Of Struggles with Apathy and Vulnerability

In the spirit of indifference, I am actually quite neutral today, even when last night was a hard one. In the middle of all the preparations for my debut, I thought it was just one of those daily dramas that my mom pushes on me because I resent exercising. Yes, that's right people. We fought over this a gazillion times before, and I just wouldn't do it. Why? I'm content with my body, with who I am, and I don't care what people think of me. On the one hand, I actually get her point of view because she only wants the best for me. She wants people to like me and not judge me, she doesn't want people calling me fat, and she wants me to look good on my debut, so my guests wouldn't have anything to say except marvel at my awesome beauty. Ha!

She's been working so hard these past few weeks, organizing the venue and catering, designing things, and fitting everything in our tight budget. That's actually quite amazing. She's also been telling me that she couldn't concentrate and do her job because she's thinking of my debut, she's already having debts, and on top of all that, she still has flight to book which would be equally or even more costly than my debut. At the back of my mind, there's my mean, rational self telling me that she shouldn't be stressing herself too much with my debut because anything will do for me, and besides, she's the one who wants to work on it, so why does she come and tell me that it's my fault that she's stressed out? And then there's my good, obedient side that is slowly fleeting, which is nagging me, "What the heck are you thinking? Of course she's gonna do all the work 'cause you're doing nothing. She doesn't want to end up like you and throw a stupid party for her daughter. She wants the best for you." And so goes an endless argument between the two.

I actually had a thought that maybe I've been cursed with apathy. My mom usually gets mad a lot, and you wouldn't want to come near her when she's stressed, because she always finds a reason to be angry. She used to say so many negative things to me when I was younger so I taught myself to block out all the negative things I hear from her, and from everybody else, unless it sounds constructive rather than insulting. And what do you know, I was actually good at it. That was how I built my self-esteem. Maybe there's just a problem with communication, she's my parent after all, she can say anything she wants however she wants to. If she's going to ground me, or threaten me, or disown me, it only hurts a little, and then I block it off, and then I tell myself that I don't care, and I really wouldn't care. Recently, her approach has been subtle, and that surprised me a lot. She doesn't get angry all of a sudden, and she's grown to be more gentle. But my approach hasn't changed at all. I discovered that my apathy stayed, even when the rational part of me knows that she is right, I am at fault, and I should definitely say sorry and pay restitution. But the next day, I end up doing nothing.

When she cried last night, which was the purest and weakest cry I've ever seen from her, I couldn't get myself to pity her. There were a lot of things that went on my mind. I thought that she was beautiful as a woman when she did that. I was surprised to see her vulnerability because she's always been an authoritative power figure when I do something wrong. Sure, I've seen her loving side a lot of times as well, but weak and tired weren't usually in the equation. I also thought that it was the most beautiful sign of love, but I don't really want to get soaked up in her love because I'm afraid it would hurt so much when I leave for L.A. and live on my own. I cried after she told me to get out of her room, because at the sum of it all, it wasn't a cry of discipline and tiresomeness, but a cry of pain. I hurt her. And I was also hurt because I love her, but I didn't love her the way I should have.

In my lifetime, I've only made a few people cry, and I was reminded that they all had the same reason to do so. Because they love me, but I didn't love them the way I should. I could even call it an unrequited love. I don't know what to do with myself. I am rid of integrity, excellence, and now love. I don't have all those things, and at times, I couldn't care less. I hate myself for being like this. At this point, there's only one thing I've realized. People who truly love risk themselves of the vulnerablility of being hurt. My mom loves me, and would do anything for me, and I can't exactly say that I can do the same for her. I can only imagine that kind of love until I have my own child someday. God, who is in the most vulnerable position of all, chose to love me, even when He knows I will only desert, offend and hurt Him countless times.

I want to care. I want to do something to make it up to the people I've hurt. I am secure in God's love, but in any other human love, I'm afraid I just have to make restitution to restore our relationship, otherwise it may slowly drift farther apart without me noticing it.

Note to self:

Hi there, Krishna.

This is yourself, speaking to you. A few years from now, I know you will look back and read your whole blog over again. I know you tend to re-read so much when it comes to your writings. I hope you come across these 15 notes someday.

