Tag Archives: adulting

This will be a long and difficult soliloquy

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So meta, right? Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Let me start off by saying I needed a drink to write this down because this entails eviscerating myself.

I had a long chat over Messenger this afternoon with my friend (friendship dating back when we were 9-10 years old), about family (I know her entire family and their quirks and the generational issues) and how far we have come from where we were 2 years ago. It would be her supposed wedding anniversary tomorrow while it would be my 2nd year as a dumpee.

She told me about how her ex-husband just trashed all the things she has done for him, how she supported him when he had nothing, how she lifted him up because she loved him. However, he said he is happier without her. His insecurities led him to cheating and choosing women who would make him look good because he is superior over them vs my friend who is an overachiever.

I told her, unfortunately, the value you put in all of the things you gave him is not the same value for him–if he valued it at all. That’s how the world works, especially with narcissists, and with her ex-husband, he thought that what she did for him was an obligation and/or he was entitled to it, therefore, has zero value at all.

I told my friend, it’s just like when we adopted this niece (from a cousin) and she lived with us throughout her college life. We treated her like a sister, like a daughter. Then now she talks shit about us, especially on social media. We don’t know what we did to her to earn her hatred but at least she could have just shut up, in deference to how we treated her, right? My older sister said, apparently the value we gave to how we offered her a home and how we made an effort to make her an immediate family to us was zero for her. There are just people who are like that. I’m still hurting over that but what can I do, right?

Just the same with her ex-husband and just the same with my ex.

I remember right after J threw me off the balcony exactly two years ago from tomorrow, I had an interview with a company owner in Thailand he introduced to me. I think we set the interview in early January. That said, my interviewee enjoyed our conversation so much that we had two interview sessions. I took the opportunity to promote J as a good advisor that he should hire. He got so much boost from me—me being stupid, thinking that it was my last act of love towards somebody who I eventually discovered was screwing me over for a very long time, even from the beginning.

What a fool I was.

I thought I had forgiven him. Apparently no.

Because I dreamed about him this morning, but this time, in my dream I was in a quandary about how to kick him out of my house. We just got off the car and he was going ahead of me in some conference we were both supposed to attend. I whispered to a friend that I “still couldn’t do it, you know kicking him out,” but I know I had too because he was already treating me badly and was sucking out my light. The dream ended there.

So my dream was like an allegory of my anger that I still harbor and couldn’t still let go of. I haven’t forgiven him. I don’t want to label this as hate because I don’t want him to have that kind of power over me…because the opposite of love is not hate but indifference. Oh I wish to God that I’m already indifferent but I recognize that it is a long process and it’s not easy.

If I were a horrible, vindictive human being, I could have destroyed him because we move in a world where a good reputation is the most important thing, especially if you’re after contracts and high quality networks. This is very much true if you don’t have much of a track record compared to others in the same space. But I just said to myself, I won’t stoop to that level and just let the universe do its thing. Karma comes back biting your ass, I believe.

Besides, he has already destroyed himself within my network by his own doing, dallying with that ex-reporter girl. He underestimated my network, how far my arms can reach, what my ears can hear. He can no longer use my network even if I chose to be quiet because that’s the most dignified thing to do. I just let the universe do its thing.

I was used and I realize now that was from the very beginning. I took it hook, line, and sinker. I believed what I wanted to believe and ignored the red flags. He used baits like “Will you give me a home?” schtick so that I would give him everything that I had, believing he really wanted to be with me. I accepted him for what he was and when he was at his lowest, I tried to give him the world, with all that I had. I supported him with everything—moral, financial, professional…

I recognize and experience that relationships sour and breakups happen. But what I found unacceptable to me were the deceit and the lies. The way he treated me especially in the end. And what makes this healing difficult is that I am trying to live my life quietly but things still come unraveling to me even until February-March this year, about 14-15 months after the breakup. Like, what the fuck?! What did I do to deserve this?! He just kept throwing all these curve balls on purpose. Typical narc.

All I did was to love unconditionally, but loved the wrong person. Very wrong person. Now I don’t have anything left to give to anybody and I don’t think I have the energy and love left. I realized that love is not infinite.

