My Scattered Journal

just a place where i can write things down. i don’t post on any schedule. i write when i need to. sometimes it’s grief, sometimes it’s work, sometimes i’m just trying to understand my own thoughts. not here for likes or followers, but if you’re reading this.....hey. maybe we both needed the quiet.

[myscatteredjournal]

Hey, It’s Okay, You’ll Get Back Up

Five days strong, then whoops. Still, five days is five days. That counts. Tonight’s slip is not the end, just a bend in the road.

Hey, it’s okay. You slipped tonight. That does not erase the work. It shifts the angle of the path. You have been in tougher places and you know how to climb back.

You also know why it happened. The gap before your third dose of meds ran too long. You tried to surf the dopamine from reflections and small wins. It worked for the second dose. The third hits different. When the energy drops there, the coping rules you built can wobble like old wood. That structure was not built in a day. It grew from family expectations, school pressure, career highs and dips. It has held you through pressure and praise.

Then the laptop stayed open after 4 PM. You planned to do trackers while watching Drag Race with him, but low energy plus easy access pulled you into validation hunting online. That spiral was not random. You know the roots. Both sides of your family were the poorest among their relatives. Your parents worked to prove themselves. That drive to be worthy landed on you, the eldest. When looks and achievements brought praise, the loop got stronger. When career praise thinned out, daydreaming and social media filled the gap.

The wiring lit up tonight. That is true. Another truth is you have been learning how to steer.

Next time, remember:

If the third dose gap is too long, skip multitasking. Low energy means light, grounding activities.

After 4 PM, if it is bonding time, keep it just that. Laptop closed.

Set your space before low energy hours. No open tabs, no feeds that trigger comparison.

If you want validation, pick safer sources. Lie next to him, watch the show, share reactions.

For food, adjust portions and calories instead of going all or nothing.

For games, lore videos are fine. Skip gameplay that tempts pulls.

For porn triggers, choose real connection with your partner over escape.

For social media, avoid rooms that breed comparison or body envy.

If focus will not come, choose resets that ground you. Rest, plan your week, take a cold shower or simply be present.

You do not need punishment. You are not only breaking habits. You are taking apart an old scaffolding, beam by beam. It took years to build. It will take time to retire. Every time you resist, another joint loosens. One day it will not hold.

Tomorrow is not a test of perfection. It is a steady hand on the frame. Show up, breathe, build the stronger version.

[myscatteredjournal]

Learning to See What I Did Right

Five days without my addictions. Five days of showing up, even when it wasn’t perfect. It’s not about a flawless streak. It’s about building wins that last.

Some mornings, ADHD makes it feel like my brain is running two competing to-do lists. One for the things I planned to do, and another for the things I end up doing instead. Today was one of those days.

I woke up early, ready to start a deep work session for tasks I can’t do in a busy office. But somewhere between opening my laptop and looking at my notes, I slipped into personal errands. The frustrating part is, I know why it happens. Evenings are short because I sleep early to sustain my early mornings, so personal matters get pushed into my deep work hours. It makes sense in the moment, but it chips away at time I need for the work that matters most.

The other challenge is emotional control. ADHD doesn’t just scatter my attention. It can make me a prisoner of my feelings. If I’m excited about a task, I fly through it. If I feel resistance, I stall. Some days medication helps me find that emotional neutral ground where I can move forward without mood dictating my choices. Other days, I feel the drag.

But here’s what I often forget. Even on the days where I feel I’ve failed my plan, I’m still building wins. I’ve gone five days without falling back into my addictions. No gacha gaming like Genshin or Honkai Star Rail. No social media scrolling except for career-related updates. No porn. Less emotional escape through maladaptive daydreaming. Fewer impulsive food choices. I’ve stuck to my diet. I’ve kept showing up for deep work sessions even when they weren’t perfect.

There are other wins too. I showed up to a meeting recently where I had to answer questions on the spot, and I did. I prepared everything I needed for the next day before going to bed, something I normally leave for a last-minute scramble. I’m making small but steady progress toward my goals.

The problem is, I tend to focus on what I didn’t do. The unchecked tasks. The missed gym session. The “easy” email I delayed sending. I give those moments the spotlight, and the wins fade into the background.

