| name | value |
| location | Melbourne |
| date | 2025-08-31 |
| dateFormat | dd-mmm-yyyy |
| slug | 2025August |
八月二日
Woke up with mind occupied by thoughts of him and flashbacks of things said and done between us. Shook them off quickly and easily, knowing what exactly I was missing and grieving for. It’s everything but him. I don’t want him and now I can say I don’t even want us back anymore. I just miss the version of myself who was hopeful and loving. I grieve for the future I envisioned which could only be a fantasy.
Sitting in the cinema. The protagonist was basically threatening to kill herself. I got distracted by the outpouring suicidal thoughts. Perhaps I should hang myself on a tree. In that sense, learning lead climbing is convenient—having a sturdy rope and reliable knotting skills would definitely open up more options. Reading Yiyun Li‘s new books made me have a flashing thought of jumping off a train station, but I suppose that’s quite unfair for other people. Just like I didn’t jump off from my parents‘ apartment, I don’t really want to mess up other people’s lives. Another reason to try to be more minimalist. I need to get rid of my trash before I leave. Well, at least I should try.
八月三日
一次又一次意識到，不是因為抑鬱所以想死，而是因為不想活但對這個世界有還有些許眷念和殘存一些連結，所以抑鬱。
L is a performative, manipulative liar.
Now I’m curious, what would my own alphabetical diary look like?
Every failed relationship fuels me with writing power. I write a lot more when my depression is triggered by emotional havoc.
I regret everything I’ve shown him that might help him perform better next time.
I need to get my zine back.
—this is how I know I really have absolutely no love left for him. Negative amount even. I no longer want the best for him, and I despise the idea of him having gained anything meaningful from me and our relationship.
Met a person whose name is Rosie who often goes by Rose. Rose spoke about the existential crisis invoked by thinking too much about having both names called equally often by other people and about explaining everything about these two names.
„You actually have the perfect name to quote Shakespeare“, I said. „What is in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name will smell as sweet.“
八月四日
JULIET > O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon, > That monthly changes in her circled orb, > Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Was this the first sign, because I felt love for him for the first time under the ever-changing moon?
攀岩回家的路上看到，梅樹在開花。
八月五日
When things were good, L kept asking me where I saw myself in ten years. Every time, I was dumbfounded and unable to answer but squeezed out a simple „I don’t know“. Truth is I don’t see myself in ten years.
Lately as my depression keeps pressing, I even struggle to see myself past next year. I hold myself accountable for professional responsibilities. I will finish the projects I have with Supervisors; I will fulfil my TA obligations. I should also clean up my trash and give my flatmate some sort of heads up.
The despair I feel everyday.
Last week I said to my therapist that I no longer had suicidal thoughts. That was wrong (not a lie, only wrong). I did get out of the depression triggered by the emotional ruins L left me in, only a tip of the iceberg. Now the deep, dark underwater part of it, has nothing to be covered by.
I ask myself, if L hadn’t appeared in my life, would I have longer before my depression caught up and overtook everything I tried to make work? Maybe, maybe not. I thought L was the universe telling me to try again, but it now seems like it’s the universe telling me to finally go. The wishful thinking, fake peace, false hope, all things I pretend to care enough to live for. I do not know how to live for anything.
Yes, I notice the season change and I watch flowers bloom leaves shed and sprout, but I can’t live for them.
Stepped out of the tram, habitually I paused and looked for cars. A white car was there, and it drove on. I froze and watched it driving pass, feeling anger, for the driver’s stupidity and disrespect for pedestrian safety.
The tram driver asked me if I was okay, I said yes and thanked him. Then I realised that I wish I wasn’t, I actually wished I had stepped out without looking, I wish an accident was in place.
I always hated the idea of dying in traffic, for it is simply too banal. I guess this is how desperate I am, that I even don’t mind getting hit by a car, so long it serves the purpose of killing me.
To the question I ask myself, maybe, perhaps indeed, if L didn’t appear in my life, I could live with the illusion that I was fine for a bit longer. For the essence of how I treated our relationship was me wanting to make it a thing to live for. That’s too much weight on it; no human connection could bear that much weight; it was bound to collapse and I was doomed to fall deeply, deeply down to the abyss. Now I am in the abyss. No attempt would succeed in faking everything is fine.
