Never doubt myself again

Jo and I were talking about gaslighting and how it affects one’s own ability to believe in her own gut feel and overall confidence. Constant gaslighting erodes a person’s sound judgment and in the long run her mental health gets warped. That’s how abusers take control of the situation and that’s how victims get stuck–they constantly second-guess themselves about feeling something was not right and she should take action. It takes a lot of mental unpacking to be able to heal from that kind of psychologically abusive relationship.

I am advocating for women to seek counseling or therapy if they suffered from traumatic breakups. It’s not petty. It’s not nagiinarte. One’s healing or non-healing will dictate the course of her future relationships (not just romantic) with other people and also with herself. The problem with a patriarchal society is that women are told to “just sleep on it” or “here, eat some ice cream” when we undergo this seismic shift. Jo said that it’s unfortunate that she knows three people who are like this and are not seeking proper counseling.

Gaslighting is cruel. It’s a form of manipulation by narcissists by invalidating the victim.

I should never doubt myself again.


I did not sleep at all. If I did, I only had 30 mins of uninterrupted sleep last night, despite taking 6mg of melatonin. Then every so often I wake up that I finally gave up sleeping. I should stop my brain from thinking at night.

Lavender candle during a webinar. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I had a hard time concentrating today because of my lack of sleep so I lighted my lavender-scented candle to help me feel good while listening and taking down notes during a webinar where they talked about widespread loan restructuring and interest rate differentials.

Now I’m writing a long-ish article since I find that I can concentrate better at night. Which should not be the norm because this time should be down time already.

I want this nightmare to end.


There’s this guy with a Chinese name who wanted to connect on Instagram via direct message. I was to dismiss him but my curiosity was sparked since there were a lot of Chinese bots that followed me (which I eventually blocked) on Twitter. It’s not a secret that CCP monitors journalists abroad, especially those who have retweeted the HK protests and the West Philippines Sea debacle.

So I chose to engage. Who are you, I asked. He said he is a dentist in Belgium but originally from Taiwan. Hmmm suspicious. Why do you want to follow me, how did you come by my profile when it’s private? He said he was scanning for someone on IG when he came across my profile and wanted to be friends. Still very suspicious. Since I have no way of checking his IP address, I investigated whom he was following.

Well, they were all random Filipino women. All 600+ of them.

Dear God, why am I always in the line of sight of predators?! I never provocatively posed in photos, I always dress conservatively, and my all my social media profiles are always private (except for Twitter because that’s for monitoring purposes). Even on my LinkedIn, which is a professional networking platform, there are those who attempt to use it as a pick-up platform like Tinder. I have reported and blocked those predators.

The only way I can stay safe from predators is to stay away from all men.


Meanwhile, here’s my quick coloring of Imee Marcos’ caricature as A Witch Named Imee as a Mango. Stuff of nightmares.

Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Twin A asked me to draw a picture of the three of us and she specifically asked for bunnies.

Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Art day

My cat, Sushi, tore the watercolor drawing I was trying to salvage. Oh well.

This is what Twin A has been doing if she’s not creating flowers or mushrooms with polymer clay.

Studying shadows and light. Art by Twin A, photo by CallMeCreation.com

Because she’s been learning by herself with the help of videos and online resources, I decided to have an art day today as self-love gifts to ourselves. We went to Art Bar in National Bookstore along Quezon Ave to buy supplies. I prefer that branch because there are only a few people there.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com

These charcoal pencils below used to be my medium of choice. I don’t know why I stopped drawing with charcoal. Ah! Because they were hard to buy in our hometown and I needed to go to Manila whenever I ran out of supplies. If there were charcoal pencils in our local art/school supplies stores, they were limited since the pencil number/grades available are few.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Twin A chose this today so I guided her in buying supplies such as erasers and blotters because those were the things that I often ran out of/went missing. It’s hard to blot/blend with just fingers at times. The little jars there are charcoal dust but I should just teach her how to make her own.

Brushes. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Of course I bought my own supplies because I find drawing/painting more therapeutic because intrusive thoughts are less compared to sewing by hand.

After I get the hang of it again, I’ll graduate to the 90 colors. I used to work with water color tubes but they dry out on me fast and the tubes harden = unusable. I like the pan-type because they’re transportable and the artist I admire these days showed me that pans are as versatile as tubes.

This guy, Jose Naranja, inspired me to have an art journal. I was too chicken to start a few years ago but now that I need art therapy, I think I can start with my Moleskine drawing notebooks I had been keeping for a couple of years.

After ArtBar/National Bookstore (Twin I bought crochet hooks and yarn), we proceeded to Wilcon Home Depot to check out bathroom fixtures for our flat. I decided to push back the construction to November because 1) we had omicron in the compound; 2) Right after construction we can move in instead of letting the flat be empty for six months before we move in. So whatever adjustments we need to do, the workers/contractor are still on-call.

