My humidifier with water-based oil scent. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
“Mama, why are you not working?” Twin I asked me when she caught me just lounging in my bed at 11 am.
“I’m on a mental health break,” I told her.
It’s true. I didn’t really have a complete “off” from work even in the middle of my Covid delirium. I was always “on” and one of my sources even scolded me for even answering his emails instead of resting when he learned I was sick with Covid. Ahhh, the curse of Type A people.
So today was my complete break from work (yesterday I still had to email a colleague because I spotted an error in our story that was published the previous day). I didn’t answer emails even though one subscriber emailed me early this morning about a request. That can wait. I’ll email back on Monday and he would understand since I had my automatic reply set up, telling people I’m on holiday.
But old habits die hard. I still checked LinkedIn, still answered a chat from a PR who messaged me about an event. 🤦🏻♀️ I gotta stop.
I have to be kind to myself. I must detach my identity and self-worth from my job. The world will not fall apart if I ignore work.
So I just lounged around and my intention to go to Makati or have my car go on maintenance check was foiled again by my laziness. I just watched videos and slept. Fatigue is still with me but I kinda accepted it now that I cannot push myself harder and have my usual energy and do a lot of things.
Be kinder to myself. No one’s going to kill me if I didn’t do those things today.
I read on Twitter that carmageddon was back last Friday, the eve of the Alert Level 3 (a.k.a loosening of lockdown to whatever) implementation. I am thankful that big events are still not allowed or else I would have been one of those suffering from a three-hour traffic jam on EDSA.
I have written numerous pieces about Metro Manila traffic and the car-centric culture that we have because our government since the beginning of time did not prioritize public transportation and kept on pandering to the oligarchs and the moneyed class–the ones who can afford to buy private cars. The Philippines was the first one to have a light railway transit in ASEAN, which was financed by foreign loans and helped the Marcoses get richer by the minute (just read between the lines).
Manila in 1984, during the time of Ferdinand Marcos, oversaw construction of the first electric rail line in ASEAN, but this system subsequently suffered from a lack of decent maintenance bringing a raft of problems. Finally it was repaired and renovated; in 2004 a second LRT line was added, and this was followed in 2005 by three MRT lines. Currently a one-line LRT expansion is in the planning stages. At present the entire rail system extends 47.9 kilometers.
Update: They have already extended LRT Line 2 up to Antipolo. MRT 7would also be completed soon.
So of course it was just a piece of trophy infrastructure project. Subsequent administrations did not prioritize public transport, and thus, we got left behind. Imagine, we were ahead of Singapore by three years and look at them now! I can get around Singapore without taxis most of the time there. Riding the bus there is not like going into a battlefield like here.
We used to have a 1,100-km railway from Manila to Legazpi City in Albay and my father used to take the train daily from Makati (where they lived during their first years of marriage) to UP Los Baños where he was a research assistant). It was doable. The Philippine National Railway system fell into disrepair because of this neglect and wrong priorities of past administrations. Every year we get choked by cars on highways and small backroads because we don’t have enough trains. Don’t talk to me about the controversies about the financing of these various train projects because I’ve been writing about them for 15 years or so and bugging Finance and Transport secretaries year in and year out about this and the corruption surrounding these projects is frustrating.
So now we have carmageddon that is getting worse every year. It takes a huge toll on our mental health and it is not easing up anytime soon. Not being able to chase stories physically (via in-person news coverage) is a major drag during this pandemic but it has helped me get off that carmageddon agony for almost two years. I realized now that life is super refreshing, despite Covid, without the traffic jam that sucked my soul.
AND if the plan to build my tiny house in my hometown pans out, I guess my travel time will be cut into half but I would have to drive 65 km one way everyday to Makati. Gas and toll would eat into my budget but it would be better for my sanity I guess. If I leave early enough from my hometown (like 6 am-ish) and leave Makati by 5pm, I would be home by 6:30 or 7pm. If I leave Makati at 10 pm, I would be in our hometown by 11 pm. From Makati to Quezon City pre-pandemic I would arrive home by 9 pm if I leave at 5 pm.
I did the hometown-Makati-hometown daily for a couple of years when the girls were still babies. I brought them to my mom’s house and we lived there for three months every summer to cool off because our old house in QC was like an oven. Plus playgrounds and grassy fields where they had picnics every afternoon were just walking distance–without cars and pollution. I drove from my hometown to Makati four times a week if I can help it. It wasn’t that much of a hassle
Now that I don’t have to be in Makati regularly because we already have a permanent Manila reporter (while I do my coverage of Southeast Asia remotely), I can limit my trips to Makati in a week. I could have my meetings and coverage/conferences confined all in one or two days. What would change though is I need to fly to Singapore frequently or somewhere else in Asia regularly (at least once a month, if things go according to plan). That can be solved by hiring my mom’s driver to drive me in my car to the airport and take the earliest flight out of Manila and have him drive me back again from the airport in Manila back to our hometown. Right now I’m spoiled by Grab.
