Back.

It’s supposed to be my two-week study break. It’s supposed to be a time of refreshment and restoration before my 1-month slavedriving surgical internship with 15-hour workdays and 36-hour calls begin next week, before we go all out for our final exams in March. But it was not to be.

“It’s no wonder you’re emotionally wrung out,” said Jn, “It’s just been one blow after another. Take some time off by yourself.”

Jn is the therapist I still see from time to time, not because I’m still ill, but because I’ve chosen to follow-up with the team regularly even as my second book about my journey to recovery from depression and anorexia prepares for its launch. We’ve decided to use this time to work on some underlying deep-seated issues.

It was on Sunday when I was beginning to feel defeated, and the day seemed to unfold seamlessly into Tuesday and Wednesday before I saw Jn and had decided it was enough.

Sunday was a day of reflection and melancholy. Somehow, a part of me began to be acutely aware of how important Community is to us. Some part of me thinks my classmate, and many others in their final years of university, passed away due to lack of belonging in a Community. When I watched the video that day, what struck me was that the man found joy not merely through his achievements because that can be empty, but through finding himself in a community of people who supported his endeavours. It made me think about the initiatives I’ve been spearheading in the student body regarding raising awareness of and strengthening mental health support in the medical community. It made me recall, that at the time I was ill, I didn’t have much of a community in school as well. It made me reflect, that though church, friends, professional help all played a role, the primary reason for my speedy recovery might just have been my finding a Community through my cycling and triathlon group.

Monday. For some reason, I couldn’t get over the fact that you had signed up for the half-iron man, because I kept feeling like it was just the beginning of my losing a friend to the sport. Monday. I got a text-message from a lady in charge of student affairs at school, Ms Y, saying that she needed me to return to school because she had misplaced my photograph for an award submission and would like a photographer to retake a photo.

Tuesday. I woke up with a heavy heart- how could Miss Y have misplaced it? She had requested a stack of supporting documents which I had painstakingly collated a month ago- the deadline was this friday, what happened? Why was only the photograph lost? Didn’t you ask me to pass them all to Ms S at X hospital so you would pick it up from her?

Tuesday. We decided to train together with another friend. I made the effort to accommodate to your timing and venue because I knew you needed to train. It was at a somewhat dangerous time, but I assumed that because we’d be in a small group, we’d be riding more safely. You assured me we would be going at an easy pace. But you were late, as usual, and as we rode, the two of you sped off into the distance, leaving me behind. There were many cars. You beat one amber light, without looking behind for me or waiting for me after. There were so many cars. I told myself it was okay, that perhaps, you were too focused. But that stabbed me- I felt this was just the beginning of training taking you away. Wasn’t training in a group about Community? Wasn’t it about looking out for one another and enjoying one another’s company and encouragement?

Then you beat another amber light. That was enough, and I turned back. I rode all the way home by myself. Ele was with me, her trunk all curled up- she sat heavy on my bike and wept.

It didn’t take long before you two discovered I was gone. I didn’t pick up your call. I only text messaged to say that after being left behind at two amber lights, it didn’t feel like my presence mattered. I think the two of you felt terrible, and very sorry. I don’t know why it broke me so much to be left behind.

I cried a lot that day. Something deep in me just set off. The straw which broke the camel’s back, however, was when after an hour’s journey back to school after a tiring day, I found out that Ms Y had “misplaced” not only the photograph, but all the supporting documents which I had painstakingly collated and submitted for an award the school had nominated me for. She was very chirpy, apologetic in an unapologetic way. She hadn’t realised that much time, effort, money and resources had been put into preparing those documents for her on time, which was a month ago.

“I’m so sorry,” she said chirpily, ” let me search for it now.” Wait a minute, I thought, weren’t you supposed to make a search for it before troubling me to make a special trip down? I waited for half an hour outside her office before she came out smiling, “I’m sorry I can’t find it. I’m sure we’ll find it tomorrow. But anyway, at least we have your photograph.” She waved her digital camera at me.

I was appalled.

When I talked to Jn about this, I remember sharing with her my utter sense of loss at the traffic light, and the sense of betrayal. Why was it so profound? It’s just two lights, woman. It’s not like you can’t take care of yourself. Suddenly I felt the entire sport was tainted. I didn’t want to do it anymore. Suddenly, I saw the pride and competition and self-seeking and wanted to abandon everything and everyone associated with it.

Then the revelation came.

In psychology, one school of thought suggests that we tend to find ourselves drawn to relationships that help us to recreate the fallen aspects of our relationships with our parents in an attempt to “make things right”. But because we are used to the old, dysfunctional interactional patterns of the past, we bring them forward to friends or partners, and into our future relationships. For a large part of my life, abandonment has been a huge issue. During certain significantly tumultuous periods in my childhood, I had felt abandoned by the predominant male figure in my life whom I deeply loved. As a result, my mind is primed for abandonment, because it what my subconscious expects.

