, cool” moment (she broke character for me!) I was in such bad shape I could barely function at work, much less recognise that I was floundering. In the following days, I gave more thought to what I wanted (something I hadn’t done in a long time because I was fixated on getting through the motions). Sure, getting a Master’s degree is ~cool~, but I don’t need to destroy myself over it.
The same goes for other projects. At the end of the day, a commitment is something you willingly give your time to… so you don’t need to put in any more effort than you can or want to. To paraphrase a quote from another mental health advocate: you can’t water the grass when your well is dry.
Shoutout to the book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals on this topic. [May 2024: Sweetheart? Please mail it back to me.] The big idea: life is short, you can’t do everything, so embrace finitude and enjoy the moment, darling. As long as you’ve lived a life you thought was worthwhile, what does it matter what others think? In the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t. Life goes on with or without you. If a good life to me consists of reading manga and writing a personal blog in my spare time that nobody reads(!), then so be it.
Focusing on the things I love, for me. I’ve gotten back into the habit of reading, and you won’t believe this — writing! Similarly, I’m doing things for myself, because I want to, not only because it brings me to some societally-approved end. Some nights, I play Civilization VI over Discord with my friends and then chomp on garlic cheese prata with my family into the wee hours, ignoring the thought that I have a lot of work to do the next day. LOL. Of course, I’ve had to strike a balance because work never ends, but these little moments have made all the difference.
So get yourself some self-care. Take the time to recharge, and then move onto great things when you’re ready — if you want to, because you don’t have to!
well, are they?
Taking breaks. There’s only so much work you can do in a day. When you pare it down based on energy levels, you’ll realise that most work is not urgent or even important. When I’m stressed, I ask myself: what is the worst that could happen if I mess up this tiny ass task? Or miss a deadline because I’m overwhelmed? So what? It really isn’t worth all that stress. Go take a nap.
wahoo!
Breaking down things. Based on behavioural activation in CBT. Can’t beat your brain? Hack it.
Just be 1% better than yesterday.
Committing to the basics, whether you like it or not. Routines, baby!
I asked a friend over mahjong recently — what is your life purpose? It’s been a long-running preoccupation of mine stemming from the idea that I need to identify some sort of bigger calling to motivate myself to get up every day. He sagely retorted that it’s “not a good question and only stresses you out”.
Instead, focus on one small thing at a time to keep you looking forward to tomorrow. So that’s what I’m doing. It’s the small things… but they add up to make a good life.
I am eagerly anticipating the premiere of Dune Part 2 this November (okay, it’s been postponed to March 2024) [May 2024: it was better than I could ever imagine.]
And for Volume 3 of my favourite manga to be released in English [May 2024: I flirted my way into getting a Japanese copy because I couldn’t wait. I’d do it again! <3]
I am looking forward to the holiday trips I’ll have this year.
I am excited to master Japanese and get my JLPT N1 certification! Maybe in 5 years, LOL.
[May 2024: Well, so much has happened since. I’m sure 2023 Gwyn would have been proud of 2024 baby g. I definitely am! Hehe. I love you.]
with you in mind, i wrote another letter — i wanted to believe, so badly, that we were meant for each other. i’ll post it in time, maybe, when i’m doing better. for now, preserved in ink, we’ll always be together.
Another interesting thing is that a few similar questions were posted prior. All of them were fixated on women as the subject.
The answer distribution was interesting. It suggests that women do not give themselves completely to men until the latter have “proven their worth”, so to speak.
It made me wonder about my own answer. This post is my process of working it out.
Everyone deserves love — or so a humanistic therapist would say — although not everyone eventually deserves your love.
Not because reciprocity is expected, but because we have a finite capacity and must optimise where it goes. We must make calculated decisions about who we want to love and who we want to love more.
I wanted to believe I could love everyone the same, but I’m only human.
I was obsessed with you. I could beg you to pay attention to me and love me. But what for? I am chasing a mirage. You were never there; only my projected ideal of you was. Alone, I run, and alone, I am exhausted.
