More than a decade ago, I was writing a novel and this song was playing in my head, like the main protagonist was singing this and this served as one of the themes in the entire novel. I had destroyed and forgotten that novel but this song stayed. Another song that kept playing in my head alongside this one was “Gravity” by Sara Bareilles, but that’s for another entry.

I think about this song and I remember how I thought I found the person who saved me from an eternal lonelines—but I was so completely wrong. I didn’t get past the part of the lyrics where Gotye sang, “And I could not love/’Cause I could not love myself/Never good enough, no…”

That was the culprit. That lack of love for myself that always got me into a hot mess. Every time.

So now every time I listen to this song when I drive my car, I think, is there somebody out there who would sing the last stanza of this song for me?

Or maybe I’m supposed to sing Adele, “Next time, I’ll be braver/I’ll be my own savior standing on my own two feet…”

Save Me

In the mornings
I was anxious
It was better just to stay in bed
Didn’t want to fail myself again
Running through all the options
And the endings
Were rolling out in front of me
But I couldn’t choose a thread to begin

And I could not love
‘Cause I could not love myself
Never good enough, no
That was all I’d tell myself
And I was not well
But I could not help myself
I was giving up on living

In the morning
You were leaving
Traveling south again
And you said you were not unprepared
And all the dead ends
And disappointments
Were fading from your memory
Ready for that lonely life to end

And you gave me love
When I could not love myself
And you made me turn
From the way I saw myself
And you’re patient, love
And you help me help myself
And you save me,
You save me,
You save me

i was once a supernova
died
with brilliant burst of light
and then little by little i fell unto myself
collapsed
dust, i still lingered
for far too long
i was once a memory
but faded away
the dark sky swallowed me
until i was no more
i now join the billions of stars
but no longer shining
i am here but not here
i am no longer a memory
i no longer exist
as he wiped me out
to blend into the eternal night

I had chopped off my long hair when I was so heartbroken in December 2020. I kept my hair long for my ex because he liked it that way. Cutting it really short was an act of rebellion on my part, sort of taking back control when I couldn’t have the same kind of agency in other aspects of my life then. I told the hairdresser, “Give me a haircut that would give justice to a girl who was dumped by her partner.” My hairdresser understood the assignment.

For years I kept it short and always went back to that hairdresser because he understood what I was going through.

Last year when we had our professional headshots taken c/o my company, I still kept my hair short. Professional. Intimidating.

I didn’t realize that it has been a year since I had a haircut. I had grown it long again and I haven’t been bothered by it. Maybe because I’m past the survival mode stage. Maybe because I am truly healing, not the contrived healing I had set for myself during the first two years. Last year was hard because I uprooted myself and my kids from the life I’ve known the last 20 years and started over. It was hard because of Twin A’s health crisis.

However, 2023 was cathartic, too. I learned how to be stronger and became really happy with how my life turned out, despite the challenges.

When I reflected on this—my hair and what it meant—I realized I no longer have hate reigning in my heart. I think I no longer hurt. I think I have reached the apathy stage. Maybe I’m at this stage where my urge to throw my shoes at him if I encounter him is no longer that strong.

My regret is that I had those last three agonizing years with me, leaving deep scars on me.

My hair is long again. Does it mean I am trying to be attractive to the opposite sex again? I’m not sure. I’m happy with the way things are.

I’m just happy taking care of myself.

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Tabby cat (not the tabby with socks) was weak last night, probably a side effect of the antiparasitic med I gave him. He was just out of it and I was afraid he would die the next day. I brought him liempo bone that he just sniffed and ignored while his siblings were greedily gnawing at theirs.

I was desperate. I forced it to take Vit C via syringe and reconstituted powdered filled milk, via syringe as well. Twin I and I patiently force-fed it with milk—the only thing I knew that saved Kimchi when she was about that age and was just newly adopted by us, fresh from the storm drain. Kimchi also suffered from infections that time and had to be inserted with IV because she was in really bad shape.

Anyway, I patiently made sure Tabby was fed and given strength. Towards midnight, he was strong enough to go down the stairs and interact with mommy cat.

Now, he’s running around like nothing happened. 😊 (See photo above, he’s the skinny one).

He probably vomited or had diarrhea because of the antiparasitic med I gave him. His other siblings didn’t have the same reaction so they were fine and were running around the utility area and barren garden. The dosage might have been too much (0.5 ml).

I took a break outside to snack on junk food. I know it’s bad but it’s Friday and I’m not going anywhere.

And this is the last story I am editing for this week. So far, so good. No drama, no skirmishes with boss.

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This is how my desk looks like for the past 24 hours or so. I’ve been busy setting up meetings, filling up my calendar for my trip to SG in a few weeks. I need to justify the cost of being there despite the fact that 1) I head the region and we would be hosting a conference; 2) my office is there.

