When I first opened an account on Multiply, I only posted pictures and music… I shied away from posting blog entries altogether. It was like I had a decade long writer’s block. My muse was on strike for the longest time (or something to that effect). So I read other people’s entries, living vicariously through them, desperately wishing that I could recapture my passion for creative writing.
One night, a couple of years ago, I saw my old writing buddies, friends I met back when I was a zealous student writer. One of them (that’s you Ai) told me that I should write again because she really misses my stories. That struck a chord in me, deeper than I expected, and so I made an attempt to string together words to express how I really feel, what I was going through at the time. But it was hard, painfully so. I felt lost, like all my principles and beliefs in the past have gone out the window, like pieces of paper scattered in the wind. I realized I didn’t have anything to write about anymore… not because nothing was going on in my life, but mostly because I didn’t really care anymore.
So I stuck with safe (for me), impersonal issues, like politics or the environment, while a struggle raged on inside me. I found myself desperately trying to make sense of everything that’s happened in my life. I loved a whole lot and lost even more, throughout the years that I stopped coming home to my favorite sanctuary, writing. I lost Mama, Papa, my dreams, my chance at love (more than once)… I even lost my dignity at one point. But I guess the most important part of my life that I truly lost for the longest time was my faith – in God, in others and most of all in me. When I lost my faith, hope seemed to leave along with it… leaving me empty and desolate
I spent my days and nights going through the motions – laughing, crying, singing, and even eating – without feeling anything. It was like I was on general anesthesia, this time of my own making. I let one incident in my life, which wasn’t even of my own making and truly beyond my control, numb me… leeching away all feeling in my body and soul, until I was left only a shell of the woman I used to be.
I spent my free time alone, shying away from my friends, reliving my past and desperately wishing I could go back and change it. I became a loner – not just alone but indescribably lonely. It was like I just gave up on everything and everyone, thinking that I have nothing to look forward to and nothing to be thankful for. I blamed God for what happened to me, asking Him constantly why He gave me too much pain at such a young age, wondering why he abandoned me and denied me my bright future – the one I had painstakingly started to build ever since I began to dream, and dream big at that.
I should’ve known better. I should’ve realized that He does have a plan for me, all I had to do was seek His guidance and believe again. But at the time, especially during the lowest points, I was blind to everyone else but my own pain. I didn’t even realize that my Mama was going through considerable pain of her own. Nor did I notice that my Papa (Grandpa) was reaching out to me, even during those days when he was incoherent due to the trappings of old age. He would ask me to buy him something and I would do so, but not gladly. I realized too late, he was already on his deathbed, that it was his way of seeking my attention. I regret now how I never spent much time with him during the months before he passed away. I was too wrapped up in my own pain to notice that I was slowly losing the one person who had always stood by me from day one. The one person who fed me and clothed me and took care of me, even after he came home from work drained and bone-weary. I didn’t realize that I was losing my rock, my only father-figure growing up, my closest ally, my number one friend… until it was too late to tell him how much I love him, how much he means to me, how much he matters, how much difference he has made in my life. The night he died, my world came crashing down… and instead of turning to the Lord for solace, I blamed him yet again. Little did I know that He was trying to tell me something… I was just too self-involved, too caught up in my pain to listen.
A week after, my Mama fell seriously ill, but I had no idea it was that bad. The first time I brought her to the hospital, I was unconcerned. I thought to myself, she’ll be home in no time. We’ve been to countless doctors and hospitals, I’m sure this will be like the last time. She was treated with a few injections, some medications and in no time, I brought her home. Just three days after, she complained of the same symptoms so we went back to the hospital and a week later, she was home again. That night, Mama collapsed in her room and my uncle, her closest sibling, rushed her to the hospital and I didn’t even find out about it until I woke up the next day.
Had I known that those were the last few weeks I would ever see or talk to my Mama again, I would’ve stayed by her bedside day and night. But again, I was too caught up in my own pain to heed the signs. I realized too late that Mama wasn’t just in physical pain, she was emotionally battered as well. She just lost her closest ally, her best friend, her father… we were both going through the same ordeal. She never showed it to me but I learned that she was crying every single night, all alone in her dreary old room, torn apart with the pain of her loss. Had I paid close attention, I would’ve discovered that Mama was feeling the worst kind of loss a daughter would ever have – losing a parent. It’s sad how, failing to recognize her pain, I would go though the same less than a month later.
I had plenty of excuses not to spend hours on end with Mama. I would use work as my excuse, or physical discomforts, or lack of sleep. I would visit her each day to talk to her and see how she was doing and what she needed, but I never stayed for more than two hours at a time, even just to talk about things that are going on with our family and friends, or just to talk about losing Papa. I was too self-involved, too caught up in my own personal hell that I never reached out to her, if only to cheer her up.
That fateful night of February 15, 2004, I got a call at around 1:30 a.m. The relative that we had been paying to stay with Mama every night told me to wake everyone up because Mama passed away at 1:15 a.m. My world came crashing down once again… this time, I was buried under an avalanche of everything that mattered most. Mama was gone, but it would take me almost 4 years to realize that she truly was, and that she was never coming back to this earth to comfort me and care for me.
I cried during her wake and especially when she was buried. At night, while waiting for sleep to come, a keen sense of loss would come over me but I had no tears to shed. I desperately wanted to cry in the next few months after we laid her body to rest, but no tears would come. I would feel an indescribable pain in my chest, sometimes I wanted to scream because of it, but still, no tears.
