The most hateful part of suffering with depression is that it makes you someone you are not. It is like a person knocking on your the door the day after you spent the night together with all the people you love, celebrating you for being just who you are. You opened the door and find it there standing in front of you. It was wearing the same clothes you wore last night, only that it was stained with coffee-like spilt. Its hair was messy and it smelled. It was hungry. And you can feel that its cold. Your instant reaction was to close the door. To pretend it never knocked in the first place. But you know it's too late. You already looked into its eyes. You already realized that those teary eyes staring back at you, is you.
When you grew up suffering from depression every once or twice in a year, you are aware that you are suffering from it. You know that it is not just sadness. It is not just you having a bad day. Yes, at first you will try to fool yourself. You will go to your most trusted friends and try to be happy with them. You will try to talk yourself out of it. "I have family and friends, what more is there to be depress about?" But you will not try to tell them what's bothering you. How could you? How could you tell someone that you're sad because you don't know. That you want to cry right now because there is something wrong deep inside you and you want to cry but you don't know why. You would want to make them understand something you yourself couldn't. And after some days, you will realize that the sadness you feel wouldn't go away the way like "normal sadness" goes away. It didn't work that way. You know it isn't. Depression isn't just you lacking of support system. It is you suddenly not wanting to do anything. You don't want to eat because you're not hungry. Sometimes you are so tired even if you just woke up from twelve hours of sleep. Sometimes you can't fall asleep even if you are awake for two days. You feel so isolated. Your family and friends are reaching up but you couldn't even extend a hand to meet their's. You don't want to explain anymore because you think they haven't been there and they will never know how awful it feels. That's how it is. Depression makes you someone they don't know. It is not loneliness you feel but isolation. As if you are the only person in the world that experiences it. It makes you selfish. It robs you of yourself from yourself. You stop from taking care of yourself. It makes you think that there is nothing worthwhile to do. All the parties, the small talk, the smiles... they don't mean anything. Life, suddenly becomes meaningless.
God only knows how much I try to win over this debilitating illness on my own without the help of medications. I am afraid that if I start taking serotonin inhibitors, I will be dependent on it. That even if I go on very small amounts at first, I will eventually be needing an increase as I suffer until I become resistant. So I tried online therapist, suicide hotlines and support groups. I tried reading self help books and religious counselors. But when you are there at the center of a dark circle surrounded by depression itself, none of this would work. Advises that consists of "You should go out more often" "Happiness is a choice" and "We are here for you, all you have to is tell us what you need" all feel like an insult.
I have to stop here. This is not a self help story and I wouldn't come out with something I did to overcome depression so I don't know what else to say. I just want you to know, you who's reading this, of my experience. That maybe you feel the same way and yes, I am not alone. You are not alone. I know and you know (more than our families and friends know) how terribly we suffer from it. But I believe we will heal. Our bodies will heal. The wounds will form a scar. We will be able to overcome this. Depression doesn't have to define us. We should struggle so that it will never have to be us. And maybe one day, when that teary eyed gloomy person that knocked on your door leaves, maybe it will never return again. And we will be free.
Sunday, June 25, 2017
Sunday, April 9, 2017
MAY YOU GRIEVE WELL
A friend of mine had just lost his beloved mother from respiratory failure a few days ago. It was sudden. Things happen from his mother laughing and with so much life to a person who lies now inside a wooden box. I went to his mother's wake last night together with some collegueas. He was a dear friend. Someone who helped me while struggling during my early months working. He was always there. He was always, always ready to listen to my childish whims. And it broke my heart to see him suffering just as he is now. It broke my heart to listen to him as he tried to make sense of everything that happened in the last few days. His mother was taken in an instant. "Too young," he said. "There is more years ahead of her... why, why does this happen?" It broke my heart to see myself again through him.