It’s not news, that nothing exists for me to live for. All the projects, responsibilities, connections, relationships, are merely strategies to stall. To live one more day, one more month, one more year, to read one more book, to see one more play, to watch one more full moon, to chant at one more protest, to have one more meal with the person I love. That’s how people live isn’t it? Moment by moment, small triumphs. I see it, I can see it, that’s practically how I survived my twenties. But can I survive another decade? It’s getting harder I feel. I can’t even seem to envision another five years of living.
八月六日
L is dead.
That’s how I perceive it. That’s where the pain and suffering came from.
L who I loved has died.
I realised that this is not the first time I have to take a subjective perception for reality in order to process the reality.
In my writing my childhood best friend, my first crush, my first lover, has also died. I converse with her in that writing, the same way people converse with their significant dead others.
This is my reality. I’m very certain that I myself have also died in many others‘ reality. Or simply, I ceased to exist.
Heiko was questioning a set builder, he was writing to explain why he thought the things I wrote didn’t make sense. I listened, quietly. He eventually realised that mathematically nothing was wrong, but the way I defined the notation, was a bit cursed.
He exclaimed: oh Eileeeeen! With the second vowel dragged on a little bit, the kind of way you call someone‘s name because you care truly but also you despise their decision and you want them to make things right. Because you want the best for them.
Since deciding to do honours, maths has been the thing I lived for. Since working for and with Heiko, he has the person I lived for—I can’t bring myself to disappoint him in this way.
八月七日
L is dead.
But his ghost is still haunting me.
A came home and told me that she saw L climbing at the other bouldering gym, which I already guessed. Hearing it as a fact hits different though. There are a lot of things unanswered that I have to only rely on my logic and intuition to deduce an answer, it’s not always possible to have them confirmed, and my natural tendency is to challenge my intuition when there’s no factual evidence. But here we go, this one fact, confirmed one of them. Extrapolating, almost everything is also confirmed.
Even though I challenge my own intuition, it is more reliable than getting any other word from L. He’s lied multiple times to me already; I cannot trust him.
L is a performative, manipulative liar.
L is also a coward.
L is the universe reminding me to stop pretending that I am fine, and either I find something to live for, for longer, or it’s really time.
八月八日
I noticed his lies even in the beginning. Small white lies back then that I decided to let slip.
Eventually they accumulated to something I no longer could tolerate.
Two main reasons lying people irks me: for one, it is an insult on my intellect—how dumb you must have thought I am to think you can lie to me without me finding out? secondly, it is just demoralising to point out the lies. The utter awkwardness. It is wrong, universally acknowledged, it is wrong, what else can I say? A suggested that it is perhaps more productive to follow up with the question as for why. Why would you lie to me? To that I told her but I usually know the answer, as most of the time is that the person want to preserve their self-image, and/or maintain some false peace. A then pointed out that it is not for me to have an answer, but to throw the question to the liar.
I suppose I never did have that faith in L to think throwing that question to him would help anything. He doesn’t seem like someone who could handle this–a liar lies because they already have self-esteem issues to be covered up by a lie, pointing out they’ve done something wrong, universally acknowledged wrong, would only pose more threat to their self-esteem. They would feel shame, an unproductive emotion (as opposed to feeling guilty). I knew this, yet I still tried to hold on to him. In retrospect, it really is my fault. I shouldn’t have tolerate something I know I can’t tolerate.
The universe really is teaching me that I shouldn’t pretend everything is fine, or everything can be fine.
You can only give someone or something that many “second” chances.
Am I going to give life another chance?
I feel infuriated again. The fact that L kept lying to me, was such an insult. I’m not going to quietly suffer from this. Last time I had no option but to wait for the anger to subside, this time I shall do something.
Yet again, anger is the only emotion that actually mobilises me.
八月十日
On my mind are mostly suicidal thoughts. In addition to lip balm and tissues, I should also make sure every bag has a notebook and a pen. If I don’t write them down, these thoughts just keep growing and get louder and louder.
八月十一日
As I was walking out of the apartment, an email came from the academic forum I only recently subscribed to. It’s a job posting for a five-year position at a prestigious university. My intuition was to ignore it, trying not to feel excited nor ambitious; I went on with my evening plan. My watch buzzed again as I got to the tram stop, this time from Heiko, same email forwarded with his additional line: the professor is a very nice person.
