Untergang - The 12-pack of tissues.
24 Dec 2018
In late January/early February of 2018, I bought a 12 pack of facial tissues. (Or was it a 9 pack, my memory is fuzzy. I am trying to avoid having to think about those painful days.)
2 months ago (late November/early December 2017) I received news that I was not selected to be an Orientation Group Leader/Orientation Facilitator. And amongst the cold, moist, math-y exhibits of the Science Center Singapore where I interned, I froze. I fell back into the chair in despair, while the girl who broke the news to me, tried to comfort me, saying that it could be an email fault, or that it wouldn't matter anyway. A lot of shit happened in those days, such as me being informed, by phone-call, that I was eligible to take a H3 subject, which could lessen the pain of my failure. But the damage was done. Sure, my interview was complete crap, embarrassing myself by singing an out-of-tune rendition of two lines from a song by my favorite band Iron Maiden. And embarrassing myself by panicking and freezing up when told to introduce myself.
But I expected to at least make the cut, given that I had much better conduct and grades than most of the other applicants. But apparently I wasn't good enough. Silly of me to think otherwise.
And so it begun, the downfall.
So I tried to look on the bright side, that Since I didn't have to go for J1 Orientation, I could free up time to practice my sport, and to study, to ensure that I can finally get into the competition team for Nationals in my senior year. But no. My mental state was ruined. On the Friday of J1 Orientation week, I cried while eating lunch, after seeing the happy faces of all the OGLs having fun, and their hyped up feelings, and mourning all the fun I was missing. And so I bought a twelve pack of tissues to wipe my tears. (It cost 90 cents.) Little did I know, this would presage my entire year.
So during the week I consistently went for CCA sessions to practice my sport. And I made some minute improvements. But alas my anxiety got the better of me. Whenever those OGLs come into the training room in their pockets of time, I tensed up and my form went to shit. And I was much too panicky and my feelings of inferiority and sadness from seeing all those people whom I wish I were in the position of. Well, there was this girl from my class who made matters worse, lets call her JL. JL was a quick learner, and despite having about 6 months less experience then me in the sport, she was improving rapidly. And she saw us as friends, I guess, and she had something of an overly loud mouth. And she would complain about how J1 Orientation was taking up precious training time, while bemoaning that I was "so much better" than her at the sport.
I was not. I was a panicked mess and an inconsistent player. Whereas she had the riches to arrange some extra practice sessions outside of school practice time, and had the luxury of chaperone parents to arrange transport for her and her equipment to the extra practices. I did not. And yeah I shouldn't use that as an excuse for my lack of improvements. But I can't help feeling inferior next to her and it certainly affected the effectiveness of trainings in school. I was also probably affected by the change of coaches as a result of crappy school administration. And my skills deteriorated.
And then came time for the Invitationals competition. In Febuary soon after Orientation. I expected myself to have an advantage, what with the missed training sessions the OGLs had during Orientation. The Invitationals, grand as they were, were a mere selection trial, to choose who in our team got to play in the Nationals competition. So there were six of us girls in that category. 4 J2s, two of whom had been OGLs. And 2 J1s, talented geniuses who entered the school through DSA. And they of course, were also involved in Orientation. And, to hell with whatever Challenge Trophies the school would win if the entire team played really well. This was really a competition among us six, to choose the best four, who will get to represent the school in the Nationals. (Of course, there were other categories in the sport/CCA as well.)
And all the expectations I placed on myself, all came around and stabbed me in the back. And through thick armor I thought I had, I bled instead. I saw our previous (fired) coach at the competition venue. I missed him. Then came time for competition. I freaked out. I panicked. I had too high hopes and expectations. I was a sweaty mess. See, being good in sports requires not just brute strength (I had much of that.) but also grit, will power, and a certain calm which I lack. As I played in those tormentous about 50 minutes following a shaky 15 minute warm up, my form broke down, my body began to fail me. I kept losing. At the end of the competition, I ended up in second last place amongst the girls in my category in my school. (And, oh, the irony. The two of us in last place were the non-OGLs who actually had more practice time and more resting time in the few weeks before this competition.)
