23 August 2012
03 July 2012
Anak (daughter), you should always wear your good underwear whenever you're going out. When I was younger, I had this friend who fainted while we were out training. Of course, we had to loosen his clothes so he could breathe easier and carry him to the infirmary. When we were lifting him up, his pants fell and everyone saw that his briefs had rolled down and had holes in it. We couldn't help but laugh at him despite his state. To this day that story still comes up whenever our class gets together for reunions.
Yikes. My mom would complement that story with a reminder that I myself have already been in a similar situation once and given the normal state of my health, the possibility of that happening again is far from remote.
Why I suddenly remember this lecture now, I'm not too certain. But it may have something to do with the exams being less than a hundred days away. Believe me, a hundred days is a short time and I'm feeling quite terrified. Wearing the right underwear for a certain activity, or at least wearing underwear that is adaptable to whatever situation, feels so much like exam readiness. It all comes down to the fact that no one else but you would truly know if you are ready... until the time comes when you're left with no choice whatsoever but to let the world see what's under your clothes, figuratively speaking.
In New Year 2008, I unwillingly bared my sports bra to the world. My sports bra for so many years that it was old, loose and had a couple of tears that my nanny simply sewed together because I loved using that bra. I had gone swimming with my siblings and little cousin in the very cold pool water and when I got out, it was just a matter of minutes before I started throwing up. A few minutes later, when I was done gorging out what I had for lunch, I got up and as I was walking to the female shower room, the world started spinning and I collapsed. My mom saw me just as I fell down and when she checked I had no pulse. Of course, being a doctor, she was very professional and immediately called on my dad, the driver, and several strangers to help. in front of all those people, she removed my rash guard and exposed my bra to the world. You would think she could have waited until they had brought (lifted, lumbered, dragged, whatever you're supposed to do to heavy people who are barely conscious) me to the car. But no, she had to do it right there.
As if I had much choice. At that point, I was foaming at the mouth, my entire body was swollen and I was choking on my own spit. At least I could have been asleep throughout the ordeal, but my dad was so scared that I would "walk into the light" that he kept shaking me and warning me not to. I was subsequently brought to the station hospital where, while my mom was away, I heard the nurses speaking over me, trying to recall how to attach certain instruments to me. I remember the same thought running through my mind over and over: Don't kill me because of stupidity.
As far as traumatic experiences go, I would place that particular story in my Top 5. I just hope that come October, I don't get that same helpless, bad underwear feeling.
26 June 2012
So I had another round of battle scars today. And I skipped class, because the mere idea of being surrounded by so many people simply fills me with too much dread. I don't know why I do these things that I do. I don't really know why I'm still doing this either. It's not like I'm actually going to make anyone proud. And it's not like it will make any difference. I'll still be plain old me.
Why do I hurt myself, you ask? Becuase sometimes the pain grows too big and too fast that you feel like you're going to burst and you just have to let it out somehow. Anyhow.
I actually went a little bit too far today, I think. Usually I simply have a lot of scratches on my skin. They sting but they mostly go unnoticed. But this morning I think I went a bit overboard, some of the scratches went too deep and bled. Good thing I only did a few.
For all I know it's just my feeling sick that's causing this. I've barely eaten since last night and I still haven't slept. But, I am well hydrated so that's a good thing. I spent the entire night and day watching an entire series. I couldn't sleep anyway.
So many thoughts are running through my mind right now. Thoughts that I have no right entertaining at this point in time. Thoughts I'm supposed to set aside until I can deal with them. But sometimes they just resurface at the least convenient moments. For example, it could have come back during the weekend when I'm alone and don't need to go to class. But no, it had to be now. Oh what a joke.
So here I am, not mortally wounded, starving but with no mood to eat, playing hooky and alone with my thoughts and my laptop and this darn internet connection that won't let me access my blog.
All I can say is, thank you, internet. For the anonymity you provide. You're the only friend I can tolerate right now. - 6/26/2012 9:41 AM
15 June 2012
How they could have mistaken you for anything less than amazing is something that confounds me to this very day. Though we haven't spent so much time together, I have no doubt that you are as sensational in person as you are in my wildest dreams. Perhaps even more so. Yet for some reason or another, Fate had decided to deal you a bad hand. What you could have done to offend him as a mere speck of dust I could not imagine. Frankly, if I had my way I would have kicked Fate in the nuts.
That is, if it wasn't for that one moment of humanity where Fate brought you to me. You, who brings me up whenever I'm down and gives me a reason to keep growing and moving on. You, who has been my constant source of inspiration. You, whose opinion actually matters and whose approval I constantly seek. You, who I often disappoint yet still believes in me unconditionally.
You, who until not so long ago hasn't even felt love.
I ask myself each and everyday what I could have done in your place, how I could have dealt with everything you had to go through. Truth is, I could not imagine ever being in your place, because I never had to. And it is all thanks to you.
So I count the days, the hours, the minutes. Counting down to when I will get to spend another moment with you. Then, there is also that morbid part of me that's counting down to when I can no longer be with you. That part that paralyzes me with fear and helplessness.