I could not tell him that I lost motivation and have very little interest in planning my future, because all I can think of these days is how to end my life in a relatively quick and painless life.
Nonetheless Heiko is the last person I want to disappoint in this world, so I replied with my usual lightness and gratitude, telling him I’ll definitely reach out. Another message came in from him: and you like Berlin :)
Indeed I do, I replied. Only after I hit the paperplane button I saw another message from him, telling me to feel free to mention his name if I do reach out. I do not know how to let him know how much gratitude I have for him without freaking him out.
Five years, another five years of living, that is, if I somehow do get the job. I struggle to even motivate myself to live beyond the next five days, vaguely telling myself to be responsible and live for another five months. But five years, that is a very long time.
八月十三日
Against my routine, I went out of my way to get a physical copy of The Myth of Sisyphus, just to feel it in my chest pocket, tangibly close to my heart, hoping it will offer me some strength like it did seven years ago.
Yiyun Li is absolutely right about reading and writing providing refuge for suffering souls; however transient it is, it’s still a refuge.
At climbing, I was speculating on a route. I don’t know what look I had on my face when I decided on a solution and vaguely looked at my surroundings, but others must have caught it and we all started laughing. "Do what your brain tells you to do", says Norm. "I am not sure if my body likes what my brain wants to do." At that moment I was reminded of the sentences I read earlier today.
In a man’s attachment to life there is something stronger than all the ills in the world. The body’s judgment is as good as the mind’s and the body shrinks from annihilation. We get into the habit of living before acquiring the habit of thinking. In that race which daily hastens us toward death, the body maintains its irreparable lead.
Every spare moment my mind wanders to terrain of suicide. Yet I’m still alive.
I finally found the last puzzle piece.
Knowing someone is severely depressed and suicidal, it is not okay to break their equilibrium, to tell them to have faith and hope, that their life is worth living, and then act as if their existence means nothing.
That’s what L did to me. It’s utterly unfair; makes me feel nauseous. It’s no wonder that I got so triggered and affected.
At least now I have a full answer to all the whys.
八月十四日
When I look up I see you across the street, waving at me. I put my phone away, eagerly waiting for you to walk this ten meters, so I will greet you, hug you, tell you I’ve got us banh mi but didn’t get tissues because I was rushing to catch the tram.
The traffic light is unkindly long. Perhaps it’s not long at all but I am impatient.
I smile too much my face actually hurts a bit.
For nearly three months I have not felt anything close to joy, but today I could confidently say that my heart is filled with joy and excitement, because I am going to see you. Then I reminisce on the most recent time I felt this kind of connection: I can’t say for sure but I also can’t think of another moment other than when we were studying p-adic numbers together and writing on the whiteboard.
Two hours and eight minutes later, I reached for my glass, relieved to find the beer still cool, even though never had warm beer ever bothered me.
I asked you if you were sure this was my beer because it tasted differently somehow. You patiently explained how exactly it got into my cupholder and if it did taste different, it was no part you played. I laughed, a bit embarrassed for being fixated on this.
I asked you if you’ve been to Brussels before, because i wanted to say that the train stations looked exactly how i remember them, even though it would have been over forty years after the film was shot.
Sometimes, something does stay frozen in time.
What I really wanted to ask was, if you would like to move to Berlin with me.
I would also like to ask, if you also feel this loneliness sometimes.
You wrote that you’ve missed me too and reciprocated the appreciation for our friendship. I didn’t say more to that but I also found it sweet. I don’t know if you ever got to see the sticky note I left on the last page of the book I gave you, which says I’d like us to be friends like this for as long as possible.
You asked me if I’ve thought about living in other cities. I said I’m not sure, not even about living.
For however long I put up with living, I cherish our friendship.
八月十六日
I cannot tell whether I am having a maniac episode or just high on reading Camus.
The conversation with A kept me very stimulated. I am thankful that she’s in my life and willing to talk and listen to me.
Me: I used to think people lying to me is an insult to my intellect—how dumb do they think I am that their porous lies could go unnoticed?
Me: Now I just think, isn’t the act itself just dumb, to lie like that, because surely those lies would be seen through pretty easily? Okay, respect for con artists but no, not these porous lies.
A: Eileen you have to know that most people are dumb. That’s why even these porous lies do stay uncovered sometimes.
Me: Really? You really think so? Even when I don’t point them out it’s not like I couldn’t tell; I choose to let it slip is all. Surely people are not that dumb.