So healing is not linear. You go take one step forward, two steps back many times in the course of this wretched stage. At the same time you are forced to “adult”. If I were still a theater actress now, I know I would be able to bring more depth and gravity to the characters I will play because I finally know now how it is to die and come back from the dead. Well, for me that’s how the past two years felt like. I died and come back from the dead several times.

Through this past two years, I learned how invaluable professional therapy is. Not just the woo woo group therapy (those New Agey things). You know, grief messes you up and chemically, your body changes and it short-circuits you. As my doctor said, it’s trauma and left unaddressed, the short-circuiting continues. Long Covid didn’t help either. Depression and anxiety are not trivial. It’s not a sign of being weak and/or lack of faith in God. Some people are predisposed to it due to heredity, environment, and/or it’s just how they tick. I realized that I’m an empath and I absorb the slings and arrows of everything and everyone around me–that’s why I have the double whammy. Artists (even not good artists like me) are prone to such things—the twin evil named depression and anxiety. That’s where we get our mojo. That’s why I could draw better when I was down and out. I could write the most heartfelt piece when I hurt. We draw our power from our gut and as a consequence we expose our innards only to get bruised more.

J may not understand what I went through and would think that I had just been melodramatic if he only knew (so that’s why it was really better for me to be scarce and disappear), but that again boils down to how differently we valued the relationship and one another. To him, I was just a tool and a means for him to reach his goals, one step at a time; for me, he was my world—at that time. So again, he would never understand.

So in summary, the past two years had been a long difficult process. It was walking through fire barefoot. It was like having an odontectomy but local anesthesia does not work (and yes, this literally happens to me). It was like battling with a Balrog in the depths of Moria, dying and coming back as a white Maiar, bleached by pain and death.

But bouncing back as a more powerful wizard.

I have found my inner strength and a new-found love for myself. I had found my voice again.

I may not be shiny and effervescent like those big-boobed women who go bar-hopping and post their night life on social media to prove that they have attractive, “meaningful” lives. I am also not a high-powered woman executive that command thousands of people with a snap of her fingers.

I am just me.

I can be charming if I wanted to be. I am intelligent and there are no dull conversations with me, if I wanted to. But most importantly, I can offer a warm home with lots of love and care, where someone can belong and grow roots. Because anywhere with me is home—that’s the best I can give to anyone.

And J just doesn’t appreciate that. He is the wrong person.

Soon, I would just wake up and say, “Who was he again?” That’s the best indication of indifference I hope to achieve.

Keeping it real

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I just discovered Haley Kalil this week and she’s funny.

I always get invited to press conferences with two tables: One for media and one for influencers and vloggers/bloggers. This is very true for presscons of consumer-facing companies like telcos and real estate. I often wondered about how do these people even keep up with making content everyday, setting up cameras and shoot themselves walking back and forth to give a false sense of, yeah, this is how I live my everyday life.

Apparently, it is a full-time job and they even have managers. I think if you are a “content creator” (a new job description I learned this year) and have your own wares to peddle like Nicolas Fairford, who has launched his own brand of tea wares, you have another revenue stream. However, for content creators who rely most of the time for sponsorships, you don’t have a choice but to lie to your viewers that you do indeed use their products—the more sponsorships, the more revenues you have. Even if their products suck. And if you are a content creator who relies mostly on ad revenues—you’re better off with your day job because Google sucks the life out of you as I read that unless you are the top 1% of xxx (can’t remember if it’s your country/market/or Youtube), you will not really make money that could pay your bills.

By the way, Haley is gorgeous. Like Cindy Crawford x Angelina Jolie gorgeous.

Grief is love holding on

This is the thing I told my friend who is grieving for her father, who died while in ICU in the US. She couldn’t fly there on short notice and it’s little use since they will be bringing his body back anyway since her parents are really based here.

I told her I have no comforting things to say because there’s nothing else in this world that can make her feel better, based on my experience. So just let grief overwhelm you, I said. Don’t pressure yourself to be ok because it’s not ok. Don’t think about how long it will take you to grieve. Don’t let other people dictate how long you will grieve, I told her.