Or I could spend all that time that would have otherwise been spent pining on reconnecting with myself and the world. Even redirecting my focus to someone else would be a better idea — someone whose eyes will glow with affection when I am reflected in them and who has a fanatical, absolutist certainty about me. Repeat ad infinitum; such is the search for love.
If I think you’re worth it, of course, I would love you. But I cannot give endlessly without return.
Unrequited love is worthless — yes, not merely useless, worthless. Sure, feel your feelings and all — I understand — but all it ultimately is is a limbo that torments the indecisive. You must move forward. Either cross the suspension bridge to heaven and risk falling or leap straight into hell from where you stand. It will be terrifying for a while, but you will always land, which is a certainty you will never receive from the object of your affection.
The unknown is a critical variable in this. The law of probability is immutable — there is something better out there. Stay or leave for more.
With unrequited love, always leave. You owe it to yourself.
All that being said, would that have stopped me from loving you in the first place?
I bought you a gift before I realised that we had already met for the last time, a decision you made unilaterally for both of us and which I enforced. That’s okay; I’ll use it from now on. I will eventually forget it was ever for you: time is cruel to the ones who are loved but kind to the spurned.
So, my perhaps unexpected answer to the question (given the preamble) is: I will give you everything I have because I am, I was, ready to love you. I don’t believe in withholding love, though I do believe in withdrawing it upon reflection. If it’s not what you’re looking for, I will give it to someone else. I might break, but I will live, recover, and thrive in time.
i want you to take all the time you need to find yourself — you deserve that much.
but neither will i be waiting for you at the world’s end. with, or without me: you take everything now or you go; it’s a hard yes or a no. we don’t have enough time for anything else.
in the end, it seems to be all about timing, doesn’t it? it is, and it isn’t. we are now locked in each other’s orbit forever, regardless of whether we are bound to meet again in this lifetime.
and so be it, paths crossed or not — i would rather die than settle for you.
The spiritual sequel to How to Lovebomb. Obviously, written as a joke — or is it? (cocks head)
The Thingamajig Strategy (by love bomber): (Accidentally) leave something smol behind at their place.
How/why it works (for the love bomber): A physical object reminds them of you. It creates an excuse to initiate contact, passing the responsibility to do so to them as in a delicate cha-cha routine.
Counterstrategy (for the lovebombed person): Throw the thing away — unless it’s a wallet. If so, retrieve the money and then throw it away. If they really needed it back, they’d ask. If they really wanted to see you again, they would initiate.
how you’ll sleep after getting rid of things that don’t spark you joy
TheCasper Strategy: Ghost them on chat but watch their stories obsessively. Don’t forget to like the stories where they’re super cute or you think allude to you.
How/why it works: Ghosting someone traps them in self-doubt preoccupied with what they did wrong, even though the problem stems from your inability to communicate like an adult. Kick them while they’re down by liking their stories on Instagram regularly, which bumps you to the top of the viewer list so they can’t ignore you even if they want to. It’s all power play, my friends, a perverse one once deconstructed.
(Effective for chronically online people who primarily rely on Instagram as a source of validation. But not effective for those who have a horde of fans to account to if they make questionable decisions.)
Counterstrategy: DON’T block them from watching your stories; no, enjoy the attention! DO block their stories from your feed, so you live in their mind collecting rent while you pay none. Then, go on to live your best life, whether you post about it online or not. Remember that YOU are the bourgeois and THEY are the proletariat.
this could be us but u ghosted me.
The ReincarnationStrategy: Reappear in their life by DMing them out of nowhere after a prolonged period of presumed death.
This strategy has two variations, each inversely proportional to the confidence or sympathy you wish to leverage. (Neither matters.)
Confidence route: provide no accompanying reason at all: simply audaciously announce that you desire to see them again.
Sympathy route: supplement the request with an explanation that you have been through some trööma that regrettably caused you to be unable to, again, communicate beyond the level of a three-year-old.
Pick the first variant if you’re insecure and the second if you’re manipulative. This strategy creates a virtuous loop with the ghosting one. You meet, die, reincarnate, and then die again! It’s an absolutely infallible combo. I recommend it 10/10 for clowns.