So maybe the work right now isn’t just about managing time or focus. Maybe it’s also about training myself to see the progress I’ve made, even if it’s not perfect, even if I wish it looked different. Because when I zoom out, I see more than skipped workouts and delayed emails. I see small steps stacking into something bigger.

And for that, I’m grateful.

[myscatteredjournal]

Burning Old Journals – Volume 1

Six Packs, Stalled Papers, and Scattered Pages

I have written a lot of cringe journals in my life. They are scattered across random notebooks, planners, and even on scraps of paper. I have decided to burn them all. Before I do, I am preserving them here, heavily edited to be less cringy so I can still look back and enjoy them. I hope my family and future kids find these one day and have as much fun reading them as I am having rewriting them.

Journal Entries

October 10, 2018 Purely a work and school task list. My day was spent editing my master’s thesis, preparing a presentation, and dealing with environmental compliance and management system tasks. No personal thoughts here.

October 13, 2018 A day filled with project updates, technical work, and travel. I wrote this entry mid-flight over the Philippines, unsure but optimistic about the days ahead. I ended with a pep talk to myself:

Dear Past Self, This is a big week for you and you will remember it for the right reasons. You have your first big talk coming up and you should own it. You still have two days to prepare, so use the time well and do not stress yourself out. You are going to do well. The work you left behind will still be there when you return. Check in when you can, but do not let it take your focus away. Think about where you are heading, because it is going to be worth it.

October 17, 2018 Class notes for a business school assignment. Just bullet points for a Harley Davidson SWOT analysis.

October 19, 2018 Travel day from Narita Airport back home. I was motivated and determined to graduate in January, push for promotion, apply for another degree, and finally get a six pack by the first quarter of 2019. I followed this with a 2019 plan that blended career advancement, finances, fitness, and personal growth. The abs goal came up more than once.

February 21, 2024 I felt “alright” but carried work anxiety and dissertation pressure. I wondered if my avoidance was a trauma response. I watched coping videos but still replayed criticisms in my head. I ended with a note about facing people over financial matters and still managed to list my work deliverables for the day.

February 20, 2024 All work-focused. Engineering project updates, nothing personal.

Context

In 2018, I was working in the water industry in operations, while also handling environmental compliance and management system roles. This was after a long detour in the food industry, where I had been about to be assigned to run a manufacturing plant abroad. It might have been a promotion, but it was not the path I wanted. Managing almost a thousand people in a language I did not speak fluently was not appealing. I wanted to work in environmental engineering, not food manufacturing.

After leaving the food industry in 2016, I spent almost a year unemployed, which was a strange and humbling time. I had trouble finding work in environmental engineering. I was often seen as overqualified for entry level roles and underqualified for senior ones because my experience was in food. When I finally got an offer in the water industry, even if it was still in operations and at a lower level, I took it because it aligned with my long-term goals.

By October 2018, I was also in the middle of my master’s thesis while trying for an international scholarship. At the same time, I was sent to Japan for my first international speaking engagement. It was strictly work-related. I was chosen simply because I was the right person for the job. That trip was a big moment for me. I have always had anxiety about speaking in public, and doing it in front of an audience of foreign academics was intimidating. There is a stereotype that Filipinos cannot keep up with foreign academics. At the time I believed that a little, because it is what you hear people say. Standing there and delivering my talk, I realised it was not true. We can go toe to toe with anyone. That is still something I am proud of today.

Mixed into all of this was a subtle quarter life crisis. Many of my college batchmates were already in high paying jobs here and abroad. Others were doing their master’s degrees abroad, where they eventually landed high paying roles too. I was close to my fitness goals as well. At 80 kg, just a few away from my ideal weight, my lines were already showing. I was almost there.

By 2024, I was in a higher management role in the water industry, one I had agreed to only under the condition that I would not be managing a large team. The title caused some confusion, which led to more pressure than I expected. I was also trying to restart my PhD dissertation, which had been frozen since 2022 after a round of heavy criticism that left me stuck.

Present-Day Reflection

It is funny to read back and see how intense I was about the six pack goal. Back then it was a fitness challenge. Now it is almost symbolic. At 100 kg today, I am far from that 2018 version of myself, but the drive is still there. Part of it is personal pride. Part of it is the reality that in the gay community, body image is a big deal. I have never touched a set of abs in my life, so maybe it is about finally touching mine.