But unlike me who faced the same situation, I can say that he was strong. He may not know it now. Many will encourage him to be strong but they don't know that he's already is. He was the source of strength of his father. He was the one who made decisions since the moment his mother was rushed to the hospital. Its ironic how he remembered not knowing what to do during those critical moments. He was a nurse for almost a decade. He witnessed countless codes and deaths. And yet when his mother was the one lying in that hospital bed, her heart slowly giving up, he remembered not being a nurse at all. He became just as a son. He became like one of all our patients' relatives praying hard that the Almighty may allow them more time. In the face of death, all knowledge and reasons became nothing. And he continued to be strong as he made all the funeral arrangements. He couldn't grieve yet. There is much to do. People are coming. They need someone to see them. They need someone who could tell them what happened. And its not time to compliment him, but I really admired him when he recall to us those final days and hours. He had been so strong during her final moments. He, for all its worth, was able to say goodbye.
I didn't.
I never expected that I will.
I remember myself during my sister's final hours. I was there. But it feels like I wasn't there. I remember wishing I am not there. I believe one will never true pain until one witness a loved one dying right before one's very eyes. There are many pain and agony in this world but nothing will ever compare to losing a beloved from sickness. There is so much hurt in witnessing a body battle against something that's killing it from the inside. I remember as my sister was being brought out from the operating room, lifeless and feels like not my sister at all. I wasn't able to say goodbye. And I will never be able to in this lifetime. I'll never be able to escape from that memory as long as Im alive. Unlike my friend, I had not been strong enough. My mourning continues until now.
"It will get worse," I whispered to him as he ushered us outside. The long days and nights will start after they buried the body and all that's left was an empty side of the bed, unwashed clothes, personal belongings everywhere waiting to be pick up by the one who owns it but the one who do was nowhere. Sleep will be the only thing that will momentarily stop all the pain but you will be afraid of sleeping. It is so painful to because you have to close your eyes. For months to come, the only thing that you will see when you close your eyes and the moment you open them was the sight of your beloved on that hospital bed. Of the days she suffered. Her every face will haunt you. Her voice will echoe in your head. You will always hear her calling your name with so much life. Her voice, which sounds like a sweet laughter from a distance, will keep calling you like an itch in the back. And you will find yourself turning around, expecting to find her there--- sitting on the edge of the bed or standing beside the table like she used to, but she wouldn't. It will be her voice you will treasure most. The sound of laughter, of shouts, of the cries and whispers. You will be afraid of the dark. Not anymore because of the darkness itself but because it brings along severe loneliness. You will be very afraid to be left alone. The void. The emptiness. Its as if you can see it coming for you when you're alone. You will want to go somewhere. Anywhere will be fine as long as there is noise and people. And you will find yourself aching to be heard. You will want someone to talk to. Someone who knows exactly what you're going through. You don't want just someone who will listen but someone who knows what it's like to be on your shoes. Someone who will tell you that you're not okay. That nothing will be okay again. It is so painful. Everything about you from now on will be aching. There will be a time when you will wish in every moment of your waking hours for someone who can take the pain away because you cannot bear it any longer. But you will never find anyone who could. The only one who can was gone. Birthdays and holidays will never be the same again. They will no longer remind you of how fortunate you are to be given another life but of how close you are in seeing her again. You will lose all fear of your own death because you will realize that the other side will not be an abyss like you believe it before. There will be someone waiting for you there. And you will live with that hope. You will cling on to that hope like air you needed to stay alive. And then one day, you will wake up and find yourself on the other side of that pain. You will learn to live with it as I did. It will never go away but you will learn to live with it. Time will heal nothing. The wound is too deep to form a scar but you have no choice, either you live with it or you take your own life. I was given no choice but to live until now. And there will come a time when you will do too. Not for your sake alone but for her as well. You will decide at one point that you have a duty to live your life as fully and as long as possible because it is the last thing you can do to honor the life she lived once. You will realize one day (it will take years and years from now because you will suffer first but you will someday) that your life is actually an extension of hers.
I believe, with everything that I am now and with all that I will ever be, that one day, I'll find my own peace with what happened to my sister. That maybe my broken family will be whole again. That maybe after a long life, we will find each other again in a place free of sickness, injustice and death. And that is what I want him to know. "It will be worse but you will live through it."