Next came the second Invitationals. A second trial. A second chance. At that moment, I was not set to have a place in the Nationals competition. And I was scared. I really wanted to play again. To represent the school. But this time, the expectations were too much. The humiliation of losing the previous time was too much. I timed-out to consult the new coach near the start of competition. But, HAH. What help did it have? I was still a shaky mess. Again I failed to place in top four in my school. Except this time I had the glory of last place. And fuck JL, who has continued with her rhetoric that I am a good player, complaining about her lack of skills. She played really well.
After this Invitationals, it was a short one week "holiday", followed by the March Common Tests once school reopened. Or the first major examinations of the year. During that holiday I attended some trainings. And hell, JL for some reason I cannot comprehend, chooses not to attend. Soon I would find out that all the trainings that I had been attending were useless. But at that time, I savoured the moment. To play. For what would have been the last time ever where I got to play. Only I didn't know it then.
March Common Tests. History Exams were on the last day. The afternoon of Friday. The very last exam. And the teacher-in-charge decides to inform me, and other eliminated players, of the fact during Friday's lunch break. Right before my exam. And hell do I want to fuck her ass, because this information sure as hell destroyed my mood for the exam. So the format of the exam was that there was one 40 mark source analysis question, and two essays of 30 marks each. And I only did one of the two essays. Because my hand was moving slowly because I was in a really shitty mood. Actually that would set a precursor for the rest of my History exams in 2018, which were taking a nap before the exam while panicking about the information I cannot remember. And when the teacher returned the scripts, he was flaming me for not completing all three questions. Because I ended up failing that exam. And this was the first time I failed History, so the impact of not being chosen for competition has been really something.
After exams ended, prep for Nationals was in full force. Everyone was training really hard for their competitions. Except I was exempt from a third of those few practices because I was not in the Nationals. And when I was there I was made to be in charge of administrating and recording scores for their practice matches. And it hurt SO MUCH. To see them in the position I wish I were in. I wanted to badly to be the one to play. Even if it would take up even more precious studying time. And that Hell Month training would sap my energy. In the hot, stuffy training room I almost broke down.
And for some time before, during and after Nationals, I couldn't face JL. We were kinda in the same "clique" in class. And so friends would know that JL had competitions and ask why I did not, even though I was in the same CCA. And my wounds would fill with salt, again and again. As I explained how I was a crap player who couldn't make it into Nationals, I felt so inferior to JL.
And also because representing the school for Nationals competition was one of my major goals for JC. The reality that this dream was dashed would frequently hit me. Leaving me in bouts of sadness. And I cried a few times thinking about this failure of mine. And sadness often paralyses me, leaving me unable to move or do anything.
And perhaps my "girlfriend" "breaking up"and not talking to me after I forget to get her a birthday gift amidst all the January nonsense of not getting to be an OGL. (Yao from the Einsamkeit story, if it matters.) This also intensified my sadness.
So throughout the school year I often sat around and started spacing out, followed by crying, as I remembered the pain of not going to Nationals, and the pain of losing a friend who I really loved.
That packet of tissues has since been used up. I cry a lot. Over inconsequential stuff. Or I cry and feel sad for a disproportionately long amount of time over something sad. A classmate, E, Is probably really done with my crying. Such as how I teared up during Chemistry practical exams because the lab tech was trying to tell me how I didn't have to re-wash the equipment cos they were clean, and I started panicking because I didn't understand her minority accent.
And another blow was how JL went back to the court which our team trained at after we graduated from the CCA. And an air-conditioning unit had been installed at that indoor venue. She said it was quite pleasant for the juniors to train there. I wanted to see it. But I couldn't bring myself to go back to that room and relive the torturing memories of my failures. I never saw that nice air conditioners which our batch were so hyped about.
And wow, I as an individual managed to use up a whole twelve pack of tissues by crying, in a year. I must cry a lot.
The German titles in this post and the aforementioned Einsamkeit really dont mean a thing. It is just a remnant of my trying and failing to learn German back in 2015/2016.
And on a brighter note, here's a little meme-thing.
Me: Sees a religious vegetarian, there are many in Singapore.
Me: Is very confused how they decide that it is okay to eat eggs and drink milk but somehow garlic, an important nutrient promoter, is off-limits.