Some things have changed. I am no longer avoiding leadership roles. I understand my capacity to lead now, though I still prefer technical work. Some things have stayed the same, like the dissertation anxiety. Back then, the PhD was partly a way to make up for what I saw as a lack of financial achievement. Now I can see it is just another goal to prove to myself that I can finish something that matters to me.

Looking at these pages, it is clear my journals are as scattered as my thoughts. One page has a heartfelt reflection, the next is filled with project deadlines, and the next is a random business school assignment. I think that is why this project of rewriting and burning them is so satisfying. I can laugh at my old struggles, see the growth, and still find a piece of myself in every line.

Alright. That is enough nostalgia for one day. I think I am ready to burn this journal now.

[myscatteredjournal]

Unsent Letters Series

Letter to Daddy: The Guitar you bought me

Dear Daddy,

You probably don’t remember the day I told you I wanted to play the guitar. I didn’t even say it seriously. It was just in passing, like one of those small thoughts I blurt out without thinking. But the next day, or maybe two days later, you came home with one. I was shocked. We didn’t have a lot of money back then, so I still don’t know how or why you did it.

The truth is, I never got past a few notes. My fingers hurt, and I gave up too soon. The guitar stayed in the closet for years. I tried again once, years later, but by then it was already broken and couldn’t be fixed. You weren’t mad. You were never mad about things like that. You just told me, in your calm way, that it couldn’t be repaired.

Sometimes I wonder if you bought that guitar because you wanted to see me play, or maybe because you once dreamed of playing yourself. I’ve seen your old photos: cool, confident, looking like someone who could’ve been on stage.

I feel guilty. Maybe because I know there were so many things you wanted for me that I didn’t give you. You probably wanted a straight son. You probably wanted grandchildren earlier. I didn’t give you those, even though you never complained, even though you accepted my boyfriend and treated him with kindness. You never showed me disappointment, but I still feel like I fell short.

So maybe this guitar thing is something I can still do for you. It’s small, but it’s one dream I think I can honor. One piece of you I can carry forward. Maybe when I finally learn to play, even in death, we will become closer.

Love,

Kuya

[myscatteredjournal]

Building My Morning Foundation

Early sleep, simple meals and prepared mornings are three small wins that keep my ADHD from running the show.

I used to think I needed massive changes to get my life together. Turns out, the real magic came from three small things: sleeping early, eating with intention and starting my mornings prepared. Yesterday proved it again. The calmer I start the stronger I finish.

Yesterday didn’t go exactly as planned but it still proved I’m moving in the right direction. The biggest win was sleeping early. I mean really early. I got eight hours of rest and woke up at 2:42 a.m. Even if I had aimed for 1:00 this was still a strong start. That early sleep gave me the clarity and energy to claim my deep work hours this morning.

The second win was sticking to my diet. Bananas, sweet potatoes and a small cracker for dinner. It’s simple but it’s working. I’m reminding myself that workouts can shape the body but it’s the diet that shapes the results. My mom has been cooking for me a week at a time and it’s been a huge help for both my health and my connection with her.

Work brought its share of “productive chaos”: deadlines, system glitches, firefighting with clients and some team friction. There was even a moment where I had to push back against a colleague whose habits I’ve let slide for too long. Still, I noticed I handled it with more control than before. I can see now how the way I start my morning sets the tone for how I handle stress later in the day.

If there’s one thing I need to repeat today it’s going to bed early and waking up ready for deep work. If there’s one thing I need to avoid it’s showing up unprepared. In my line of work lack of preparation leads straight to burnout and burnout is the fastest way to start questioning whether I should even stay in this role.

This isn’t about overnight change. It’s about stacking small deliberate wins until life feels steady instead of scattered. Sleep early, eat well, prepare ahead. If I can protect those three everything else has a better chance of falling into place.

Visit Original Link

[myscatteredjournal]

Unsent Letters Series

Letter to Daddy: The House and the Garden

Hi Daddy,

We visited you earlier this morning. I was still sleepy from church and my body felt heavy because my meds had already worn off. I was a little irritable, and when I feel that way, I often think of you. Not because you ever made me feel bad, but because missing you has a way of showing up in those quiet, unguarded moments.

