The beginning of the end

A year ago.

My new shrink says I should process this trauma properly and she’s going to help me with that.

Yes, she called it trauma.

And I’ve been running away from the trauma by rushing through the process of recovery. She says I need to confront this trauma because it will be a cycle that will keep on bogging me down all the time. It’s the reason I couldn’t write and just stare at the ceiling when I get triggered. It’s like one step forward, two steps back. Just like when I discovered about him and that girl. I was back to zero.

She said alcohol is not the answer and medicating myself with alcohol to numb myself and make me fall asleep is dangerous because 1) it’s a depressant and 2) I have a history of alcoholism in the family.

Since August, when I hit rock-bottom, I’ve been under her care and gave me the right antidepressant and anti-anxiety meds. It has helped me so much because I’ve been in denial that I have trauma. Those months that I wasn’t sleeping… That I wake up every 30 mins. Then every hour. It was only when I had Covid that I felt I had really been sleeping, like I was making up for the months I hadn’t had any peaceful sleep.

I also get triggered by every little thing connected to him or that girl whom I started to hate. I have unfollowed her in all social media platforms even though we’re friends. You see, it’s just like a soldier with PTSD going nuts when he hears a loud bang, thinking it’s gunfire.

It doesn’t help that I carry the weight of the world as a single mom, during a global pandemic, and I’ve been carrying my entire team and all the stresses that came with it because of bad leadership. So I’ve been sweeping this trauma under the rug so I can juggle the stress at work and as a single parent. But all these three stressors compete all the time, hence, my bad stress management.

I just realized now that I am rushing my Covid recovery. Twin I and I biked from our apartment to UP this evening but we were just barely inside the campus when I got very dizzy and my vision became wavy. I thought I was going to collapse. I was hyperventilating. We stopped for a moment to steady myself and catch my breath and then we slowly made our way back home. I’m still weak.

Resting. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I am not yet fine. I’m still sick. I still have long Covid symptoms. Right after a hot shower, I went straight to bed. Twin A checked on me and found me hot to touch like I have a fever. I still have a headache as I type this on my phone.

Why am I rushing my recovery? Because I’ve regained the weight I lost when I was really sick with Covid. I feel ugly that I am back to being fat. And upon deeper analysis, it’s because I’ve always thought that my being fat has contributed to the many reasons why he used and left me. He exploited my insecurity. And that’s the reason why he went after a journalist who was stick-thin and very young.

I need to be kinder to myself. It seems like I haven’t accepted the fact that I’ve been used; that every cell in my body is rejecting that thought but it is what it is. I have to accept that and I shouldn’t blame myself for what happened. There’s some kind of disconnect between what I’ve been trying to tell myself and what I am really feeling deep down. I have to work on that.

I need to work on my PTSD, if indeed this is PTSD.

(My old shrink–literally old–just diagnosed that I’m co-dependent that’s why I got stuck in an abusive marriage with someone with a narcissistic personality disorder but she refused to work on my annulment case. Now the Supreme Court ruled that psychological incapacity in annulment cases need not be medically certified by a psychiatrist and that term is just limited to the legal definition. So I dropped that old psych, good riddance. This new psych is for my therapy because I want to heal. And heal soon.)

According to the American Psychiatric Association, the symptoms of PTSD fall into four categories. Specific symptoms can vary in severity.

  1. Intrusion: Intrusive thoughts such as repeated, involuntary memories; distressing dreams; or flashbacks of the traumatic event. Flashbacks may be so vivid that people feel they are re-living the traumatic experience or seeing it before their eyes.
  2. Avoidance: Avoiding reminders of the traumatic event may include avoiding people, places, activities, objects and situations that may trigger distressing memories. People may try to avoid remembering or thinking about the traumatic event. They may resist talking about what happened or how they feel about it.
  3. Alterations in cognition and mood: Inability to remember important aspects of the traumatic event, negative thoughts and feelings leading to ongoing and distorted beliefs about oneself or others (e.g., “I am bad,” “No one can be trusted”); distorted thoughts about the cause or consequences of the event leading to wrongly blaming self or other; ongoing fear, horror, anger, guilt or shame; much less interest in activities previously enjoyed; feeling detached or estranged from others; or being unable to exprience positive emotions (a void of happiness or satisfation).
  4. Alterations in arousal and reactivity: Arousal and reactive symptoms may include being irritable and having angry outbursts; behaving recklessly or in a self-destructive way; being overly watchful of one’s surroundings in a suspecting way; being easily startled; or having problems concentrating or sleeping.

