Finding Myself in the Process

I look back at how I was not just roughly 3 months ago, I look back at how I have been as a person for the past 15 years, I couldn’t recount everything I ever did, good and bad, but I recall most of it as if it just happened yesterday. I look back and try my hardest to see who I was, who I have become and who I was trying to be. What have I done with my life, what did I do to myself.

Most of who I was didn’t belong to the soul I once knew when I was younger. I tragically lost myself, piece by piece in every blow life gave me.

I lost a part of me when my mom had to work overseas, I lost a part of me when I transferred schools and welcomed a new life, I lost a part of me when I didn’t get to see most of the people I have seen for the past 5 years of my life in middle school. I lost a part of me when little by little I found myself trying so hard to belong in a community that I didn’t fit in in the first place. I lost myself as I found new friends, I lost myself in all the heartbreak, judgment and torture I had to deal with in everything—in high school. I turned into a different person altogether and I didn’t know that until I had to lose everything that I am.

As if I didn’t lose a lot yet, I had to lose a huge chunk of my social circle and that was the last straw until I lost myself.lost

“I found the parts of me I didn’t know existed, then it all made sense.”

I lost myself fully. I had to breakdown, I had to have a lot of meltdowns, I had to be torn apart, stripped off of what I used to have, I had to tear myself piece by piece, I had to blind myself with tears. I had to cripple myself, I had to crawl to find my way back. I had to claw and fight with my own demons and yes it took all of me. It took all of my heart and soul in one blow and then I found myself.

“I had to go through hell and back with myself for myself.”

I found all the missing pieces, I found all the parts of me that I have lost for the past 15 years. I found the parts of me that I didn’t know existed then it all made sense.

I had to go through hell and back with myself for myself. I had to be broken down so I can build myself. I had to get lost so I can find my way back, I had to be blinded by tears so it could clear my eyes too. I had to be stripped off and torn apart so I can put myself back together, I had to be crippled so I could learn to stand and walk again. I had to lose myself so I can find it in the process.

It took all of who I was so I can be the person I always wanted and I guess that makes everything fair and just.

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Did I really need to lose all the friends I had for this cause? Maybe yes, maybe no. Who knows? Because at this rate, at this very moment, I can’t blame anybody else, not even myself. Because what happened may have happened differently but still, it happened because it was the consequence of the bouncing actions that had been buried fresh without closure.

Do I still feel sad when I think about it? Yes. It’s a mix of yes and no to be honest. However, I guess I only feel sad because I terribly miss every single one of my (ex)(best) friends! Imagine waking up one day without your besties right? But then that’s probably how things should be.

I am still lucky and blessed enough to have people that are still my friends. My family has always been with me through whatever and that I guess should be enough motivation to become a better person instead of wallowing to loneliness.

I didn’t want to name the people that I am grateful for because honestly, I am grateful for anyone who has been with me and who taught me how to be a better person.

Aside from Kyx and my Family, shout out to Gert, Dianne, Ayen, Bea, Abi, Jan, Vannessa, Airah, Rubert, Aki, Lyndon, King, Ramon, Jai, Dinah, Karen, Jane, Anne, Mara, Marga, Nics, Win, Rio, Wys, Suz, Jhown, Angel, TC, Joy, Saisho, Erin, Lot, Bea Ab**, Mariel, Jude, Moi, Yna, Eds, Tals, Mu, Eunice, Erwin, Erica, Dyan, Ian, MG, Zelda, Faye, Riva, Ten, Edel, Anj, Mimi, Heddy, Diane, Chelsea, Janine, Leli, Angel, Ara, Shai, Rosalie, Ghe, Dulay—for constantly being there for me!

I’ve got a lot of other people that I wanna say thank you to but I guess, you guys know who you are. Hahaha.

Also, to my blog readers; for the support all day everyday. xx

This is pretty similar to my spontaneous post last night, I had to just sit down and write a “better” version of the one I published haha.

 

 

Featured Image: My own painting (inspired by an artist who originally made that painting. I just made my own version); December 2016 ; Other images: Found in google

 

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March 2, 2017: I Woke Up Not Feeling It

Before we all get worked up, this isn’t about my love life. LOL. As usual, my relationship with Kyx is very healthy and though we may have some arguments from time to time, nothing really changes between us except that we love each other more.

Anyhoo, I woke up today not feeling it—not feeling like I want what I am doing. That I’m sculpted for this. Okay, so to give you a better understanding. I woke up early, did an ab interval exercise (which made my head ached for about 5 mins after the routine lol) then took a bath, got myself fixed up for work, prepared my lunch, ate breakfast and Kyx drove me to the office. While I was inside the elevator, I got to thinking that I’ve been riding the same elevator for a year now. It’s so monotonous. Then the moment I arrived at my work station, I got to see my desk filled with post its, magazines, a calendar and a lot more. I mean it is so monotonous that it’s rather lonely than boring if anything. Though I like being monotonous originally, I feel like I am getting so burned out already because I keep doing the same thing over and over and over and over and over again.

I work as a Copywriter in a company. I’m not under an agency which means I am an in-house Copywriter. I write articles about our healthcare products such as an array of supplements and stuff like that. I also write the content they put on our website. I write the PR that gets published in the newspaper and magazine. I write articles that get disseminated to different bloggers for them to post on their blogs. I don’t get any credit for it and somehow I’m okay with that. I love writing, I really do. But right now it’s getting old for me. Like all the articles I’ve been writing. I cringe every time I go to work and check my To-do list and then start writing again. My work is writing, my passion and hobby is writing. I’m supposed to really love love my work right? But what is this feeling? I’m not feeling it. I’m not feeling good about work and myself and what I do.

You see, I’m wondering, is this what I really want to do? Would I get old doing this and staying in one place for as long as I live? Will I even get any better than this? A lot to think about and a lot to feel towards this matter.

I guess the only good thing I can tell you about this dilemma is that: I may be almost 26 years old but I still have this dilemma trying to figure things out. I guess everyone is just as lost as I am at some point in time so if you feel lost and confused right now, I’ll give you a virtual pat in the back saying “hush hush my friend, I feel you” cause you know, take comfort in knowing that you are not alone. 😉

Xox,T.