1. Seek God first, and everything else will be given to you. Surrender to Him everything that you have. Choose Him first. Love Him more than you will ever love any person.


2. Always remember that you are perfect and beautiful as you are. God knew what he was doing when He made you. You can be so fat or so thin, but please don't try to impress people. Instead, strive to impress God. His impression matters most.


3. Filter your thoughts and your feelings. Emotions come and go, it's natural. But sometimes, you nurture it. Know when to ignore the negative feelings and get rid or your negative thoughts. You have a big God who loves you, and He doesn't want you to feel or think that way.


4. If you are mad or sad, be more careful that you might not endanger other people's feelings or perspectives by the things you say or do. If you're tired, and you're doing all the work, it's your choice to do so. Don't think that other people deserve to suffer, too (of course, unless they want to help and carry some of your burden).


5. Honor your parents. Give back to them. Obey them, but not if you have to compromise what God wants. Love them, and forgive them no matter how much they have hurt you. You have also hurt them as well.


6. Nothing is impossible for God. If He has put dreams and desires in your heart, I'm quite sure that He did so because He intends to fulfill it in your life. Though you must distinguish which ones come from you and which ones come from Him. He has faithfully done great things in your life, so why are you doubting now? Believe, and ask Him to help your unbelief.


7. Love as if you've never been hurt before. Dance as if no one's watching. Live life to the fullest. Don't be afraid to feel all kinds of emotions out there. Don't conform to the standards of this world. Don't be conventional. Do hard things!


8. Never tell your future kids that they are ugly even if they're fat, they're dark, etc. Never tell them that they're unworthy, even when you're angry. Remember that they are special and priceless in God's eyes. Their image reflects the image of God. Their worth and their beauty encompasses the standards of this world.


9. Be quick to listen and slow to speak. Let your anger fade away before you scold your future children or argue with your future husband. Be sure that you think rationally when you do so. And when you don't have the resolve to do it, be sure to say sorry when you know you're wrong.


10. Exercise to stay healthy, not to lose weight. Wear less and less make-up as the years pass. Encourage and compliment others, they need it.


11. Rest. You need to rest physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. There is a kind of rest that only God can give. Don't forget to come to Him if you ever need that kind of rest.


12. Forgive, forget, and let go. Forgive yourself, forgive others, and treat them as if nothing happened before. Let go of the issues you had with them. Don't bring it back even in arguments.


13. Be a biblical woman. Know what God designed you to be. Don't be too dominant, aggressive, or assumptive. Learn to be gentle and supportive.


14. Always give back the glory to God. He has given you everything you have. Your intellect, your talent, your calling. Whether it's performing for other people, tithing, or serving God, give Him what He deserves.


15. Hide God's word in your heart always. It is your sword and your shield. You can't fight the battle without it. You won't be able to do everything written above without doing this.

Love,
Yourself

PS. No pun intended.

Round Trip To Memory Lane

I had to ride round trip that night. It was Westlife's concert at the Araneta, and the crowd was so dense that I couldn't even get near the sliding doors of the train. In my far right, there was the women's section of the MRT, and it was so full that they had to line up beyond that section. It was the first time I've seen that happen. In front of me were adult men who pushed their way forward. Seconds after I stood behind them, they had to take a second look at me, a seventeen-year-old girl who probably looked years older and pretty with her mastery of "barely there" make-up and an almost plunging shirt.

I lied to the guards and told them I had to go to Taft, which was on the other side of where I should go. I think they had an idea that I was about to ride round trip, but what can they do? So they let me in and out without having to swipe my card again. When I got inside the train, a seat was immediately available after one stop. All I had to do was sit and wait 'til I get to Cubao, which, according to my estimation, would be thirty minutes after the start of the show.

People around me began to leave station after station until we reached Taft, the last station. Only two of us were left, I figured that the other person wouldn't mind waiting long than pushing her way into the train. If it wasn't for the aircon, I could have concluded that the MRT was the modern day version of those trains used in Hitler's concentration camps. The two of us sat there alone for less than a minute before people started rushing into the train which was now en route to Monumento.

