Redux. @redux52 - Tumblr Blog

Brave.

Kuan Kong is a well known Chinese general during the Han dynasty. I first came upon his story when I was studying world religions. Kuan Kong is a deity that is said to be a fierce fighter with impeccable integrity. Statues of the general are now used by feng shui practitioners to signify protection from negativity and fear.

I saw this on a table at a friend's house. It was so well made. I hadn't seen a statue of Kuan Kong in a long time and seeing it again brought back memories for me.

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We talked to my ex's sibling last night, along with a niece based in the U.K. I had hoped that they would talk about how they were, but they wanted to hear our side of the story about the separation.

My daughter and I anticipated this. But I was very anxious inside. I didn't want to over share, nor speak bitterly about the past. We weren't looking for them to take our side. Nor did I want to open a door that would lead to us facing my ex.

So I gave context to what was true to me: I told them that I tried for so long to make it work. In my head, if I had to die trying, I would have.

But in the last few years together with my ex, someone gave me hope that maybe, I don't have to accept a relationship that was hurting me and consequently, my daughter. Maybe God's plan was for me to fight for what I wanted, now that I knew what I wanted: It was being free of from the narcissist.

He was my lesson in humility. My ex taught me how to love because I lacked self love. He taught me how to respect my worth, because he made me feel so cheap, not precious, and worthless.

I told them I will share our story not for them to take our side, but only to say what happened. I respect familial ties. I don't want to cause a rift. My daughter and I just want to be at peace without him in our lives.

They nodded.

So we told them. Facts, events. And when we were done, we had no tears. Just tired. The old feelings of fear were rising inside me. I decided to focus on being present, not be in my head.

They listened. They nodded. They were surprised and kinda shocked.

Then they said they they haven't talked to him either. But the sister was hoping that one day, maybe forgiveness and a talk could happen?

No.

Then I asked about them and their stories flowed out. One talked of her story like she was stuttering. Like she wasn't used to telling the story because she hasn't told anyone. One was a story born out of pain and ripened into wisdom. They have had their own challenges in life and in those moments, I felt my heart expand. They've been hurting too. The stories and circumstances are different, but the fear, the tough choices, and the reckoning they faced in their own lives were just as harrowing.

We ended the call after an hour and a half. They set a date for the next call later this year.

Yesterday, I faced the conversation I was anxious about. I had no guarantees as to what would come out of it, nor it's repercussions. But we did it. My daughter and I did it. We stuck to our truth. Just like Kuan Kong.

We spoke of what was true to our hearts and it triggered honesty from them too. That's the magic. That's love.

I had prayed for guidance before the conversation. God and His angels delivered on their promise. Thank you for helping me be brave.

Star Wars.

My Dad was such a fantasy and sci-fi fan. He collected books by Isaac Asimov, the Hobbit and its succeeding books, Dune, and other stories long before they became movies.

He shared this love of stories with me. He was so excited when the first Star Wars movie came out in 1977. We watched it together on the big screen, and it instantly made me a fan as well.

I joined this run for several reasons for sure. One, I did this as an adventure. It's my first time to do a fun run: Despite my age and being a smoker, I enjoy walking. I wanted to see if I could do this at least once. Two, I did it for family. My daughter, niece, and cousin are healthy and run regularly as a lifestyle. They've teased and invited me to do a run with them. So this is me taking baby steps. Who knows if I'll do the next run with them?

Lastly, I chose this particular run because I wanted to remember and honor my Dad. He gave me my love for stories, books, kung fu movies, fantasy, Dungeons and Dragons, and music. Star Wars was just one of the memories I have of him, and of being with him.

As a kid, Star Wars defined the meaning of good and evil for me. It was about the Force, and how it can't be defined, but felt. It was about a son, who followed the path of his father but became the better man. It's about human struggle, and how a tiny ray of hope can triumph over fear. It shaped my values more than I realized.

When we got our race kits, they played John Williams' theme for the franchise. It was so visceral for me, I was literally tearing up. The music triggered my memories, and words can't express the depth of hope, joy, and love I felt being surrounded with the song. I felt like a kid again! I was so happy, even messaging my cousin when we were there.