When I closed my eyes, I went back to our last trip together. It was just a few days before you went to the ICU. We were at that glamping Airbnb, sitting in an open bahay kubo while the cold air settled around us. The bonfire kept us warm. We were talking about the kind of life we wanted to build, buying our own land, putting up a house, and creating a garden. You said you would build the house and Mom would take care of the plants. I remember thinking it sounded so possible, and I could see it clearly in my mind.

The plan is still there, but it has changed a little. It might not be as big as we imagined, but I hope for something more intimate, a place where your future grandchildren can grow up. Right now, funds are tight and we are still paying your medical bills. But I would never regret that. Every peso was worth it if it meant extending your life even a little longer.

I am working hard, taking on extra jobs and slowly moving toward that day. And when it comes, I imagine you there. You probably would not say much, but you would be with the children, playing with them. We plan to gather every video we can find of you, so they will know your voice and your smile. You will always be part of them, even if they only meet you through our stories.

I hope you can hear me wherever you are.

Love,

Kuya

[myscatteredjournal]

The World in My Head

I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Back then I didn’t know it had a name. I just thought I had a wild imagination. It was my escape. My comfort. My drug. I could be sitting in a classroom, trapped in a long church service, or lying in bed with nothing to do, and I’d slip away. No one noticed I was gone because my body was still there.

When I finally found the term for it in college, I felt this rush of relief. I wasn’t the only one. There were other people like me, and researchers were actually studying it. I thought, “Yes. Finally. If it has a name, there has to be a cure.” But that hope faded quick. The research was new, and it wasn’t something you could just fix.

My worlds have always been intense. Sometimes I’m a singer or an actor, someone overlooked until the world suddenly wakes up and realizes I’m everything they’ve been missing. The love, the attention, the guilt from everyone who ignored me, I drink it in. I feel it in my chest. Sometimes the stories last weeks. Sometimes they turn sexual. In those, I’m not just wanted, I’m unavoidable. People can’t get enough of me, and they never stop wanting me.

It’s addictive because in my head, I control it all. No disappointments. No half-hearted praise. No failed attempts. Just a perfect loop of validation and desire.

Real life doesn’t do that for me. Even big wins, things I worked for, don’t hit as hard. I passed a major exam recently, got the congratulations, but the high didn’t last. In my head, achievements are pure joy. Out here, they come with pressure and expectations I’m not sure I can meet.

MD has been my safety net, but it’s also been the trap. It’s kept me company in the worst moments, but it’s stolen time, energy, and attention from the life I keep saying I want. I’ve imagined the abs, the career, the travels with people I love. But I’d spend more time imagining them than doing the work to get there.

Only now, with the right treatment, do I feel that gap closing. I have more energy. I can act on things instead of just thinking about them. And I want that kind of control, the kind where I decide what I do with my life, not just what happens in my head.

If I could tell my younger self anything, I wouldn’t tell him to stop daydreaming. I’d tell him: You’ll never stop looking for ways to make this better. You’ll fight to understand yourself. And that fight will get you closer to the life you’ve been picturing all along.

I still go there sometimes. I still let myself slip away when I’m stuck in a place I don’t want to be. But I’m starting to learn that life out here, even when it’s messy and slow, can feel more real than the perfect world I’ve been running back to all my life.

[myscatteredjournal]

Bringing the Conversation Home

This morning did not start the way I planned. I was supposed to go to the gym and then head to the office, but I found myself standing in the bathroom, Ritalin still not kicking in, unable to convince my body to take a bath. By the time I finally moved, the gym was no longer an option and the day had already shifted in a different direction.

When I got to the office, the tasks piled up quickly. There were urgent emails for a client, unfinished projects from last night, and even personal errands that needed to be done. I pushed hard, trying to fit as much as possible into a few short hours.

Then came the call to my mom. She was not happy that I was staying longer in the office instead of heading home as planned. The old me would have apologized quickly and ended the conversation, but this time I explained myself. I told her I was sorry, that I was not doing this by choice, and that I needed her to be my support system instead of another problem to solve. She understood, and that is the kind of relationship I want with her. I want no miscommunication, no lingering tension, and a way to resolve things right away.

