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

Empty

Every day is a wheel of prevailing emotions; emotions that you couldn’t show to the world; emotions that you’ve learned long enough to hide that already became natural to you.

You work yourself to death and ask yourself why. You begin to wonder about the state of your life. You begin to think that you need change—but you don’t know exactly what you need.

You feel like there are not enough words being said; you no longer feel good about anything.

And then you hear the words you need—but they don’t make you feel like anything.

Maybe, they do, but you cannot hear them clearly.

You could not see them clearly.

Because you’re empty.

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

 

On Depression

Well…I really have no sugary words to cover this up with: I am depressed. My depression is taking over my brain right now, making me feel worse than I already do each day. Not the “blah it’s a sad day” kind, but the debilitating, my world feels like it’s falling apart no matter how I try to make myself happy kind.

The reason why I don’t often talk about this is because I get more messed up when I ask advice from people (and I am still not asking for any), and I’m better at dealing with my own mind on my own. Sometimes, though, I just want to chuck it out of the window.

I’ve come to accept that my depression is probably going to be with me forever—because it is a disease. It isn’t something that depressed people have invented to ask for pity or whatever, but it’s just what it is. When you’re depressed, no matter what you have, no matter how “good” your life is, you’re depressed. Medications help, but at the end of the day, you’re depressed—and you have to deal with it on your own.  When you’re depressed, there’s this big dark cloud above your head, and it rains—and it rains, and it rains.

Some people say you have to think “positive”—but when your depression attacks and makes its way to the surface, and when you’ve had so many days of pretending you’re fine, you kind of become like a vessel that’s really close to overflowing—like you’re just going to explode. And you think of so many things all at once. With me, right now, it’s the following…

1. Feeling so utterly tired with work but have no choice but to work because a 9 to 5 job just wouldn’t suit me (I’ve tried so MANY TIMES already. It never works) I do like what I’m doing…sometimes, I just don’t feel like it’s enough, or I’m enough, or that it matters.
2. Wanting to move
3. Publishing things—but not many people believing in you, and the people you wish would believe in you just don’t do as much (I’d probably cry if I elaborate ha-ha)
4. Asking simple things and not being answered properly…or people being too tired of your questions, when it’s your first time to ask them(!)
5. Being disappointed by some people
6. Being disappointed by yourself
7. Starting things, but being confused
8. Feeling like the way you take care of your pets is not enough; why they sometimes get sick; why you had to lose so many before
9. Feeling unheard
10. Feeling like you’re too much—that you care too much, but when you try not to, you still do
11. Missing home—but having no home to come back to
12. Always feeling not good enough
13. Wishing for this and that

Lalala the list goes on. I’m saying this not because I want people to pity me, but because seriously…my head just feels like it’s about to explode and my heart feels so heavy and I don’t know how to talk to people about these things anymore and it’s my blog lol so whatever.

I guess I’m just tired.

I know it’ll pass. It always does.

But right now, at this moment, I’m just…tired.

Counting On

She looked around quickly, to see if anything had been taken. Dark clouds enveloped her; everything was hazy. She was confused.

She looked around and saw everything was being taken away–every part of herself, being shredded. She couldn’t help but wonder why. She couldn’t help but think about what she may have done wrong—or if that even matters at all.

Because the world takes, and takes, without fail. The world gets too much from you—all the way to your core. The world has broken her; stopped her from being here. The world has taken her innocence, replaced it with hurt. It took away her rose-colored lenses, and replaced it with bashed ones: that is what life has done.

She looked around again, and noticed that while life may be dark, the clouds have moved to make way for a blue sky. She ran towards the blue sky. She fell down, got scathed. She fell, but got up. She walked again.

She turned around. The dark clouds were getting farther and farther away. With a heavy heart, and bloodshot eyes, she smiled.

She knew that little by little, the world will be better again.

And though the black clouds may be looming, she knows that her hope and perseverance would pull her through.

That’s what she’s counting on.

____________________________________________________

A/N: Have been in such a novel-writing rut lately, so I decided to just put out some short writings from prompts. This will just be one of many.

Between who you are and who you could be

Switchfoot - Dare you to Move

"Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
Tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be"

It's been TOO LONG since I last wrote a personal post here and God, I don't even know what to write. Let's see, life's been crazy busy the past couple of months with work, reviews, stories here and there and what-nots and I'm pretty exhausted. 

It's not that I am complaining. I wanted this job and I do love this job, it's just that I've been in such a rut lately and it's not really easy. It's not easy to focus when you feel like you don't know yourself anymore and you have no idea what you are doing or where you are going.

I know it sounds insane to be in this position again and I'd be the first person to tell you how shitty that feels. To feel like you have found your purpose and to feel like suddenly, you have no idea anymore. Maybe, the sadness is eating me up again and maybe, hopefully, sooner or later this'll pass, but right now I guess I have to accept the fact that this is where I am, this is who I am right now and this is how I feel. Maybe, by accepting that this is how I feel and that I am sad again, I'd be able to get past this and move on.

Hopefully sooner rather than later. x

"Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here"

Home

Sometimes I tell myself not to crumble, not to fall.
I tell myself to keep on holding myself up; not to fall back from grace; to stay still.
Sometimes it's hard.

Sometimes, I wish I could somehow go back.
But there's nothing to come back to anymore.

If I do, it would all be the same.
If I do, then this year would've been nothing.

Because, even if I somehow yearn for that place,
nothing's just the same anymore.

Cheer up, child. Don't crumble. Don't quit.

Lightweight.

It's one of those nights again.
Nights when my mind goes haywire; when I feel like nothing's right in the world; When I don't feel good about myself.

Days when life feels like shit.
Days when I just want to be whisked away somewhere. I don't know where.