It’s a pain that will never go away. We just learn to live with it. Nobody will understand your pain because your pain is yours alone.

B sent me a video of her last conversation with her dad while in the ICU (which was not permitted but was made possible by her sibling who slipped the phone inside the room–probably the sibling was a nurse). I told her to save it on the cloud because she will be watching it everyday for a long time. I said I saved my father’s text messages to me (hey, early 2000s!) on my phone and held on to them for years until my phone got snatched from my bag. I even lost his phone number. One time I was so overtaken with grief I sent that number a text message. It was a comfort to me, pretending that I could still message him.

“Until now, 17 years have passed, there’s still a dull pain somewhere in my chest when I remember that. I feel like crying now. It’s something that never goes away,” I told B.

“In a way, that’s comforting to know. I don’t want to forget him,” B replied.

“Grief is love holding on. You will hold on to everything,” I said.

I told B: I have a friend who messaged me out of the blue one night and asked if he was already going insane or something was really wrong with him because it was already a year since his dad died but he was still crying and grief-stricken. He quit work because he really took it hard.

I told him that no, he’s fine. He’s not yet insane. There’s no timetable for grief. I told him that I was also jobless for a year when my dad died. I decided to be a full-time graduate student so I can just coast along and grieve. I only felt the urge to go find work when I found myself scrounging for money to buy myself airtime/SMS load for my phone. “Don’t mind other people; your grief is yours alone. We hold on because that’s what we only have left now. And it’s ok.”

Then B said: This helped a lot. Salamat.

I have other thoughts about how I lived with grief after a loved one has died and grief over losing myself over someone who didn’t deserve me at all. There are many types of grief: there are those that it’s ok if we keep it for the rest of our lives (death) and there are those that we need to get out of (love and betrayal) because, I don’t know…It doesn’t feel right anymore. There may be others but on top of my head are these two that I know.

I will just write about it some other time because it would be emotionally draining but at the same time cathartic. But I’m not for it right now.

I just want to relax and watch houses that I will never have.

Day 3 of vacation leave

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I was just supposed to do my grocery shopping today but I ended up spending 4 hrs with a friend who asked for counsel about her career.

Early dinner of cold soba before walking in UP. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I was the one who helped her transition from media to another industry (via my connections and gave her good backing). I was also instrumental in her pursuit of a master’s degree from Australia via a scholarship (also gave her topics for her dissertation because it was within my area of expertise). Due medical issues, she must now leave the agency she has worked for but she still has to complete her contract service. Complicated, but long story short, I was able to help her clear her head and suggested to her the appropriate steps to take so the ends are tied neatly.

Basically, stress almost killed her. She suffered from high levels of anxiety (that job is really stressful) that led to stroke. She had to go through physical therapy, speech therapy, etc. so she can regain her old self. And as a former broadcast journalist, losing your ability to speak is devastating.

It was the same kind of stress and anxiety attacks that my other friend, M, is experiencing. His BP is shooting through the roof, too alarming that he had to be brought to the ER. It is happening regularly that he needed to take a 4-month medical leave.

I told this friend, T, that we as journalists have this bad habit of ignoring our bodies when they’re breaking down because we are used to just pushing forward—because that’s what we are supposed to do. Now she realizes that mental health is not trivial.

We had discussed so many things while driving, while walking around UP campus—16k steps in all—and it feels good to untangle cobwebs while exercising.

She was so thankful I took time to see her. I said, if there’s one thing that this Covid pandemic taught me, it is that I should make time for people who are important to me. I told her that there’s a reason why I had to go through so many bullshit and earn cuts and bruises—maybe because my role in this universe is to counsel friends. To share my experiences like struggles with mental health caused by bad breakups, trauma, work, etc. Experience in managing people and in having bad bosses and ok mentors. And overall experience in the industry. As a true empath, I absorb all these and then I make sure my friends and loved ones don’t fall into the same ditch.

