On Facebook…and the need for “Likes”

So, so, so this the second part of my crazy rant last week (and maybe you can tell from my tone that I’m somehow feeling better now), but there are a few points I left and basically it all leads to this…

I kind of don’t want to be active on Facebook anymore because of the whole “I live for likes” thing. See, our society now is so obsessed with likes—and I guess, I feel guilty about it, too. And it also got to the point where it got so toxic because of the whole brouhaha about the elections and it was too much. Just too much.

Now, back to the “likes” and the NEED for them. Seriously, it’s toxic. And I know because even subconsciously, I fed on that for a while. When you post something, it’s like, let’s see who likes this, etc. Sure, you want to say your opinion, but come on, look at your feed. Check what’s going on. Check what people around you have been saying. It’s like…even simple things could be turned into a big deal simply because people want to state their long opinions every.single.time and it gets so nauseating and you feel compelled to compete, especially when you’re such an overachiever eager beaver (yeah, yeah, yeah me) and then one day, you’d just get to the point where in you’d feel…wait a minute. Why do I care so much? Do I really care this much?

It’s just that…you shouldn’t let yourself be defined by “likes”. And this is what I’m trying to wrap my head around again.

There were also moments in the past when I felt like…HUH. I had a much better post than this person and this person is getting way more likes, etc. I guess we’re all guilty of this, but then you get to realize that society feeds on popularity. It’s a bandwagoning thing. Like, (why am I using like so many times? I sound like a Kardashian lmao) because this person is supposed to be “beautiful”, or “popular”, it automatically means that this person’s posts would be liked right away. And that kind of thought eats at you, especially when you’re going through other things, and you begin to nitpick every single thing you believe is wrong with your life. And it is super unhealthy.

Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m giving up on social media altogether—helloooo, I can’t do that lol. Twitter’s home (and it’s where I met some of the bestest people ever especially Twitter friends circa 2010!!!!), and I still enjoy Instagram but Facebook…ugh. Every time I open it, this surge of anxiety just goes through me. I gave up Tumblr months ago when it also became toxic (although it was my home for years), but it was just too much and it was becoming so mainstream (!!!!) and it just does not work for me anymore the way it used to. Anyway, what I’m saying is that it’s okay to cut some things out of your life. It’s okay not to “compete”. It’s okay to take some time off from Facebook (try it!) and not care so much and just be in a place where you feel okay—where you feel like you can try to find yourself again, and become a better, hopefully stronger version of you. It’s okay to like what you like and not say your opinion just because everyone else is giving theirs. It’s okay to think on your own, and give proper opinions instead of comment on anything and everything just so you’d be “sikat” or so you’d sound so intelligent. But it’s also okay to voice your opinions out. To each his own.

And also…I seriously don’t want to deal with fake people anymore (not all, but there are a couple and it’s just not worth it to give your time and effort for people who don’t care)

I guess I’m just tired of it at the moment but I’d probably get back some other time, but it’s also quite refreshing to be away from it for a while—it’s the closest thing you can get in place of a vacation!

And also…there’s more to life than caring for events that don’t really make you feel good anymore. There is a time to rest, even from your passions—you still have them inside you, after all, and you can always dream new dreams, and you can get back to them when you feel like you’re ready. Not when you’re tired and tired and tired. Work on your own pace, this is what I keep reminding myself now.

And another also…yesterday, I was really devastated to hear about the death of Christina Grimmie. She was just so young—so young, so eager to live, so full of life…she had so much to give. And it’s just sad it was just taken away from her too soon. You just never know what’s going to happen anymore so just live life the best way you could, the way you know how, but don’t hurt or kill others in the process.

Life is so unpredictable these days, so you better chuck the negativity out (I mean, of course, I’d get mad every now and then, and I still have all my issues, but you know…) and just try to find yourself again. I’m on the process.

There are already so many evil people in the world—don’t be one to yourself. Share your story. Help yourself heal.

