After more than two years of suffering from anxiety, I am finally healed.
For the past two years, I believe I have been romanticizing anxiety. Writing poetry in my journal, spitting every emotion straight from my panicking soul. It is not a beautiful thing.
Acknowledging anxiety is the right thing because, I realized I need help but becoming a slave to it is a different story. I realized that this anxiety does not own me, I own it and because I own it, I can let it go. (How people see anxiety are different from everyone else and I am speaking just for me.) I have fed this false emotions, which I didn’t realize those years, and it hindered me from everything. I am now thankful that I am getting better.
Being healed takes time, and in the process, I rediscovered faith. Faith in the unseen, in the powerful force that holds the universe, faith in the God I believe in.
I can now unembrace this anxiety that I have nurtured. I am now letting this go. This is me being free, being healed.
I like cold showers .
It distracts me from the chaos in my mind.
The cold water makes my body shiver and I focus on that feeling.
Physical feelings are tolerable than inner conflicts.
The cold tightens every muscle in my body and I catch myself holding my breath. And when you hold your breath, you’ll realize you have to let go. Breath out, relax every muscle, and be calm.
Cold showers are mundane, but somehow freeing.
Today, I voted.
All the suitors have been considered.
I still believe that none of them were right.
But, it came down to whoever was the lesser evil.
I am a rock star citizen of this third-world country.
Most of the time, I’m staring at the wall. Sometimes thinking, sometimes not but still staring and zoning out. It gives a calming effect and a peace of mind somehow because the wall’s blankness. I hope life’s problems can be solved by just staring at a blank wall.
I don’t like being compared to anyone else. It’s not healthy for me because even when the intentions are good, I can’t help but see all sides – the good and the bad – and it somehow triggers a self-pity phase and activates my overthinking brain.
I stopped freelancing a few months ago
so I have a lot of times to stare at walls. I just want to be my own boss so I did not get a day job at a production house. I’m thinking of starting a business of my own. I don’t know how to do it but I am sure I will do it. I need to do it. I must do it. I can do it.
Being an introvert has its strengths and weaknesses and I am still discovering new things that will help me survive this extrovert-driven world. I am also rediscovering traits that was buried in my subconsciousness.
2015 is ending. I am hoping for a good year to come.
Oh my Lord,
for he is evil.
I didn’t visit any cemetery until 2014, the year papa died. So I am not well aware of what to do when visiting a grave. But for the few times we visited papa’s, we didn’t even pay proper respect. No flowers, candles, and food were offered. We just stood there silently and looked at the name etched on the marble lapida along with the wrong birthdate of papa.. And then, we stopped by a restaurant to eat before going home.
I want to justify myself and my mom that it’s okay to not give proper respect:
-He’s dead, so he won’t even know it.
-Our presence is enough to show that we respect him.
Living in a country that is religiously following these customs, we might get a few eyes looking at us, may be mocking us in their minds because of not giving respect to the deceased. But, whatever, I still love papa and I might or might still not bring flowers, candles, and food the next time I visit him.
I hope people would not be confused by facts and fictions
and learn to live in the right world.
But who am I kidding anyway?
When I, myself, love to mix facts and fictions.
“Everything happens for a reason.” It’s a cliche and it makes me cringe but I’m not gonna be a hypocrite because I am also guilty of using this line. I understand the idea that if it happened, then there must be a reason behind it. What I don’t get is that why does it have to happen for that reason?
There are things that still boggle my head and I try to answer them. Everything has an answer, right? Or that’s why the term ‘open-ended’ is created because there are really instances when a question must remain a question.
It’s funny how life makes us go insane or deep or nonchalant. Life is pretty interesting that even though not all parts of it are magnificently beautiful, life, as a whole has still its own beauty that one cannot really define but just experience.
Life maybe a cliche but it is crafted for each individual to be his and her own beautiful cliche.
2014 has been a tough year for me and my mother. But if there’s one thing that it taught me, it’s about moving on.
Well, not all moving on’s are about romantic relationships. You can move on from your past self to a better version of you. You can move on from an old house to a new one. You can move on from an old chapter in your life to a new beginning that’s yet to be told. Moving on cannot be limited to just overcoming problems. Maybe you had a successful event and you’re moving on to take greater risks and explore bigger worlds. Moving on is being able to take a step to a new side of the grass and looking back acknowledging that it has been a tough ride but you finished it and now onto your next ride.
At the start of the year, I was really happy because I’ve spent it with my parents -it’s a rare happening because papa’s always out of the country- we have plans about what we’re gonna do when I finally graduate. I didn’t know there was a big surprise until the night of April, when papa died. I never imagined how it would be like with that setting. It crushed me more than how a breakup crushes one’s heart. It’s like what you see in television soaps only there are no scripts and no cameras. I also have decided that I would not cry because I don’t want others to pity me when all I really wanted to feel are comforting hugs. I din’t cry and I thought that I was strong and that it would be easier to move on.
I was wrong.
I bottled up all emotions and I just wanted to burst because I was angry. Angry for keeping it all inside like a secret that needs to be forgotten. But with the help of Love himself, the Lord, I realized it was okay to cry for a lost loved one. And it’s normal to lose someone you loved dearly. This is how life works, people come and go. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. And at all times, blessed be the name of the Lord.
Slowly, I start to move on. I start to really let go. I still don’t understand why my father died so sudden. The regrets piled up on me but the people around me helped me move on. I don’t think that “I’ve finally moved on” is not the right term. I am always moving on, it’s just that sometimes it’s on a slower pace and other times, faster. I am moving on. I will not stop moving forward. It’s actually okay to look back and remember the things of the past but as you look back, smile, knowing that it’s all in the past and there’s a greater path ahead as long as you keep moving on and follow God’s path.