But unlike me who faced the same situation, I can say that he was strong. He may not know it now. Many will encourage him to be strong but they don't know that he's already is. He was the source of strength of his father. He was the one who made decisions since the moment his mother was rushed to the hospital. Its ironic how he remembered not knowing what to do during those critical moments. He was a nurse for almost a decade. He witnessed countless codes and deaths. And yet when his mother was the one lying in that hospital bed, her heart slowly giving up, he remembered not being a nurse at all. He became just as a son. He became like one of all our patients' relatives praying hard that the Almighty may allow them more time. In the face of death, all knowledge and reasons became nothing. And he continued to be strong as he made all the funeral arrangements. He couldn't grieve yet. There is much to do. People are coming. They need someone to see them. They need someone who could tell them what happened. And its not time to compliment him, but I really admired him when he recall to us those final days and hours. He had been so strong during her final moments. He, for all its worth, was able to say goodbye.
I didn't.
I never expected that I will.
I remember myself during my sister's final hours. I was there. But it feels like I wasn't there. I remember wishing I am not there. I believe one will never true pain until one witness a loved one dying right before one's very eyes. There are many pain and agony in this world but nothing will ever compare to losing a beloved from sickness. There is so much hurt in witnessing a body battle against something that's killing it from the inside. I remember as my sister was being brought out from the operating room, lifeless and feels like not my sister at all. I wasn't able to say goodbye. And I will never be able to in this lifetime. I'll never be able to escape from that memory as long as Im alive. Unlike my friend, I had not been strong enough. My mourning continues until now.
"It will get worse," I whispered to him as he ushered us outside. The long days and nights will start after they buried the body and all that's left was an empty side of the bed, unwashed clothes, personal belongings everywhere waiting to be pick up by the one who owns it but the one who do was nowhere. Sleep will be the only thing that will momentarily stop all the pain but you will be afraid of sleeping. It is so painful to because you have to close your eyes. For months to come, the only thing that you will see when you close your eyes and the moment you open them was the sight of your beloved on that hospital bed. Of the days she suffered. Her every face will haunt you. Her voice will echoe in your head. You will always hear her calling your name with so much life. Her voice, which sounds like a sweet laughter from a distance, will keep calling you like an itch in the back. And you will find yourself turning around, expecting to find her there--- sitting on the edge of the bed or standing beside the table like she used to, but she wouldn't. It will be her voice you will treasure most. The sound of laughter, of shouts, of the cries and whispers. You will be afraid of the dark. Not anymore because of the darkness itself but because it brings along severe loneliness. You will be very afraid to be left alone. The void. The emptiness. Its as if you can see it coming for you when you're alone. You will want to go somewhere. Anywhere will be fine as long as there is noise and people. And you will find yourself aching to be heard. You will want someone to talk to. Someone who knows exactly what you're going through. You don't want just someone who will listen but someone who knows what it's like to be on your shoes. Someone who will tell you that you're not okay. That nothing will be okay again. It is so painful. Everything about you from now on will be aching. There will be a time when you will wish in every moment of your waking hours for someone who can take the pain away because you cannot bear it any longer. But you will never find anyone who could. The only one who can was gone. Birthdays and holidays will never be the same again. They will no longer remind you of how fortunate you are to be given another life but of how close you are in seeing her again. You will lose all fear of your own death because you will realize that the other side will not be an abyss like you believe it before. There will be someone waiting for you there. And you will live with that hope. You will cling on to that hope like air you needed to stay alive. And then one day, you will wake up and find yourself on the other side of that pain. You will learn to live with it as I did. It will never go away but you will learn to live with it. Time will heal nothing. The wound is too deep to form a scar but you have no choice, either you live with it or you take your own life. I was given no choice but to live until now. And there will come a time when you will do too. Not for your sake alone but for her as well. You will decide at one point that you have a duty to live your life as fully and as long as possible because it is the last thing you can do to honor the life she lived once. You will realize one day (it will take years and years from now because you will suffer first but you will someday) that your life is actually an extension of hers.