Self-preservation

Friends and family had been sending messages, greeting me and asking me what my plans for today were. I said I just want to lay down in bed, savor my airconditioned room while the girls are downstairs doing their crafts. Which I did.

However, I had to attend first to my new babies, my plants, and had to water/spritz on water, and make sure there were no caterpillars. Then attend to the cat litter. Other than those chores, I did zero. Ever since our other househelp left, the dishwashing duties, dusting and vacuuming are now assigned to the girls. I really have no reason to get up from my bed because they can take care of themselves now. My ideal day.

Tonkatsu ramen. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

If it weren’t for the kids, I wouldn’t bother with the food. But of course I had to feed them so I ordered ramen from Botejyu via Grab. Yesterday I already ordered 3 tubs of ice cream for the girls and my househelp and a blueberry cheesecake from Conti’s and have them delivered at home while I was having my car checked. Twin I has been singing praises about the cake sent to me last week by a friend so she pestered me about ordering cheesecakes.

So it seems like her prayers had been answered again after I received two cheesecakes today from a good friend from the industry and another from a PR person.

I honestly haven’t had any of the cakes yet. I’m controlling myself. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I have the girls off my hair today since they were busy eating and painting or doing some crafts. Which was lovely as I get to have peace and quiet.

For dinner, we just had leftovers from yesterday and ham & egg sandwiches. And oh, I was able to revitalize leftover rice from the fridge into fluffy white rice using claypot.

Claypot rice, Ottogi yellow curry with mostly potato, bell pepper and carrots and few meat. My bowl is above the claypot. I limit my rice intake.

Tomorrow I should keep myself wide awake because I will drive the girls to my mom to spend their semestral break there for a week. Then I drive back here tomorrow evening because I have back-to-back calls on Monday.


I’m a year older.

What have I learned from the past 12 months? Last year I was miserable and I took an antidepressant so I can balance all the things I had been juggling without having to dwell on the fact that I felt rotten and spent and that pill kept me from breaking down. I knew I was being treated shabbily but I pushed on, thinking that things might get better if I did more.

But no, you cannot win the love you already lost. Or never had.

Last year on this same day I was so lost and alone. I was the loneliest with J. I was confused why I felt that way. I couldn’t fathom why I was wretchedly unhappy. I felt like I was sinking into an abyss. Like it was my fault that it had come to that.

But I was always gaslighted.

I felt helpless.

I was always dragged around because it was always about him, him, him. What about me? I needed comfort and support too but I didn’t get it because it felt wrong if I asked for kindness and love. I felt neglected and tired. But isn’t it enough that he was there with me?

But no. He wasn’t there with me for quite some time. He was already so far away.

It was unfair. He was unfair. He should have left in June, the time when I felt I lost him. He shouldn’t have used me like that.

I’m in a better place on my birthday this year. I have showered myself with love today by being kind to myself. That for once I am not mommy or a woman who must attend to every whim and caprices of her partner. Friends have sent their support and love to me today. I didn’t have to ask for it.

It hurts just thinking about it now. How could have I been unkind to myself for letting me think that I do not have to feel special and loved? That I should just accept what I had then?

I think my return to my hometown to raise my children is my way of sheltering myself from being hurt again like that. You don’t know how much J killed me everyday for several months, especially after that thing with that kid in my circle. What’s worse is everyone knows that by now. And my friends explained to me, in my drunken stupor, that J was chasing her so he can tap into her network, which she doesn’t have. As if she can summon conglomerate owners and C-level people to talk to him like I was able to do for him. As my friends said, why would he go for someone like her when clearly she didn’t have anything on you except youth? “Sex maybe?” I answered in my alcohol-fueled raspy voice. Being infront of the camera doesn’t mean you are the best there. It just so happened a lot of them in that network left (the network is not doing that great) and they had to promote people from within. After one year or less as a researcher, she became an on-cam reporter because she was there. Of course J doesn’t know that; he just probably thought that being on cam she would have more clout, my friends said.

It’s only during my Covid isolation that I firmed up my decision that I should make some drastic changes so I can never let anybody kill me like that again. Now I am beginning to realize that I am retreating from the world by returning to my hometown and will be embracing spinsterhood. My hometown is a small world and there is less chance for me to get involved with someone else because I know everyone there.

Once I uproot ourselves here, that signals that I have finally closed the door. I will start building a fort around me on top of that duplex that I just have drawn plans for. Yes I would still have a queen-sized bed but that is all to myself. Yes, I will be traveling more frequently by next year because of my job and meet a lot of people but I will never ever let anyone near me again like I had let J. It will all be distancia, amigo.

