I woke up in the handicap toilet after a two-hour nap. That was the moment I knew something was off.
What I didn’t know was that the confusion would last for an entire year. What is happening to me? How do I heal? Should I accept this new, tired version of myself? When do I do that?
It was a year-long slog with questions that had no easy answers.
With each failed therapy and treatment, hope became smaller. It was not as if I wanted to end my life. But neither did I have any kindness or wisdom to offer yet I desperately wanted to be that person, that person I was before.
Making choices became like trying to distinguish shades of gray. Which coffee shop? Which friend? Which doctor?
Now looking back, I see right turns, wrong turns, and unexpected detours. I see the faces of people who cared and showed up. I see what I would do differently and the lessons I’m still learning.
Rest, work and finance
My first right move was to plan for rest.
I adjusted my expectations of earning, saving and ready to use the emergency fund. However, I quickly found that wasn’t enough. My first expense was a $1,500 monthly coaching commitment for 6 months so there went my entire budget for the month. (note: budget more).
Next, I scaled down on work and only took on easy projects and easy clients which helped fund more therapy and healing.
I also reluctantly let go of my volunteering, coaching, writing and podcasting. These are things that once made me feel alive. But I struggle to keep up with the standard I’m happy with.
Some days I slept for 15-16 hours and did the bare minimum to exist. I’m grateful that sleep came easily, but I worried if I may be sleeping too much, that if it’s causing more harm than good.
My parents gave well-meaning advice to eat more meat, drink chicken tonic and “get out more”. But somehow, their good intentions became a burden as I found myself staying out to avoid their worried look.
I went out, but that became complicated.
Cafes, once restful, felt like a place of guilt. The seat I occupied seemed like it could be given to another. In my mind, I know rent is high and I don’t want my favorite cafes to close on me. I tried going to a co-working space, which helped, until I found myself taking 2-hour naps in the handicap toilet, pretending to be okay as I stayed out.
Free time and the mind
is not a good combination.
I know I need to rest, but my mind is running in multiple directions – brainstorming of new therapies, coming up with new diagnoses, worrying about resting too much, researching on Youtube videos and reading books, and wondering if I’m being too privileged, or ungrateful, or wasting my precious life away.
Journaling daily was incredibly helpful. It cleared my mind and gave me space to look at each thought with structure and care. Instead of, lying awake eyes wide open with a running list of thoughts, getting no rest and no answers. Often, I arrived that the best thing for that day was to sleep, tidy up and leave it for tomorrow.
Another helpful rule was ONE a day. If I completed one thing(a doctor’s visit, research for an hour, or volunteering), I’ve earned my rest. One thing is enough. More is a bonus.
To fill my time and be outside. I met up with friends, went for Qigong lessons, meditation circles, somatic massage, swims, sound baths, walks in parks and cemeteries, Kriya yoga and volunteered with food delivery.
Looking back, some restful activities turned out to be draining, and I could have labeled them as work, as ONE thing. I also took a few courses and workshops – Steve March’s workshop, Art of Living program, Dr K’s guide and the Art of Accomplishment. They made me feel productive, though, I don’t think I retained much.
A worthy exercise was the enjoyment experiment from Joe Hudson. It prioritises enjoyment for 5 days above everything else. This helped resolve my fear of endless resting and gave me an explanation of why I’m in the house to my parents.
Nature and traveling
Singapore was too hot for me, so I traveled to Japan to be with my friend Novi. She and her partner were generous to offer their houses in Nagano and Chiba to me. But strangely, it didn’t feel restful. I suspect the winter weather, language barriers and no easy transport played a part. Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I didn’t take their offer and went to a city hostel. That still felt sterile and lonely.
Thinking it might be the weather, I returned to Japan in Spring, and the experience was similar. I was shocked to find myself sleeping in the hotel room for the entire first day. I concluded that nature and travel weren’t it, and stopped trying.
However, once my energy recovered (from the right treatment), I could enjoy travel again. I attended a 10-day silent meditation retreat and that was truly nurturing and profound. My theory is traveling requires a lot of decision-making, and I needed a baseline amount of energy, before I could apprecaite it.