I believe, with everything that I am now and with all that I will ever be, that one day, I'll find my own peace with what happened to my sister. That maybe my broken family will be whole again. That maybe after a long life, we will find each other again in a place free of sickness, injustice and death. And that is what I want him to know. "It will be worse but you will live through it."
Thursday, April 6, 2017
ADULTING AT ITS FINEST
So this is how it feels to be an adult. This is how it is to be at the stage when your parents doubt the way you are living your life and wonders if they have done enough so that you can actually live a life. People around you keep bugging you into getting yourself a partner and starting a family because hell yes your womb has an expiration date. The monthly bills never failing to show at your mailbox. Your friends goes from how are you doing to when are you getting married. Not to tell you that at this age, you should start worrying about your health which means you have to watch carefully what you eat and what you do because you remembered the news from the other week ago about people the same age as you who died from hypertension, diabetes and cancer. But you want to lead a good life. You want to do something worthwhile, inspire people and be a legend but you just couldn't decide yet what you're going to be and despite that you don't want to decide yet what you're going to do because you feel infinite like, man, I've got the whole world ahead of me I'm going to think all of that stuff tomorrow.
It sucks. Everyone you know was 24 years old once but how could they do this to you. They never even gave a damn to tell you things about being an adult. Oh yes, its revenge time. You got to figure things out just as the way they did. And to tell you the truth, I really wish I'm 24years old forever so that I don't have to face all these things. How come my friends knew what they're going to be from now when I myself isn't sure. How come getting married and raising a family had been so easy for them when even admitting I have a crush on a guy seems to be the test of a lifetime for me. We live in the same society. We were taught the same morals that guided our parents. How did I turn to be this different from all of them.
I'm reading more now. Two books in a month become easy as a goal despite my hospital working hours because my reading skill enhances everyday. I will be writing a novel soon and I wouldn't let myself procrastinate this time. I encourage myself by thinking that if I don't write this time, I will never be able to write anything in my life. Ever. I am disciplining myself to finish things I've started and to tell you, it's a good exercise and I feel like I'm on the right path. I celebrated my two years as a nurse last week. One year to go and my three year contract with the hospital I work will be done. I can stay as long as I like or I can resign anytime as I like. Although its very good money, I don't think its the right place for me to stay. I don't want to be bounded by the society where people treats people according to their educational level. I'm tired of being bullied by doctors who think they are entitled to all the respect in the world because they're doctors. I don't want to be spending the next years of my life receiving little to almost no recognition from patients who think that you're just doing what the doctors order you to do and that you need to do everything they want because they're sick and because they're paying you. And I'm exhausted of not making any difference. "You can't do that" "The book doesn't justify your action" "How long have you worked here? I worked here for a hundred years, how dare you question me blah-blah-blah-blah" I remember the times when I defied all these. I refused to yield in bullying. I speak up for myself and my coworkers. I reminded patients and their families that believe it or not 75% of the reason I'm working there is because I am fulfilling my dream of helping others. Helping them alleviate suffering. All of us in that field is there because of that reason. Until I realize how the world works. Until I saw myself outside the circle of a long standing pattern and beliefs. That's when I saw that I wouldn't be able to make a difference where I am now. People are comfortable with how things work. I wouldn't be able to abolish all the bullying but I will never be a part of it. I plan on staying for a year or two more. I need to save so I can give myself a better future. I need to give myself a better future so I can share that future with those who think there is no future at all. 24 years of living and the only thing I am sure of is that kindness go on a long way. I have develop this kind of eye that see people on what they are. I lose interest in how much they earn compared to what I earn. I see people around me as equals and because of it I learned to treat people as equals.
And what else am I planning to do? What else should an adult like me do? I think we should continue, despite everything we've been through and will go through, in making the world a better place.
Did it sucks? Did you remember someone telling you that being an adult also means you have to create a better world?
