Need to sleep early. I will be driving with the girls to my hometown at 5 am tomorrow. We need to be at my mom’s house at 8 so my girls can attend online classes on time. I have a call at 10:30 am and another call at 3 pm.
I have hosting duties on Saturday, that’s why I’m trying to be one day ahead
My girls have asked me if they can have haircuts because their pandemic hair already looked unruly. So since today is a Catholic holiday, I obliged and went to a salon that didn’t require prior appointment.
I took advantage of the free time and brought them to their dentist for their prophylaxis. What was supposed to be an emergency procedure (because Twin I broke her molar tooth but it turned out to be a clean break) became a routine procedure–annual cleaning. Might as well get that out of the way.
It was kinda awkward that one of the assistants asked about J, whom they referred to as the girls’ dad. I was at the waiting room when that was asked so I didn’t know. Isay honestly said, oh he’s not my dad and he’s no longer around.
The assistant said, oh but you looked like him that’s why I mistook him as your dad.
It must be the eyes. My girls got my small eyes.
Anyway, after dentist, we braved SM Marikina because I need to buy them underwear–especially bras–because they have grown up so fast. I’m surprised that they have matured earlier than me. My body started to change when I was 12 and really didn’t have pimples until I was in college.
Their choices for their clothes and other personal stuff are no longer child-like. They hate princess stuff and gravitate towards more mature colors like teal, grey, and black.
My little girls are no longer little. They’re turning into ladies. 🥺
At the same time, I’m preparing myself for the changes my body will also go through. This essay on Huffpost is like a slap in the face for me who had become so insecure about my age after I have had an ageist ex-partner who went after a girl almost 15 yrs his junior. I didn’t mind before that I was already 40. It was a badge of honor that I reached that age and hopefully much wiser. But then…I met J. Oh well 🤷🏻♀️
I have to get over that trauma. I’m fine. My age doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just me and my friends, who thankfully don’t care about my age. I just need to lose my belly and I’m ok.
I will be ok.
A friend just sent me this via FB Messenger a few minutes ago. She and I are both trying to heal from bad breakups. She even flew to Maryland from here to be with the guy but he just took her for granted. She went to NY and stayed with her brother to heal. She says she will be coming back home here if things don’t pan out there.
I told her, the reason I’m going back to my past is to rediscover some things I lost.
I may be wrong, but this is how I am coping with this trauma. This is how I pick myself up when I sink into my episodes. Because when you have trauma, the triggers will surely be pulled and the bullet will go straight into your head. Healing from trauma is managing how to get the bullet out of your head. Later I would learn how to dodge the bullet when the triggers are pulled.
In the meantime, I am sewing these masks so that my co-hosts and I would have uniform masks on Saturday for our high school alumni homecoming. Our class shirt is light blue so these teal masks are unisex and would go with our shirts. Sewing these keeps me busy and helps me remove the bullet from my head. Especially now that my first death anniversary is coming up on the 17th-18th–that is already next week!
I don’t feel ok.
Just had a session with my doctor this evening and i feel like my brain was drilled open and the things that I had been burying were hauled out. The things I keep suppressing burst out like a geyser.
It’s not your fault, she said. Stop whipping yourself. Give your self some credit. Be kind to yourself. He was just the wrong person. It’s not your fault; it’s just you had a lot of love to give–that’s all. You have to love yourself more, she said.
“Did he apologize to you?”
“No, not really. It’s a ‘sorry’ that went along the lines of ‘Sorry, it’s just that.’ But not really apology for hurting me. For using me. For his treatment of me towards the end that sent me over the edge,” I told my doctor. “But I have to reconcile with myself that I will never get that so I deal with it. I have to accept that I won’t get answers. You don’t get closure from someone else; you get your closure from within yourself.”
“What are you doing to get out of your episodes?”