There’s this song that I often listen to these days—and it’s so beautiful, and it’s called Showing Up by Alex G. Here’s a link, and the lyrics are below…

I used to be so mean to myself

I am my own worst enemy

I used to hide my truth

From you

I can’t remember what it feels like

To come out of hiding

I-I-I-I’m ready

 

Coming out of the shadows like I’m enough

Loving every bit of the real I got

Every inch of my messy is beautiful

Something truly courageous in showing up

Singing

I-I-I-I’m showing up

 

I’ve never measured up

To my rules

My little, careful calculations

They shattered at the sight

Of my roof

That every thought could be loved by

You-ou-ou-ou

I’m not afraid now

I-I-I-I’m…

 

Coming out of the shadows like I’m enough

Loving every bit of the real I got

Every inch of my messy is beautiful

Something truly courageous in showing up

Singing

I-I-I-I’m showing up

 

No more believing I’m gonna need a little more than I got

Done over thinking every reason I gotta sit and watch

[x3]

 

Coming out of the shadows like I’m enough

Loving every bit of the real I got

Every inch of my messy is beautiful

Something truly courageous in showing up

Singing

Oo-oo-oo-oo I’m ready

I-I-I-I’m showing up

That’s all for now. Be back soon with more personal posts! Xx

 

On Fake People, Things I Hate, and Why I’m Not Around

Have you ever gotten to the point where you felt like almost everything and everyone around you is fake? Like, you just woke up one morning and you felt so overwhelmed about everything that you had to stand back a bit?

Well, that’s what’s been happening to me lately.

If you’ve been reading this blog, or have been talking to me deeply, you would know that my depression isn’t a secret. Well, recently it has been really, really, really bad.

Let’s see…Well, this started 2 Mondays ago when I felt like…oops. Wow. Are these really the people in my life now? How did I get to the point where I thought that the friends I have now are actually “real”, when well…it doesn’t really seem like they are. Even if you’re actually just being there for them. I didn’t like the thought that these people felt like I was wasting their time and space because uhm, hello, look at our chat history, people. Look at our history, period. There, I said it.

I’ve also gotten to that point in my life when I feel like…everything’s happening so fast, and yet it’s all too slow…you know what I’m saying? Don’t worry if you’re confused. I confuse myself a lot, too. But, anyway…let’s just say that when you’re in your late 20s and you feel like “nothing is happening in your life”, well…it sucks. And it sucks bad.

Normally, it does not affect me, but I guess there really are moments in life when you feel like you have no idea what you’re waiting for anymore. And it doesn’t matter whether it’s about your career, your relationships, whatever. It’s hard when you get to that point, but then when you look back and think about the alternative…it’s like, you have no idea where you’re going to go, and you certainly don’t want to go back. So, what would you do, right?

And then I suffered two losses in the past two weeks. You know when people say they’re tired because school is tiring, work is tiring, etc? Well, I’m tired because of all these losses and mishaps. And believe me, these things become normal to you when you’re used to them, but there also comes a time when you just get so tired. So, so, so tired.

I’ve been wanting to write this for a while, but the thing about me is whenever I get these overwhelming moments, I really get overwhelmed. And I’ve no idea how to write it all down anymore.

So, maybe this’ll be too negative, but maybe, that’s the only way for me to let it go.

I hate the fact that I lost one of my dogs. And I can’t talk about it because it kills me.

I hate the fact that I lost my tablet (I know it’s shallow, but…)

I hate the fact that no one seems to read what I write. I don’t even want to write fiction anymore. I have all these ideas in my head, and I still get requests from former fanfic readers from time to time, but you know…generally, when I put out all those books last year, I just felt like I never really got the support I needed. And wanted (because seriously, who does not want support?). And it sucks when you see people who don’t work hard as much as you do get all the support—even when their works are just mediocre. It’s hard when you don’t get the chance you know you deserve. It hurts when you actually get that chance but it doesn’t make you feel like anything because no one is around to support you. I don’t even want to read this stupid book (a compilation I’m part of) that arrived in my door because it pains me. And believe me, I know how unfair life is, and I know this sounds like I’m such a brat but I never talk about this so whatever. I hate it when answers take months and years to come. I can wait, but how long is too long? And how much is too much?

I hate it when I feel like work is being monotonous. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough, or I’m not getting enough, or whatever.