It sucks. Everyone you know was 24 years old once but how could they do this to you. They never even gave a damn to tell you things about being an adult. Oh yes, its revenge time. You got to figure things out just as the way they did. And to tell you the truth, I really wish I'm 24years old forever so that I don't have to face all these things. How come my friends knew what they're going to be from now when I myself isn't sure. How come getting married and raising a family had been so easy for them when even admitting I have a crush on a guy seems to be the test of a lifetime for me. We live in the same society. We were taught the same morals that guided our parents. How did I turn to be this different from all of them.
I'm reading more now. Two books in a month become easy as a goal despite my hospital working hours because my reading skill enhances everyday. I will be writing a novel soon and I wouldn't let myself procrastinate this time. I encourage myself by thinking that if I don't write this time, I will never be able to write anything in my life. Ever. I am disciplining myself to finish things I've started and to tell you, it's a good exercise and I feel like I'm on the right path. I celebrated my two years as a nurse last week. One year to go and my three year contract with the hospital I work will be done. I can stay as long as I like or I can resign anytime as I like. Although its very good money, I don't think its the right place for me to stay. I don't want to be bounded by the society where people treats people according to their educational level. I'm tired of being bullied by doctors who think they are entitled to all the respect in the world because they're doctors. I don't want to be spending the next years of my life receiving little to almost no recognition from patients who think that you're just doing what the doctors order you to do and that you need to do everything they want because they're sick and because they're paying you. And I'm exhausted of not making any difference. "You can't do that" "The book doesn't justify your action" "How long have you worked here? I worked here for a hundred years, how dare you question me blah-blah-blah-blah" I remember the times when I defied all these. I refused to yield in bullying. I speak up for myself and my coworkers. I reminded patients and their families that believe it or not 75% of the reason I'm working there is because I am fulfilling my dream of helping others. Helping them alleviate suffering. All of us in that field is there because of that reason. Until I realize how the world works. Until I saw myself outside the circle of a long standing pattern and beliefs. That's when I saw that I wouldn't be able to make a difference where I am now. People are comfortable with how things work. I wouldn't be able to abolish all the bullying but I will never be a part of it. I plan on staying for a year or two more. I need to save so I can give myself a better future. I need to give myself a better future so I can share that future with those who think there is no future at all. 24 years of living and the only thing I am sure of is that kindness go on a long way. I have develop this kind of eye that see people on what they are. I lose interest in how much they earn compared to what I earn. I see people around me as equals and because of it I learned to treat people as equals.
And what else am I planning to do? What else should an adult like me do? I think we should continue, despite everything we've been through and will go through, in making the world a better place.
Did it sucks? Did you remember someone telling you that being an adult also means you have to create a better world?
Saturday, February 4, 2017
LATE NIGHT VISITOR
I don't know why but my walk for home from my afternoon shifts is reminding me of him.
He is popping out of my mind as soon as I reach the gate and is dwelling there until I fall asleep. In my mind, I can see him beside me, like how he is during our first date. I can sense our height difference and the way my head fits perfectly when I lean on his shoulder. He was smiling at me with his eyes and lips. Oh how long his lashes are and how envious I am of his eyes that seem to speak a thousand words. I can feel his hand, clutching mine, so afraid to let go, wishing we can do more than holding hands. I remember exactly how ready I am to give him a kiss the night we parted. It was a physical longing on my part. I was longing to share something to someone. But I hold on tight to my morals. We were not at the right place and at the right time after our date. I can smell him. Oh gods, the smell of his perfume. It was one of the most vivid memory I have of him. As if I can see the sweet smell lingering around his body. I don't know. Maybe it was the night sky. Or the view of the street, from afar. Maybe it was the feel of the air but honestly, I don't know what triggers my brain that I am remembering him out of nowhere.
Its been six months. He tried to contact me twice but I blocked it out. I was angry that he lied to me. He clearly dated another girl during the time he promises that we will both figure out how to love each other. Imagine the pain I felt the moment I saw the picture of them, faces inches from each other, as if the world can go against them and they wouldn't care a bit. Imagine the hurt I endured because the first guy I ever let into my small world didn't even tried to explain to me and win me back. He was a liar. And an asshole. I thought I would never write anything about him again and yet,here I am, trying to convince myself that I've done the right thing.
