The Tragedy of Suicide

Suicide.

The act of killing yourself because you do not want to continue living, according to Miriam Webster dictionary.

Killing one’s self.

There are so many ways to kill yourself. People often ask why. We rarely find any answer, we barely understand it.

It’s a complex issue that most people often mistake as a simple scenario where a person just snapped and offed himself or herself.

It’s not.

People must understand that it is not a snap decision. Call it selfish, call it cowardly, but it is not impulsive. It doesn’t happen right away, it happens over time. It must be realized that it could have been prevented. It should have been prevented.

I do not support suicide, but I also do not want to condemn those who committed it or thought about doing it.

I cannot and do not speak for others, I only speak for myself. I believe that it is natural to fear death, because there is the fear of the unknown. If a person starts to fear living more than dying, then I believe that it is an indication that there is something severely wrong.

Countless of times I have wondered why was I born, and most of the time I wish I could just disappear. Sometimes the desire is so great, yet I am aware that I cannot do it. I cannot kill myself, because I know it is wrong. I remember wishing for death so badly. Shame filled my body at that time, because I know it is wrong, yet I wanted to die. The desire and inability to fulfill the desire caused a lot of dissonance within me. I felt devastated. My doctor asked me why I felt that way. I could only cry, because I could not pinpoint a single event that made me wish it. A lot of things happened, and I couldn’t tell which of them triggered me.

A lot of people would do everything in order to stay alive. I know. They know. That’s even more painful, because we already know it’s wrong and yet we somehow still wish to die. When people try to prevent them from doing it by adding even more guilt and pressure, I would believe that it is very counter-productive.

There are others who romanticize suicide. Stop it. It is not beautiful. It is saddening. It is not the way to send a message, it is not the way to ask for help. There are others who criticize the person who died. Stop it. Some people say that it is a form of victim blaming, and I agree with them. There are ways to stop it, and you are not helping by criticizing it. Give ways to help people who are alive right now, who are contemplating committing it right now. Help by doing what you think should be done. Read up on mental health and illnesses, try to understand it. Try to understand people.

Empathy and compassion goes a long way. Lend an ear to a stranger, give a hug to a friend. Say a good word here and there. Those little things mean a lot in the long run.

It has to be understood and realized that sometimes, they aren’t enough, that professional help is required. The stigma against mental health has taken and ruined a lot of lives. It could have been prevented, it should have been prevented, and yet here we are in our society where people die because of their own hands.

Some would say that suicide is caused by lack of faith in God. In Islam, suicide is condemned. I don’t want to judge, for I believe God has the final say in everything, and indeed He even provided a prayer against suicide.

“Oh Allah, keep me alive until life is good for me and give me death when that is the better for me” [Bukhari, Muslim]

But not everyone has the luxury and blessing of faith. Sometimes, it just get really difficult. That is why realizing and accepting that mental health has to be taken care of is very important.

I dedicate this post to Chester Bennington, who I do not know personally, but his songs have touched my life in ways I cannot describe. He was an artist who spoke from the heart. There is both a tragedy and irony in his works. The world has listened but did not understand.

This is also for all the people who have thought of doing it, and still does.

To all the people suffering out there, there are those who still care, if we could only just reach out.

And you’re angry, and you should be, it’s not fair
Just ’cause you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it, isn’t there

If they say
Who cares if one more light goes out?
In the sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when someone’s time runs out?
If a moment is all we are
Or quicker, quicker

Who cares if one more light goes out?

Well I do

Help other people, and at the very least, please help yourself.

Always at the Crossroads

Last year, 2016, I was at the crossroads. I couldn’t enroll in my current law school because of certain complications and I was forced to decide whether to continue studying law or not.

I find it funny, that I find myself waiting and trying to decide again whether to continue with it or not. I thought it was over. I thought I just had to look forward and move, but I hit another dead-end. It’s like a game that I keep on playing, with my character that keeps on getting beat up and dying. After that the screen is asking “do you want to continue? yes or no” with ten seconds left before automatically making a choice for me.

Life is like that, isn’t it? It’s a game. A series of choices that would lead you to somewhere. Some people know where that somewhere is, I don’t.

I’m in danger of trashing my lawyer dream once again. I can’t help but laugh bitterly as I ask myself what is it with me that I keep on failing. Is it really not for me? Is this a sign? Is it a punishment for believing that I could do it when I clearly cannot do it?

The other day, our professor talked to us after we chased after him to plead our case. He said no of course, then after that he went on to lecture us about life, about how we could find other things to do, that what happened to us was not fatal and we should stop if it’s really not for us then it’s not, that what we did was undignified. He said a lot of things that were pretty inspiring and at the same time annoying. Annoying because I already knew them, annoying because some of what he said were untrue.

I don’t know what happened this semester. I have no one to blame but myself. I can’t help but feel disgust every time I am reminded of my disorder that the society doesn’t acknowledge, and they even consider it as just a part of imagination. I hate using my disorder as my excuse, but I also hate knowing that it may be imaginary for other but it is real for me and it may have stopped me from living fully once again. I hate that I forgot that I have it, that I couldn’t control it to save myself. Most of all, I hate having it.