Ok, not funny. Bye.
In late January/early February of 2018, I bought a 12 pack of facial tissues. (Or was it a 9 pack, my memory is fuzzy. I am trying to avoid having to think about those painful days.)
2 months ago (late November/early December 2017) I received news that I was not selected to be an Orientation Group Leader/Orientation Facilitator. And amongst the cold, moist, math-y exhibits of the Science Center Singapore where I interned, I froze. I fell back into the chair in despair, while the girl who broke the news to me, tried to comfort me, saying that it could be an email fault, or that it wouldn't matter anyway. A lot of shit happened in those days, such as me being informed, by phone-call, that I was eligible to take a H3 subject, which could lessen the pain of my failure. But the damage was done. Sure, my interview was complete crap, embarrassing myself by singing an out-of-tune rendition of two lines from a song by my favorite band Iron Maiden. And embarrassing myself by panicking and freezing up when told to introduce myself.
But I expected to at least make the cut, given that I had much better conduct and grades than most of the other applicants. But apparently I wasn't good enough. Silly of me to think otherwise.
And so it begun, the downfall.
So I tried to look on the bright side, that Since I didn't have to go for J1 Orientation, I could free up time to practice my sport, and to study, to ensure that I can finally get into the competition team for Nationals in my senior year. But no. My mental state was ruined. On the Friday of J1 Orientation week, I cried while eating lunch, after seeing the happy faces of all the OGLs having fun, and their hyped up feelings, and mourning all the fun I was missing. And so I bought a twelve pack of tissues to wipe my tears. (It cost 90 cents.) Little did I know, this would presage my entire year.
So during the week I consistently went for CCA sessions to practice my sport. And I made some minute improvements. But alas my anxiety got the better of me. Whenever those OGLs come into the training room in their pockets of time, I tensed up and my form went to shit. And I was much too panicky and my feelings of inferiority and sadness from seeing all those people whom I wish I were in the position of. Well, there was this girl from my class who made matters worse, lets call her JL. JL was a quick learner, and despite having about 6 months less experience then me in the sport, she was improving rapidly. And she saw us as friends, I guess, and she had something of an overly loud mouth. And she would complain about how J1 Orientation was taking up precious training time, while bemoaning that I was "so much better" than her at the sport.
I was not. I was a panicked mess and an inconsistent player. Whereas she had the riches to arrange some extra practice sessions outside of school practice time, and had the luxury of chaperone parents to arrange transport for her and her equipment to the extra practices. I did not. And yeah I shouldn't use that as an excuse for my lack of improvements. But I can't help feeling inferior next to her and it certainly affected the effectiveness of trainings in school. I was also probably affected by the change of coaches as a result of crappy school administration. And my skills deteriorated.
And then came time for the Invitationals competition. In Febuary soon after Orientation. I expected myself to have an advantage, what with the missed training sessions the OGLs had during Orientation. The Invitationals, grand as they were, were a mere selection trial, to choose who in our team got to play in the Nationals competition. So there were six of us girls in that category. 4 J2s, two of whom had been OGLs. And 2 J1s, talented geniuses who entered the school through DSA. And they of course, were also involved in Orientation. And, to hell with whatever Challenge Trophies the school would win if the entire team played really well. This was really a competition among us six, to choose the best four, who will get to represent the school in the Nationals. (Of course, there were other categories in the sport/CCA as well.)
And all the expectations I placed on myself, all came around and stabbed me in the back. And through thick armor I thought I had, I bled instead. I saw our previous (fired) coach at the competition venue. I missed him. Then came time for competition. I freaked out. I panicked. I had too high hopes and expectations. I was a sweaty mess. See, being good in sports requires not just brute strength (I had much of that.) but also grit, will power, and a certain calm which I lack. As I played in those tormentous about 50 minutes following a shaky 15 minute warm up, my form broke down, my body began to fail me. I kept losing. At the end of the competition, I ended up in second last place amongst the girls in my category in my school. (And, oh, the irony. The two of us in last place were the non-OGLs who actually had more practice time and more resting time in the few weeks before this competition.)