I think people could see how happy my daughter and I were. When we took selfies in front of the backdrop for the event, an official photographer came and asked us to pose. He took several shots of us too. We were just so happy that we forgot to ask which media outlet he worked for. Too bad, I would have wanted to see the pictures.

But we did it. I did it. For myself, my family, and for my Dad. I'm sure he was laughing in Heaven just seeing us bubble over with excitement. That's also why Star Wars will always be special to me. And now, because of the Mandelorian, my daughter has fallen for the franchise too.

The legacy continues. 😊

Unexpected.

There were so many good things that happened this weekend. But one thing that surprised me was an email response to a thank you I had sent a few days earlier.

I try to be kind. Everyday. So when my daughter and I received presents from my ex's sisters from abroad, I was happy, but surprised. So I messaged our gratefulness and thanked them for their kindness.

I haven't spoken to my daughter's biological father in almost 2 years I think. When we separated, I didn't receive any messages from his siblings, nor did I expect it. I respect family bonds and I held no ill-will towards any of them. In my head and heart, a chapter has been closed, and I am at peace.

But then we received their presents and a warm email from his sister. She writes of how life has changed for her and it wasn't easy. She is doing better now, and she would like to reconnect. Zoom meet in about a week? she asked.

I read her email yesterday. I am going to respond to her by today. I think I am writing here just to sort my feelings out.

I'm not angry, nor bitter. I'm just surprised that a closed door is opening again and I don't know how to engage.

The siblings aren't in good terms at this time. His sister saw me as someone she could trust. I think she knew I could see past her glamorous life (she lived a near picture-perfect life in New Orleans). I saw her as a person not persona. I admire her drive, and her self-made vision of herself. She's really quite amazing. She didn't have to perform around me. I am not a flashy person, and I used to feel insecure around her talent and beauty. But now, I dont feel insecure as I did. As I disengaged with his siblings, I also let go of the need to be liked by them.

So why am I hesitating? Uncomfortable? To be honest, I get tired with small talk. I still have a hard time interacting with people I don't see every day. Another reason is I don't want to my ex to know about my life now. But what about his sisters?

Reframe: I will be clear - I don't want to have anything to do with my ex. I don't need to share my side of the story. I don't need for them to know the pain and tears I went through. I am healing myself.

I fought for the peace of mind I have now.

Each day, I choose

1. to feel safe

2. to not overthink, and

3. to not feel fear.

Each day I succeed in acting this way is a win. One day at a time. I f*cking fought for me.

So will not entertain any ideas of future communication with him (I hope she doesn't suggest it). I will listen to her stories and be truly present. Everyone (regardless of their past) deserves an open, gentle, and non-judgemental conversation. I know I can give that. I just have to remind myself to not get carried away in giving. I can protect myself by just listening and speaking with clear intention.

Okay. Got it (talking to myself). Time to start the day. Mental framework has been set. 😉

If anyone is reading this, yes, I write to straighten my thoughts. This helps me work through cptsd. For me, my healing happens with intention: I set my goal and intention each day. Step by step. If I can do it, you can too. ❤️

Third time's the charm.

I began my morning walk a little later today. Put my ponytail up high and my cap's visor low on my face. This way, people walking towards me can't see my face (I just like to keep my face hidden when I walk hahaha).

Incident 1: Then I saw our neighborhood auntie walking down our street. If I left now, I would bump into her, she would see me and I'd probably get stuck in a long chat. So I waited a bit, til I saw her walk towards her house. Then I went out. Just then, another neighbor happened to be walking outside too. I said 'hello' and changed my direction, towards a side alley. I take a few steps, looked up, and our neighborhood auntie is at the end of the alley. "Hi! It's you!" she exclaims. With no way out, I smile, walk towards her, give her a hug and we chat quite pleasantly for a few minutes and I continue my walk.

Incident 2: I walk out the gate, past the compound guards and start walking in earnest.

My music is too soft.

I tap, tap, tap my watch to adjust the volume, focusing. In a split second, I see a black car bumper and tires just two steps away from me. I almost bumped into a parked car hahahahha

Self-consciously, I side step quickly and avoid the helpless car.

Incident 3: I walk toward the church compound. It's quiet, no one walks there, and one round is about half a kilometer, with a steep incline and sloping ground.