The twins convincing me to have these granite flooring for the bathroom. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I like this compact tub. I wonder how much it’s going to cost transporting from QC to my hometown…Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Testing the rain showers. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Deep kitchen sinks. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Checking out kitchen counter tops. I told them I don’t like tiles. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I vetoed a shower enclosure. You always have to wipe off the enclosure every after shower, which is double the work. If you neglect doing it, water streaks or scaling will appear over time. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Checking out more loft beds. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

It was a lovely day out for us with less humans around. We treated ourselves to stuff that will keep us busy in the following days. Until the girls had their second vax dose, I think we better stick to more domestic activities before we venture out of Metro Manila again.

Rusty, wrong materials

I’m missing the sea. Now that it’s getting hotter, the call of the sea has been growing stronger than ever. K told me he’s going to be in Boracay next week for a week’s stay. I bet he would be having a sexy Valentine’s date/s on Monday. He should just spare me the details.

The pencil sketch looked promising…

Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com

But I can’t translate it into watercolor. Even though this is a Moleskine drawing notebook, it is NOT a watercolor paper drawing notebook. The colors bleed and the paper keeps piling. My Sakura Pigma Micron drawing pens are missing. I could only use my Pilot Dr. Grip pen to make outlines.

I think I should stick to pencils and charcoal in the meantime until I get myself proper watercolor papers and more practice. It has been 25 years since I did my last watercolor.

I’ll try to salvage this one tomorrow. I’m just a bit tired. I spent 4 hours gardening today, re-potting plants and removing old soil that has been infected by nematodes and root rot.

Aside from that I cooked brunch and dinner.

Omelette rice for brunch. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I only got 1 hr of nap today. I again was woken up at 4 am and had a hard time falling back to sleep. However, I did get better quality sleep last night after taking melatonin. I should try to make it 6 mg tonight so I can have a bit of deep sleep.

It’s better to be tired at least there’s less time thinking about the things I shouldn’t be thinking about so I hurt less. I wish it’s that easy. Thinking about dating again makes my stomach churn. I don’t think I’m made for this. I think I’ll be better solo.

My friend from my old TV network asked me if I want to have a date on Monday, because he knows someone interested and he can play match-maker. I said NO. The thought made my skin crawl. After my vehement no, my friend said he was only joking.


The Marcoses are really out of touch. Imee Marcos mocks people who work 18 hrs a day.

Ka Leody blasts Imee Marcos video mocking people who work 18 hours a day

Sen. Imee Marcos. and Labor leader and presidential aspirant Leody De Guzman. ABS-CBN News/file

Out of anger, I made a caricature of her. She is called mangga (mango) because of her long chin.

Mangga Imee. Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Dark soul

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

This one will take me longer than I expected because this is completely dark…like my soul right now. This is just rough sketch, no textures and dimension yet, no proper human figure, since I need to study the shadows and light first. Once I figure out the proper chiaroscuro, I can translate this to watercolor–maybe.

This scene reminds of Robert Frost and Edgar Allan Poe combined.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

I gravitate now towards the imagery painted by Edgar Allan Poe. Dark. Wicked. My heart is full of anger and hatred. Especially that the woman I got cheated on with has a name and face (although she looks like a transvestite, my friends and my daughters said; all boobs but no substance). What angers me is the fact that everything was a lie. I was led on. From the very beginning. All the memories I cherished now have no meaning. Can’t help but feel like I was that Bloomberg reporter who was used by Martin Shkreli a.k.a. Pharma Bro. The difference is that she’s still under this illusion that he really cared for her when he already dropped the bomb like it was just all on her side, “Mr. Shkreli wishes Ms. Smythe the best of luck in her future endeavors.”


Arts and humanities have saved my life/sanity (somehow…I’m still working on that sanity part with my shrink). As my high school Literature teacher said: Science can tell you how your eyes produce tears and its composition. Literature (or humanities in general), on the other hand, tells you why there are tears…

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray …

Christina Rosetti (1830-94)

This was my favorite poem when I was in high school. I remember I did a watercolor painting with these words written on the painting. I remember the watercolor painting had a cliff against an orange-pink sky. Similar to this photo below:

Laguna Lake, Angono, Rizal. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I’m channeling all my negative energy/feelings to whatever my hands can do, with the help of the arts I learned throughout my years in school. I may not be good but at least I can do something. My mom said she is envious of me that I have outlets like writing, music, and drawing to express grief. She didn’t have any that’s why the Catholic church was her only solace. She said without the church, she would have gone insane because of my father.

Yep, getting badly treated by men runs in my family. That’s why I am open to my children about this so they won’t commit the same mistake. My mom’s mistake was she defended my father and hid everything. She normalized a man’s bad treatment of his partner and that “you just have to understand where he’s coming from.” That was a fatal mistake.