Since Dad died, I have been more deliberate about matching her energy. She is expressive, talkative, and emotional, and I want to meet her there. I used to hold back, unsure how to comfort her, leaving that role to Dad’s quiet reassurance. Now I want her to feel loved and understood until the very end. I call her several times a day, not just to check in but to tell her about my own problems. It is my way of making her feel needed, of giving her a role in my life that keeps her grounded and connected.

I have learned that transparency works for me with family, with coworkers, and even here in this journal. It lightens the load and turns problems into something shared. I also see the need for balance, making sure I am not overwhelming people with issues they cannot solve.

Recently, I shared something deeply personal with a coworker, and she shared something personal with me as well. It built trust, but it also made me realize I have been investing more in work relationships than in my friendships outside the office. I need to make space for those connections too, the ones that are not tied to deadlines and projects.

Right now, I am on the road, heading home to pick up my family so we can visit Dad’s grave. My sister will drive, and I will have time to think, maybe plan, maybe just be present. I am not sure yet. What I do know is that I want my mom to feel the same love and care that Dad gave her, in my own way, for as long as I can. I also want to keep finding ways to be open without placing too much weight on the people I love.

[myscatteredjournal]

When Chaos Hits Twice

If you have ADHD, you know this pattern. You promise yourself you won’t get caught in the same chaos twice. You believe it. You even feel prepared for it. Then it still happens, and it feels like the universe just hit replay.

Yesterday, I told myself I wouldn’t go through the same chaos again. I really believed it. But today, it hit me again, maybe even harder.

Last night was already a lot. I skipped my medication after work, and without it, the tiredness hit like a wall. I was stuck in traffic for hours on the way to the concert, answering calls about problems I couldn’t fix from the car. People wanted decisions, designs, and changes all at once. My brain was already juggling a thousand tabs, and now the tabs were catching fire. I tried to push it aside and enjoy the night, but the exhaustion was in my bones.

Then came this morning, and the real storm landed. My phone lit up with messages about a project I thought was ready to go. I had made the plans, sent the instructions, and followed up. Everyone said it was fine. It wasn’t. The site wasn’t prepared, and now the blame was in my lap. That’s the thing with ADHD. You can pour all your focus into getting ahead of a problem, but the second someone else drops their part, it feels like your whole effort collapses. And it’s almost always you who gets the call to fix it.

For a while, I was ready to fire back with frustration. But somewhere in that rush of adrenaline, I caught myself. If I replied right away, it would be pure emotion and no clarity. So I waited for my meds to kick in, told them I’d call in a bit, and then handled it. That pause, as simple as it sounds, kept me from sending a message I’d regret later.

If I look at it honestly, the core problem isn’t that I messed up. It’s that I’m one person doing the work of several. Ten projects at once is not sustainable, no matter how many to-do lists I make or how early I wake up. ADHD makes you believe you can hold it all, and sometimes you even can, but eventually you can’t.

So I’m drawing a line. I’ll still own my part, but I’m making sure the people above me see the gaps for what they are. I’ll share what happened, what I already did to stop it, and what needs to change. That way, I’m not silently carrying the weight and then wondering why I’m burned out.

Today was a repeat of yesterday, but it’s also proof that I can handle the same storm differently. ADHD doesn’t make the chaos go away, but it does teach you how to find small lifelines in the middle of it, even if that lifeline is just taking a breath before you reply.

[myscatteredjournal]

The Version of Me My Dad Never Got to See

I woke up earlier than I expected (around 1 a.m.) and for a while I debated whether I should get up or go back to sleep. I had promised myself I’d do something this morning, but I wasn’t sure what time exactly. After counting the hours, I realized I had already slept for six. Maybe that was enough.

And as soon as I became fully awake, the memory settled in.

Here at home, at the family house, I remember him even more clearly. My dad was always the one who woke up first before a trip. He would quietly prepare breakfast, clean up the house, and move like clockwork to make the morning easier for all of us. The absence of that presence hit me again, especially the memory of his footsteps and the calm way he used to take care of everything.

I saw pictures of him today. I was reminded again that I still dream of him clearly. In my dream, it was just a normal morning. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Good morning, Kuya.” That was how our mornings were. Sometimes he would ask what we wanted for breakfast or ask how work was going.

But if the dream had gone further, I think I would have asked him a question I’ve been carrying for months now: Is it really over? Can I no longer talk to you? Can you still feel anything?