It’s really ridiculous. It’s not my fault that the parent firm/owner is highly leveraged that they’re being stingy in so many ways. I had to defend why I need to fly on a Sunday instead of a Monday (to save on hotel booking). I said, even if I take the earliest flight on a Monday, half of the day is already gone because I would be able to get out of the airport at almost noon. I would also be battling sleeplessness since I have to drive to the airport at 1:30 am so I can have enough time to deal with the long queue at immigration in NAIA. I booked Philippine Airlines so I don’t have to deal with the horrible queues at Terminal 3.

I have a million and one things to do.

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The daily househelp next door finally took Tuxedo kitty home. She is the first to be adopted in the litter of five. Before I had let her go, I administered deworming medicine to her along with her siblings. I gave her new owner the rest of the medicine since she needed to take that again twice, two weeks apart. I’ll just buy another bottle for the rest of the litter.

Her cries were so pitiful as she was taken away in the cat carrier I lent her new owner. She can no longer play with her siblings 😢. But adoption is the best option for these kitties because I cannot have them all inside my tiny house.

Meanwhile, I administered antiparasitic medicine topically on the adult cats as prescribed by the vet who spayed Ampon. For my indoor cats, Sushi and Kimchi, they only needed to have this every three months (good, because it’s pricey) but for the outdoor cat, Ampon, this needs to be a monthly thing.

😩 It’s costly to keep animals healthy. But as they say, single women collect cats as they grow older. I don’t know why.

Maybe because cats love me back whereas human males just use me and then discard me once my usefulness has expired. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I shouldn’t be hard on myself. If things are not going as fast as I want them to be, then I should be patient. Pushing too hard may cause me to choose the wrong path for me. Anyway, no one is putting a deadline on me except myself. Like all my interview requests aren’t coming back to me immediately and it has taken them weeks to reply about a date and time. Just like the gigs I want to get; initial meetings aren’t getting scheduled as soon as I want them.

So having two clients by June may not be that easy.

I should be less emotionally involved with my work. The editor who I once had skirmishes with a few years ago told me in HK that in order for me not to go crazy because my boss is being insufferable, I should get away from my desk figuratively after 5 pm. He told me the problem with me is that I am too invested, too emotionally tied to my work. “You take work seriously,” he said.

Yeah, that’s the problem. I’m too passionate about work. I also identify myself too much with my profession. My identity is too much tied to what I do.

Because I loosened up my timetable, I allowed myself to spend on big-ticket items the past few days. My reason is that when I have already transitioned into a new role while still building up my name/income, I wouldn’t be able to afford to replace my mobile phone and that of my daughters. So this past weekend I replaced Twin A’s four-year-old phone, which she inherited from me, with a new but entry-level one. Then yesterday, I bought myself a new, mid-level phone and passed on my two-year-old but higher end phone to Twin I.

They take turns in inheriting higher end phones from me so everything is fair and square. They’re good kids; they haven’t caused me too much grief (of their doing) and they help me with chores. They know now how to be responsible for themselves and the house. In terms of academics, I wouldn’t ask for anything more. I expect them to get the highest honors and high honors by the end of the school term in June.

Since I already pushed back my timetable from June to yearend—I initially thought I could step down from my management position and go freelance by then—my budgeting for expenses has become more flexible. I still have time to have surgery on my osteoma and have another executive check-up while Twin A is winding down her therapy. I may step away from my job and be independent by next year, 1Q25 instead of end-2024.

Work slowly and live gracefully. No one is chasing me. If something is for me, then it will find me. Just like when finding a partner, the more you pressure yourself and not take things easy, the worse it’s going to be. You will choose the wrong person. It’s like eating fruits before they are ripe… Hinog sa pilit.

So my message to myself is: be patient, work hard on it. It will work out in the end. God has always been kind to me.

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I’m not a millennial (a young GenX or Xennial) but this article from the Guardian embodies what I’ve been feeling all along: wanting a “softer life”. However, the interviewees here are all single and childless so they can afford to halve their salaries and be underemployed for a kinder life.

Increasing private school tuition puts a lot of pressure on single mothers like me. I can’t just do what they did but it seems like that’s my direction. The big thing weighing on my mind is, I would be sacrificing financial freedom for mental health when I have dependents still in school.

So what am I to do?

At this point, I really don’t know.

Probably, just work and give the bare minimum—the quiet quitting—until I can become an independent contractor or consultant.

All my life as a mother, I always had a million and one things racing through my head that’s why I always seemed like a scatterbrain or negligent. But they don’t know I had to balance so many things and I always needed to think ahead. I couldn’t live in the moment because there were so many people and things dependent on me. My mental and physical health suffered. It is exhausting. If only I could choose the “soft life” this article is talking about.

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