“I’m exhausted. I need a break.”
Having completed the formalities for my leave of absence, I dragged my weary body out of the school’s administration building, officially beginning my nine-month hiatus from university. Just two weeks prior, I had been out enjoying an all-you-can-eat barbecue with my flatmates, carefree and content. I could never have imagined that my mental health would deteriorate so rapidly. From the first onset of indescribable pain, to being prescribed medication at the hospital, and then deciding to suspend my studies, the whole process took just two weeks. And yet, two days before completing the paperwork, I had stocked up on enough daily necessities to last me an entire year. Now, as I packed everything to move back home, I couldn’t help but curse how heavy it all was.
The day I cleared out my room, the sky poured with rain. As I entered my dorm, the router lights were still blinking on my desk, an unfinished can of cola sat nearby, and the ketchup from a takeaway meal was still messily spilt on the surface, as usual. “I won’t be back for a long time…” Indeed, this desk might never look the same again.
Together with a flatmate who had also taken leave, we split the remaining box of cola, dismantled a newly purchased ergonomic chair, packed up miscellaneous items into boxes, and loaded everything into the car in the pouring rain. Watching my bed gradually empty, for a fleeting moment, I considered abandoning the leave of absence and returning to normality. Before leaving, I stood staring at my now-bare bed, lost in thought, barely noticing my flatmate patting my shoulder. After saying goodbye to someone I had lived with for over three years, returning borrowed library books, and handing in my dorm keys, I finally set off for home.
Even so, occasional meet-ups are still a must
Even while on leave, our tradition of gathering for meals as a group couldn’t be abandoned. Once my body began adjusting to the appetite-suppressing side effects of the medication, I rarely turned down dinner invitations. Going out for food and drinks, sharing updates about our lives, exchanging information, and splitting the bill—it’s a simple yet delightful experience. The only downside is that, considering my past issues with alcohol abuse, my doctor specifically advised me to quit drinking. So now, when we go out, I usually just sip on some watermelon juice as a token gesture.
Bed by 11, up by 8
Although quetiapine’s efficacy is limited, it did manage to turn my 5 a.m. bedtime and 9 a.m. wake-up routine into a more reasonable 11 p.m. to 8 a.m. schedule, at least for the first month. I also started going to the gym. Weightlifting is a fascinating activity—eating loads of carbs and protein while gradually stacking weights. Within two months, I’d gained 10 kilograms, 9 of which were muscle and just 1 was fat. It was beginner gains at its finest.
Overtraining, however, especially on leg days, left me so wired that it disrupted my sleep. I had no choice but to scale back my workouts. Given my situation, prioritising sleep for mental health was the most sensible choice.
Travel, near or far
Travel remains an essential part of life. My trips to Hong Kong in September and Guilin in October were among the few longer journeys I took this year, but I also enjoyed numerous local outings, such as a visit to the Seven Immortals Temple in Luxi Village. Whether near or far, travelling is still travelling. As the saying goes, “Read a thousand books, travel ten thousand miles.” The satisfaction and sense of connection that comes from applying knowledge gained from books to real-world experiences are some of the best reminders of one’s existence and place in the world.
No free lunches, but there might be falling cats
The sky might not rain free lunches, but it might just rain a ginger kitten. On my way to the gym one day, I was drawn to a meowing sound coming from a fire escape. Upon investigation, I stumbled upon this little cat.
It’s been nearly six months since I adopted her, and she’s brought me plenty of joy—along with a fair number of scratches and one shredded leather sofa. Animals simply can’t understand humans, and there were countless times I wanted to throw her out. Yet, I always let her stay in the end. That’s how it is with cats. They might drive you mad at times, tempting you to abandon them, but the irreplaceable emotional bond they offer compels you to keep them around.
Plants are essential for modern living
Plants are not only aesthetically pleasing but also help purify the air by absorbing formaldehyde and trapping dust. Most importantly, they bring a touch of nature into indoor spaces, which is beneficial for mental and physical well-being. In my opinion, greenery is a must-have for modern living.
My desk underwent significant changes this year. Beyond upgrading my setup with a new monitor and screen bar, I also introduced some plants. I chose snake plants for their low maintenance and ability to thrive in low-light conditions. With the right amount of fertiliser, my two snake plants even sprouted new shoots. Succulents are even easier to care for, requiring minimal watering. The only exception is a plant called “string of coins,” which has been a mystery to me—too much water and it struggles, too little and it withers, and fertiliser seems to do nothing. Clearly, I have much more to learn about gardening.
My online presence
I’ve never “managed” my blog for traffic; I simply write what’s on my mind. As a result, my readership is fairly modest. Thanks to search engines, though, it’s not entirely deserted. This year, I also started a livestream channel, which primarily serves as a repository for my gaming recordings. Unsurprisingly, there isn’t much of an audience—it’s hard to imagine many people would want to watch an obscure streamer play mundane games.
In osu!, I climbed from 300pp to 3439pp this year. Having recently switched to a tablet, I’m still getting used to it, so my progress has temporarily plateaued.
The desire to live
For a long while, I’ve gradually lost interest in everything in life. One manifestation of this was a complete lack of desire—wanting nothing, buying nothing. I wouldn’t buy new clothes unless they were worn out, wouldn’t get a haircut unless my fringe was blocking my vision, and had no interest in new products. Until recently, even my libido seemed to be fading. Desire is truly a curious thing—it can’t be too strong, but it can’t be too weak either. A person without desire can’t truly live. Even if the human instinct to survive acts as a safety net, preventing an early demise, life becomes meaningless—a fate worse than death.
A lack of desire leaves you uninterested in everything, aimless and adrift, which only deepens the pain. Having a healthy amount of desire gives you something to strive for, creating a positive cycle of effort and fulfilment.
When properly channelled, desire can drive progress. “Don’t believe that pressure can be turned into motivation; pressure only turns into medical records. True motivation comes from the pursuit of joy and passion.” Indeed, in my current state, the pressure has been lifted. But that pressure has already manifested in my medical records. Deep down, I no longer seek joy or passion. This feeling has only grown over the years—whatever I do, I’m met with a deep, unrelenting exhaustion. While my body remains healthy, my soul is battered and bruised, weak beyond repair.
I’m truly afraid that my desires are fading even faster than before. I’ve long since lost the fiery spirit my peers possess, lost the yearning for love, and lost the drive to pursue a better life that others my age hold dear…
As 2024 draws to a close, it’s clear that this year was a pivotal one—both in my university life and my journey as a whole. This was the year I began to rediscover my desire for life and my confidence in the future. Everything I’ve tried this year has been an effort to “reignite the desire to live.” After all, who doesn’t want to “do what they love and love what they do”? The depletion of desire and motivation can’t simply be willed away. When both “what you love” and “what you want” are missing, how many people can truly offer a meaningful solution?