But what if my sudden nightly recollection of him was the result of guilt. What if I am guilty of letting go? What if its me who has the problem? Maybe it was my long standing trust issues that is the root of all this. Maybe I was wrong to block him all out. Maybe if I just responded to him when he messaged me, maybe he would explain. Then what? What comes after he explains himself? I wouldn't know. It is too late for all that now. Time has passed us by. I am sure his feelings slowly fading away now just as mine does.
It is sad how all these things left a mark on me. I was never the same person after I walked away from this bullshit I thought was love. I was more guarded. More critical. I socialize, yes, but I resolve in never letting anyone in again. I remember how I believe love can justify everything. I thought love can fill any holes and longing we have in our life. Why did he lie to me just as when I thought my love for him can fill the holes he have? I thought loyalty will assure him and us. But it didn't work that way. I was naive. I didn't see before that he was too young to love me. I was at the right place and at the right time. But I didn't get the right person. We ended up losing each other. Happy Valentine's day.
He is popping out of my mind as soon as I reach the gate and is dwelling there until I fall asleep. In my mind, I can see him beside me, like how he is during our first date. I can sense our height difference and the way my head fits perfectly when I lean on his shoulder. He was smiling at me with his eyes and lips. Oh how long his lashes are and how envious I am of his eyes that seem to speak a thousand words. I can feel his hand, clutching mine, so afraid to let go, wishing we can do more than holding hands. I remember exactly how ready I am to give him a kiss the night we parted. It was a physical longing on my part. I was longing to share something to someone. But I hold on tight to my morals. We were not at the right place and at the right time after our date. I can smell him. Oh gods, the smell of his perfume. It was one of the most vivid memory I have of him. As if I can see the sweet smell lingering around his body. I don't know. Maybe it was the night sky. Or the view of the street, from afar. Maybe it was the feel of the air but honestly, I don't know what triggers my brain that I am remembering him out of nowhere.
Its been six months. He tried to contact me twice but I blocked it out. I was angry that he lied to me. He clearly dated another girl during the time he promises that we will both figure out how to love each other. Imagine the pain I felt the moment I saw the picture of them, faces inches from each other, as if the world can go against them and they wouldn't care a bit. Imagine the hurt I endured because the first guy I ever let into my small world didn't even tried to explain to me and win me back. He was a liar. And an asshole. I thought I would never write anything about him again and yet,here I am, trying to convince myself that I've done the right thing.
But what if my sudden nightly recollection of him was the result of guilt. What if I am guilty of letting go? What if its me who has the problem? Maybe it was my long standing trust issues that is the root of all this. Maybe I was wrong to block him all out. Maybe if I just responded to him when he messaged me, maybe he would explain. Then what? What comes after he explains himself? I wouldn't know. It is too late for all that now. Time has passed us by. I am sure his feelings slowly fading away now just as mine does.
It is sad how all these things left a mark on me. I was never the same person after I walked away from this bullshit I thought was love. I was more guarded. More critical. I socialize, yes, but I resolve in never letting anyone in again. I remember how I believe love can justify everything. I thought love can fill any holes and longing we have in our life. Why did he lie to me just as when I thought my love for him can fill the holes he have? I thought loyalty will assure him and us. But it didn't work that way. I was naive. I didn't see before that he was too young to love me. I was at the right place and at the right time. But I didn't get the right person. We ended up losing each other. Happy Valentine's day.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
DEPRESSION
The thing about me this past few weeks is that I feel lonely and sad almost all the time. Its not loneliness that roots from lack of belongingness or because I have few friends whatsoever but it's the type of loneliness in which I feel like I am missing my old life.