To you who is reading this, who is blissfully unaware of to whom this rambling is addressed, I clarify now. I write this for the man responsible for half of my genetic make-up. The reason I refuse to settle for less than what I deserve. The reason my standards remain so high. The reason I keep hoping for a better future, yet have ready back-up plans should it not turn out so. My first and one true hero.
This is for you, papa.
You know I'm not the praying kind, but each and every day I thank the powers-that-be that you were able to meet mama and that you had us. We who always miss you, who always fight over who gets to sit beside you, who look up to you, believe in you, and love you. So I will keep aiming, and I will keep striving, and I will always aim to make you proud.
Because no one deserves to be hurt the way you have been, and no one deserves to be loved as much as we love you.
Happy Father's Weekend. A day will never be enough with you.
14 June 2012
So I had a migraine for three days.
More than anything, this brings me back to the old days. When I was in high school and migraines, acid reflux and the latest movies defined much of my life.
Back then, I really could not imagine being in the state I am in now, in the process of reviewing (albeit not as productive as I should probably be) for an exam that may or may not define the rest of my life. Really, when I was in high school looking forward to the next half decade or so of my life, I only had two very polar scenarios in mind -- either (a) I'd take Journalism or Social Work as a pre-law course and by now be in my second year of law school, or (b) I'd finally go too far with hurting myself and end up dead.
Oh, those dark, bitter, glorious days.
Truth is, no matter how you look at it, I'm in the best situation I could possibly be at this point in my life.
In other news, my friends and I were able to book super cheap seats on a round trip flight to and from Malaysia, from where we plan to go into Singapore.
So here's a smile at the past that I will always remember fondly, no matter what. Here's a nod for the present, that I'm dealing with as capably as I could. Finally, here's a come-hither look to the future, I can't wait to meet you.
13 June 2012
Living the way I'm supposed to live. Going to review school, studying when I reach my condo. Exercising when I feel like it or when I remember I'm a fat whale. Texting friends and calling friends and laughing with friends. Living like I should.
I know why I'm here. I know what I'm trying to do. I know who I'm doing it for.
But you know what? I'd rather not. I'd really just like to get lost somewhere. Get really, really, lost -- and cry for all I'm worth before I crawl back to this life I'm supposed to live.
Why? That's the clincher. Just because.
20 April 2012
We had our graduation ball yesterday. So, that's done. The next highlight of my life would be sunday, when I finally graduate after 19 years of education. It's really a big deal, as far as I'm concerned. I had dresses specially made for both last night and my graduation, had my hair and make-up planned a week in advance, reserved a bar for my graduation blow-out with my friends and went out of my way to get extra tickets to my graduation for my nanny and the driver who's been with us for so many years.
Anyway, here's something I'd like to do: I want to make a conscious effort to make at least one person smile every single day.
I went to this fastfood joint earlier today to buy an ice cream cone (note: my snail-paced race to weight-loss actually does not allow this, but it was so hot out and I had so many errands to do that involved walking under that hot sun). There were a couple of service lanes but only one that was open, though there were other people milling about behind the counter. I was standing in line waiting for my turn when this one dude behind the counter asks if he could man one of the registers and got my attention. He was not dressed as one of the crew so I could only guess that he's either an intern (though he looks too old to be one) or more likely an employee from corporate HQ.
This person really made me laugh. Granted he looks good but that was merely a plus. On a hot day, he just had so much energy and enthusiasm for his task, though he had no idea what buttons to press to punch in my order. And when I was hving difficulty zipping up my bag, he took back my ice cream cone so I could finish what I was doing, all the while giving advice on which side of the ice cream I should eat first. To add to that, he kept on trying to speak in straight Filipino just like the other crew but had to keep switching to English to get his point across -- I always find the effort entertaining.
I left that restaurant feeling a lot less bothered by the heat, and I bet he didn't even consciously try to do that. So thank you, cute random person, you made my day a bit more bearable. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to finally try my hand at writing again. I have a month left before review formally starts and I'm sure if I sleep less I could find time for it amidst all my other activities. I'm not yet sure in what way I'm going to write it, or how I'll share it to the world, but I'm going to get started.
As soon as I finish with this graduation craziness.
18 April 2012
A month after college, a few days before graduation, and I have a new blog. Do I have time for this? No. So... why?
Here's a silly question: would you rather be lonely or alone? To most people, I guess there really isn't much difference, but there is for me. Personally, I savor the feeling of being alone. Not that I hate company, but sometimes being around too many people overwhelms me. I'm usually in my element either when I'm in the water, alone in my own bedroom (which I no longer have) or in a private corner of a cafe. Not that I can't deal with crowds, I love dressing up, partying and dancing the night away. But awkward conversations and forced interactions are truly not my thing.
But I digress. What I'm simply trying to say is, I enjoy being alone, but loneliness is another matter. And at this point in my life, loneliness has become a constant companion. It's come to the point that I can no longer explain to my friends or folks what it is I'm feeling, because I don't think they would even understand.
In a nutshell, I made this blog because I needed someone to talk to and something to keep me sane. So help me, internet.