How/why it works: It throws the recipient off-guard by making them wonder if you have been thinking of them all this while. If they’re so over their head that they forget that you could have contacted them any time in between but chose not to until it was convenient for you (because they are ultimately a substitute), it could seem kind of romantic. In a world where we convince ourselves we don’t owe each other anything, it’s easy to confuse any casual act for affection. Lover beware!
Counterstrategy: Laugh in their face and move on. If you give in, oh well — we all have to binge on fast food occasionally because what is life without sin and a little indiscretion, even if you get a stomachache later. Just don’t make it a habit.
this photo isn’t even thematically related anymore. it’s just funny
The Promising Strategy: Make promises you have zero intentions of following through with.
Why/how it works: Empty promises lead to expectations, and the most powerful longing always concerns things that could have happened but never did. It’s inverted regret — a nostalgia for something that could’ve been, which could have been anything.
Counterstrategy: This one involves a radical change in your philosophy but will transform your life so drastically you’ll never look back. Hold on tight.
There are NO exceptions to this. NONE. Intentions mean absolute jackshit until they are realised. Whatever form they take on before realisation does not matter. It might as well not exist. It never existed. (TIL I’m materialistic without the -ic.)
If they believed you were worth it (immaterial), they would show you (material). If they claim to miss you (immaterial), they will meet you (material).
We can go further. A text telling you they miss you means nothing if they do not schedule a date to see you again. A kiss means nothing if the relationship is never defined (a “situationship”) and you are not cuffed — made “material” through accountability to others or bound by a physical contract.
We can argue that a text and a kiss are material since they occur in reality. But that is irrelevant because it is overshadowed by the immaterial intention behind the action that we project onto those we so desperately wish would love us.
The intention means nothing, even if they imply it, especially if you infer it.
Realise that we can never accurately capture the meaning of the present moment — the full picture only emerges in hindsight when the future has happened so that we can contextualise the past with it. You can immerse yourself in the now and feel it all, but that still doesn’t imbue it with any meaning outside your feelings. For an intention to be real, it must be manifested.
The past, present, and future cannot be considered separately in determining what is real and meaningful. Hell, even if it was real, it might not have meant anything. Maybe this is the logic that my pragmatic fans follow — did you really love them if you were never serious about them?
Naturally, you could argue that an intention could be real and meaningful, just that the person seems to be acting differently because you are mistaken about their intention. For example, if you’re only interested in sex, you only do booty calls. That’s perfectly congruent and reasonable if both parties are on board.
But the whole reason games exist is that people struggle to be upfront with what they want — worse if they do not know what they actually want. Then, everyone is in for a ride, and all intentions can go to die.
We can only establish if someone is sincere about you through the two elements of continuity and consistency. In other words, action and commitment, over and over, like the sea waves crashing into the shore for eternity, until death do us part.
—you will find someone who will love you, who sees you as a person, who is attracted to you; who will choose you, and continuously choose you.
my bestie (if everyone had a love like this there would be no divorces)
In short, words are just words (suddenly, I realise what my love language is not). You telling me I’m your favourite or that you respect me means nothing. I don’t care. You either prove it, or none of it matters — saying it is just performativity. You don’t have to say anything; I already know.
Intentions alone mean nothing. Promises mean nothing.
Perhaps even this blog post has meant nothing. But I hope it is at least marginally useful for my fans in helping them sieve out people who deserve them and people who don’t. God willing, considering how much time I’ve wasted on playing games, I might as well help people save some of theirs.
Know your worth, and the rest will follow. Whatever you give, you will receive in turn, good and bad.
– x, baby g, who loves you always (and has hopefully demonstrated it)
Bonus:
we accept the love we think we deserve.
my other bestie (quoting the Perks of Being a Wallflower)
my friends often tell me that i attract a “problematic” type of man but maybe that is because that is exactly what i want.
(highlight at own risk) can a decent conservative man really look straight at me with a hunter’s eyes, choke me, and then call me his good girl? in the end, he has to be a bit crazy, just like me.
and even if he does not want me — how will he ever settle for vanilla?
baby g’s diary 