I said whether it’s work or relationships, we must take care of ourselves. Because T and I are both empaths, we tend to lose ourselves in the service of others. In relationships, we roll the red carpet and over-extend ourselves, while in the process, we slowly but painfully kill ourselves.

We need to set our boundaries so we don’t melt and disappear like candles because we tend to give and give even though we don’t get any in return.

A glass of bubbly tonight to end this day. Video by CallMeCreation.com

Boundaries are physical manifestations of self-love. We empaths need to preserve ourselves so we do not just melt, evaporate, and disappear because we gave too much.

Bracing for super typhoon

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Cooked this from scratch before we lose power tonight. Then we will resort to time-saving, ready to cook marinated stuff I bought from Monterey today when shit hits the fan.

Meatballs in gravy. Secret ingredient: lots of nutmeg. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Apprently, I haven’t been reading the weather maps well. Typhoon Karding hasn’t made landfall yet.

PAGASA and JWC had upgraded Typhoon Karding into a super typhoon after it crossed the Philippine Sea—notorious for its warm waters—that fueled its strength before landfall. It is yet to cross Metro Manila now at 2 pm but the periphery of the typhoon is already felt with the deceptively calm rain we are experiencing now.

If Signal #4 is already raised here, then Karding is about as strong as Typhoon Glenda or Milenyo, two typhoons that knocked out power in Metro Manila for at least a week. Milenyo was in 2006 when I experienced walking from the Department of Finance to my newspaper’s office because there were no public utility vehicles. There was no power anywhere and as a reporter, I still needed to file my stories whatever the circumstances. The bigger the catastrophe, the more we must work and be on the ground.

Then the unlearned still brand us as paid hacks and useless 😑

Glenda was in 2014, when the girls were still babies. That was challenging. Right after Glenda passed, Metro Manila was freaking hot and humid—a guarantee that would send babies crying at night because it was so uncomfortable. We had to go to Araneta Center to charge our gadgets, in my case my laptop, and have some air-conditioning. Power was out for more than a week and I still had to file stories.

Twin I helping me shop for supplies. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Twin I and I went out for our supplies run before Typhoon Karding hits us. Right now it is taking its time ravaging Quezon Province. 😔

Back to making curtains. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I’ve also brought out my hobbies that won’t require power, like sewing curtains and sketching/painting.

I’m writing about these things so when I’m already gone, my girls will know what to do upon reading blog entries such as this.

Also posting this link to an IG reel that hit me hard. This is for my girls as well. If they feel like they are being treated like a human appliance, they should pack up and leave. They shouldn’t sink to my level; I who groveled at the feet of men who treated me badly.

So my children, if you’re reading this now that I’ve gone to the great beyond, then remember this: be always prepared before a calamity. It doesn’t hurt to be extra vigilant. If the typhoon passes without destroying Metro Manila, it’s good. Do not treat your prep work as wasted effort.

Second point: do not stay in a relationship because you are expected to. Once your partner treats you like a maid or human appliance, LEAVE! You don’t deserve to be treated like that.

That’s why I think I will end up as a cat lady. It’s only my cats who love me like this. Sushi slept on my pillows all day. We slept together this afternoon and this evening she’s at the foot of my bed, still sleeping. She doesn’t let me out of her sight. ❤️

Back in the urban jungle

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Ah EDSA, how I hate thee. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I left my hometown at 9:30 am today. It took me only 1 hour and 10 mins (~61 km) to reach Grand Hyatt in BGC. The funny thing here is it took me 30 mins (16km) from BGC to reach my apartment 🤨 That’s how much of a time waster traveling around Metro Manila is.

Before I left this morning, I debated whether I should walk around the university campus or just hit the treadmill. Treadmill won because I brought an extra sport shirt by mistake since I thought it was my exercise pants. Can’t walk comfortably in jeans since I would be sweating profusely. So treadmill it is.

Before leaving, I checked the construction site and talked to my contractor since I decided to change the plan and I want to move the TV wall near my bedroom door because it makes more sense. The dining table (I will bring my existing one and eventually buy a round tulip table which looks and feels better in a small space) will be placed in the middle of it all, near the original TV wall. So my dining area will have my art gallery wall as backdrop.