I was in my second round when I realized it was a Monday, about 8 a.m. by then. I keep walking, head down, when I notice movement on my right side, where the fence of the seminarians and priest's dormitory was. Three seminarians in white robes were hoisting up a flag and the Philippine flag at the same time. Didn't realize there was a flagpole there. They look up, seeing me approach. I smile a small smile, and as I get closer, behind the seminary fence, was a group of priests and seminarians facing the flag, thus facing me as I passed! They stood quietly, waiting for the flag ceremony to begin, all the while noticing me pass by right in front of them. Here I am, walking in shorts and a shirt, while they're all fully dressed in robes til their ankles. I smiled, mumbled something and quickly walked past, before the actual anthem started playing. 🫣

I started giggling to myself as I walked around the big church perimeter. So embarrassed.

At the exit, I could faintly hear the national anthem, their voices clear and rich, cutting through the music in my earphones.

The win: Then I saw a fallen chrysanthemum on the parking lot floor. They were white. My dad's favorite flower. I smile to myself. I had 'talked' to my dad last night in my prayers, asking him if he could see me up in Heaven. I had told him missed him, and I wished I could have spent more conversations with him now that I was an adult. I have a feeling these flowers were his way to say 'yes, I see you'.

I pick up the flowers, faded and beaten as they were, and continued my walk around the subdivision, away from the church.

Despite all these little incidents, I arrive home with a smile on my face, finding the whole walk a terribly funny and unusual experience.

What's your order?

I draw runes and cards every day. It helps me explore my inner word and gives me a direction or prompts to refine my thoughts and feelings.

Recently, I've been led to explore what it is that I truly want for myself.

Without any limits, or conditions. Without me thinking if I can afford it or not. Just a question: what do I want?

I wanted my school to be self-sustaining. I wanted to help other teachers to heal and feel whole within themselves so they don't project their fears and wounds to their students. I wanted a house that has had all the necessary repairs done so it doesn't leak. I want my loved ones and friends to be healthy and safe always.

But the question still persisted. What do I want?

I sat with that thought for a while.

For 23 years, I chose to live with a narcissist. I chose to believe that I was okay with my lot in life: knowing that he would cheat. That it would only take one time for him to go home drunk on his Friday nights and drive straight into an accident. Realizing also that he has had so many drunk accidents, it became normal for me to expect the worst. I chose to stay because I feared he would destroy me if I left him. I tried it once. And the psychological damage that he punished me with left their scars. And I didn't try again. I survived. And have been living in survival mode for so long I didn't know what it meant to enjoy the things I once did.

I tried to shield my daughter from him. I really tried. Now that she's older and is able to articulate her own experience, we have a bond that is similar to trauma survivors. It is hard to fully understand and appreciate if you haven't lived with a narcissist. You won't.

I chose that life. It affected my daughter. Me too. I still carry the guilt of choosing the wrong one and thus, hurting my daughter. I guess it's why I try so hard then to be a little more understanding, and a little more patient with her because I put those wounds on her. Most days.

23 years of conditioning: to be small, to not ask because you won't get it. 23 years of prayers and hope, of being scared and anxious, nervous, walking on eggshells, dreading going home. 23 of not wanting to shower when he's home. 23 years of not showing my fear, my pain to anyone - not even to myself. I believed this was all normal. No one believed what we went through because no one believed he was a narcissist.

Then Fate stepped in. He left. Threats, stalking, slander, messaging our frinds and family. Weaving a story where he was the victim. He had us summoned by the local government, and we had to defend our story. Then, it was done. We persisted. And he gave up. We were free.

I sit at my couch, listening to the birds chatting outside. The crickets are noisy today. The sun is now more persistent but the wind is still cool.

What do I want?

I don't know. I don't want to be scared like that again. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to make a mistake of choosing someone who will hurt me like before. I don't want to be so cowed and hopeless that I can't even choose nor dream of things just for me.I don't want to be numb again. I don't want to be helpless.

If you knew that God was listening to your prayers and He would grant you your 'order' from the Universe's menu, what would you ask for?

I want carefree days where I feel safe to my bones. I want to travel where I feel peace, awe, and be speechless because the world is just so beautiful. I want to live the rest of my days with my best friend. I miss my best friend a lot. I want to laugh happily every day. I want to have good days and bad days, knowing that I have someone who will have my back and that's all I need. I want to wake up each day feeling so humbled because God and His angels conspired to give me a life where I feel purposeful and content.

