April 26, 2007


In an episode of Grey's Anatomy, one of the characters asked, "If I went missing, would anyone notice? ". When I first heard it, I disregarded it and claimed it was cheesy. However lately, I've kinda been asking that question. Maybe it was the birthday blues (or should I now call it post-birthday blues?), but for the past month, I've had this overwhelming feeling of being invisible.

While I will admit that I'm not a very sociable, extroverted individual, I couldn't help but feel that my social circles were shrinking to almost non-exisistent. It's like if I vanished, no one, except probably my dog, would notice. Sure, people see me, but they only see the me on the outside. They see me as an extension of my things, my accomplishments....but not as me. It's like I've been existing in my own world, taking care of myself and facing everything independently.

While I do value that independence and, dare I say, power, I can't help but wish sometimes, someone would be there with me. Not necessarily to do things for me, but to do things with me. I'm not talking about a "knight-in-shining-whatever" here --- I just mean I'm tired of doing things alone. While I do have friends, it often feels that I am doing things FOR them. Further, I feel like an old nightshirt that is stuffed at the back of the closet, drawn out occasionally. Admittedly, it's not that I'm asked to do things for others, and its perhaps my absurd need to please others all the time, but sometimes I wish I could see that I do have some degree of value or importance. I wish that people made an effort for me sometimes. More importantly, I wish they saw me more for who I really am, and not WHAT I am. That I do have feelings, and although they may not understand where it comes from, its there.

While it was said in jest a long time ago that I was not asked to be bridesmaid at someone's wedding because it would cost more to have a dress made for me compared to having one made for someone skinnier, it cut me to the core. It was as if, in my perception, that I was just not good enough.Similarly, someone at work jokingly said that I'd have to live a love life vicariously because I'd probably never get married, I felt like I was simple not worth much. As immature as it is, it hurt so badly that I spent my birthday alone, even though I did recieve text messages and birthday greetings. It's selfish, sure, but it just felt that to the people who mattered to me, I was on the back-burner and that there were just too many things more important than I was. Even though I know it was unintentional, when I was not included in transportation plans for a recent event, I felt terrible. Again, it was assumed that I would be okay on my own. Put it this way, when I said I was feeling down and depresseed recently, someone retorted "This coming from someone who just bought a new car AND a mac". Yes, I am lucky I was able to do that and that I could afford it. But what hurt was being told this with so much sarcasm, as if because I had things come more easily than others do, I had no right to feel sad. It felt like a slap on the face; a total invalidation of my feelings.

Cognitively I know it's irrational, but feelings-wise, it's been hard to reconcile. In my head I know it's my unconscious need for affirmation, or perhaps attention, and a need to be liked by others. It's difficult to understand, even for myself, and yes, I know to many extents its so childish and pathetic. Maybe it's the inner child in me, or perhaps the wounded soul...but I need someone to take care of me too. I need to know I'm not invisible, and that I'm not simply remembered in passing. It's not necessarily being TOLD that I am remembered, I just wish I could see that I am appreciated and wanted. As someone once said, the best conversations you could have would be those with a friend, sitting on a bench, without saying a word at all. You just know you're not invisible. to continue reading...

April 22, 2007

Gluing back the pieces

Gluing back the pieces when life falls apart is never easy. It's a painful, messy mess that leaves you chipped, cracked and broken. Even if you are successful gluing it back together, it's never ever gonna be the same. While supposedly these cracks or chips add character, it isn't always welcome.

Of all the pieces that are hardest to put back together, it's a broken heart. Mistakes at work, it's simple, just do a better job. Arguments with friends, flared tempers and petty "tampuhans", an apology and the renewed respect for the value of the friendship is the cure. With embarassments, some time, some tequila, a few laughs: it's all better. But a broken amount of superglue or even duct tape can really put it back together again.

In an episode of Sex and the City, Carrie ended by saying “No matter who broke your heart or how long it takes to heal, you'll never get through it without your friends”. I guess Carrie's right, you can't get through it without your friends. Without them, who'll help you put the piece in the right place, or carefully pinch the tube of glue with out getting you more messed up?

But what do you do when your friends get sick of it, or worse, don’t get that despite the passage of time and sincere efforts you put into putting back the pieces of your once perfectly managed life you're not okay? It's as if no matter how much glue I use, it's never enough to put me back together again...especially when all you want to do is to say how much I miss him.

So what do you do when as pathetic as it is, the only glue that I can't think of right now is him? to continue reading...

April 18, 2007

Home Improvement

About a week and a half ago, I finally gathered up enough will to get out of my room and grab a cup of coffee. I had spent the entire day in bed nursing a little headache and a huge heartache while watching episode after episode of Ally McBeal. In many of the episodes, Ally would be sippig a cup of coffee from Starbucks, hence the craving for coffee. So I got up, brushed my hair and put on a clean outfit then got in my car and drove the five minute drive to "my" Starbucks.

When I got there, I was devastated!!! It was boarded up and a sign hung saying they were closed for renovation. Talk about bitin!!!