Next came the second Invitationals. A second trial. A second chance. At that moment, I was not set to have a place in the Nationals competition. And I was scared. I really wanted to play again. To represent the school. But this time, the expectations were too much. The humiliation of losing the previous time was too much. I timed-out to consult the new coach near the start of competition. But, HAH. What help did it have? I was still a shaky mess. Again I failed to place in top four in my school. Except this time I had the glory of last place. And fuck JL, who has continued with her rhetoric that I am a good player, complaining about her lack of skills. She played really well.
After this Invitationals, it was a short one week "holiday", followed by the March Common Tests once school reopened. Or the first major examinations of the year. During that holiday I attended some trainings. And hell, JL for some reason I cannot comprehend, chooses not to attend. Soon I would find out that all the trainings that I had been attending were useless. But at that time, I savoured the moment. To play. For what would have been the last time ever where I got to play. Only I didn't know it then.
March Common Tests. History Exams were on the last day. The afternoon of Friday. The very last exam. And the teacher-in-charge decides to inform me, and other eliminated players, of the fact during Friday's lunch break. Right before my exam. And hell do I want to fuck her ass, because this information sure as hell destroyed my mood for the exam. So the format of the exam was that there was one 40 mark source analysis question, and two essays of 30 marks each. And I only did one of the two essays. Because my hand was moving slowly because I was in a really shitty mood. Actually that would set a precursor for the rest of my History exams in 2018, which were taking a nap before the exam while panicking about the information I cannot remember. And when the teacher returned the scripts, he was flaming me for not completing all three questions. Because I ended up failing that exam. And this was the first time I failed History, so the impact of not being chosen for competition has been really something.
After exams ended, prep for Nationals was in full force. Everyone was training really hard for their competitions. Except I was exempt from a third of those few practices because I was not in the Nationals. And when I was there I was made to be in charge of administrating and recording scores for their practice matches. And it hurt SO MUCH. To see them in the position I wish I were in. I wanted to badly to be the one to play. Even if it would take up even more precious studying time. And that Hell Month training would sap my energy. In the hot, stuffy training room I almost broke down.
And for some time before, during and after Nationals, I couldn't face JL. We were kinda in the same "clique" in class. And so friends would know that JL had competitions and ask why I did not, even though I was in the same CCA. And my wounds would fill with salt, again and again. As I explained how I was a crap player who couldn't make it into Nationals, I felt so inferior to JL.
And also because representing the school for Nationals competition was one of my major goals for JC. The reality that this dream was dashed would frequently hit me. Leaving me in bouts of sadness. And I cried a few times thinking about this failure of mine. And sadness often paralyses me, leaving me unable to move or do anything.
And perhaps my "girlfriend" "breaking up"and not talking to me after I forget to get her a birthday gift amidst all the January nonsense of not getting to be an OGL. (Yao from the Einsamkeit story, if it matters.) This also intensified my sadness.
So throughout the school year I often sat around and started spacing out, followed by crying, as I remembered the pain of not going to Nationals, and the pain of losing a friend who I really loved.
That packet of tissues has since been used up. I cry a lot. Over inconsequential stuff. Or I cry and feel sad for a disproportionately long amount of time over something sad. A classmate, E, Is probably really done with my crying. Such as how I teared up during Chemistry practical exams because the lab tech was trying to tell me how I didn't have to re-wash the equipment cos they were clean, and I started panicking because I didn't understand her minority accent.
And another blow was how JL went back to the court which our team trained at after we graduated from the CCA. And an air-conditioning unit had been installed at that indoor venue. She said it was quite pleasant for the juniors to train there. I wanted to see it. But I couldn't bring myself to go back to that room and relive the torturing memories of my failures. I never saw that nice air conditioners which our batch were so hyped about.
And wow, I as an individual managed to use up a whole twelve pack of tissues by crying, in a year. I must cry a lot.
The German titles in this post and the aforementioned Einsamkeit really dont mean a thing. It is just a remnant of my trying and failing to learn German back in 2015/2016.
And on a brighter note, here's a little meme-thing.
Me: Sees a religious vegetarian, there are many in Singapore.
Me: Is very confused how they decide that it is okay to eat eggs and drink milk but somehow garlic, an important nutrient promoter, is off-limits.
Ok, not funny. Bye.
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