“During lockdowns I couldn’t do anything much. Not even go biking to clear my head. Then I got Covid that further trapped me indoors and in my brain. Now that I can drive, I can see friends from way back. Those who knew me before shit had hit the fan. That’s why I’m going back to my roots; to what I was–to who I really am. To the things that made me like myself. It’s my way of loving myself,” I said.
“Good that you are able to pick yourself up now,” she said.
She then lowered my dosage of the anti-anxiety med, which may have been causing me to get sleepy more than necessary. She asked me if I could already sleep on nights I’m off it (because I now take it once every two nights). I said yes, I think so I can now.
I no longer wake up every hour, I said. Covid was bad; I was asleep 75% of the time but it was good that I made up for the months I haven’t been sleeping. It felt good,” I remarked.
Just like today, I was joined by my cats during my after lunch sleep. I always get sleepy by midday. Because of this I will just take my anti-anxiety med once every three days.
But my anti-depressant will still be there during my entire 12-month therapy. Hopefully I won’t have triggers by then. I wish the things that hurt me and had killed me over and over will just be a bad dream.
I bought this on the way to my hometown last weekend and it was only this morning I had the chance to replant them. My girls bought me pruning shears from Mr. DIY yesterday when they went out with their dad. I used the shears happily this morning and gardened until half past 1 pm.
Meanwhile, my cat loves to intervene in my bed-making chore. I was making my bed for my Zennya massage when she slipped under the covers and stayed there
My high school friends had been teasing me because one of the guys that we had a jamming session with (the guitarist) last week was messaging me on Facebook yesterday. True that it was odd he would be messaging me when I was the only girl in that group and in terms of friendship or closeness, I was the least close to him. He is one batch younger than us, a friend of my sister. One high school friend said, oyyyy he has a crush on you!
Too bad I’m already numb. I don’t feel anything. If I weren’t jaded and numb, I would have been flattered because he was the most popular and good-looking guy in our high school and when we were in college. But this tita is already… meehhhhhh.
Funny how things turn out.
This is how being numb feels like. Nothing. You’re just a rock. It’s like a default defense mechanism. I guess life would be easier this way.
It’s an understatement.
My APAC head was pirated by our former APAC head to join her in her new consulting firm. She will leave us in three months. I had been pushing for people to move up; was counting on her to back me up.
But then, I can’t fault her. She has been with the company since forever and she needed a new challenge.
I feel bummed out today after my call with her.
And I’m having a hard time hiring in Jakarta, Bangkok, and Singapore. My manager isn’t exerting much effort to help. I need to fill up these vacancies before my APAC boss leaves. I am going nuts here; my ass is tied to my chair and couldn’t really actively hire in these markets due to travel restrictions.
All the more that I shouldn’t move to Singapore; it’s too much of a gamble to uproot ourselves with this kind of leadership issues we’re having. Our former APAC head knows what my goals are and she knows that I’m not into client-facing jobs. I can chase stories and network like crazy but chasing contracts is a stretch for me. That’s why she hasn’t and she won’t pirate me.
One Singapore-based high school friend who is a lawyer for one of the big global investment banks told me I should grab the opportunity to relocate there. I pointed out to her the cost of sending children to school. She agreed that education for foreigners there is prohibitive but she said it’s doable. Well, with her income level it’s doable. Journalists don’t earn much in Singapore like bankers and lawyers and I would be pinching pennies there. I don’t want a lower quality of life just because we need to grab the opportunity to live in Singapore!
I hope I will feel better and optimistic tomorrow. Right now I’ll just wallow in frustration and sadness.
So now we have the right dimensions. This is about the same as some mid-priced condos here in Metro Manila but I have a garden and more space to move about outside. I can build an extra office or studio in the garden. Besides, when we’re back in my hometown, we won’t be spending our time inside all the time because it’s so easy to be outdoors there. The mountain is just by our doorstep. Sports and recreation is literally walking distance. My high school friends are even planning a year-end camping trip in Caliraya–those things are easy to manage when you already live there.
And when I’m old and grey, this space is easy to manage. I’ll just have a two-person elevator installed.