Anyway, yesterday I drove by the area and saw that they had resumed business already and so at the spur of a moment, I decided to park my car and hang out while working on a report I was writing. Although the renovations were minor, the place felt spruced up and more vibrant. As I sat with my laptop in front of me, I remembered all the times I had spent studying, working or just whiling away time there. A few years ago, when it first opened accross the street from my mothers house, I spent about 4 out of 7 afternoons there for hours! I started reminicsing about friends now gone, moments passed by, and yes, aches and pains made better over a cup of coffee.

I sat there, somewhat wiser than I was when I first set foot in the doors of that Starbucks branch, and realized that things really have changed. I no longer am just a student trying to study for my comps, or a lonely young girl mending a broken heart. I was not the sick, skinnier version of myself, and though the weight gain may not be something I appreciate, I realized that it wasn't so bad.

Just like walls that need fresh coat of paint, or couches that need new upholstery, even old spaces that just need to be moved around, we need some home improvement ourselves. At least for myself. For example, I was whining recently about how I just couldn't get things done the way I used to do it. I guess it was all the grime and dirt cluttering up my system. The anger, resentment, disappointments...all of these became stains on my wall of optimism. Because of it, there was no brightness and pleasure around.

While it may not be as easy to clean up my act as it was in Starbucks, I am inspired to at least try. Slowly, I guess, I will find a renewed brightness. But for now, I'll start with throwing out my trash. Let's see how that spruces up my personal rooms.

Things do change. And change is good. It may not be easy, but then again, who ever said life was easy? to continue reading...

April 16, 2007

Why I cry at weddings

"I need to believe that men and women love each other. I need to know that they go home to each other every night, so I can believe that it will happen to me too someday". - Ally McBeal

While I may not be the only person who cries at weddings, I always feel selfish when I do. Why? Because honestly, many times I cry no only because of happiness or well-wishes towards the newlyweds. Rather, I cry for myself. When the bride walks down the aisle, I have my own Ally McBeal moment and see myself in her shoes, walking towards the man of my dreams. But reality sinks in and I realize it isn't me, and so I imagine my heart crashing into a million pieces right in front of my eyes. Selfish, right?

I do feel happy for the couple getting married. But whenever I am at a wedding, especially lately when I see all my friends get married, my feelings of insecurity are heightened and all my defenses crumble. While success and career have been blessed for me, sometimes I can't help but retort to myself, "I never really asked for that". After all, growing up I always dreamt of being a housewife, complete with the two and a half kids, a station wagon, the dog and the white picket fence.

However, this weekend, at the wedding of one of my "sisters", it dawned on me why I cry at weddings. While the anxities were stirred up and the woe-is-me feelings were pushed to the surface, I realized at the end of the day that I am not crying because I don't have what she has. I cry because through these people who take the plunge and walk into forever together, I start to believe again that love exists.

"I think I need to believe that it, couplehood, partnerships. The idea that when people come together they stay together, I have to take that with me to bed, even if I have to go to bed alone." - Ally McBeal to continue reading...

April 7, 2007

Seattle Grace

For the past two months, I have set up camp in the surgical wing of Seattle Grace hospital. Everyday, despite all the work I need to do, I switch on my dvd and settle in, watching and re-watching the drama unfolding in the lives of those surgical interns and attendings in Grey's Anatomy. I cannot count the nights I spent crying myself to sleep while watching Meredith proclaim "I miss you" to McDreamy. I cried while she asked "why didn't you fight harder". And yes, I cried when she realized her mother slipped back into her Alzheimers state. I lived life vicariously through the lives of those people. Pathetic as it may sound, it made me feel "alive". I was happy, I was sad...I cried, I laughed and I felt the hurt and hopes they did too.

Initially, I watched it only to keep myself entertained. After a while, it started conjuring up weird images in my head and leading me to recall past and present relationships I was going through. I started comparing and relating things I was thinking and feeling to what was going on in the show. Soon, my reality started shifting, and all that mattered what was going on in Seattle Grace.

When I stop to think about it, why do I keep watching it, even though I know what's gonna happen next? Even more, why do I keep getting emotionally involved in a make-believe show, a fairy-tale, a life of pretend?!?

Then it dawned on me. I love watching the show for two reasons: first because by being in Seattle, I was not sitting home alone watching television feeling low and disapointed in my sad, uneventful existence. Because I was there, I did not hace to face my thoughts, feelings and emotions, nor did I have to admit what it was I wanted or did not want.

Secondly, watching Grey's Anatomy gave me and excuse to feel. It gave me an excuse to be sad, to be hurt, to be lonely, and even to be happy without facing my own emotions head-on. By feeling through these characters, it was okay to cry. It was okay to laugh and somehow, it offered me some degree of comfort knowing that no matter what, somehow, things will be okay. The little bits of wisdom narrated at the start and end of the show likewise gave me the semblance of insight. While it may not be my experiences, it still gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe things will indeed be alright be alright. By pretending, I did not have to face the truth.

The thing is, I can only pretend so far. So at the end of the show, I'm left with the truth that I don't have the answers and that my life is a mess despite the mask of "all-is-well" that I wear. In the end, I know I have to face the fact I'm not okay and that behind the confident, independent woman is a scared and broken little girl who doesn't know what to do anymore. But in the meantime, for my sanity's sake, I press rewind, and watch it all over again. to continue reading...

  © Blogger templates Psi by 2008

Watch Pacquiao Vs Clottey Live Streaming and Watch Pacquiao vs Clottey's video live stream

Back to TOP