A: Eileeeeen, the dumbest person is running the most powerful country, and people chose him wilfully.
Me: Okay, I get your point.
八月二十日
GP was glad with the positive displays in my manners and mental clarity. He appraised my insights. I told him this is exactly what I am worried about, because I think I see things very clearly, which means I have confidence in my decision making, and have the strength to execute plans, whatever they are.
The plans are self-destructive.
Walking my way back from the appointment I saw it more clearly now—I can’t be helped. Nothing can help me at this moment. My mind is clear, I’m not confused. The problem of lacking motivation to live can be only solved by finding motivation, and I see none. The clearmindedness makes the search difficult because if there had been any, it wouldn’t have been overlooked. I have looked, looked really hard, and found none.
GP: should I be concerned about prescribing medicines for you that you overdose on?
I laughed. That is a valid point, and I did think about it, as one of my plans. Only, my quick research tells me that typical antidepressants I can get won’t quite kill me.
八月二十一日
I've always been lamenting how there's endless moving but never a place to call home.
That's one of the major struggles throughout my entire life, starting from my early years. We had to move out of our first apartment because the building was ruined by the flood. I wasn’t three yet then. Later because my parents moving jobs, I went to three primary schools across three different cities. Moved apartments again when I went to secondary school. Went to two different secondary schools. The entrance exams, the bullying, the teachers‘ pressure. All muddled and I wasn’t happy.
A week before I turned 18 I arrived in Australia, not yet knew I’d move countries a couple of times.
This morning I finally got that email, inviting me to apply for permanent residency in Australia.
I no longer need to pretend to be a vector that could be placed anywhere in any space just to not feel displaced.
Virginia Woolf mustn't have realised that to many people the difficulty is to root when she wrote "but I flow".
八月二十二日
I was setting some goals to stall. To convince myself to live a little longer.
Then I realised that I must die before Haribo.
八月二十三日
昨晚到今天感覺躁期。
Every time, every single time, the thoughts of seeing J brings me excitement. Just how much I look forward to seeing him!
In the film Dreams I saw today, the question why we photograph or write about our experiences at all was asked. To that I have a certain answer, exactly like the protagonist would say, that is to keep our memory, to have something to hold on to, that doesn’t get mutated in our mind.
Sitting in the dark cinema I was already scripting the review I wanted to write, but then second by second everything I wanted to say got said in the film itself. I no longer have anything to add.
Then for it reminded me of Kairos, I felt the need to buy other books of Jenny Erpenbeck, and so I did.
The purchase and the subsequent possession of new books, bring so much joy that nothing quite really compares. It really doesn’t get old.
Then I realised, I never felt anything even remotely close to that excitement or joy, during the months I was seeing L.
八月二十五日
A new leaf is unfurling.
All my parents care about is money. If my death could punish anyone, then with that intention the only people I want to punish with my suicide would be the people who brought me into this world. L, too, perhaps, for depriving me of my equilibrium.
八月二十六日
Marking students‘ assignments, I wrote, „could make life easier if you do this…“, then amused myself. As if life were that easy to deal with, that making a calculation less tedious could reduce the pain of living.
Eyes were burning.
I try to hold on to small tangible things, setting futures for myself. Perhaps I will trick myself into living. Eventually this will pass and I will look back from the other side.
But that all seems too far. I feel the strings losing its tension day by day.
八月二十八日
After a whole year, J came to climb with me again. I suggested ice cream at my favourite place. He took some time deciding the flavours, telling me the first time he was here he was brought by a friend, Lewis, who is now in Berlin. Oh, they need to have a Fluffy Torpedo in Berlin, I cheerfully replied. Well, there is one, obviously not the same but pretty much the same wacky concept, wacky flavours and such. J defended.
Then we sat down in the shop, talked about films as we always do.
Surrogacy came up at one point, and I had to voice out my stance.
Will you never see/watch something if the creator/artist is problematic? J asked me.
Then we had another exchange of opinions on this topic.
Towards the end I brought up Camus again, and mentioned my crisis. I theorised to him that people who think too much are only thinking this much because they have to overcome their feelings. Well, a significant subset of these people, perhaps, but not all overthinkers are overfeelers, J politely disagreed with me.
It was a good evening. Even though he had to rush to the tram and we didn’t properly say goodbye.