My girls said, “No Mommy, we will not get married. We won’t date.” Twin I was most hurt because she admired Tito J. She said she even picked up tea drinking because of him. She always tried finishing her vegetables because that was Tito J expected of her. Now she has sworn off men–I feel bad for her having her heart broken like this. She looked up to him. She said he was only scolding them for the bad habits because he wanted them to be better. Twin A said Tito J was right about the iPads and school. The only thing that they didn’t like about him was he squeezed their cheeks too much that it hurt.

It was another thing that bugs me. I let him hurt them…I knew he didn’t like them so he resorted to hurting them. That was so wrong on my part. That’s why I blamed myself for putting him first before them.

I want my girls to be closer to my brother, physically and emotionally, so at least they would have a better role model. I want them to be closer to my brother’s sons. I don’t want them to have unhealthy relationships with men when they become adults. Proper training and open discussion can hopefully guide them when it comes to friendships and romantic relationships. I didn’t have those. Good thing I had good male friends in high school and college–even now with fellow journalists. I was lucky I had good platonic relationships with them. However, when it comes to romantic relationships, I just picked up whatever I grew up with, which was not healthy. And these are things I learned growing up: try to keep it to yourself; give all your unconditional love because love conquers all; be a doormat; make excuses for him and understand where he is coming from; it’s ok if he hurts you because you can win back his love…ALL BULLSHIT. All I learned from my mom.

I don’t have the heart to tell her all of these because…what’s the point? She will just feel bad forever. She already felt bad when she saw how my marriage crumbled. She told me she saw herself in me.

Fuck it. I walked away from it and sashayed into a more evil story. Now mom, you still see yourself in me???

Long have I longed, till I am tired
Of longing and desire;
Farewell my points in vain desired,
My dying fire;
Farewell all things that die and fail and tire.

Christina Rosetti

3:57 am. I need sleep. This anxiety is really killing me. Being angry and sad at the same time is never good for me. I really wish I could do an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and just erase everything. Be blissfully ignorant of this kind of pain. K asked me, I thought you’ve already accepted that he was not a good person? I said, “I know, but somehow I naively believed that in the beginning it was real, so I kept the memories because those were the only redeeming things left of him. Now I realized I was completely wrong. Now it hurts me even more that even those memories I held of him were wrong. It’s like you loved your parents so much, unconditionally, and then they betrayed you. That all the things you thought all your life were the truth were really lies. That they fed you lies. And now you are trying to live your truth but their lies continue to follow you to haunt you. Now how do you think I can heal?! I was getting successful at it and then he throws this curve ball. You know how hard I worked at it, K. You are the one who was there from the beginning. I tried so hard, K. You know that.”

Time check: 4:14 am.

I guess I won’t sleep tonight, huh?

How are you?

Friends had been asking me, “How are you?”

I sent them this sketch:

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

No need for words. Because words aren’t enough.

There are times when writers fail but visual artists succeed in conveying indescribable emotions. That’s why I appreciate artists who could take an image to the next level. Writing is a very complex cognitive process and if your heart and brain are not in sync, it’s nearly impossible to finish the task. And my brain and heart are already tired finding the right words. That’s why I resorted to drawing again. It’s more of the emotions pushing every pencil stroke. You just have to think about where the light is coming from–chiaroscuro. Today’s drawing is composed of soft lines because I want to be nicer to myself. Yesterday was all about harsh and angular lines because I was very angry. I’m debating whether I should complete tonight’s sketch or I leave it as is, because the feeling it evokes is enough.

Despite my emotional state today, I still managed to have a call, finish an analysis piece, and work on some emails. I NEED TO SLEEP! I have an interview with a CEO of a global company tomorrow morning. Oh God, help me sleep.


It’s 2:37 am. Been waking up every 30 mins or an hour. But this shouldn’t happen because I just took alprazolam at 10 pm. I’m so fucked up.

Please, let me sleep in peace. I don’t deserve this PTSD.

House of Gucci

The last time I saw a film in theaters was when J and I watched Ip Man 4 in Eastwood. That was two or three days before lockdown last year. I’m still scared of going into tight and enclosed spaces but this movie, House of Gucci, makes me want to forget about Covid.

But I’m not stupid. I’ll just wait for it to be streamed online probably.

There’s something mesmerizing about Lady Gaga here. I’m no fan of hers but she was completely erased here and all I see was Patrizia Reggiani. Jared Leto looked comical in this one but he is not Jared Leto here; he has become a caricature of Paolo Gucci. I love Jared when he leads 30 Seconds to Mars and even I can’t reach his notes. I have yet to see a mature Jared Leto acting. I watched him as a pretty boy in some TV shows and movies during my pre-teen and teeny bopper days.

I just wish I could watch movies in theaters again. Or watch live theater performances without fearing for my life. 😓

Meanwhile…

I saw my curtains move in the middle of the night.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Of course, it has to be a cat. Photo by CallMeCreation.com