I read this list again.

I went through a lot to have dreams for myself. I know that some dreams are in my actions while others come when the time is right, or not at all.

Today, I appreciate the fact that I can freely choose my dreams and place my 'order'. I am grateful that I got to write about this.

For now, I'd like to order another bowl of minestrone. :)

One year.

365 days of feeling rejected and blessed. 365 days of picking myself up and not giving up.

8,760 hours of prayers and wins, feeling positive then overthinking, falling into depression, then fighting against it.

525,600 minutes of hope and striving to hope.

Never thought I'd make it this far, you know? But I'm here. Fought a huge battle inside of me for a year. I questioned my worth. My capabilities. My fears. My weaknesses. I had to rethink who I am.

I hope that growth happened in each time I chose to help myself. I'd like to think I learned something and that I am a better version of myself now.

I still have the same dreams. But there are things I can and can't control, and I know the difference between them a little better.

I still have mini spirals. But they are less intense. I still question my worth. But to most people, I walk and talk like I am worthy, and I try not to show it.

I did things this year that made me happy. I chose to be happy, even if inside I just wanted to hide. It paid off, choosing happiness. Minute by minute, telling myself 'I've got this. Just try it. Quiet your mind and just move towards something new.' It worked. It still works. It can be hard as hell but, it's getting easier.

I still don't see myself as pretty. Just a little bit. A little bit more than a year ago. And hey, that's progress, right?

Why is it so important for me to feel pretty? Because before, beauty to me comes from being chosen: In the past, I didn't need other people to see me as beautiful. I only needed one person to see that. But I didn't have that now. So this year, I had to change how I saw beauty. I want to look at myself and see a serenity and a knowing that I am a good person. It's not necessarily physical beauty, but a glow because I have joy in my eyes. That's the beauty I want to see when I look at my pictures. I'm getting there, one photo at a time.

I am also picky about who I share my time and effort to. This is huge. Because I am choosing my peace of mind over needing to always be there for other people.

The short version is...

This past year, I learned a lot. Even if at times I fell back into negativity, I am able to get back up again a little faster. I learned about myself. I saw people who chose me and love me, and want me in their life. I chose them too. Prayers are heard. Trusting in God's plan is hard but I'm learning to let go each day.

Step by step. Day by day. Hour by hour. Second by second.

Cats and dogs.

One early morning, I met a pretty, white kitten near the church. Happily, she approached me without hesitation and allowed me to pet her. Next day in school, we had to leave early and bring one of our older K-9 dogs for a check-up since she kept coughing.

First time for me to drive an automatic car. Also a first time for me to drive an old Honda CRV. First time for me to stay waiting at the vet for almost five hours.

There were so many pets, different breeds, all cared for and loved by different people. Our school admin, my daughter, Chaplin and I patiently waited for our turn. We didn't feel hungry even though we hadn't even had breakfast yet. We were just... waiting. I could feel the low hum of anxiety that was around vet hospitals. I noticed very sick dogs being rushed into the ER. Some were there to be confined.

A man rushed into the lobby, asking about a dog who went into cardiac arrest. They immediately lead him to the second floor. Soon after, a younger female came, asking about the same dog. Both their faces were full of fear and worry. Time passed. The man who came in full speed earlier, walked slowly down the steps, dark glasses over his eyes, whispered something to the attendants and went back up.

I knew what he felt.

I stroked our smart, beautiful Lab, sleeping quietly at my feet. And we kept waiting. When we finally saw the doctor, they ran an x-ray and had blood work done. Chaplin had erlichia. Antibiotics and other drugs were prescribed. A date was set for her follow up. We could go home, which was school.

Traffic was light, despite being 5 p.m. in the city. When we got back, Chaplin's owner and my business partner came to greet us. Chaplin accepted the cuddles. We talked about our afternoon. The b-b-q vendor was roasting meat just outside. We bought a few sticks, placed hot rice on a plate, and a bowl for the vinegar with onion, chili, and cucumbers. We ate quietly. Tired. Numb. I still had to drive home.

Got home. Showered. Mind blank. Heart tired too. The week had just started. But I am still blessed, you know? Our school dog can recover. We got to and from the vet safely. I learned to drive an automatic without much intro or fanfare. We had good food. Just tired. Weary.