More cement and sand.
Future bedroom. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This 10 sqm room will be my future room and everything here will be demolished, except for the wooden floor. The windows will be changed and this will become a fire exit as well so it has to be bigger and I will have a balcony outside as that will serve as the fire exit platform. I will have a million power outlets.

I told him that the interior paint will just be semi-glossy white since I will be hanging a lot of art and the walls’ clinical look will be broken by my printed curtains. Since I know how to sew curtains. I can change the look of my interiors by sewing lots of curtains.

Maybe the next time I visit this, probably next weekend (not this coming weekend) the bathroom walls and the kitchen counters will be up.

I’m scared and yet excited.

Cronyism Part 2

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This is the reward for cozying up with despots like Duterte and criminal families like the Marcoses. Manuel Villar acquired the franchise of ABS-CBN (after the latter was stripped off it by the demon Duterte) in a midnight deal with the National Telecommunications Commission (NTC) that surprised us all.

The bastards.

Meanwhile, ABS-CBN and PLDT had to call off the x-deal between them (PLDT’s acquisition of a stake in SkyCable and in return ABS-CBN gets to acquire TV5) because of political pressure from the House of Representatives.

This is to make sure there would be no opposition media.

I never thought I would live to see such things happening again.

I was set to attend Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility (CMFR)’s meeting with journalists about “what next?” and how we can maneuver in these dangerous times. However, I was too busy that I forgot about it 😶 Geez.

On the brighter side of life, I was able to cook a dish in my Instant Pot this morning. Chicken curry (using an Ottogi curry mix) for 5 mins only in the Instant Pot. Five minutes. Perfect for very busy homemakers.

Chicken curry on rice. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The potatoes and carrots were soft and easy to eat, as is the chicken. It was lovely to have lunch within minutes of putting all the ingredients.

I’ll just have to check my power consumption since this gadget consumes 1000 watts of power. 🥴🥴🥴

Finally issued a manager’s check to my contractor for the 50% down payment through my mom this morning. Construction materials will be arriving tomorrow and I’m scared and at the same time excited that this is finally happening.

I’m scared because I will be going back home and I’m afraid of shrinking my world again. My hometown is like a nice cocoon that is very comfortable that will also stifle my personal growth.

While I was walking from my apartment to UP yesterday, I felt melancholic that I would soon be leaving the scenes I had been seeing for the last 20 years or so of living here in QC. I felt a tug in my heart when I watched the sunset and the colors that painted the sky. I will be leaving the memories of walking there in the evenings holding hands with someone, as well as the heartaches I had whenever I remembered those times while I was already walking alone. I will be leaving the pain that tore through me when I biked or walked around the campus when I was trying to recover my lost self.

Biking along University Avenue, UP DIliman. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

UP Diliman was home to me, a substitute for my hometown, minus my nosy family. I started graduate school there in 2003 and it has always been my go-to place when I wanted some comfort. It was where I brought my girls when they were still babies until now, to spend the weekend running around the grassy fields because we don’t have enough open spaces here in the city.

I will miss the convenience of having two grocery stores within 100m-200m away from my house and the many restaurants/food kiosks that dot the village. I will miss having Grab delivery just within minutes of me. Lazada and Shopee deliveries are easy because the QC hub is probably just near here.

Suddenly I have an epiphany…

I’m sad because I will be exchanging my freedom for convenience of having family nearby so my girls will grow up in a village, with a male role model (my brother), with cousins, grandma and aunties. They will help keep an eye on them while I’m away. I’m scared that I will be forfeiting a chance to have someone new in my life because my family is nosy.

I’m exchanging my personal growth for what is best for my girls.

Because it’s no longer about me. I want them to have the best childhood and teenage years I could offer them with my meager resources. I want them to have the best education I could afford and manage.

So children, if you’re already reading this when I’m already dead, I hope you realize now that I gave up my life and personal growth for you so you can have the best.

In the open field near UP MassComm. Photo by CallMeCreation.com