Let It Go, Let It Gooooo

Idk if it’s just me or being an INFJ has something to do with my hunt for reasons and meaning. It actually benefits me by giving me the peace of mind when I finally find answers to my questions but I realized that it’s unhealthy. It gives me the anxiety, it makes me overthink, it makes me worry about things I shouldn’t even think about in the first place!

My brother Altheo once told me over a cup of coffee that not everything has a meaning, not everything needs a reason behind it and sometimes we just have to let things be the way it is. Hindi lahat may rason, may eksplanasyon, may ibig sabihin. I was just asking him about the meaning of my favourite song called Soon by Moonpools and Caterpillars. (Listen to the song. They’re a Fil-Am band from the 90s’)

I found it hard to understand. Until now I feel so attacked (HAHAHA MAGAMIT KO LANG YUNG ‘ATTACKED’) and conflicted with the fact that maybe my brother is right, maybe we put meaning and find reasons on things when we should just let it be (?) I live for reasons and meanings and all that crap so how the hell can things be just as it is? How can a “hello” just be a hello without a meaning attached to it? How does the song Soon with lyrics such as “then one day soon it’s gonna happen to you and when it does, it won’t be pretty” could be meaningless? How can it be just a song without a story behind it? I can’t quite piece it for my own good but you see, maybe that’s life.

Maybe we should just freaking stop putting meaning and finding reasons, maybe we should be able to learn to let go and leave things the way it is?


Being Reactive

For a long time, I am a reactive person, a patola and someone who can’t let things go very easily. In short, hindi talaga ako madaling makamove on from simple yet irritating things. A side comment can drive me nuts and push me over the edge. I get so worked up on trivial things and pour my energy, stress myself more than I should and even if I keep realizing how wrong this is, how I should control myself, my temper and the way I react over things—I keep going back to the cycle. The cycle wherein I can’t allow people to trample over my point and to have my point across all the freaking time. Aside from this is very stressful, it’s also tad bit toxic!

So when I came across what Marts have written, I was again, back to realizing things.

Like how to change my way of living when it comes to reacting, controlling myself and strengthening my walls. I remind myself on a daily basis to keep my walls up and strong! Though easier said than done, with lots of practice, I think I can do it.

I also realized na mas okay palampasin ang mga bagay na wala namang bearing sa ating kaunlaran at pagkatao. That’s why I look up to my mom and Kyx so much when it comes to these things. Sila yung mga taong kilala kong hindi agad natitibag ang mga walls. They can keep calm when everything is turning upside down. Hindi sila mabilis matrigger ng mga shit sa mundo. Mga bagay na nakakaasar. They don’t even waste their time and energy on things so trivial. They shrug it off and go on with their lives, ganyan sila. I wish I can be like that also. Yung walang masyadong hanash.

Someone Tell Me

When it comes to healing, moving on and letting go

Why do we need closure, why do we seek and crave for it? And why, despite knowing that this is probably common and needed, people do not give it to you?

Why do we need to hear whether we are forgiven or not, why do we need to be put into place? Why do we need to know these things?

Why despite the chances of hearing and knowing the bad things they have to say, we still want to hear it anyway?

Someone tell me. Seriously. I need to be enlightened.

Lately I have been thinking of how I can start my life anew. Like start on a clean slate.

I started to think about the old friends I used to have and how my life turned upside down. I started my forgiveness since the day I have finally understood that nope, there’s no going back. But forgiveness is a tricky thing and for the first time in a long time, I don’t blame myself for it.

I have pictured and made myself believe that I am walking forward, toward a new life but in reality I was trying to walk forward while turning for over a couple of dozens of times only to realize that there’s no need for me to look back.

Part of my being is keeping memories close to my heart. I can remember even the smallest of details from 20 years ago and it still plays very vividly on my mind as if it was just yesterday. So the problem with letting go of people is the memories I had back with them. I don’t think I was ever prepared that what I have held on for so long—the memories, are made to be forcibly forgotten.

How in the world will I ever forget these when I don’t even intend to remember it anymore? How will I do that?

I got a simple answer care of myself as usual. That’s when forgiveness enters and I must understand its meaning, value and what it entails.

When I forgive these people, I can move forward without hesitations, without looking back and regretting every step I took forward.

There are people I have cut out from my life and there are people who did just that to me. Now, in the midst of trying to let everything go and move on from where I am, I couldn’t help but think how some people can simply cut you off without having closure? But I guess that’s how the cope with things.

I just hope that I can leave everything behind and only look back from time to time without hurting myself on the thought of retracing memories. I just. I just really want to let myself go.

“It Felt Wrong”

How timely is it that this revelation occurred on a Thursday? Throwback Thursday!

There’s nothing more refreshing than finally knowing what caused all these chaos. All these trauma.

It’s overwhelming and unbelievable to get confronted by my amygdala. The wonders of the human brain. It’s just unbelievable and must I say, brilliant?