I hate not having real friends, maybe because I’ve mostly pushed people away, but what can I do? I really can’t stand people who have disappointed me or hurt me. I seriously have none of that plasticity or whatever you call that thing where you still talk to people you hate or have done you wrong even when you do not like them at all. When you’re cut off, you’re cut off. Done and done. Last week, when I was asking for help, only two people went out of their way to reach out—Jehan and Bea. And if you’re reading this, thank you girls. See, it’s like out of the sea of people in your life, you don’t really have anyone. And that sucks.

But anyway, I chanced upon my Facebook a couple of days ago. I deactivated it so I don’t know why it’s working, and still not using it the way I used to because it seriously gives me the creeps now. And well, I saw messages from some friends, specifically Nina and Alyssa. Sorry for not replying. Sorry for not being strong enough to come back yet. But I appreciate it. I really do.

I hate waiting for that ring on my finger. I don’t know, I don’t even want to deal with people on my wedding day if that’s going to happen, but maybe I just like the idea of “getting married” even if I’m actually in a stable relationship because when you see people around you getting married, it sucks, and yeah I’m still that romantic girl deep down even though I buried her in so much control now. (Uhm, it’s the time of the month so maybe screw this? But maybe no, because it’s real)

I hate friends who say “I’m a busy mom, how are you?” UHM, like I care? I still don’t want kids, nope. And I’m good with my cats and dogs, thank you.

I hate missing my family but when I look back on all the years of abuse—abuse that most of them deny because yeah, my brothers never really felt that—it sucks. It sucks. It sucks. I hate missing them. I hate wanting to check on them or wanting to visit because I know nothing has changed and it will just break my heart if I do. But of course, no matter how screwed up your family is, you’d still miss them, even just a bit. Just imagine not having anyone to come back to. It sucks.

I hate still having these fits of depression and anxiety and the feeling that you want to hurt yourself (sadly, I have relapsed and am doing so at times). I hate going back to that 9 year old girl who hurt herself because no one is around for her.

I hate not having a proper home. I won’t elaborate but yeah.

I hate feeling like I have no proper “roots” because at times, I still think about how it would be like to meet my real dad even though the times I tried to find him, I just got severely disappointed.

I hate not being enough.

I hate the stupid arguments, and not being understood.

Again, I hate not being enough.

Or maybe, I hate being too much.

Maybe, I should talk about these things more, little by little.

Maybe, I’d have clarity then. Maybe, not.

It’s just a cycle.

 

So, I don’t really know what I’m talking about anymore, but this felt somewhat cathartic. Maybe I’ll be fine. Maybe, I won’t. I’d always pull through, anyway.

Right now, I’m just tired.

 

 

 

 

 

Too Much to Ask

When you were old enough to understand the harsh realities of life, you realized that losses were inevitable. You can love someone or something and in an instant, they could be taken away from you.

Then you grow up, grow old, and the losses just keep on happening. They keep on happening that you begin to question what is it that you did wrong. You question why the universe is keen on taking what you love away from you, when you know you have taken care of them with all your heart, and that you did everything you can to keep them safe; protected.

There comes a point when you have already cried too many tears for all your losses that when another one happens, you tend to lose the ability to cry—but you do not lose the ability to hurt. You hurt so bad that you just want the world to stop. You hurt so bad that you try to replay the situation in your head to justify it; try to see how is that that within seconds, you could lose something you love when things seemed normal; fine; going well.

You want the pain to stop but you have no idea how.

You want to keep on hoping that this won’t happen again, but you’re scared now.

 

Maybe, there really comes a time when you don’t want losses to happen anymore—even though that seems impossible.

But is it too much to ask the world to just be sane for you, even for a while? For the heartbreaks to stop? For the hurt not to linger?

Is it too much?

 

 

“Sometimes I think the human heart is just a simple shelf. There is only so much you can pile onto it before something falls off an edge and you are left to pick up the pieces.”
― Jodi Picoult, House Rules

Four

1

For four years I’ve wondered what it would be like to share my life with someone again. There were many mishaps; many misshapen turns. I. I have crashed and burned so many times. I have fallen hard, and realized that skinned knees were better than broken hearts; that love doesn’t come easy; that just because you think you feel something does not mean the other person feels it, too.