That’s what I really want to know.

I wish he could see me now.

Not because I’ve accomplished anything massive, but because I’ve changed. I used to show love through support like financial help, occasional gifts, and saying I love you. But I wasn’t present. Not really. When my mom was struggling at work before, I didn’t know how to comfort her. I just told her to resign. I promised I’d earn more to cover for the family. My dad was the one who handled the emotional work. He was the one who sat with her, talked to her, and held her when I couldn’t.

Now, I’m doing what he used to do. I call my mom three to four times a day. I listen to her, ask how she’s feeling, and stay on the line when she needs to vent. It’s not just about support anymore. It’s about presence.

But I’ve also made mistakes this week that I want to leave behind.

Yesterday, we were talking about selling my dad’s motorbike. My mom mentioned raising the price. I told her, without thinking, “Let’s not talk to Daddy like that.” I meant it in a gentle way, but it came out wrong. Her friend laughed. She didn’t. It hurt her deeply. She carried it the whole night, and when I came home, she told me it left a mark. I didn’t mean to make her feel like that, especially not in front of someone else. But I did, and I regret it.

I also regret the times I snapped at my boyfriend when he was just trying to have fun. He was playing around while I was working from home, but truthfully, I should not have been working then. I should have been present with him. I want to become more conscious. I want to respond instead of reacting.

And if you asked the version of me from a year ago what would surprise him the most, it wouldn’t be the growth. It wouldn’t be the job changes or even the medication. It would be the fact that my dad is gone.

He would ask what happened. He would panic. I would tell him to take Dad to the doctor. To track his blood pressure three times a day. To get a second opinion. To not wait. To spend more time at home, to cherish it. To help with the cleaning, to sit longer at the table, to talk more. To love deeper while there’s still time.

Because today, I live with the version of myself he never got to see.

[myscatteredjournal]

Some Things We Let Go, Some Things We Carry

Today, everything I touched felt like it meant something more.

At work, I was put in charge of something I didn’t start. The pressure was unfair, and the expectations were rushed. People wanted results without doing the prep, and I had to be the one to say we stop until this is done right. It was hard, but I did it. I said it respectfully, and I meant it.

Still, there’s always that ache. It’s the part of me that wonders if I could’ve done more—if I should’ve started earlier, managed things better, or moved faster. It’s not exactly burnout. It’s more like a quiet hum of regret that I try to ignore by staying busy, but it doesn’t leave.

Then there’s the bike.

The one I bought for my dad. He loved it. He cleaned it every day and told everyone about it. It made him feel young again, free again. He said he’d pay for it through his pension, starting in March. He died in March.

I told myself I’d ride it. Learn, even if I never learned to ride a bicycle. I bought one and fell a lot. It took me a full month just to ride straight. But the motorbike was too much. Too big. Too full of his fingerprints.

It sat untouched.

As the months passed, I realized I wasn’t preserving him. I was letting the thing he loved fade. My dad would’ve hated that. He took care of everything he loved, especially that bike. So I knew it was time. Not to forget, but to pass it on.

We tried to offer it to someone in the family, but they disrespected the memory by trying to get it cheap. I couldn’t take that. That bike is part of my dad’s joy. His story. If we’re letting it go, it has to be to someone who sees it the way he did.

Someone might buy it now. It might find a second life. Maybe that’s how I keep him close, not by holding on, but by letting the love keep moving forward, even when he can’t.

Later today, I visited his grave. I told him I missed him. I said I still couldn’t accept that this is forever. I don’t believe in afterlives. I believe in silence. But still, I talk. I hope.

The hardest part of grief isn’t crying. It’s the almosts. The what ifs. The never agains. And the way they show up in the quietest moments, like while I’m driving home or holding the keys to a bike I never got to ride with him.

If I could bottle anything from today, it would be that quiet regret.

Not because I want to carry it forever, but because I want to remember it. So that when I look back someday, in a better version of my life, when I’m healthier, calmer, and more whole. I can whisper to myself, “Look where we came from. Look how far we’ve come.”

[myscatteredjournal]

Woke Up Early, Still Felt Late

I woke up at 3:40 AM. That was the goal. That was supposed to be the win that would launch a productive morning. I had planned to wash my face, organize a few work files, and prepare some documents. I also intended to create a task list and maybe squeeze in a bit of quiet progress before the day started.

