- Going into my second month in stan twitter, I am beginning to understand how easily people throw words as defense when they feel threatened. In every argument, they feel that they must win and reign superior over the other party to feel a sense of justice. However, as the argument presses on, wounds go deeper and more difficult to heal. The hunger of retribution sharpens. It is a never ending cycle of giving and receiving pain. And all of this stems on pride. The inability to be accountable. The decision not to acknowledge faults. The repressed anger bubbling under retorts.
- Forgiveness is such a wonder. An art form, really. There is a ritual – a routine – for every person to attain it. This personal ritual must be respected. An offender has no right to dictate when the pain ends. Time and space are important steps.
- To walk on a flower path is to walk into every season. It is the acceptance that spring days evolve into summer-filled afternoons and the wind will become colder and colder until it is hard to progress. This is the rule of nature and time. Maturity comes and makes us more refined. The denial that things will stay in bloom forever is childish and a daydream one must wake up from.
- Death is the only time we will stop balancing ourselves between the good and evil extremes of each value we keep.
- I miss philosophy classes.
- I think I am out of my recent depression episode.
- Love, after the infatuation runs out, is a difficult or easy choice to make. It depends on how one wakes up in the morning.
- With my month-long reflection, I realized that I still do desire to establish myself in another country. It’ll be hard but the challenges excite me. This will take a long, long time.
- The love of my life is the group of kids I taught back in my first university.
- After all this time, always in all ways, for the kids.
- My new back brace makes me feel like a robot.
Perhaps the most recurrent theme of this depression cycle is ‘searching’. I craved to be alone most of the time to listen to music, to write down thoughts, and to embrace all the privacy I can get. I knew that my way out isn’t through the help of people this time.
Somewhere along this year, I lost my sense of self. I lost a part of my identity in my fight to be alive. I became someone’s advocate, another’s girlfriend, a daughter, a friend, a patient etc. But all these did not mesh together well. I did not know the sum of my parts. I ended up being more broken.
As such, I’m using this restlessness to provoke me to do self-care and to feel something, anything, as me for me. To find out once again what I like, what I love. To find why I’m trying so hard to have more time here. To search who I want to become.
Hola, interwebs! 🙂
Recently, I’ve had the random realization that I don’t want to marry nor to have my own family in my twenties. It’s not just a sudden thought or decision that has no foundation underneath it. It’s because I think I haven’t fully enjoyed my youth. With my past childhood trauma and my health going haywire right after my university graduation, you can bet the I spent most of my puberty and teens either crying my butt off or trying not to get hospitalized (yet again).
I’ve been composing, writing, crafting, and fangirling (BANGTAN SONYEONDAN!) my days while slowly recovering since last week. I’m surrounded with the type of quiet I love and even in the midst of my depression cycle, I can say I’m having “fun”. And I want more days like these (minus the depression).
This is not to say that I am awfully discontented with how my life is going. I’m not. I’m making peace with what I have and trying to make the best out of it. It’s just that there are adventures I’ve yet to take and I’d rather go alone.
Hiya, interwebs. It’s been a month since I blogged BUT I’m here now. Today, I’ll be talking about weight.
Ever since I was born, my built is not skewed towards the skinny type. I was just okay, appearance-wise, and I never became obese. Still, I got called fatty all my life. It used to upset me so much that I never upload whole body pictures of me unless I thought I looked thin in them. I was so afraid of the judgments and comments.
When I became sicker, this insecurity came rearing back from the dead. My weight fluctuated a lot because of my medicines (and now because of my gastrointestinal illnesses. My illness count is now at 9.) In fact, an acquaintance told me that “I look “healthy” aka chubby for someone who is seriously sick.” It was a hard slap of reality on the face…
…because F*CK beauty standards. Weight does not judge someone’s beauty. I’ve had enough. No more.
Looking back, I thought there was something wrong with me. I didn’t look like the models and the artists I saw on TV, IG, and other media. I wasn’t size 2 or 4. At my skinniest, I was a size 6 or 8 due to my health condition. I remember getting compliments about it and thinking that the society must be shitting me. I was in pain and yet I get praised for it?!
So, to the people reading this blog, please remember:
Your worth as a person can’t be weighed on a numbered weighing scale. Do not based your values on society’s norms because society sets up some rules that are wrong anyway. If there is something you should care about regarding weight, it should be your BMI.