I was deadest on spending the rest of my life alone. I was fine with it. I was tired. To be honest, I did not think much of you before—then you came crashing back into my life, and changed it in more ways than one. From Clementine erasing Joel from her mind, Elvis and Anabelle saving each other, to reading that shady, crazy book—we shared the most profound memories; we laughed, had adventures, started something—whatever it was. Because really, it didn’t have a name for a while. But that didn’t matter.

You often told me how much you loved me. You wrote poems and musings that no one ever did for me, and it scared me. It scared me because I knew that if I gave my heart away, I would give all of it.

But isn’t that what love’s supposed to be about? Or so they say.

For years, I thought life was just going to be the way it was—mornings spent alone, watching endless movies and television shows, going to bed late, late at night with no hand to hold.

I was filled with lies, and I consumed them. I lived in them. I became a huge walking lie until one day, we both decided it had to end. It was not easy, but it was our choice.

It was far, far from my fairytale. But it was our story. And I liked it that way.

2

We had fun—and that would be an understatement.

Late nights in the city, the rain on our faces, our bodies drenched but our hearts happy. Days walking in the park, under the trees, under the stars. All those dreams we shared. All the memories we made.

I was so used to being alone, but then I realized there’s warmth that stuffed bears and bunnies wouldn’t give. There’s a certain kind of happiness that comes from laying next to the one you love, even when you just hold hands and listen to your own breaths; the kind that makes you want to stay in bed. The kind that makes you realize what home is.

They say that when love is good, it is magic. And it’s true: days become better, nights no longer feel lonely. You have someone who’s your other half, not because both of you are broken, but because you’re whole enough to share your life with someone else. And that in itself is magical—more than any other magic can bring.

We built our own furry family, we tried to enjoy life with whatever we had.

We were living our life, and we thought that was enough.

3

There comes a time in relationships when you begin to question things. You wonder who started it all; you wonder if it matters; you wonder if this is what it’s supposed to be. It happens. It cannot be helped.

I was used to being alone, so I had to struggle being surrounded by people all the time. At times you think I didn’t try. But I did. But like most of the things in my life, it just wouldn’t fit. But you did, no matter how different we are—and would always be. Some things just would not change.

From all our happy days stemmed days when fights and arguments became prevalent. When tears do not seem enough to convey the pain; when shouts and screams don’t seem enough to end the noise inside.

There are days when I know we’re both confused. Is it possible that you still love each other when there are days that you just want to end it? Or is it just in your head?

They say that love is not always enough. And it’s true.

Love isn’t always enough to cover certain things that hurt. Love is not always enough to let each day pass by.

But then again…do you really wish for the alternative?

4

Four years tomorrow. Four years now.

Sometimes, you do not even feel the years anymore.

Nothing is perfect, of this I am sure.

Sometimes, I would sit and wonder exactly when things have changed, because I know I have. And you have, too. It makes me wonder about that first year, when we were both so positive; when no matter how I’ve seen the harsh realities of life, my idealism was still there.

You often tell me that you miss that person; the person I used to be.

What I don’t tell you is that I miss the part of the person you were, too. What I don’t tell you is that I miss the person I’ve been, too. I don’t know where she went, but I believe she’s still there.

I miss who we’ve been.

Because relationships are one thing—but love is another.

 

Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, they say. So take my hand. Let’s not fail.

 

 

Doors

When she opened the door, she wished.

She wished for long, cold nights

For a healthy heart

She wished for the sweet smell of flowers

The drizzle of the rain

She wished for a clean mind

A clean slate

She wished for contentment

Without losing the will to dream

She wished for a good life

And the strength to deal with the bad

When she opened the door, she found

She found a reason to live

With her hopes and wishes came strength

And it was enough

Enough to make her stay

 

6 Years Ago…

You know what this week means? Well, this week is actually 6 years (if I remember correctly, I mean, if it isn’t this week, it’s the next ha-ha) since I graduated from college UGH I AM OLD. No, seriously, though…sometimes, you just get these bursts of memories and you tend to reflect on how much you have changed since then.

I’m not going to lie: back then, I thought I knew everything already. I thought it was going to be easy—or at least, easier than I thought. If you knew me back then, you’d say I actually have it all figured out. My yearbook even says that I’m going to be the next Pia Guanio (I know, I know)! I kind of was excited for what life could bring. I thought I’d easily be okay.