“You look for people who give you the same stability as your childhood male figure did. But you often say or do things which erect barriers to protect yourself from being abandoned. Yet, your longing for community and approval is still there, and so this creates an inner conflict. So you reach out and backpedal constantly, and your mind constantly primes itself to prove that you will be abandoned because it’s the only way it can perceive relationships. It’s like a sensor for abandonment. And because of your fear of abandonment, you also sometimes abandon other people first.”

Spot on. It explained many things- the profoundness of my hurt at being left behind, my neediness at times, and also, my fear of being in a relationship. My subconscious simply awaits the final moment where it can validate its expectation of being abandoned, again.

But God has a funny way of teaching us things. Sometimes, the process can be so hard. But as long as we look out for the lessons along the way, it is worth it. It is always worth it.

I learnt, that in order to progress, I must overcome this. I had told myself I would allow myself to get into a relationship after graduation, and I suppose, now till then would be a good time to prepare myself for a healthy one. I have to at least try. Try to stop pushing people away and put a stopwatch on how long they’ll take before they leave me.

Wednesday was very interesting. I forgave my two cycling buddies and reframed my thoughts towards my Community. And in the afternoon, I had to meet a friend at X hospital. I was still deeply troubled by the “lost” documents. God, were you trying to teach me that I need not “earn” your love? Is this the same lesson you taught me through my injury? That I don’t need an award to be validated or affirmed? I couldn’t stop wondering, How did everything get lost? Didn’t Ms Y ask me to pass them all to Ms S at X hospital so she would pick it up from her?

Ms Y from the university had told me the day before, ” I hid it so well I forgot where it is.”

I sensed something very, very fishy.

Suddenly it struck me, that I was in X hospital. And out of the kind of tenacious curiosity sometimes possessed by medical students, I decided to call Ms S to find out how my package got “lost”.

Lo and behold, I learnt, that the package had never left X hospital. A month ago, Ms Y had told them not to mail it out yet. And along the way, she must have forgotten. ” I hid it so well I forgot where it is” suddenly became embarrassingly humourous, at my expense.

Many phonecalls and emails later, I made my discovery quite plain and the staff at the university were both apologetic and sheepish for their lack of transparency, professionalism and honesty. I won’t lie to you- I was angry. This had cost me a lot of time and energy. The forms had taken me hours to fill, the essays, days to write- during my busy internship period where I was hurried to submit them. I could not be certain if all my time would be wasted. There was no doubt about my appallment at the way things were handled, and how no effort was made to trace the documents when I had asked Ms Y repeatedly.

But I learnt a few things, and that was good enough for me. One, always to make a copy of any documents one submits; two, curiosity kills a cat but can sometimes tell you how another cat died too; three, it takes a lot patience, grace and compassion to deal with such situations in a godly manner. It would have been quite amusing to see myself kick up a fuss over a nomination. I decided against it. But I requested for a channel to give feedback to, and that my case be taken over by another staff, with a third party overseeing the procedure.

Through the past 4 days, I also saw God’s hand with me, through my pain and agony. He wanted to show me, how I needed to work through the issues of abandonment in my life, how I needed to overcome it to build healthier relationships with people around me. He taught me forgiveness and humility, when I apologised to my 2 friends as well for turning back abruptly. He taught me resilience in dealing with terrible administrative glitches and the grace to rise above it. I felt God being with me- my friend at X hospital was supposed to meet me on Friday- if he had not changed the date to yesterday, I would not have been there and would not have got to the bottom of the Mystery of the Missing Package. (You can say that if God were really with me then this would not have happened in the first place, but I am biased- God is good, and I only found my package because I was there at the right place and right time.)

In the busyness of coordinating plans regarding mental health support in the student body, I have also been tired out. Last night, I also arranged for 4 friends and myself to take Grandpa Zhou out for dinner. When I got home, I got a loooong email from Ms Y trying to explain herself.

“It’s no wonder you’re emotionally wrung out,” said Jn.

One of my mentors, Dr Lee Kim En from National Neuroscience Institute and a firm believer in the goodness of God once told us, “Some days are so bad that they make you feel defeated. It makes you feel like giving up. But tell yourself, ‘Today, today I lost. But tomorrow, tomorrow’ll be a better day. Tomorrow, I’ll be back.’ God’s mercies are new every morning.”

So I’m going to deliver my package personally to the school, give my feedback as graciously and matter-of-factly as I can, and just trust in God that things’ll turn out all right. After all, He already knows about the outcome of the nomination. Perhaps, this may just be a journey of faith for me to understand that I do not need to earn His approval, that He is in control, that His plans cannot be foiled.

And I won’t abandon triathlon. I will try to love more fearlessly, more securely. I will work with Jn on that, I promise.

For the past 4 days, I lost. But today, today, I’m back.