I like living where I am now because everything is convenient since I have two supermarkets within walking distance from my apartment, I have a lot of food choices within Grab distance. If I need materials, furniture, appliance or whatever, I can just pop in the nearest SM (which is like 3 km). In my hometown, I am confined to whatever is available in our tiny mall and choices are very limited. No Grab.
But I have mountains, trees, fresh air, freedom to bike anywhere, walk to anywhere.
I think I’m at that stage where I’d choose to live a boring life than suffer 6 hours on the road daily. I’m done with night life of my youth (I’ve had plenty of those). I can finally leave Metro Manila for good.
Why do I blog when this is not even public and not indexed by search engines? Why do I even bother blogging anonymously?
Number one, I need an outlet to express my thoughts that I cannot share on social media. I have limited my FB engagement because it really does something to your brain, especially now that politics is so toxic and divisive. I maintain my Twitter because it is my source of fast news. I use Instagram for shallowness, like following hashtags like #workspaces, #hobonichi #travelersnotebook, #moleskine, etc. LinkedIn is just for work and personal branding.
I have no outlet to express my thoughts and emotions, where I can talk about the mundane and inane things. I sometimes need to practice writing other than business writing. My old school journal is for the things I need to express explicitly, naming names, places, specific things, specific events. Things that aren’t for consumption of people other than me.
I am a very opinionated person and I am expressive but mostly that is about current events and politics. Or about funny things. However, I am never comfortable about airing my personal struggles and dirty linen. I always try to maintain an air of dignity and I also think about the dignity of the other party involved in my dirty laundry.
Second, my blogs are my archive of whatever. My photos, my voice, my record of my daily life. For my kids. When I depart this universe, they will have something to come back to, to hear my voice in my writing and actual audio recording. So that when they miss me, they can still feel that I am with them, just somewhere, taking my grand vacation.
I started keeping journals since I was 10–their age right now. Because I was a diligent journal writer, I became I professional writer. I started publishing in high school–in a nationally circulated magazine in Filipino. I don’t know if Liwayway is still around but I was a published Filipino writer at first but I had always been a bilingual literary writer. I remember writing in one of my journals in high school that I keep journals for my future children. So they will understand how I went through adolescence, that I went through what they are going through. The insecurities, the heartbreaks, the self-doubts…all those raging emotions that a typical teenager go through. At the back of my mind I knew I will have daughters. I don’t know…it was just a gut feel. Even at 15 years old.
Then I started blogging in 2002-2003. I used Geocitiesto create my website and learned HTML codes to build it from scratch. I wrote about my travels. It was hard to keep up with it because building pages with just HTML codes is tedious. Because of the skills I learned from blogging then, I was able to build websites for our online store using Joomla. Then the WYSIWYG blogging tools came into being. I started with Blog-city, then Blogger, Blogspot, Multiply, then settled with WordPress. I remember in 2003-2005, my co-workers and I were reading each other’s blogs because all of us were just ranting about our editor whom we codenamed “Virgin Doll”. We called ourselves by our blog names like Luthien (me), Styar and Crimsonarrows. Then we got into different paths but we still kept in touch via our blogs. Then the rise of social media took over our blogging so that is that.
I couldn’t recover now my old blogs because the hosts became defunct. I tried saving some of the contents of my old blogs via TheWayBackMachine but most were irrecoverable. It’s really unfortunate because I need to use some of the contents for my annulment case.
Tracking my personal growth is easier too as I get to read entries from 10 years ago or older. It was a struggle to blog when I was still with my newspaper then because my life then was super competitive so all my free time was devoted to learning my business–reading books about investing, the stock market, reading all my magazine subscriptions to help me understand global events. When I woke up it’s about news–watching cable news and business channels–and before going to bed it was still news (magazines). When I got into broadcast/online, I found it easier to blog because Internet connection was easier due to the availability of my own mobile internet connection whereas when I was in the newspaper business, the only time I get to go online for personal reasons is when I got home and most of the time my brain was already fried and would rather vege out infront of the screen to watch my anime.