An aside on Vipassana meditation, I found it useful for being away from my usual environment, social and relationship dynamics. An unplug. It was deeply centering and helped me to know my true preference. A set schedule, accommodation and food are taken care of, I focus entirely on rest. And being pay-by-donation makes it easy for any financial situation. I think retreat, generally, is helpful in that way, but Vipassana is pay-by-donation and 10 days is a serious reset. If you’re considering this, I recommend the center at Sydney’s Blue Mountain and listen to this interview with Dr Willoughby Britton about meditation’s hidden risks.
I learned that my ideal rest place would have these elements – small towns, easy access to nature, close friends enjoying being together, a car, English speaking, 10-25 Celsius, and cheap enough accommodation. My current favourite spots are Blackheath, Hualien and Chiang Mai.
Most importantly, choose what feels most comfortable, nurturing, and financially feasible. Whether it’s the beach or the mountain, winter or spring, Airbnb or a Campervan.
Navigating Friends and Friendship
Many friends, with good intentions, reached out. They listened and some tried to problem-solve by brainstorming. I know it comes from a good place, similar to my parents, but it was draining. I find myself repeating my situation and journey, and without the full context, their ideas became tiring rather than helpful.
I was also surprised by the absence of gratitude for my friends, which I would normally have felt. I still offered my appreciation, but it’s a kind of thanks that was done from a ritual and memory, less from the heart. I’m guessing the fatigue causes emotions to be unavailable, or the conversation simply fell flat because of the reason above.
I also found that many friendships were built on mutually enjoyed activities, a celebration of achievement, learning and problem-solving. When those became unavailable, because of my fatigue, conversation felt empty and unsustainable. I never had a terminal diagnosis before, but I imagine that is how it would feel when I’m with my friends, with nothing to talk about. This showed me the importance of a friends who I can just hang out with, where we can enjoy each other’s presence, when there is nothing else. Something I like to work next.
On the rare occasion, there are friends that feel great to be around. They get it, had similar journeys before, they shared their experience and lives, took focus away from me and I didn’t feel a need for me to perform. I can feel a genuine appreciation for being with me, even when I have nothing to offer. I don’t know if this is a skill that can be learned or simply who they are. (Thank you, Ganesh and Corinna. I appreciate you more than you know.)
And, there are friends oversea who express their care, text to check in and took the pressure off to reply “when it feels right”. That was thoughtful. (I appreciate you too, Novi and Oli.)
One friend, Jane, became my “primary care doctor”. She had extensive experience in therapy and medicine and guided me through treatment decisions, helping me navigate which approaches to try, combining them effectively, and when to move on, while balancing my time, effectiveness and finances.
It takes a village and I am indebted to all of you.
Environment, vice and routine
Despite everything, I’m grateful that my physical and mental health remained stable, with some surprising improvement. My pull-ups went from 0 to 7 and I credit the daily morning routine – 5 mins of walking in the sun, 3 mins at the pull-up bar, 20 mins of Happy Body workout, 15 mins of meditation and journaling.
On the flip side, I picked up some terrible habits – eating chips, ice cream and smoking. Probably a needed outlet. Thankfully, Intermittent fasting and the slow-carb diet kept the weight in check and I managed to avoid alcohol and substances. I’ll be working on kicking smoking next.
I also tried to live alone, to experiment if being away from my parents could help, following my own pace and rhythm. It didn’t. After 6 weeks in the rental, I moved back. I was hypersensitive to the new environment and couldn’t rest well. There was a smell that I couldn’t get used to, and spotting rats from the downstairs neighbors didn’t help. I think the environment matters more when I’m fatigued.
Throughout this journey, I wished for a space where friends and I could hang out freely, eat ice cream and be ourselves. It’s difficult living with my parents in an apartment and most friends’ home in Singapore feels like I’m imposing on their hospitality. I hope my future home will be big enough to have spaces to host and gather friends where we can all feel at ease.
The Long Road to Answers
In November, it started with being tired. More tired than usual. I looked into the usual suspects- sleep, diet and exercise, prioritized them. But the tiredness only worsened.
I knew I needed support. I spoke to a few coaches and landed with a coaching duo T&V. They attributed my state to grief as I’ve recently lost of my mentor and my childhood home. The diagnosis made perfect sense. But, the diagnosis was hard to prove wrong (how do I know if its not grief?), which looking back, I could have doubted more.
For the next 5 months, I was on a journey through different healing modalities- somatic therapy, forest bathing, qigong, meditation, more therapists, more coaches. When those didn’t work, I tried more experimental stuffs – gong bath, silence disco dancing, singing bowl session, Feldenkrais, TRE and volunteering. Nothing changed.