You are more than numbers.
We aspire for healthy.
Your worth is inherent.
You deserve to be loved – your body, your heart, your mind – all of you.
You are beautiful.
Someone asked me days ago if I am afraid of dying and where my will to live comes from. Here’s my answer:
When I was 11, I told a close friend what I want for my funeral: no black and white clothes, some flowers, cremation, and to be buried under a tree. To my young self, my demise is a celebration.
I still hold the same wishes and belief today.
There is a different kind of peace and acceptance when I finally acknowledged that I am more vulnerable to death than others. After being on the brink for the nth time last January, I have conditioned myself to end everyday in a good way. I never know when my illnesses will strike me hardest.
I guess this is where part of my ‘strength’ comes from , the knowing that everything is finite and every morning I wake up is some kind of miracle itself. I’d like to think it made me see life in a new light that not even my bipolar disorder can affect. Since death is inevitable (for everyone, actually. It is the great equalizer of men.), I decided to live as purposefully as possible without taking it too seriously.
Until the last day of the some kind of miracle happens, I’ll keep on loving and moving. I only have the present. When God decides it is time, I will accept wholeheartedly. It has been a wonderful life.
It’s a new term at my university. I am currently adjusting to the workload and /mountain/ of requirements. In fact, for one of my subjects, I am required to record all of my reflections on an e-journal. As such, I created a new wordpress dedicated on theories of learning and education.
For my first post, one of the prompts given is the kind of teacher I envision to be after graduating my course. In summary, I wrote how it is not “possible” for me to be a “teacher” in the first place.
Want to know my explanation? Visit my journal at this site: kabibengdagatlearns.wordpress.com 🙂
Your social media posts about Kadamay’s situation have revealed how much you haven’t been checking your privilege. I smell the irritation between your words and the insecurity behind your statements. Let’s check our facts first before I continue this short letter of reminder:
- Kadamay did take over the idle housing units in Pandi, Bulacan. These housing units were intended for the police and military men’s families. (Reyes-Estrope, 2017)
- The said group has stated that the idle housing units were left vacant because the offices of the police and the military are too far from them. (Reyes-Estrope, 2017)
- Kadamay has declared since August 30, 2016 (read original post here), these pleas to the government. I did the liberty of translating them to English in case your Filipino sucks (which you should improve!):
- Free housing distribution. Stop the monthly amortization and the service housing business.
- Create an industry that will make the contractual Kadamay employees regular, with a minimum wage of P750 per day,
- Working water and electricity lines to the said housing units. Make sure that the water supply is potable and people will pay a minimum monthly fee for it. Remove the reconnection fee of electricity lines.
- Presence of a nearby 24 hour hospital that has complete facilities, a health center, ample amount of ambulances, a drainage system, and a garbage collection system.
- Give to the relocatees the financial assistance they never received with the amount of 18K for houses that were demolished in the danger areas.
- Give housing units to those that are living with the relocatees e.g. the extended families.
- Uphold the benefits of the senior citizens, PWDs, and single parents living in the relocation area.
- Presence of a working livelihood program for those whose living is affected during typhoon/monsoon season.
I don’t know about you but these “demands” are basic – the ones that every individual should have in order to live a quality life. These are NEEDS. We have these in our little, privileged world everyday that we overlook how these are so inaccessible to them, the poor. See how they are stating the need for an INDUSTRY FULL OF OPPORTUNITIES and not, as what some news reports say, for jobs? Read how they are stating the need for reliable water and electricity lines, and NOT FREE water and electricity supplies?
Are you surprised how these people can form a group and do something about their situation even exhibiting as what our colleagues call, “lawlessness”? Put yourself in their shoes. What are you willing to do when your former house has been demolished for months (or even years!), your workplace, where you are a contractual worker, is now so far from your supposed relocation, your family has no steady access to safe drinking water and electricity, your 65 year-old mother is not receiving her benefits, your partner’s livelihood perishes every time a typhoon comes, and the government has yet to help you, despite waiting patiently and ardently?
They are not the lazy ones. Guess who truly is/are.
Reyes-Estrope, C. (2017, March 18). Group Kadamay shifts campaign to take over idle units to housing project in Bocaue town. Retrieved April 22, 2017, from http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/881695/group-kadamay-shifts-campaign-to-take-over-idle-units-to-housing-project-in-bocaue-town