After my breakup with J, I had been blogging religiously for my sanity. I needed to let this all out. I needed to talk to myself by writing about myself for myself. It’s like the exercise that we had during a writing workshop I attended at the Philippine High School for the Arts–the stream of consciousness exercise, which is a literary device employed by writers, like it’s having a monologue to yourself. Aside from developing your own voice, stream of consciousness clears away the cobwebs that clutter a writer’s brain and help it organize the mind for more important writing tasks at hand. As I told my students, a good writer can already organize an outline of her piece in her brain; how to line up the facts, how the story/article will flow and how it will it arrive at the thesis of the piece. A really good writer knows how to edit and re-edit herself, keeping it to the simplest understandable form and being direct to the point. A good writer never stops editing her piece until it goes to the printing press.
Malcolm Gladwell, in his book Outliers, said one becomes an expert after devoting 10,000 hours to that specific task. The successful people have the advantages/resources to have these 10,000 hours. So I am privileged enough to be able to devote time to writing other things so I can practice my craft and not waste my free moments scrolling through social media. I must constantly write, edit, and re-edit my entries so I will not lose my “voice”, how I process my thoughts, how I can write quickly without any outline in my head.
Practice, practice, practice. Read, read, read.
Blogging also helps me write even though my heart is breaking into a million pieces. Writing through tears and pain. It’s very cerebral work and it’s hard to deliver if your mind has already shut down. No one really cares if a writer/journalist is hurting so she still has to write and deliver work. Writing despite all these debilitating circumstances helps a writer conquer emotions and plod along. It also helps in the numbing process.
This is why I still keep on paying for my web hosting year in and year out. It’s all worth the money.
Duterte and his administration are really afraid of women. For all his misogynistic attitude towards women, deep down he is really scared of us. Look at those who rose up against him: VP Leni Robredo, Sen. Leila de Lima (jailed), Hidilyn Diaz (harassed by government), and Maria Ressa, Nobel Peace Prize laureate.
He loves to harass and belittle female journalists. It is a scary time to be a journalist in this country. We had been a hotspot for journalist killings for years now (we were the most dangerous place for a journalist next to Iraq for quite some time now) but it has heightened during the reign of Duterte. I am glad I no longer have to report national news and suffer through his Q&A, press conferences with Harry Roque, or even monitor Duterte’s late night ramblings.
“Many Philippine presidents have attacked the press, but only Rodrigo Duterte, of all the presidents, have publicly subscribed to the idea that journalists are fair game for murder,” Varona says.
Because of the dangers we are facing with Duterte’s rise to power, some veterans in the industry like Howie Severino, Glenda Gloria, and Sheila Coronel, called us to a meeting in a secluded restaurant in Quezon City just to talk about forming a guild so that we can protect ourselves and fight back. Sadly, nothing happened after that initial meeting because we were just too damn busy trying to survive our day-to-day work of churning out stories. This was the week I got brutally attacked by government-backed online trolls that even harassed my office in Hong Kong.
I had issues with Maria Ressa and I won’t list them down here and those who had been in the industry long enough know what those are. But I admire her grit and determination to fight this tyrant single-handedly. I had marched alongside them wearing black when they had the march for press freedom in UP.
Since day one of becoming a journalist–since I co-wrote that series on juvenile justice–I knew that every time I publish a story, I have one foot on my grave. I had been threatened with lawsuits before and I had been scared but I pushed on. Being a journalist during the time of Duterte, even if you are not covering him, is a doubly dangerous job. I was told that a powerful government official does not like me because I am vocal about my anti-Duterte stance. And he scolded me and lost his cool on national TV when I was hosting a forum where he was a guest. I was asking a fair question that everyone needed to ask. It was scary but I had to keep my composure. I was told he and other officials boycotted the forum the following year because of me.
I had friends in Reuters publicly lynched by the mob, having their IDs, photos and personal information posted on the Internet, with trolls encouraging the public to inflict physical harm on them and their families. (Upon investigation by some of my other journo friends, my Reuters friends’ personal information was leaked from their records with the National Bureau of Investigation–information that they got whenever we needed clearance to apply for visas or passports). In a country where life is very cheap (you can have somebody killed for only PHP 5,000), those are not empty threats. Their employer had to take them and their families to safehouses until the storm died down. I was so distraught that time that I had to take a break from the Philippines and went to a place where no one spoke English–Taiwan–and took a breather to collect myself for a week. I just didn’t want news from the Philippines and I just had to be away immediately.
But Maria Ressa had to endure conviction, harassment, bankruptcy, and daily mental torture and yet she plodded on. She had to wear bullet-proof vests whenever she goes out. Because it’s no secret Duterte wants her dead.
This administration has demonized us. It’s in every dictator’s playbook–demonize every journalist and create your own propaganda machine and feed your shit to the public that has lost trust on the media. Now you all have this revisionism going on and conspiracy theories that make the maleducated poor believe the lies.