My Try Next List grew longer and even more experimental- Ayahuasca ceremonies, Psychedelic-assisted therapies, Vipassana retreat, Internal Family System, Hypnosis, Aroma Therapy, Reiki, Breathwork, Bioresonance, Craniosacral Therapy, MRI, Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation and…
It was then, my friend Jane suggested a functional doctor. We did some test and discovered I had low Vitamin D, high Ferritin, SIBO, and H.Pylori. What felt miraculous was how a week of Vitamin D supplement gave me more energy, than months of alternative healing.
I continued treating the SIBO and H.Pylori, though it’s hard to say if the energy improvements came from those treatments or rest. With newfound energy, I went on a 10-day silent retreat and started traveling that felt great too.
Looking back, I fell for confirmation bias, seeing what I wanted to see. And moving forward, I’m approaching healing differently:
- Get multiple perspectives before committing to any diagnosis with Triangulation
- Use LLM (Claude or Perplexity) to widen the possible diagnosis
- Seek help from trusted friends in review, planning and decision-making
- Prioritize testable diagnosis first over unfalsifiable diagnosis
And I’ve learned:
- Physical health is the foundation for emotional, psychological, intellectual and spiritual health.
- When the foundation is weak, everything else wobbles
- Meditation is helpful, but it can’t fix a vitamin deficiency
- When the body is compromised, so is the intuition. Hence friend.
Healers, coaches and therapists
I worked with nine different healers, coaches and therapists. They were kind, they were skilled and they couldn’t help. They were specialist when I needed a generalist. I needed someone who could know a lot of possible diagnosis, hold their diagnosis lightly and create experiments to rule out diagnoses. Someone who says “maybe this situation could be… and here’s how we can find out. Then rule it out.”
Instead, I got advice like “listen to your body” or chakra alignment. My body just wants chip and ice cream, and a cigarette, probably not a good idea. Each failed healer left me hesitant, chipping away at my trust, in them and in my own ability to choose. And I began to develop a fear of decision itself and went from “ready to heal” to “afraid of healing wrong”.
I wish the healing professional would question more. Doubt more. Say “maybe not me” more. Start with “I might be wrong” instead of “I think I can help.” I wish they see themselves and a mix of possible treatments and help me think who else and what else to try first, instead of putting their hands up.
Then there are healers, that I am beyond grateful for. They hold multiple truths. They test their theories like scientists test gravity. They don’t push, don’t sell, don’t lock me into a contract. They know the limitations of their modalities and tell me upfront. They treat their work as a debt of honor and the moment they sense they’re not the right fit, they’ll be the first to say. They want to get you better quickly so they can help the next person.
They sit together with my uncertainty. They hold my limited energy and budget as part of my healing. They think beyond the sessions and co-create a plan together. They help me grow my own awareness and care more about my healing than their method. They are people who can hold both the science, structure spirituality and intuition. (Thank you Sasha, Rosa and Debbie.)
Lessons Carried Forward
- Physical health is the foundation to emotional, spiritual health.
- Add 2k to my emergency fund.
- Triangulate and find possible dianogsises.
- Gratitude isn’t mandatory. Neither is pretending.
- ONE thing a day is enough for rest
- Seek friends who’ve been there and support your journey.
- Good intentions are not enough.
- Enjoyment is a worthy experiment
- A space where to can simply be
As I write this article, I think of Rong often, my neighbor, he was going through a difficult cancer treatment. We had many conversations in the park – of his girlfriend that left him, wondering if he should spend his money to start an ice cream business in Malaysia. He believes he can operate it when he gets better. Or blow the money to enjoy his last days, YOLO, he doesn’t know if he has many days left. And perhaps there’s no way to know.
I have a different view. I need a better tomorrow, to believe that things will get better even when it feels impossible, and implausible. I need to have hope and the belief of a better future.
I wish I’d kept more of grandma’s belongings when we sold the house. I wish I had more energy to get a storage space and store it. Now all I have left are digital photos of her photos. Perhaps I’ll print and frame them one day. I shall live with that.
Years from now, on LinkedIn, this will look like another year I’m working on my animation business, like nothing happened. And this article would be all that’s left to remember this challenging year.