Its odd. I am at the time of life. I live in the city. I can do whatever I want to do. Date who I want to date. Be someone like those girls from late night drama series. I am never going to be this young again. But I feel empty. All I know is that I am away from my family and friends and you might say that I am just homesick and yes, maybe I am one hell of a homesick because I miss the life I have before I became what I am now. I miss the simplicity I have before. I miss my family. I miss my dog--Morphine and Doug. The sound of their barks. I miss my afternoon naps and late night conversation with my journals and books. I miss the silence of our home. The comfort of our living room. The softness of my own bed. The sound of wind against the gutter of our roof. I miss the shrieking voices of children playing outside. I miss my mother and her gunshot nagging. I miss my father and my sisters. And most of all, I miss myself. I miss the "me" who felt like she can conquer the world with her words. The "me" who have so much to live and die for. The "me" who even without money, can shout to the world that she is happy. We grew up too fast, won't you say? At twenty four, I feel like I've already live a lifetime that was never mine. I couldn't think of something worth living now. It feels like there is nothing more for me out there. That the world may go on without me and still it will always be the same. I feel tired. And sad. I feel terribly sad of living like this. I feel different. Horribly different. While my friends are getting married and having kids, there is me here. Stuck in an endless cycle of asking why. Why is it so hard to be like everyone else? Why do I have to be me? Why is it sad? Why?
After all these years of trying so hard, I realize that I am still the girl from ten years ago. I still want the things I want from back then. Not a stable job. Nor large bank savings money. But life. I want a simple life. A life when I can watch the sun rise and set. Smell the breeze and feel the wind. Do bonfires, roast meat and talk to native people. I want to hear stories. Not the ones full of self proclamation but real stories of life, tragedy and love. I want to read my books and drink hot sweet cocoa my grandmother used to made for me when I was a little girl. I want to write and spend the day writing. I want to lie under the sky and count the stars. I want to live. I want to feel. But I am too far from all this. No matter what I do now it wouldn't up to this.
Sweet heavens, I feel like I don't deserve this life.
Its odd. I am at the time of life. I live in the city. I can do whatever I want to do. Date who I want to date. Be someone like those girls from late night drama series. I am never going to be this young again. But I feel empty. All I know is that I am away from my family and friends and you might say that I am just homesick and yes, maybe I am one hell of a homesick because I miss the life I have before I became what I am now. I miss the simplicity I have before. I miss my family. I miss my dog--Morphine and Doug. The sound of their barks. I miss my afternoon naps and late night conversation with my journals and books. I miss the silence of our home. The comfort of our living room. The softness of my own bed. The sound of wind against the gutter of our roof. I miss the shrieking voices of children playing outside. I miss my mother and her gunshot nagging. I miss my father and my sisters. And most of all, I miss myself. I miss the "me" who felt like she can conquer the world with her words. The "me" who have so much to live and die for. The "me" who even without money, can shout to the world that she is happy. We grew up too fast, won't you say? At twenty four, I feel like I've already live a lifetime that was never mine. I couldn't think of something worth living now. It feels like there is nothing more for me out there. That the world may go on without me and still it will always be the same. I feel tired. And sad. I feel terribly sad of living like this. I feel different. Horribly different. While my friends are getting married and having kids, there is me here. Stuck in an endless cycle of asking why. Why is it so hard to be like everyone else? Why do I have to be me? Why is it sad? Why?
After all these years of trying so hard, I realize that I am still the girl from ten years ago. I still want the things I want from back then. Not a stable job. Nor large bank savings money. But life. I want a simple life. A life when I can watch the sun rise and set. Smell the breeze and feel the wind. Do bonfires, roast meat and talk to native people. I want to hear stories. Not the ones full of self proclamation but real stories of life, tragedy and love. I want to read my books and drink hot sweet cocoa my grandmother used to made for me when I was a little girl. I want to write and spend the day writing. I want to lie under the sky and count the stars. I want to live. I want to feel. But I am too far from all this. No matter what I do now it wouldn't up to this.
Sweet heavens, I feel like I don't deserve this life.
Monday, January 2, 2017
NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION
Maybe maturity is when you realize that it doesn't have to be new year for you to change but I still think that listing down your new year's resolution is a good start, a sign that you decide that you'll change--- for the better. I believe it's important to write down things. We are creatures quick to forget and we need to be reminded from time to time. Sometimes, from ourselves.