That was yesterday. Today, it was better. Hot day, but it's all good.

A red sun.

So, the picture didn't really capture the red sun. I tried to get it. But all too soon, I felt like I was missing the moment and decided to stop fiddling with the camera and lean back. I just watched the sun quietly go down.

In my head, I was thinking, how many sunsets like this have I missed? Do people see this view? Why aren't we all admiring this?

Then I stopped all my thoughts too. So the eyes and my body was immersed in the moment. Now my mind and thoughts were quiet too.

It was red. Like Arrakis (Dune reference). And there was a power in the sun's return to slumber. It was inspiring. Odd feeling, right? I could almost hear an orchestra paying homage to the sunset. It was worthy of a symphony.

Going home, darkness has fallen. It was still early evening, but another celestial body greeted us when arrived home. La Luna was a pearl in the sky. She glowed so beautifully. I stood still for a moment, just staring at her. Closed my eyes. Enjoyed the hush that only night can bring.

Lots of things happened today. But seeing the sun and the moon made me feel like I had received a gift I hadn't expected. It was good.

Pause.

Took a break from work today. Made space for prayers and errands. It's the Holy Week in the Philippines, and we took the time to visit Sta. Clara in Katipunan to offer eggs and prayers.

Every since I learned about this particular church, I would go every now and then when I felt like my prayers needed a little help. In exchange for a few pesos, you could buy eggs wrapped in different colors, each color representing a particular intention. You could also buy sampaguita to offer to the saints as you pray.

I like this kind of "ceremony" when I go there to pray. In many cultures, people offer food, money (tithing), flowers, effort, and songs to add to one's prayers. This is what mass is like. Just in a different form. I find this as more personal than going to a mass. You go at your own pace.

Inside the compound, there is space for people to get paper and pencils to write thanksgiving prayers and intentions. I like this part. It's like journalling, but a conversation too. Like letter-writing to God. I like that. It helps me put my thoughts and feelings into words.

After putting the eggs in a basket, we dropped the letters in a slot, then say a silent prayer in gratitude. Before leaving, we pass by the place where people can buy and light candles. We usually light candles to remember passed on loved ones, including our pets.

Our last stop is the "wish fountain". It's a tradition to toss coins into the fountain for a special wish. But apparently, there was a "requirement" to have wishes granted in this fountain.

Your coin had to hit the medallion on the highest tier of the fountain and land inside the "cup". We did this before my daughter took her university talent test, and I know of two or three people who did the same coin toss for state licensure or board exams. They all passed. :) I heard that it was also a ritual for women who wanted to conceive, espcially when all hope seemed lost.

So we dug up a few coins and did it. Several times. A friend asked us to pray for her younger brother's exams. Another asked for good health and recovery. Another asked for safe travels, and another asked for prayers for a mom who might be a candidate for cancer.

Then we also had our own prayers. So. Despite the noon day sun, we tossed coins into the fountain. We tried not to giggle too hard. We tried not to get too competitive hahahaha

But if persistence could get prayers answered, well. We tried our best.

My strawberry shake is angry.

I've made enough progress with my work that I can take a breather this morning.

These past few days have been...weird. I'm doing the work. I'm making sure that everything gets done, checklists checked, nothing forgotten. But I've noticed that there are times that I've been at a loss for words. Meaning, I have a feeling or thought I want to express, but I can't pick or remember the words I need to say. I pause at these times.

I've also been waking up at 4 a.m. (thereabouts) this week. I try sleeping again but it isn't as restful. When I look at my sleep tracker this week, my sleep score has been 'good'. Thing is, this sleep score is not normal for me. I've always had an 'excellent' sleep score (achiever, much?).

These past few days, I've been focused on the school yearbook, awards, social media ads, grades, tests, assessment reports: All of these things need to get done in the next 2 weeks. I've got help of course. But I need to make sure that they get done before they're due. I also have to look through all of them, if not, make them myself. And that's just the backend of the work I'm doing. There are classes, meetings, orientations and daily decisions that go on top of groceries, laundry, toilet-cleaning, and bills.

Okay.

Now that I've listed them, it does sound overwhelming. But it really is part of the school cycle. I'm grateful that my daughter has taken specific tasks to ease the load off of me. She made these adorable illustrations that we'll be using for the awards mid-April. I've also done enough prep work so I'm not making everything from scratch. So the list is daunting, but I'm resting this morning.