Here’s the thing: I took broadcasting in college, but before that I stopped studying the year after High School ended because (hmm, you probably know by now) of Depression. That was 2005, and come 2006, I thought I was already fine (conventional family; these things should end—just.like.that.), so I went back to school and well, college was pretty good to me. It was my comfort zone. I had friends everywhere. I was even President of our org once, was part of the Honors Society, the student council, was hosting our in-school radio show, organized benefit concerts and car shows—in short, I was acing both my academics and my social life, so I was pretty fine (except for times when my heart was broken! HA!)

But then, on my junior year, I had this internship at a TV Network and it made me feel like, “waiiiiit…this probably isn’t the right thing for me to do”. I remember my friend and I even had a conversation with one of the network’s directors once and she said that we should ask ourselves if it was really what we wanted. But well, I’m kind of the queen of lying to myself then so I thought, the feelings of confusion are going to pass. I wanted to shift at that point, but I thought it was too late, so I continued, and soon, I was already about to graduate.

Before that, though, I remember my friends and I had this conversation about our expectations after college, and one of them said she was scared. She was scared of starting again—of finding her place in the world. Well, I was kind of the mother hen of the group, too, so I said, we’ll all be okay and we’ll find our places in the world.

So, fast forward to what happened after graduation: I can still remember how 2 weeks after grad, I was already being pressured to find work—and it was then that I realized how easy the generations before us had it: how they easily found work—how it was just “easy”, period.

Anyway, I was still one of the first ones in our batch who found work, but well…it just didn’t work for me. I felt like crying in the office each day, wanting to go home when I’m done with my responsibilities for the day.  I felt like I could not fit in, so I resigned, and of course, my parents were disappointed. Who wouldn’t be? To them, I was this High School Salutatorian and College Dean’s Lister WHO COULD NOT MAKE UP HER MIND. And it was wrong. And I understood, but the thing was…I just could not fit in. I just could not be myself. And that was hard.

So, well, I was jobless for months—and my god, I couldn’t even begin to tell you how depressed I was back then; how the words really pierced my soul and made me feel like I was worthless.

I then went from job to job but long story short: I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give my best. I always got sick. I literally felt like killing myself to the point that I became such a liar. I lied about going to work, even when I didn’t. I lied, I lied, I lied—and my life become literally a toxic lie.

And when those things happen, you really have to make tough decisions—and really take control of your life.

All I’m saying is…life after graduation? It isn’t as easy as it seems. Maybe, some would have it easy—and that’s good. But it doesn’t happen for everyone. Getting what you want takes time, and you really do have to have tough skin for it. You have to help yourself. You have to make your own decisions. You have to fall down to the pits so you could rise up again. You have to—as cheesy as this sounds—hold on to your passion. You have to give yourself the chance to dream new dreams—and work for the ones you really believe in. You just have to do something with your life, whatever that means.

Do I like the person I’ve become? Well, to be honest, there are times when I don’t, but mostly, I do. Because I know that I worked hard for what I have now—and I am working hard for what I could still have. I may not be the same girl in those pictures anymore, but I guess, that’s good. You change as you grow. You change as you go.

“I love the woman I’ve become. I fought hard to become her.” –Kaci Diane

Sleep is for the weak

I don't know what's wrong with me these days. I can't sleep, I can't eat much. Sometimes I'd rather not eat, and when I get so hungry and grab something to eat, I end up throwing up...No, not on purpose. I also have these terrible headaches and these backpains, oh my god, they're killin' me. Signs of aging, eh? I really just haven't been feeling like myself lately...

***

You know, sometimes I think that it's really pointless to fight for something that you know will just backfire. It's frustrating to voice out your opinions, to stand by people when they're hurting and then when they're okay, JUST LIKE THAT, it's like, your opinions, your pain did not matter anymore. I've been on the losing end of this so many times so it's just...freaking frustrating. Again, the non-perks of caring too much.

***

A few days ago, I read a horoscope of mine that says that "You had your reasons. Don't question what you have or where you are now". And I know, I did, it's just that sometimes...Oh well...

***

Anyway...I brought some stuff today, nail-art and all that. Cheers? :)