But instead, I watched reaction videos on YouTube. It was a show I enjoy, and my favorite reactor had posted something new. I knew I was slipping into that loop, and while I was enjoying it, I also felt frustrated. It was that familiar moment—when my brain knew it was time to stop, but I couldn't quite pull myself out of the pleasure spiral.

No Ritalin yet. Just me, alone, trying to direct focus with willpower alone. And it didn’t work.

Still, that doesn’t mean the morning was a failure.

I woke up early. That one thing already shifted the rest of the day. If I hadn’t, none of the other intentions would have even been possible. So while I didn’t finish the tasks I set, I did take the first step. It’s just hard to feel good about it right now, especially since life is in “firefighting mode.” Everything feels urgent. Everything feels like it should already be done.

But I’m learning to adjust. I’m trying to give myself grace without losing momentum. And this journaling session helps me reset—every time I reflect like this, I remember that improvement is slow but real. Tomorrow, I’ll try taking Ritalin first thing in the morning instead of at night. I’ll protect the early hours and refocus the late hours on resting and spending time with my boyfriend.

This morning didn’t go according to plan. But I showed up. And sometimes, that is enough.

[myscatteredjournal]

I Thought I Couldn’t Finish Things, But Today Proved Otherwise

I took a leave from work today to deal with school matters. That was the plan. Just get through enrollment, update my records, maybe breathe a little. But the day had a different kind of rhythm.

Starting with Work, as Always Even on leave, I had to finish a few urgent work tasks early in the morning. Deadlines don’t care about your schedule. But surprisingly, between 7 to 10 AM, I cleared almost everything. These were tasks I had been avoiding, yet somehow, they felt easier today. I didn't expect it, but finishing them gave me a strange kind of peace. Not excitement, not even pride. Just a quiet moment of, “Okay. I can actually do this.”

A Quiet Milestone When I got to school, I learned that my final dissertation subject had been approved for release. It turns out I have no more academic units left. Zero. I’m officially eligible for graduation. That realization didn’t come with a celebration. It just sat there, gently, like a door had been left open. I still need to publish papers, attend a conference, and defend my work. But the hardest academic hurdles are behind me now. After everything since 2019, that’s no small thing.

I Used to Think I Couldn't Finish For a long time, I believed I wasn’t made to finish things. I would start strong, burn with ideas, and then lose all momentum. Every step forward felt temporary. Every burst of energy was followed by weeks of fog. Now, with proper medication and a better system, I can hold focus longer. I can be consistent. I don’t rely on euphoric bursts to move. That stability doesn’t make things perfect, but it makes them possible. That’s something I didn’t think I’d ever say about myself.

What Changed It wasn’t just one thing. I’ve always had self-awareness. I know when I’m spiraling. I know when I’m using distraction to run from discomfort. Even when I’m stuck, I usually know why. The difference now is I can act on that knowledge. I can interrupt the spiral before it becomes a collapse. I can finish things even if they don’t feel perfect. I can be proud without needing to feel euphoric.

Looking Ahead Someday, I hope to raise a child with my partner. When they arrive, I want to give them the version of me that took time to grow. Not the rushed, anxious one who was always trying to fix everything all at once. But the one who learned how to stay, how to finish, how to make space for another person to exist without pressure.

One Thing I’m Quietly Proud Of I’ve become someone who understands himself deeply. Not perfectly. But enough to know what helps, what hurts, and what I still need to work on. Today wasn’t a loud day. But it was a turning point. And for the first time in a long while, that feels like enough.

[myscatteredjournal]

Fireproof

This morning, anxiety hit early.

It wasn’t dramatic. It was the quiet kind that creeps in and whispers, “You’re late. You’re unprepared. You’ve already failed.” I had set my alarm for 2:30 a.m. to finish work, but I only woke up at 5:30 when I heard my boyfriend’s alarm. I felt groggy and frustrated. I knew right away what that meant. My body was still exhausted. And though that should’ve been a good thing in terms of health, it only gave me more anxiety.

I started thinking about the work I hadn’t finished. I thought about the 10:00 a.m. meeting I wasn’t ready for. I remembered what it felt like to get reprimanded, to be delayed, to let people down. I’ve had worse days. I’ve lost progress. I’ve lost people. But today I chose to respond differently.