Pretty soon, life would go back to normal for me. I’d work all day, and surf the net at night, go to the mall on my own during weekends, visit the cemetery regularly. But the one thing I didn’t do was go to church. Sure, I would attend mass if my Lola nags me, but it wasn’t of my own volition. I still harbored feelings of rage and resentment against Him for everything that’s happened to me.
There have been many signs along the road, I was just too concerned with my own struggles to notice. Most prominent of which is the amazing blessing that I received when my birth father found me after 25 years without any contact. It was such an amazing gift, I was too dumb to realize it then but now I’m awed – truly, God works in mysterious ways. I have this chance to share with my father everything that I had failed to give to Mama and Papa. I’m definitely not gonna let it go to waste.
I had no idea that this year would bring about such a drastic change in my life that I would be left reeling from the aftershocks. The second half of 2007 was witness to a very unfortunate upheaval at my workplace. That, in turn, would push me towards a downward spiral, leaving me incapacitated for days at a time. My health took a turn for the worst. Each week I would be suffering from some illness or another, until such time that my doctor friends advised me to go to the emergency room and have myself confined for a few days due to my chronic cough, which I had been nursing for a month and a half back then.
I went to the hospital, putting up a brave front and telling my family that I would be fine staying alone at night and I didn’t need anyone to watch over me. My first night there, I couldn’t sleep. I was tossing and turning every which way but sleep would not come. And so I began thinking… about everything that’s happened that led me to that moment, all alone and wracked with self-pity.
I thought about my life back when I showed so much promise -- in college – where I was reaping one accolade after another, travelling all over Luzon and the Visayas, learning and sharing and laughing and loving. The one point in my life when I thought my dreams were just a hair’s-breadth away… and I thought to myself, “What went wrong? How could I have let one setback scar me for life and snatch my dreams away like a thief in the night?”
That night the answer to my questions eluded me. Morning came, I slept a few hours and then my friends came to visit me in the afternoon. Again, my brave front was up. I was joking around, trying to mask my inner pain. My family came and left soon after and then, once again, I was all alone with my thoughts. Still, no answer would come that night. The next couple of days, different sets of friends came and went, with my family becoming a regular afternoon staple. During my last night in the hospital, it was like a dam burst, the floodgates opened and all these emotions came rushing in. I cried, buckets of tears, probably, and I kept on crying until it hurt to breathe.
I cried not only because of the pain but also because I was ashamed – of my actions in the past and how they affected others, especially the people I hold dear to me, of my selfish ways and lack of compassion for everyone else, but mostly, of my arrogance and downright cruelty to the One who has always stood by me, even when I pushed Him away. My shame was so tangible, it was like I could actually reach out and touch it. That, I think, was the turning point in my life.
The next day, I begged the doctor to let me go home earlier than he would’ve wanted, because I was dying to share my realizations with my friends, hoping that they could help me make sense of it all. But when the opportunity actually came, and we were all together face to face, I chickened out, choosing to share bits and pieces and keeping my inner shame to myself.
The day after our meeting, I decided to chalk up enough courage to give them a glimpse of what was really going on inside my head. I wrote them an e-mail, a very long one at that. Sure, I hid my true feelings behind jokes and quips but I forgot one thing – my oldest friends, who I’ve known since I was just a kid with runny nose in school, know me better than I know myself. They could see behind my carefree façade and knew exactly what I was trying to tell them. Now I realize that it’s true, God sends people into our lives for a reason, they are instruments meant to convey His love and help shape His plan for us. (Thanks, Jaze, for the reminder.)
Throughout our countless exchanges, stemming from that soul-baring e-mail, I have grown. I realized that I’m not alone, and I’m not the only one going through life’s trials. The only difference between us is – they have conquered their fears and life’s trials, and reached for their dreams. And so I resolved to rebuild my shattered life and dreams, equipped with the knowledge that I will never be alone. I will always have Someone to fall back on, Someone who has never left my side even when I pushed Him so far away, Someone who will always protect me and love me even if everyone else would turn their backs on me, my Lord and my Savior.
This journey hasn’t been easy, and I’m sure I’m gonna meet more speedbumps ahead. But I am content in the knowledge that I am blessed, I always have been and I always will be. I was just too blind to see that back then. I hope that will never happen again. I realize now that I felt like I lost everything and had nothing to live for, not because that was true, but only because I was living my life without any regard for the Greater Plan. My life was filled with I’s and Me’s, I forgot about Him and His plan.
I know this journey is far from over, and I would mess up and hurt others or get hurt along the way, but I also know that’s part of this adventure we call life. I’m just glad I’m moving again, moving on, moving forward, just moving. Now I pray, genuinely pray for His guidance – not just for me or for my family and friends but for everyone else. All those heart-to-heart talks the past few weeks have done wonders for me, it’s been more than therapeutic, it has shaped me into someone who I now accept and love. This, I hope, will allow me to love and accept others as well.
This, for me, is true liberation. Free from the shackles of past sins done by me or against me, free from the burden of doing everything on my own. Now I know I have God to guide me along the way, making sure that if I stumble, I would get up again and keep going, secure in the knowledge that I am not alone. So yes, I am blessed, we all are. I have my family to stand by me in sickness and in health, I have fabulous friends who will always be there for me no matter what, I have my health, which has drastically improved since I snapped out of my decade long slumber, but most of all, I have my faith back, which has brought renewed hope into my life… Hope for a brighter future filled with love, happiness and peace of mind.
So I’m saying this to all of you who have stood by me and patiently waited while I figured things out on my own – THANK YOU & GOD BLESS! You’re all amazing and I hope you will never change. Luv y’all! :)