My weekend goal is the yearbook. My daughter is helping me with this. There's just so many moving parts: the photos from different sources, the write ups from each student, the proof reading, the colors, layout, etc.

Whew.

It's afternoon now. Put in a few hours to work on the yearbook. Sometimes, I look at it and it doesn't feel right. Or a photo is blurry. But. I've done what I can for today.

Am I feeling angry like the strawberry milkshake? Thankfully, not really. Just tired. I think I'm just fighting the feeling of overwhelm. But I'm good. I'm good. Music helps. It's the golden hour here, and the sun-kissed trees look unbearably beautiful.

I'm grateful. Tired. But grateful.

Today's moments.

We took so many photos in school today. We had another feast, and had activities that are worth sharing. Maybe the dogs were just being extra adorable. Maybe the kids were being gentler with themselves and others today. But I'm a little tired. Sore throat. A little weary. Still got lots to do and I'm on a deadline.

So I look at the photos today and smile. Reminding myself that things are good. It's my tired mind that's making me think otherwise.

Definitely yearbook-worthy pictures. Some of these will go to the school's IG account for sure. But not tonight. I will rest tonight.

I'm grateful for this 'journal'.

Today was about food.

A student had his 16th birthday today. His last year in our school. It was a little sentimental and their laughter seemed to have more mirth, knowing that it'll only be a few more weeks til the school year ends. Kinda like enjoying the last two hours before a good party ends.

Then his parents came with boxes of decadent chocolate cake. I've never heard of Big Al's Cookie Jar before, but I'll remember them now. It tasted like cake made before mass production was a thing. It tasted of richness and blooming chocolate, my eyes widened in surprise. Goodness. This...wow.

Before that, I had freshly picked cherry tomatoes from a teacher's garden, rice, and home-made salted egg, done by our school's boy friday. It topped it with a little liquid seasoning and that was it! That was breakfast, and it was truly delicious. I couldn't eat it fast enough.

Lastly, the menu I had been editing for the past few weeks finally arrived from the printers! They looked so cool! I'm so happy seeing it from screen to an actual product. Reading the food descriptions again, my mouth watered again. Maybe it's time to go back to Fred's. I'm just glad there were no errors nor misaligned texts. I realize that each time I design something, I always get excited to see in mocked up or printed.

Grateful for the food today. 🥰

Just one meal.

We had wanted to eat at a samgyupsal place for the past week. But we didn't get to go because stuff happened. Today was the day.

I just had my papers photocopied first, passed by a bookstore (I just love stationary and book stores!) and walked next door to the samgyupsal place.

They brought out the beautiful side dishes. We were hungry. The food was soooo good. Goodness! Then a server came up to us. He had a look of kind confusion on his face. The server asked, ma'am, did you order any meat?

My daughter and I looked at each other in surprise. We did. We checked the resto's online ordering system.

We hadn't.

Here we were, tearing into the appetizers, and the servers are scratching their heads thinking...that's ALL their eating?!

I let my daughter choose the meat. We were getting full from the kimchi, pickled radishes, potatoes, japjeh, and onion salad. Then 6 plates of meat arrived. There was even 2 slabs of pork. 3 big pieces of chicken. Our eyes widened. Okay. We didn't expect the generous servings either.

Ma'am, said another server, if you fail to finish all the meat you ordered, we have to charge you extra, okay? We nodded. We smiled.

And if you've read this far, y'all know what happened.

We waddled out of the resto, didn't pay any extra because we finished the meat like the good little girls we were. We should walk, we thought. We walked the length of Katipunan avenue (about 1.7 km), arrived at the mall, and got a Grab car from there.

We still can't believe we did it. We're still having difficulty laughing because it hurts. We had ended our meal at 2 p.m. It's now 9 p.m. as I write this and our bellies still feel like we had a meal a few minutes ago.

Would me do it again? Sure. Maybe next year.

Facing Fears.

I couldn't access Tumblr for a few days. I was scared that I had lost this blog and this 'journal'.