Less than a minute was enough time for a quick flashback of when I was years younger. I saw myself, a grade school student, sleeping comfortably and tucked in my dad's wide arms. I woke up to see for the first time the sad, barely lighted highway towards Taft. I asked him where we were and he answered. I can't remember the details, but I believe I did something wrong that night, and we had to go somewhere to do something, so he went with me even though it was very late. Then another flashback came to mind, still in the MRT. I was twisting my body a little less than 90 degrees towards the window to contemplate and watch the moving scenery before me. My brother did the same, since either my mom or my dad wouldn't allow us to kneel on the seats. My dad was talking about something called "round trip" and I couldn't understand it at that time, no matter how he and my mom explained it to me.

Now I understand. I have grown up and I'm able to ride the MRT alone. But I would trade my age to be able to be wrapped in my father's arms again. Screw growing up, because now, he has to go abroad to be able to pay for this laptop I'm using to type this thing, and he wouldn't go home since he has to pay for my debut and college education. Screw growing up, because the last time he came home, I opened my arms for a hug, but he settled for a quick peck on the cheek because he was hesitant to embrace a teenage girl who now has boobs. Screw conformity, because we rarely say "I love you" and it gets harder to do sweet things each day. Will there be a day in the future when my parents would cuddle me like they did when I was a kid, and neither any of us would feel uneasy? Will I be able to nap on afternoons again as my father stretches both his arms, my mother laying her head on his right arm, while I and my brother lay our heads on the other one?

I honestly don't know. And I'm dead afraid to say no. I was close to tears on my way to Cubao, but I had to shut my eyes so tight and shoo off my thoughts. I would not cry all of a sudden in that train. People would think I'm crazy! After all, I am growing up, I knew better. Perhaps I'll continue this wishful thinking some other time, preferrably when I'm alone. At least last night it was good to be seventeen. The concert started just after I got in. I've been dying to see this since I was a kid.

The Drama of Moving Out

Oh-kay. Fun's over.

Moving into UP BREHA was easy for me. I actually felt lucky to be here, because a lot of freshies wanted to be here, too. I didn't know that the moving out was harder.

I just don't want to stay here anymore. Don't get me wrong, everyone here is nice. The guards, the admin, and my dormmates, they're all kind. They are what you call "acquaintances". They know my name, but they don't know who I am.

Passing the readmission letter to BREHA was already a difficult choice to make. As much as I wanted to say, " 'Wag mo nang ipasa 'yan, wala naman silang [my parents] magagawa 'pag di ka na-readmit eh," but I'm considering my parent's decision, too. Note CONSIDERING. And, if you're reading that letter right now, you'd probably think about what a total "plastic" I was.

I was talking to my mom a while ago, and it made me cry once again in my room. Of course, nobody heard me. That was like admitting I was problematic, and I wanted them to hear me out when I know they don't give a damn. I wish I could just say that I had eating problems in BREHA, and I HATE CURFEW. But I knew why I really wanted to go.

Don't get me wrong again. I love my roommates. They make me laugh so hard on cold, sad nights by just listening to their conversations. Again, note THEIR. I never really had a significant part in almost all of those conversations. I wanted to join, but I just wasn't the kind of person who knew how to make "banat" or to say something they would actually listen to. How did I even survive the first semester?

Going back to BREHA everytime I'm tired just makes me more stressed. It makes me lonelier by actually imposing the fact that, I'm going to a house, not a home. After an exhausting day, there wouldn't be a "family" to talk to me, or to hear me out. They're the closest people I have in the dormitory, but they're just like the others. They know about me, but they don't know who I am. I could never say something good, or useful. They have already boxed me as "that" girl, the girl whose loner/boring personality got the best of her. I guess, I am at fault, too. But I don't want to be told what to do anymore. I don't want to be told to relate better to them. I just don't want to be told to survive another semester with people who won't accept who I really am, people who never gave me the chance to show who I can be.

I know I should obey my parents. But are money, savings and safety all that matters? I would never know if I'll be able to stay here next sem, or be able to transfer to Diliman. Either way, I'm not doing it to follow my parent's plan for my life. I'm going to do it to follow God's plan.

I guess when I say "I don't want to live in BREHA anymore," all I mean is, I want to have a home. I need to have a family. Another semester is a very long time for me.