Here's my new year's resolution for 2017.
I promise to take care of myself more. I was my laziest during 2016. I ate a lot fastfoods, junkfoods and drank cups and cups of coffee and soda. I slept without washing my face and brushing my teeth. I don't workout. I was a fool to believe that my body can take so much junks and still remain healthy. Thus I suffer from constant stomach ache and facial acne. I promise to start a healthy lifestyle. I'll cut off coffee from my daily routine. I'll eat fruits again. And I'll exercise.
I promise to protect myself from toxic people. 2016 introduced me to people that I thought would be good for me. I failed to listen to that soft voice warning me that people who talk behind your back are toxic. I allowed some of them to ruin me. It won't happen again. Not because they share the same hobby, workplace or name with you means they understand you. These people suck out life energy. They drag others to the same mud they were. I won't have this in«» my life again.
I promise to love and take care of my family more. Family is important. They share the same blood, the same name and the same burden. It's funny how my relatives doesn't even know me really but I know I'll always have them to back me up. No matter what it is. My family will always be there, as I will be to them.
I promise to invest in memories and dreams. I will enjoy moments more, knowing that I wouldn't be as young as I am now. I'm starting to die and I don't have any plans of staying on the same ground for long. I will study again this year. I will write my book. I will read more books and watch more movies. I will still go to conventions and experience my fandoms. I would love to meet more of the celebrities I enjoy watching. I will compliment others more and I promise to talk less shits. I want others to know me again as someone who talks only when necessary--- that I've lost because I've said too many bullshits to worthless people. But I will write more. I will write everything I want to remember.
I promise to lessen proscratination. That, I will figure how.
I will love myself more so I can love others more.
I will go back praying and worshipping God. He's unchanging. I know He'll help me make things work out again for us.
I will do all this and write about how I conquer myself at the end of 2017. That is how we grow anyway, right? By conquering ourselves. By pushing through what we think is our limit. That is how we grow and become who we really are. I like to know who am I really.
Here's my new year's resolution for 2017.
I promise to take care of myself more. I was my laziest during 2016. I ate a lot fastfoods, junkfoods and drank cups and cups of coffee and soda. I slept without washing my face and brushing my teeth. I don't workout. I was a fool to believe that my body can take so much junks and still remain healthy. Thus I suffer from constant stomach ache and facial acne. I promise to start a healthy lifestyle. I'll cut off coffee from my daily routine. I'll eat fruits again. And I'll exercise.
I promise to protect myself from toxic people. 2016 introduced me to people that I thought would be good for me. I failed to listen to that soft voice warning me that people who talk behind your back are toxic. I allowed some of them to ruin me. It won't happen again. Not because they share the same hobby, workplace or name with you means they understand you. These people suck out life energy. They drag others to the same mud they were. I won't have this in«» my life again.
I promise to love and take care of my family more. Family is important. They share the same blood, the same name and the same burden. It's funny how my relatives doesn't even know me really but I know I'll always have them to back me up. No matter what it is. My family will always be there, as I will be to them.
I promise to invest in memories and dreams. I will enjoy moments more, knowing that I wouldn't be as young as I am now. I'm starting to die and I don't have any plans of staying on the same ground for long. I will study again this year. I will write my book. I will read more books and watch more movies. I will still go to conventions and experience my fandoms. I would love to meet more of the celebrities I enjoy watching. I will compliment others more and I promise to talk less shits. I want others to know me again as someone who talks only when necessary--- that I've lost because I've said too many bullshits to worthless people. But I will write more. I will write everything I want to remember.
I promise to lessen proscratination. That, I will figure how.
I will love myself more so I can love others more.
I will go back praying and worshipping God. He's unchanging. I know He'll help me make things work out again for us.
I will do all this and write about how I conquer myself at the end of 2017. That is how we grow anyway, right? By conquering ourselves. By pushing through what we think is our limit. That is how we grow and become who we really are. I like to know who am I really.
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