I had started a private IG account this week too. No followers, just a private space to build myself up again but better. It's me trying to be comfortable seeing my face and not recoil from shame or self-consciousness. Not for vanity. Just accepting that when I see my face, I can say that I like it. I can believe that I am worthy of good things. The goal is to ease into being seen, and being comfortable in it. Wow. Articulating this is difficult even to myself hahaha

The PH Gov't thought Tumblr was a gambling site?

If this blog is the journey and the self-talk I need, the IG account shows the hard work I put into healing and getting better. You can always get better at something, right?

Yet, I would still like to continue to write here. There is a freedom in "anonymity". The people I know don't have to read about the negative things living in my mind and heart. Not a lot of friends and family know my insecurities and wounds. Some don't even believe I have them hahahaha

So it's healthy for me to write my thoughts and purge them. Leave the emotions here. And in releasing, I can rewrite, reprogram and fill myself with healthier thoughts, and a cleaner self belief. (After the past 11 months, I'd like to think this system is working 🥰)

I love flowers.

THEN YESTERDAY...

My daughter and I had a breakthrough. It could have been worse. But it was gentle and healing. We know there was divine intervention at play, and we are grateful for this.

It had to do with a spontaneous meeting, a conversation, and a hard look at the root of certain fears. But, we proved this: parents have a HUGE impact on their children. They can scar, but they can heal too.

++++++

Numbing is a form of self protection. It is a refusal to look at something tender inside oneself. It is denying to feel something so deeply because it's scary.

If I don't feel it, I don't have to freak out. If I don't feel it, then it doesn't hurt. But it's there. Like a silent threat, quietly lurking in the shadows.

Avoidance doesn't mean you're handling it. A person can function well in daily life, but in numbing, it doesn't mean they're okay. A person knows they're avoiding something. Something important. And if denied for too long, it grows and it will soon scream for attention.

So a person could be avoiding situations, people, and even movies or shows with themes that reflect the feelings that they deny or fear.

We numb ourselves in different ways: by not being fully present for people. Acting on autopilot too often. Not allowing other people to get close or pushing people away. Inebriation. Unhealthy deep dives. And on, and on.

But in numbing, a person also denies the good feelings too. Real care. Real concern. Real love.

+++++

So yesterday was a breakthrough for both of us. It wasn't a fight. It was me listening, giving her space and time to speak. It was her reaching deep into her heart and saying what she needed to say. It was kinda amazing.

I still like cute things.

Old skill, old friend.

It's been a long while since I did corporate design again. Though this is for a friend, it's been years since I've worked with Adobe products again. Doing all the measuring and painstaking, non-automated adjustments that Canva has spoiled me with, this is a challenge, and it's one I'm happy to do.

I found myself remembering to keep saving my work (Google web products and Canva automates the saving process) and not lose any changes I've gotten just right.

I had my playlist of songs from the 80's and 90's, some that I can bob my head to, some to sing along too, but all of them, because they are so familiar, help me focus and get into the flow.

Disclaimer: I was only asked to update and clean up the bar's menu. It's been 3 hours already and I'm not yet done hahahaha

But ask any other designer, it's sometimes easier to update your own work than to tweak another designer's. Having said that, I am enjoying this mini challenge. Muscle memory and old tools are still present in Adobe's InDesign environment. If you are old enough, and you're still reading this post, I am proud to say that I worked with this software's predecessor, Pagemaker. 😉 Sound familiar?

When you get jealous of your student's art materials 😅

Grief and celebration.

My niece lost her eldest dog yesterday. It was painful and sad. The sweet little dog has been with her for the past 13 years, and has been her constant companion as she grew into independence.

Today, our senior housekeeper and caregiver celebrated her birthday with my daughter and I, two days in advance, because she knew we wouldn't be able to eat out on a week night. She wanted to eat the best Filipino food at her favorite restaurant, and we indulged her. She is a treasure. I am grateful that she took care of me since I was nine years old. Years pass and she has subsequently taken care of my daughter since she was an infant. She is still strong and persistent. She is family.

Now, I sit with mixed feelings. Realizing too that opposite emotions can exist in one space in time. All my feelings are valid. I think I'm just a tad worn out. A little sleepy. Grateful. Hopeful. Sad. Quiet. Prayerful.

So now I write. To commit my thoughts into words. Validating how I feel, and acknowledging their disparity. Now, I can release them onto this space for safekeeping.

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