That is how I will love myself–self preservation. At 42 years old, I don’t think I can waste more years and energy again for somebody who never thought I was precious and never put me on a pedestal like the way I did with him.

I cannot afford to be that unhappy anymore. Life is too short.

The little things

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.

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.

It’s the little things.

Letting go

My cats are fond of laying on things I am working on, like my daily diary because I’m scheduling my life in the next 3 months. Photo by CalleMeCreation.

I sent J yesterday the last batch of his stuff he left behind. I saw on Grab it was delivered but there was no word from him, no thanks, no acknowledgment. Nothing.

I was miffed. Like what did I do wrong to this person to earn this kind of treatment??? I was just being nice!

But then a friend reminded me, this is not about me. “It’s not you. Nothing is wrong with you,” K said.

Then I reminded myself, yeah, he has a problem. He could not be nice to me, until the end. He’s not really a nice person 😔

I just had to vent out to my friend and then move on. I slept on it. I’m ok now. As I told K, I am loved by my family and friends and a lot of people appreciate me. They sent their help and love to me when I was really sick with Covid. Then that means nothing is wrong with me as a person.

My girls kept on making me cards, sending their love. Reminding me of the most important thing in this world: my children.

Choose people who choose you.

That’s the lesson I learned from this experience with J. I should love myself as much as I loved him. If I had more self-confidence and self-love, and didn’t think that I had to do more and become a doormat to earn his love, I wouldn’t have gone through the ugly last six months of our relationship that crushed my self-esteem.

I think I have finally let him go, in the truest sense. Like whatever he does that is not connected to me will no longer affect me. He no longer has the power to hurt me. I have taken that power back.

Happiness is a choice. I choose to be happy. I will love myself more and enjoy my life as I ought to.

My worst enemy

It’s my mind. I’m on my 9th day confined here in this box. The previous days I have more hours sleeping than awake. However, I have more waking hours now but I can’t spend too much time scrolling through my phone or staying at my computer because it gives me headaches.

So there are moments I just spend staring at the ceiling and walls. And remember.

A few days ago I discovered some stuff that J left behind that I should send back to him. I could just burn them but I have no means to do that here unless I want to burn the whole apartment compound down. I needed to purge him from my life. For my peace. I needed to do this exercise, this act of purging. It’s like this is with finality: I’m done grieving over you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I don’t want to remember you, just like when you erased me and pretended I didn’t exist.

I don’t want to die with this bitterness hanging over me. How he treated me like I was just a servant, a sugar mommy, and how I just accepted a small nugget of affection, which I thought was love. In his eyes, if something was wrong it was always my fault. Everything was my fault. I get blamed for so many things even when I tried my very best.

Having lived through Covid gives me a new perspective. Choose people who choose you. I now realize many people love me. They kept sending me food and medicines. They’ve been sending me help. One friend even offered to look after my kids if I’m taken away by the LGU.

I don’t have to beg. I don’t have to fight so hard for it. Love that is not freely given is not worth fighting for. This person, J, is not even worth fighting for. That person is not worth remembering.

For months I’ve grieved for somebody who didn’t even grieve for me. Who never regretted hurting me. I nearly went out of my mind because of somebody who was not even nice to me.

I asked this here one time: if I no longer exist in memory, do I no longer exist? Now I flip it: Yes, if he doesn’t exist in my memory, then he no longer exists. He does not deserve to occupy precious space in my head and heart and I must make more space for more beautiful memories with people who genuinely love me and who would fight for me until the end.

Rubbish

The earliest schedule available for home service Covid testing is next week. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Might as well treat my condition as Covid. I haven’t gone out of my room since Tuesday night except for bathroom use and everytime I use it I disinfect it. I still have a fever and headaches. And cough.

It has been 3 days of temperatures like this. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I just do nothing but sleep. Which is fine so that means my mind would not wander off to parts I would never want to revisit again—which caused my immune system to weaken some weeks ago in the first place.

That was pure hell. What I’m feeling right now is nothing compared to what I’ve been through those horrible weeks. So I still should be thankful that I’m still in a good disposition now albeit I have trouble breathing through my clogged nose.

I’ll survive. I’m fully vaccinated. I don’t believe I would need oxygen but I have nasal cannula and pulse oximeter. I need to order an O2 regulator online, just in case.

I’m getting sleepy. Tralalala.