My cats trying to share the beer with me while I attend one press conference. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My world has turned upside down. I used to look forward to the weekends because I can get off work. These days I dread the weekend because it leaves my brain idle…and against my own volition I just find myself walking down the memory lane. Then become haunted by his ghost and I go back to that cruel cycle of losing sleep and being unbalanced again.
So thank you, Lord, for making me busy these days because that leaves me little time to think about anything else.
So like today, I edited a couple of stories in the morning then had back-to-back virtual press conferences/webinars. It drains my brain but it’s better than having an active brain at night. To survive the busy day, I had one can of beer to stimulate my brain and keep me company instead of coffee. I can’t sleep these days if I drink coffee.
The downside of being busy is that I wasn’t able to have my exercise (either bike or walkathon) in UP.
It’s unfair that I get to be like this while he doesn’t fucking care if I’m still alive and he is able to enjoy life like nothing happened. He is sleeping with somebody else now while I have developed a revulsion toward anybody outside my circle of friends because everyone else is not to be trusted. As The Script sang, you don’t get breakeven in breakups. One of you will suffer more.
I wish events and meetings can be face-to-face again so I can be busier and won’t have mental space for anything else. So I won’t have to drink beer while attending press conferences because coffee keeps me up all night.
My friend said I will never find answers to my questions. There are things that we cannot find any resolutions or pieces to complete the puzzle. It is what it is. There are things that aren’t meant to be answered.
Stop asking. Leave them be. Stop looking for answers, she said.
I just need to get out of my head. Been living in my head for so long.
UP Observatory. We never had a chance to check out the telescope there. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
During my bike ride last week, I was able to slip through some back entrance to the Science Complex to bike in peace and to catch a glimpse of the place. I was wondering why the place still had a special meaning to me, despite all that was said and done. I went cycling around the amphitheater and then it dawned on me: Our daily walks there during the strict lockdown in April and May last year was like a simulation of what it feels like if we were the only ones left in the world. It was like just the two of us against the world. Just the two of us. Walking hand-in-hand, stealing kisses, being free from the restrictions that were imposed on us by the lockdown, by our responsibilities, and by circumstances. It was just being in that moment, the “now” that was enveloping us, and the feeling of owning the place at that moment we were there. And the feeling that there will be tomorrow to look forward to, like scheduling a viewing of the telescope/through the telescope at the Observatory and rescuing cats from the storm drain and seeing them through adulthood.
But all that has come to an end. It is all a memory.
There was still a lump in my throat the second time I cycled around there. But at least I didn’t shed a tear like the first time I visited the place after so many months.
Maybe I’m getting better? I fervently hope so. I had a crappy weekend, feeling down and textversations with friends exacerbated the heaviness because these led to opening the wounds that I try to bury but they were just festering in the dark, not really healing.
But I am surviving. He did not break me.
You did not break me I’m still fighting for peace I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart But your blade it might be too sharp I’m like a rubber band until you pull too hard I may snap and I move fast But you won’t see me fall apart Cos I’ve got an elastic heart
My daughter finally learned how to bike. She biked until evening here, against the beautiful sunset. Thank God for my children whom I love dearly and who still love me. Photo by CallMeCreation.com #nofilter
Because what my friend sent me yesterday opened up fresh wounds, I spent a huge chunk of my day Googling, “What if your partner rejects your children from previous relationship?”
Oh boy, a lot of, let’s say, eye opening responses to that Quora question. The gist: It’s the children who always lose. Walk away if your partner does not accept that you are a package deal.
This is the reason why he said he is dumping me. He could not accept that we are a package deal and he explicitly said so in my face.
It took me two months before I tried dissecting this. There are still several missing pieces that I need to solve like me being a sugar mommy, and being lied to (why he went back to the US twice leaving me hanging, and when I caught his phone had accessed the inside of his ex-gf’s Facebook account–yes he was logged in on her account and I could not be mistaken because I wrote it down on my journal that day. He fibbed and because I was blind, I accepted his feeble excuse that I could no longer remember but I remember it was bullshit).
But I digress.
I needed to understand and nobody could explain to me the psychology behind such rejection. Desperate for answers so I can finally blot him out, I went to Google as my last resort.
I came across this response:
I don’t have kids.. So I’m going to assume that as a good father/man you would put your child/s before me at any given moment. GREAT fathers would agree. Being that I don’t have kids, I just can’t get with that. I admire you for being such a great dad but I do not like that I come 2nd, 3rd, or 4th. Only because in my world, you’d be #1 as the King you should be, so why should I have to settle? I want my kid/s to be your kid/s. From 1st to last child. I want a marriage. I want a family. I want unity!
How do I get closure from this rejection of children thing? This response gave me the answer. It’s too long to post here but this basically says he has to love them as his own and I guess I am not enough for him to love me wholly, package and all.
So we go back to what my friend sent me yesterday, that Instagram post about letting them leave if they want to go. Yes, there’s no point of him staying and being in my life when he cannot even love me and has in fact rejected me. He doesn’t even know what he wants. I was just an interim thing, a panakip-butas (void filler).
Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s looking for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours.
Clementine Kruczynski, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
One of my closest friends in the industry just sent this link this morning and asked how was my sleep. I responded that it’s better than the previous week, which was horrible. He has been keeping tabs on my sleep and he was the one sending me messages everyday since Day 1 to ask what will I do that day. It’s his way of making sure I get my ass off the bed and not spend the rest of my days sulking.
Anyway, I responded to this link by saying that “Yes. But it’s the hurting that is hard.”
Then I continued, “As I told him during our last face to face talk, it’s useless to keep fighting when you already gave up.” That’s why I didn’t try to change his mind. I was fighting for the last six months of that relationship while he didn’t. That is that.
I remember him telling me that where he was when we were together is not something he wanted for himself. He cannot see his future with me. It’s not somewhere he wanted to be. That hurt a lot because I’ve given him everything I could give but it wasn’t enough. I was never enough.
No appreciation. No thank you. Only sorry.
How can I even love myself when the person I gave my world to cannot even appreciate it and treated me like dirt ?
Another day without riding the bike today. I wasn’t in the mood yesterday because I had a home massage via Zennya (their therapists are in PPEs so more or less I feel safer). As a reward for a really crappy long weekend due to lack of sleep. Probably it was the tea I’ve been consuming lately that’s been keeping me up until the wee hours.
Today I was too engrossed writing a scoop and then editing in between. Being a workaholic has advantages, especially in times like this. (What is this this, you ask. The this I am pertaining to is my journey to self-healing and forgiveness of myself)
I’ve always been busy, never been bored. My hands always needed something to do, like sewing, writing, paper crafting, reading, reading, reading, and more reading. Even when I was on hospital duty (either my dad or mom required long hospital stays), I always had a cross stitch project with me, tons of books, and notebooks to write on (this was in the late 1990s and early 2000s, before mobile Internet was democratized). Unfortunately, my cross stitch projects remind me that I stayed as a caregiver for a long time that’s why I was able to finish them in one go.
I can’t remember when was this but I think this was when I was in college when my mom, older sister, and I took turns in taking care of my father when stayed in the hospital for three months because he had a diabetic foot wet gangrene that almost cost his leg to be amputated. It required him to stay for that long because he needed to grow back his flesh then they grafted skin from his butt onto his leg to close the open wound. The cross stitch project I was able to finish that time is now hanging over the shelf containing my Totoro collection at the landing of our stairs.
This is for a face mask project I’m doing for a friend.Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I’ve been sewing face masks since February last year. At first it was due to necessity because there was a huge shortage of face masks because 1) Taal Volcano erupted, scattering ash all around; and 2) COVID. My first attempts were crude because I was just experimenting and I did everything by trial and error. I made the first batch of those for my girls and for him because they were my priority. My regret is that I wasn’t able to hem the seams properly so his masks are still fraying on the inside. I didn’t have pinking shears at that time and I still don’t have now (which reminds me to order from Lazada tonight). I was able to refine my masks only later and I wasn’t able to replace his masks before he dumped me. I only managed to make one improved mask, which I stuffed into his weekend bag the last time he was here at home.
The reason why I continued to sew masks and give away to friends is that it helps ease my anxiety. Imagine the huge burden I had at the height of the lockdown, I was trying to keep six people alive by my lonesome. I had nobody to share that responsibility. Yup, by my lonesome. Upon reflection–which is the only thing that I do whenever I sew because you know, the mind wanders when you sew–yes I carried the weight of the world at that time. I was the head of the household. It took so much gumption and nerves of steel not to freak out at that time. I had to have it together. People were getting depressed left and right; some even died by suicide because it was simply too much. But I could not afford to succumb to depression because I have had five people depending on me.
I am still sewing masks even though I shouldn’t because it encourages my mind to wander while I sew. So what I do is I watch Youtube videos like this below so my mind will not wander.
Because the whole point of making myself busy is to keep me from thinking about him and if I could, I would just want to erase him out of existence.
Now, you may think I’m an 80-year-old granny in a 41-year old body because I’m just sewing myself out of existence. To get myself out of my head, I ride my bike whenever I could. One of my girls asked for a bike and gave me her savings from Christmas presents she received so she can have her own bike. I bought my reporter-friend’s folding bike, which he was contemplating on selling to his TV crew (who in turn refurbish bikes to resell) because he is now very busy with a toddler son and an infant daughter and has no time to ride.
My 20″ wheel folding bike and my daughter’s 16″ wheel folding bike. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
We rode last Sunday together in UP. I had to have training wheels attached to hers because I wasn’t able to teach her properly how to ride a bike. By the looks of it, it will take us a while before I could have the trainers removed.
Hopefully by next month we can have our first dive in six months. I need to book a resort, buy new flippers for the three of us, and have my COVID test. (Ugh! The endless poking on my nostrils!)
So yeah, I’ve been a kickass journo and editor today and will be tomorrow, and the next day, and the following day.
Because I am no one else’s sugar mommy anymore.
(*Oohh yes, the bitterness and anger are dripping from that sentence above. It won’t go away anytime soon*)
