E L A I L I M

 

A journal entry from May 2, 2021

Previously lamented being caught up feeling what the New York Times has dubbed as 'languishing'. This awareness has led me to examine my life, and to put things simply, all I ever really needed was a break. I've been working 11-16 hours a day for the last few months, barely getting any sleep. I worked as if I had an entire barangay to provide for. My body would refuse to function at times, which is very counterproductive when you're a slave to capitalism. Gladly, the addition of our new hire has helped free up some of my time.

This past week, my intuition compelled me to watch The Last Dance, a miniseries about Michael Jordan and the 90s Chicago Bulls. I won't summarize it here but my greatest takeaways were how MJ masterfully embodied both grit and flow, how he converted every negative to positive, how living in the NOW is key to success; and how his sense of self, focus, and high standards helped him overcome one mountain after the next. He locks on his target, works on it diligently, trusts the process, and does whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.

I'm way past the stage of glorifying 'idols' because at the end of the day all of us are flawed human beings with maximum capacity for thoughts and feelings, but it is his dedication and work ethic I'd want to emulate for even just a little. Even just a fraction of intensity like Mike's.

Feeling a seemingly inextinguishable blasé at 29 is a dangerous feeling. I can't imagine living the rest of my life like this. It's terrifying just thinking about it—to be a walking and breathing but empty shell until you simply cease to be. Maybe it's the pandemic blues. Maybe it's dysthymia. Or both.

I've always been a 'big picture' kind of person. To overturn this climate of disinterest, and to say that I at least tried to fight the negative current my life seems to be heading towards, I've resolved to pay even more attention to the details.

As seen in the photo, I tried to copy a local coffee shop's centerpiece to style my shelf. Did it work? I can't say I have a knack for it, but I could practice on becoming better.

These pursuits of form don't pay as much as function, but they kinda seem to make life worthwhile despite being counterintuitive to my nature. Is that what I've been missing all this time? A dash of the trivial?

Wise people have reiterated that it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than to be absolutely boring. So wish me luck.

Have you ever lived your life for nearly 29 years when one day, you wake up (oh thank goodness you woke up), realizing—stubborn as people say you are (oh, the irony)—that you have completely lost sense of what makes you happy, what makes you feel alive, what your dreams are, who you really are because of how much you've adjusted to put your environment and the people in it first?

If someone were to ask, "What makes you happy?" You would respond with, "Seeing other people happy is enough for me." Liar. Okay, maybe a half-truth. If someone were to ask, "What do you dream about?" You low-key spiral to madness because you've let go of every semblance of the dreams you used to have.

You've become a doormat. A kind and generous doormat. A people-pleasing, mi casa es su casa kind of doormat. It's almost saccharine, it's—in Filipino—nakakaumay. You're the most stubborn pushover one could ever know. You thought you've got it all together, and you've convinced people to think you've got it all together, but the damned dam broke. You've had enough.

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Have you ever revisited your years-old blog and cringed at every single entry you wrote for the world to see, because you know better now. Not everything, but a few tiers wiser. You want to hug your past self for the outdated perceptions you held onto for eons. But that's growth for you. It is painful and nauseating, but you are in the midst of waking up. You have to be patient and you have to learn to accept it and deal with the pain and the shame. But how are you to deal with the shame? Will you start all over again? (Thank heavens Blogger finally added an Unpublish button.)

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I am currently in a tough place, still trying to figure myself out—as if I haven't been doing exactly that all this time.

Several meltdowns and hours-long conversations with trusted friends later, I realized how broken I've always been, carrying piles of unaddressed issues and traumas under my wing. I've never had a strong sense of self and I barely have any boundaries set because I made myself pliable and malleable and available; because from the very beginning, I believed my existence was a mistake. (It's an important life skill to learn how to choose and believe the narratives we tell ourselves.)

I have allowed others to step on me as long as it makes them happy. But the fault is not entirely theirs because I let them. But then, I didn't know any better. I had the mindset of a victim and a martyr (having been named Dolores—what's in a name?). I took it upon myself to take on the role of sacrificial lamb and  professional overthinker in charge of (over)thinking about/for everyone. I barely demand in the name of selflessness, but deep down, that gnaws at me, and I've had to learn to be good at pretending I'm okay with it. Ugh.

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I thought self-love was getting regular massages, discovering new places, working on myself, living life the way I want to—and maybe those are indeed valid acts of self-love, but not all there is to it. Self-love could be saying no, stop, not anymore. Self-love could be being okay with being deemed selfish without giving a f*ck about it; taking up space, lots of it; carving my own way, if I had to; and discovering what I want, not what other people make me think I want. (I learned there is a term for it—mimesis.)

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So, what about me? For starters, I'll begin to ask this question more often and go from there.

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I've managed to reach a certain point where I am able to choose not to react to situations; to respond as wisely and as tactfully as I can. Up to a certain point. Beyond that, I tend to go rogue and lose all sense of self-control. Everything goes downhill and merely functioning becomes a struggle.

When I think about it, I've consciously avoided putting myself in scenarios that could possibly overwhelm me, especially in the last few years. Everything I do outside my comfort zone is a calculated risk or something I condition myself for some time. Of course I'm not entirely insusceptible from being beset by my feelings or from being perplexed by the irrationality of 90% of things I have no power over; but given the choice, I'd rather be at peace always. So much drama in the past has made any manifestation of brimming emotions slightly, if not totally, off-putting.

Posting these videos from our trip to Singapore back in September 2015. I took them using the VHS Cam app on my phone, hence the deliberate retro quality of the videos. These aren't proper travel vlogs as I was just documenting snippets of the trip.