I didn’t cancel. I didn’t disappear. I chose to reflect.

I let myself feel it. I asked my body what it wanted. I asked my mind what it needed. And they answered.

What came out was not self-pity. It was a reminder: “I will not be defined by my anxiety.”

I want to live a life where I don’t always have to be in crisis mode. I want to be someone who shows up prepared. I want to show up not just for work, but also for my future family, my health, my partner, and my dreams. I want to be the kind of person who learns to move forward even when it’s uncomfortable.

That’s why I still went to work. That’s why I still showed up, even if the work isn’t finished. That’s why I’ll pivot the meeting if I have to. Because I refuse to freeze.

Today, I’m practicing. I’m practicing how to stand, even while shaking. I’m practicing how to breathe, even when my mind is full. I’m practicing how to get ready, not for perfection, but for what’s real.

I’m trying different things. I’m adjusting my environment. I’m not depending on willpower alone. And even if I fall short, I will keep trying.

Because I want to be ready. I want to be ready for the life I’ve always imagined. And today, I took a step toward that.

[myscatteredjournal]

Trying to Live Like My Future Self

Today didn’t go how I wanted it to. I left work around 3 PM, already feeling the weight of the tasks I wasn’t doing. I had planned to finish a design and start updating our monitoring file. I didn’t do either. I got home and filled the time with distractions. Nothing terrible, nothing productive either. Just time lost to avoidance.

It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that the pile of things I need to care about is too high, and sometimes I sit down in front of it instead of starting. I tell myself I’ll start at 9, then 9:30, then maybe after this or that. And suddenly it’s 10 PM and I’m left with guilt and panic instead of results.

What made it worse was knowing I had moments of clarity earlier. I explained the job to two interns. I felt alive doing it. I felt alive organizing my schoolwork. I felt alive imagining a version of myself who wakes up early, takes a cold shower, hits the gym, and doesn’t start the day feeling behind. That version of me still feels real. He’s not a fantasy. He’s just waiting for me to catch up.

And then there’s the body stuff.

I went to the cardiologist today. For the past few weeks, my resting pulse has been above 90. He told me not to worry. He asked me to get back into cardio. I’ve been going to the gym again, but mostly lifting. He prescribed something short-term and also asked me to stop taking atorvastatin for now. It was a quiet reminder that while I’ve been so focused on getting back to work, getting back to design, getting back to school, I also need to get back to myself.

And then there’s my teeth. I’ve been putting off a cleaning. The excuse I give myself is that I don’t want to interrupt my workouts, even though I’ve only just returned to them. Maybe the real reason I avoid the dentist is emotional. When my father got sick, one of the early signs we overlooked was his breath. We brushed it off. We thought it was nothing. It might not have meant anything, but now it feels like a symbol of all the things we miss until it’s too late.

I don’t want to be late to my own life.

Tonight, I’ll try again. I’ll work on the design. I’ll open the monitoring sheet. I’ll at least face the things I’ve been avoiding. I don’t expect perfection. I just want movement. I want to get to the point where my days feel chosen, not escaped.

If I die and someone reads this, I hope they see someone who was trying. Not someone who had everything figured out. Just someone who didn’t give up, even when it got quiet, messy, and hard to hold.

[myscatteredjournal]

I Just Want My Life Back

I woke up way too early (4:30 AM). I got in the car, headed for the gym. And for a moment, I wondered if this was really being productive, or just me running away from something.

But I think I was trying to come back to something.

Lately, it’s felt like my whole life is just about work. Like everything else such as family, school, even rest has to be “inserted” into the cracks. I used to do things with joy. I used to enjoy studying, solving problems, going out with my family just to be with them. Not as a distraction, but because we loved it. Now, everything has to be strategic. Every event, every gesture trying to fix something. Trying to hold things together.

I’m trying to be a leader at work, even when I don’t like managing people. I’m standing up for my team, trying to fix systems that don’t want to be fixed. And I’m doing all this while grieving quietly, still trying to figure out how to fill the space my father left behind.

It’s hard to rest when no one’s watching over you anymore.

But maybe I don’t need to rebuild everything at once.

Maybe I just need to reclaim small pieces of my life again, one at a time.