Weird

Update 2015 November 28

I typed out a long post explaining in detail everything that happened between last and this updates, but then I pressed a wrong button and it all got deleted. And I’m lazy, so I’m not going to type it all out again.

The long and short of it is, I am in inpatient in the Institute of Mental Health in Singapore (for Torontonians, the Singapore equivalent of CAMH). I have insurance that covers everything so I’m in a private ward, which is much nicer than the ward I was in when I was in Toronto. Which is nice, because I’m likely to be here for at least a month while my meds get a complete overhaul.
In the process I’m likely to get psychotic again for a while, which I’m not really looking forwards to because it’s not fun. But I guess it’s necessary, and I kind of wanted it, since other things weren’t working. I respond VERY fast to medication, in terms of side effects, therapeutic effects, and crap-I’m-off-it-time-to-get-psychotic effects.
I do like my new doctor though, and he knows what he’s doing (I think). And I’m on home ground (at least administratively). And most of my family is here. And I have a few friends here. So I’m in safe hands. Even if I do miss my friends in Toronto.

The technology here, even in the private sector, is more advanced than the hospital I was in during my time in Toronto. Everything is recorded electronically. My wristband has a QR code that the nurses scan when they give me my medications. In Toronto, everything was still on paper. The comparison is weird, because Canada is supposed to be part of the Global North and Singapore the Global South.

I get to use my phone here, too. And wear my own clothes. And use technology with long wires. Which is strange, because electonics were banned from my ward in Toronto. But it’s handy I guess, because at least I can keep my friends updated. And maybe even my webcomic (though I don’t have a proper scanner, or a photoeditor on my phone).

We’ll see how the next few weeks unfolds. Salutations

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On my Passport Country

(Not abbreviated to ‘PC’ because there are too many things already abbreviated to ‘PC’.)

Yesterday I went to the church that I used to go to as a child, when I still lived in Singapore. Somebody in my cohort celebrated his 18th birthday; his friends made a collage of his pictures. It was so strange to see photographs of them through the years, growing up together.

It is so strange to think that, were there a parallel universe where I had not moved away, I might be in these pictures. So strange to think that, had my family chosen to stay, I would know these people. Strange to see relationships that I could have had. Positions that I might have held. People I would have known and held precious. Strange to see a place that I might have called home.

As it is– where is home? Home is a place I will not return to in the near future. Home is Shanghai, home is New York City, home will be Toronto. Home is found in people. Just as life is about relationships, so is home.
Home is in heaven– Jesus said when He left that He is preparing a house for us, with many rooms. A place to finally call my own, for forever. My body is a tent; there, I will stay in a proper house! I am a sojourner on earth. My accent proves it.

Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? It is, most of the time. It can be kind of a pain in the neck sometimes, but I would not trade my life for theirs. I could not. I have seen too much already.

They have so much talent– were they given the same opportunities as me, many of them would likely have gone further and higher. I used to feel guilty about this. But these are just our lots, I suppose. More has been given to me; I can only steward it as best as I can.

Singapore is small; I have nowhere to run. Unless I adopt another country’s citizenship, I will always have to return here, to this church, these people, this place. This government. This too is my lot.

It’s not bad.
It’s just different.

Different is pretty dang cool.

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