Finally, after burying every single detail from when I was 11 and 13 and 14, the memory of each experience have returned and the reunion was bittersweet. I have come to terms with the bitterness of the traumatic experience but let’s not fail to acknowledge the sweetness of knowing why all these tears, why the depression?

I have come to terms and I am at peace with the fact that yes, I was sexually abused by a child.

Not raped but well, sexually abused.

Not by strangers, no. But by people I am related to.

Not my dad, not my brothers, not my uncles, not my cousins.

I was sexually abused and when I was 11, 13 and 14, I didn’t even know it was called THAT. All I know was it felt wrong but I didn’t know what was right.

 It was not an intercourse. My virginity was not taken but it was equally as scarring as any form of sexual abuse.

How Emo is My Soul?

Let’s look inside me, let’s see what gives me nightmares if not every night at least twice a week, let’s check what gives me heartaches, let’s see what’s up. What really is up inside my core.

I have long forgotten to ask. Somehow I have convinced myself that I am okay. Don’t get me wrong, I am okay, I really am. I function every day, my immune system is even stronger than it has ever been, my mental health is a-okay, everything is good nowadays when it comes to my emotions and my mental state. I don’t think I’m ill, I don’t think depression will win over me, I don’t think anxiety will come knocking on my door yet again anytime soon.

I tried as much as I can to let go and move on. After all, it’s a win-win situation. I’d like to believe that I also won, I know I won somehow. They also did, somehow. They may probably even feel more successful than ever because they got rid of me, like a stinky cat no one likes to bring under their wings. Like a stray dog they can just bring into the woods and accidentally get lost. Like an old crafting material, not as shiny, not as useful. Somehow, I felt abandoned and no one likes that feeling.

You, you and you, you may have been hurt but you have never felt the pain of being abandoned. For crying out loud, I want to pull my own hair for again, writing about this. But the more painful thing, something more pathetic is the fact that I still feel this pain. Will this be forever painful? Will I still feel a pinch somewhere inside me when I think about it?

While I was taking a bath this morning, I thought about the other people in the circle of friends I have left. I thought of those not involved. I thought of them and I wondered why they never thought of me? No one even bothered to ask how I was feeling. No one even took their time to write me something, not even a single soul. I tried to rip everything that I can from my tiny little broken soul just so I couldn’t feel the pain, just so I don’t keep hurting myself by just thinking about them but. I can’t. It’s hard.

Why didn’t you even bother asking me if I am in any way “okay”? Why didn’t you even think of me?

And why do I still bother asking these questions?

Well Fuck It, Depression is Not A Joke.

I want to write something about it when I’m composed and not while I’m all over the place but my goodness, how can someone still be joking about depression?

Here’s a link of a rappler article  I have read (and shared on Facebook) and see for yourself how this public figure commented that depression is a made up disease. “gawa gawa lang yan” he said and I cannot, for the life of me just let it go.

How can someone trivialize my struggle, the struggle of those who have depression, the struggle of the people who have loved ones suffering from depression? You think it’s easy? You think it’s some kind of a joke? There are some days that we try to function normally but in our heads, deep inside, we feel like a mess.

*I am on the verge of tears while writing this so Fuck YOUUUUU Joey De Leon for making me cry because of your stupid ignorance*

I don’t conceal my depression that much. My mom, my brothers, Kyx know it. They all suffer with me, not in a sense that I am a pabigat or a burden but because they know how I am struggling and they wish for me not to struggle at all. But ya see, depression is a devil that can’t just go away when shooed. Depression is a fucking monster. When you think everything is going all too well, you go home, sit in your bed and cry quietly because everything just feels so heavy.

There were times when I am quiet for weeks and Kyx wouldn’t know how else to get me to talk. Of course I talk to him but very very minimally. I stare at the corners of our room and Kyx would try to entertain me just so I could get out of my deep dark tunnel, my depression bubble.

If you don’t know it by now, here’s how depression looks the fuck like.

  • It’s when you smile and you try to be happy and laugh and just go on with your day but you know when you get to be alone, you’ll cry and think how life is going “well” for you.
  • It’s either you crave for so much or nothing at all.
  • It’s when you want to enjoy but you hate yourself too much you can’t even fake smile.
  • It’s when you go to work every fucking waking day of your life and do your job and deal with all the crappy things about work but you don’t get to breakdown because? Because you know not everyone understands the crappy depression thing you have.
  • It’s when everything is colourful and you struggle to stay colourful.
  • It’s when you long for comfort but you want to stay away at the same time because you affect them so much or that’s what you think.

More than that, I’d like to fucking stress that depression is not just crying and crying yourself to sleep and crying when you wake up, crying while taking a bath. Depression is more often than not, feeling empty that you think you’re not even fucking worthy of oxygen.

But you fight. You fight the monsters and evils and demons that depression makes you believe. You fight because you know you can control it no matter how fucking hard it could be. So why the fuck would you even think that depression is some senseless shit people make up? If I could choose, I’d like that depression did not exist at all! People are fighting depression every day and you have the guts to trivialize it and announce that PEOPLE JUST MAKE IT UP? FUCK YOU.