*This is going to be a long rant, so feel free to skip this chapter if you don't like those.*

It's a cautionary tale...

I got the inspiration to write Pretty Poison after my in-real-life friend, @thestorygarden , introduced me to a song called "Breathe" by Lin Manuel Miranda from his less well known but no less stunning musical--In The Heights. The song is sung by Nina, who is known for being the first person in her area to go to college and who 'made her way out', but eventually dropped out. The song is about her struggle with letting others and herself down. To be honest, I have never related to anyone more.

I have always been a perfectionist. Many people throw that term around as if it's a compliment. At first, so did I.

Now I think of it as more of a curse than a blessing.

When I was small, I was known as the rule-abiding good girl who was always awarded stickers for being 'good' in class. Classmates called me "goody two shoes" and "teacher's pet".

When I was in the last few years of elementary school, I started earning other names. I worked exceptionally hard that year as the exam results were taken into consideration for secondary school application. I started getting recognition for 'excelling' in my exams. In the end my hard work paid off, and I came third in my class. Classmates called me "smart" and "clever" and even "genius". I denied those compliments, those labels, told myself that I was not at all what they thought I was. But while I denied the labels, I took other's expectations of me to heart--maybe too well.

I grew more and more ambitious. I studied past midnight for exams, until anything below 80% was a fail to me. My standards kept growing, getting higher just before I could graze the mark. Eventually, all I cared about was scoring an A. Nothing else could beat the feeling of satisfaction of scoring a near-full-mark, and occasionally even perfect score.

On the surface, I was doing everything right. But really, the glamorous perfect student was just a facade, something to drown the helpless girl clambering for her sanity.

Many nights it took me hours to fall asleep, and a few times I almost nodded off at school. I even stopped having breakfast because it made me feel sick before exams. Most of the time I was sleep deprived and stressed, and I often didn't have an appetite. At times I wondered if all of this was worth it, but I would think about how hard it would be to face myself and my teachers and classmates if I didn't get a good grade, and convince myself that it was worth it.

It wasn't. It isn't.

I had become so achievement-oriented that I no longer cared about the content of what I learnt--as long as I memorized all of the keywords and formulas I would come top of the class, and nothing else mattered, right?

I had traded my natural curiosity and thirst for knowledge for the satisfaction of acing a test. But anyone with common sense knows that learning is futile if you don't even have the slightest interest in the material. Logically, I knew that it was unhealthy and that it had to stop, but the other part of me told myself that this was right, this was the only way to succeed, until it had become a routine to keep myself from 'going astray'. Others' expectations of me gradually evolved into my own. It was addicting, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to let go.

By the end of the year I had become so drained and exhausted that when I walked up the stage to receive my class award, I didn't feel...anything.

This was when I made a conscious decision to put a stop to this madness. It was hard to accept the fact that I was not in a healthy state of mind and there was no point in getting A's if I didn't care about the material beyond exams, but in the end I made myself another promise--this time to get decent grades without sacrificing my health, and to totally forget about getting awards.

A year has passed. There were times when I relapsed (especially when my grades seemed to be dropping), but generally I feel clearer about what I really want. Sometimes I still find myself worrying too much about what others might think of me, but change takes time, and knowing what is wrong is winning half the battle.

I have always wanted to put these thoughts into words, but never had the courage to. I'm sorry if this was boring, but to those who took the time to read it to the end, thank you. It means a lot to me that someone would listen to my rants. Writing this author's note and Pretty Poison was as much to help myself battle my own demons and insecurities as it is to share my thoughts with you.

Again, sorry for the ramble, thanks for reading, and I promise the next chapter will be back to something more normal.

Peace out.