in defense of being verbose

28 – the tiny bit of hope

Dec
31

What a year you’ve been, 2018.

All my plans practically went flying out of the window quite early on, and I was practically just drifting along with whatever The Universe was throwing my way, day by day. 2018 gave me the year in which I went on to do all the things I would have never even thought of doing, in both a good AND bad way.

The nosedive moments were particularly bad. It got so bad to the point that I came to the intention of offing myself. I’m still mildly horrified by the fact that I actually came to this decision and was somewhat excited to plan all this. It’s not like something big happened and hit me right in the face the way 2016 and 2017 had gone for me, in fact things were so.. flat. It seemed like nothing was going anywhere and yet the pressure just kept piling on and on, health-wise I was doing absolutely terrible, and I genuinely felt like I had nowhere else to go and saw no other way but to feel like a lump of rock sinking in the ocean. I was doubting my ability to even feel anything anymore.

And yet somehow, a lot of things suddenly started to happen (not sure if I should start listing them down here), and I came to the thought: you know what, I can actually get through all this. Sure, I felt a lot of pain along the way, but I actually felt something. I was still alive, after all.  I went on to realize that there is still so much left to see, to do, to feel. Goddamnit, if the Universe had decided that my time was enough, I definitely would have been done with by now. But nope, I’m still here and for whatever reason it is, I’m still serving a purpose by being here.

I guess to sum it up, 2018 has been the year that gave me so much love, taught me so much patience and got me through so much pain. What do I have planned for 2019? Nothing. I guess, I just need to keep going where the light is.  And fuck it, if I survived 2018, pretty sure I’ll be strong enough for 2019. Zero expectation, but I’ll be full of hope. Come at me, 2019.

 

27 – the plot twists

Dec
28

Have you ever felt so confused by how everything is turning into unexpected surprises to the point that you get a bit scared of even making plans?

The past few weeks have been rather topsy-turvy, and not necessarily in a good way. It’s like a lot of things going on in my life just suddenly decided to take a wild turn into completely different directions. I know I’ve mentioned this tendency in the previous post or so, but still. The magnitude of this week has been dizzying.

To be honest, I’m not sure this is how I would like to end the year. I try not to be sulky, but now I just don’t see a point in making new year resolutions. But then again, when do we ever get our way over Mother Nature’s wishes? The Universe works in so many different ways, and most of the time it won’t necessarily be the one you agree with. And the earth still spins.

One more week, Wins. One more week until the year ends. While I’m aware that things may not necessarily change for the better right away, but at least something will definitely change for sure.

26 – the love you save

Dec
06

“I think you have to allow people to love you.”

“I just see you as rather being too hard on yourself.”

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether you hate yourself or you’re just really constantly angry at everything.”

You know something needs changing when you get all of the above said to you by different people, within 24 hours.

It doesn’t take much for me to agree that I am my own worst critic. I still cringe every time I get reminded of how much I hated myself back then. Not sure how it came to be, but it turns out that my fight with self-hatred is taking an unbelievably long time to recover from.

From quite early on, I used to deny myself any sense of achievement and instantly tuck everything away in the “glitch in the system / pure luck” folder. Also, blaming myself for everything that happened around me came around almost naturally. Enter repressed grief and a relationship that I was not willing to admit that it was abusive, well.. self-love kind of just kept on sliding down the slope.

Now that I’ve come to think of it, no wonder things got physical for me. Being the psychosomatic mess that I am, the whole works went on. Stress rash, insomnia, liver problems, eating issues, and of course, the icing on the cake, the heart. I became the girl who was cradling a broken heart 24/7, figuratively and literally. And how did I cope with it? Why, through self-deprecating jokes of course. It was only a matter of time until the thoughts came creeping up on me. I’m just glad I’ve always been stubborn enough to just keep thinking “One more day. Just one more day, if that turns out real bad then we bail” (Which I’ve never done up to this moment. Thankfully).

I am getting help. I am working on myself. I am seeking forgiveness from my own being by deciding to finally start taking care of myself. It has been a continuous struggle, I admit, but I have to. I owe it to myself.

Seeing how I’ve always been doing things quite alright, let’s hope this one works out as well. No more relapse.