Journalists in South America face drug cartels and the corrupt government officials in cahoots with them, we in Southeast Asia battle despots like Duterte and the Marcoses. Journalists in Russia, China (in HK, that is), and the Philippines face the same thing.
My daughter expressed her interest in becoming a journalist. I told her, anak, you can become whatever you want but I hope you don’t follow my footsteps. You will be penniless and you will get killed.
I cooked brunch today then I slept again after that. It’s unbelievable that I was still exhausted from yesterday’s trip. Then I woke up a little past noon when I was asked by my daughter to sign a proof of delivery as some industry friends sent me baked lasagna and blueberry cheesecake so I didn’t have to cook a midday meal or even dinner. My daughter, Twin I, and I gardened in the afternoon. I transplanted this flowering plant (I wasn’t able to get its name) and herbs I bought yesterday along CP Garcia Ave on the way home from UP where I bought our vegetables.
Basil and dill in our “dirty kitchen”. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Then we planted some vegetable seeds in new plastic pots that I will transfer to our “dirty kitchen”/laundry area because this area receives so much sunlight all day. The vegetables and herbs will be protected from aphids outside plus we can just pluck leaves from our kitchen “garden” when we cook.
After gardening, I slept again and when I woke up, it was already dark.
Gardening is some kind of therapy for me these days as I still couldn’t go out due to fatigue. Watching something you grow and nurture is also fulfilling, like having my girls with me.
Speaking of nurturing, the stray cats that reside outside our compound have moved inside the compound as our neighbor had also been feeding them and tamed them. We also have been feeding these cats since we moved in here in October 2018–exactly three years ago! Our neighbor had put pet collars around them so people would know someone had already adopted them and think twice about abusing them.
Brushing him with a toothbrush. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
So this white cat has been trying to make himself cute to us while we were gardening this afternoon. He would lie down and go belly up and curl, something that my inside cats would do when they’re begging for some petting. Of course I didn’t pet it with my bare hands so what we did was we got a toothbrush and brushed it so it can have some grooming and belly rubs. It loved all the attention and loving touch. The girls were begging me if they can give the cat a bath, I said no because it’s not yet tame enough and we don’t know what kind of diseases it has. We have to tame it completely before we can do that. The compromise was we brushed on flea powder on it and the cat loved the brushing so much that it begged for a repeat tonight when I was checking out my partially charged fairy lights.
Kittykat waiting for us to play with him. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
When this cat finally becomes tame, I would bring it to PAWS to be neutered, checked, vaccinated and de-wormed. Then we will give it a bath. However, it will still have to live outside because I don’t want to have chaos in my house. We will just make some kind of cat house outside so they will be protected from the elements. I would have to buy wooden crates and I have some fiberglass roofing here that I used for my “dirty kitchen”.
They say a woman who has sworn off marriage and choose to live single the rest of her life would become a crazy cat lady. I guess I’m turning into that now…which is fine by me. Cats are obnoxious animals but when they do give you love, it’s real. They don’t give you bullshit.
Gather the little things that put a smile on your face and your day would be brighter. It’s like gathering flowers from a field to take with you home so you would be reminded that life is indeed worth living.
My cats are destructive but their antics make me laugh.
Look at that guilty face! Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Gotcha! Caught in the act! I banished my cats from my room after the bad deed. Kimchi looked so guilty while Sushi made her escape quickly. They know when they did something they shouldn’t have.
Meanwhile, my solar-powered fairy lights have arrived. But I wasn’t able to charge them enough because they arrived late in the afternoon when the sun was already weak. But at least I know they’re working and automatically turn on when it’s already dark.
The lights are weak and I should fix the hanging tomorrow; they’re not balanced. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I should order more solar-powered garden lights, like the starburst or flower lights so when we sit outside on a clear and cool night like tonight, we are properly illuminated.
I can’t believe it’s already October and I have nothing to show for it. In December-January, I didn’t know how I would survive the coming days when I was dying everyday. I was taking one step at a time: wake up, get out of bed, eat, push myself to work, and then try to sleep again even though sleep evaded me. Then it was one day at a time. Baby steps. Until I got past the first month of being able to survive a broken heart. Then two months…and now it’s October. At that time I couldn’t imagine how life would look like 6 months or 10 months from then.
Then I survived and lived. With the help of friends who pushed me to get well physically, mentally, and emotionally.
It’s still October and yet I’m already feeling festive. I will be buying more Christmas crap from Lazada and Shopee tonight. I’m ordering book shelves from Ikea online to hide the cat litter box (I was able to hide another cat litter box under a chair I added next to the sofa) and probably look for patio furniture.
