End of Year Thoughts

The internet has a way of making people feel inadequate. For many years, I've managed to escape unscathed, but ever since I was plagiarized by a larger artist in 2020, I've been on a slow but downward spiral. I've ignored it for this long, and I don't think I can ignore it anymore.

I have this tendency of hiding behind hatred. My university counsellor says it's because the hatred helps me feel in control, helps give back a sense of power in a situation I feel powerless in. But hatred is only a secondary emotion. I realized that when I had a falling out with a toxic friend who would constantly gaslight me, and despite knowing something was wrong, I stayed. For a long time, I was angry at her, because I hadn't been allowed to be. Sometimes, the self-blame would set in, which only entrenched my hate.

Looking back, I don't think I truly hated her as a person. I was angry at myself, for knowing something was wrong but doing nothing about it. I gave up on my own boundaries, let them be bent beyond recognition, all because I wanted to protect the peace that served her more than it did me. I didn't even realize how much of a problem it was until I saw clips about that one Dutch horror movie.

It was the same with the artist who plagiarized me. I took screenshots of her monitoring my Instagram stories. Even before I realized she was stalking me through alt accounts, I knew something was off. Why did I not come forward? When I confronted her and she denied it despite her non-apologies, why did I accept it and wish her well? Why didn't I stand my ground?

I may be snarky and cynical but I try to believe there is good in everyone, that people are a product of their circumstance. When I read about true crime, I don't think, "Wow, those people are such monsters." I wonder what experiences led to their mental justification of such crimes. Then again, Botak Chin is my historical hear-me-out, so maybe I just think I can fix people.

So like, here's the thing.

I don't trust myself. If I sign my name on any papers, I need to triple-check if I wrote my own name right. I constantly feel like I'm not good at anything I do, despite my efforts to overcome it. I blame myself for everything that has happened. I blame myself for not fighting back. Years after the falling out, years after the stalking and plagiarism, years after the sexual assault, I still blame myself.

Social media doesn't help. It's hard to be a woman of colour on the internet, especially when you are a minority in your country, and a minority within that minority. Perhaps that's why I retreat to smaller spaces like these. Because while, yes, the state of the internet does suck, it's better for me to pretend I'm not being watched or listened to. Just me, the void, and the occasional traveller lost in my part of the universe. Nobody can hurt me if I'm just playing by myself.

But what a lonely existence that is. I tell myself this is better, tell myself I'm not bothered by it, but I think a part of me is crying out to be seen and heard. That's why I put so much of myself into my art and writing. All that pain I went through had to be for something. What was the point of all that suffering if it can't even be useful? What was the point of the trauma if someone who has only read about it can write about it more easily?

Emotional flashbacks

Although I have never seen a real psychologist, I struggle a lot with emotional flashbacks, of feeling like I'm reliving upsetting moments in my life. When I think about situations like these, I feel helpless and scared, paranoid even. When I didn't realize I was being stalked by the plagiarist's alt account, I thought I was going insane. I genuinely thought someone was watching me from my home. Sometimes I relive that feeling, of being alone and defenceless.

But that was the 2020 to 2022 me. I am not alone and defenceless anymore. I have an adult body and people in my life who care about my wellbeing. I always see myself as scared, paranoid and alone Hucco, and not grad student, graduated with first class honours and involved in UNESCO projects Hucco. For Nuwa's sake, even back in 2020, I was doing art for charity zine projects! I've done beach cleanups, volunteered at temples, been selected for research exchange programmes and somehow, somehow I still only see myself as a defenceless victim when I'm more than that.

I remember one of the last exchanges I had with my ex-friend before our falling out was her admitting she was scared I would succeed without her. The people who have hurt me want me trapped, and I held onto that anger because I thought if I forgot about it too, then the hurt would have been for nothing. Especially since they all moved on with their merry little lives.

But I deserve better than to just be their victim. As silly as it sounds, I've been trying to find strength in the more spiritual side of things, pulling tarot cards and cursing my enemies with folk sorcery in hopes of exchanging our fortunes. To make myself clear, cursing people in local folk sorcery isn't wishing harm on them, but passing your own misfortunes onto them and attracting good fortune instead.

I remember a story told by a monk from when I volunteered at the temple. A snake, wanting to be a creature of good, refrained from biting humans, even when the humans trampled on him. Angered, the snake went to the Buddha and told him that despite his efforts to be good, he ended up getting hurt the most. The Buddha, with a twinkle in his eye, told the snake, "My child, though you do not wish to bite, it would not hurt if you showed them your fangs."

This is me showing my fangs.

Posted on 9th December 2025.