I hate how I tried so hard to save others, that I forgot to save myself. I hate the feeling of resentment that I have against the people that I have helped when they succeed and I don’t. I hate the feeling of disgust and self-hatred when I know I have no right to feel such emotions. They didn’t ask for it, I gave it. Willingly. I hate it, I hate it so much, thinking how my doctor and others would berate for giving too much while receiving almost nothing at all. I hate being normally self-contradicting.

I didn’t help them because I wanted to be paid back. I help people because I want to, because it makes me feel better, because it distracts from how much of a failure I am. It doesn’t hurt that they don’t appreciate me or say thank you, but it helps to feel appreciated. It hurts me when I ask myself why am I such a failure, and what did I do wrong? It hurts to hear people say and point at me, making me as an example of why people shouldn’t be too kind. I don’t understand this thing, about being too kind when in my mind I’m just being a decent human being. Isn’t it sad that most people nowadays would applaud nice acts like it isn’t expected and normal?

Now I don’t know what to do. I know what I want to do, but we don’t always get what we want right? Like I said, I’m at the crossroads again. Life is just really tiring. I guess I’m just a perpetually exhausted pigeon, not that phoenix that I fancy myself to be rising from the ashes.

Law school and life has beaten me again, and again, and again. The question is: will I continue?

I want to, oh how much I sincerely want to that it makes me want to vomit. I value this opportunity so much, and I know how much blessed I am with this privilege, more so than anyone else because of my experience. Last year, I have felt bitterness when I heard of people quitting and wasting the opportunity they were given.

I guess it’s karma that I might become the people I have resented. I am just so tired and exhausted. More than that, I don’t know how much I can take anymore. I have been pushing since day one, and I want to do more. I want to give more but I feel myself burning out, I have burned out.

I don’t think my friends and family realize, how I think that if I choose to continue it would be too selfish of me. I want to stop not only because I’m tired but because it costs too much. It’s expensive, the tuition, the time, the medicine if I want to keep my sanity, and all other costs I have not accounted yet.

Yet, I still want to continue. I still want to try. I still want to ask God, God is this for me? God will you let me? God please?

I have been asked by my parents previously to stop. I can’t describe how much it hurt, how much it pained me to hear those words from them, because it merely enforced the idea that what I did, what I’m doing is selfish, and that I can’t do it.

Despite that, I still want to try, to see where I could go. Despite being berated by our professor for our actions, I don’t regret anything. I felt happy that we tried. We had our closure for that certain subject. People don’t know how much I am glad, that for once I have fought. I have failed but I have fought.

I am honestly still scared. I am scared to learn that it’s not really for me, because I know it will hurt. I will be satisfied knowing that I did what I could, but it will still be painful.

I guess we really have no better choice in life but to move forward like always. Yes, I want to continue.

I’ll have to see whether God will let me. It will hurt, it will burn, but maybe a perpetually exhausted pigeon that is burned can rise from the ashes and become a phoenix?

Wishful thinking, but we have to see don’t we? Assuming I don’t become fried chicken instead, ahaha.

I might always be at the crossroads, always getting lost. Hopefully, someday, I’ll get to my destination.

 

Aloe’s Wishes

“Aloe, smile!”

A seven-year old Aloe blinked then smiled a toothy grin at his mother, albeit some of his tooth were either missing or still growing. His black eyes bright with wonderment as he heard a click coming from the machine his mother was holding.

“I wanna try! Momma!” Aloe exclaimed as he waved his hands and tried to touch the camera. The castle he was trying to build with his Lego blocks was ignored in favor of the new contraption in his mother’s hands.

He stood up excitedly; his height reaching up to the waist of his mother. His mother laughed and let the camera hang around her neck to crouch down and look at Aloe in the eye. Aloe clearly inherited his mother’s beautiful onyx eyes.

She pinched Aloe’s cheeks and kissed his forehead. “Nope, this is for grown-ups only.”

Aloe pouted and wondered why his mother wouldn’t trust him with the gadget.

“But, I won’t break it,” he promised earnestly at his mother. His mother giggled at her son’s persistence. “I promise! I’ll be careful!” Aloe’s mother could only smile gently at his begging. She just ruffled her son’s jet black hair and pinched his cheeks again.

“Still nope. But I’ll give you something else,” she started to rummage something in her pockets. Before she could find it and give it to Aloe, she was surprised by her son’s words.

“Momma, the dentist said no chocolates for me yet,”

“Oh,”

“Yup! He said it’s bad for my teeth,”

“But let’s just keep it a secret between us, ok?” she whispered to him as she placed the chocolate bar in his hands.

When Aloe turned ten, he couldn’t understand why people acted so differently from the way they think. Even though he was smarter for his age, he really was still a child, confused by the complicated way the world works.

“Mom, why did you say you to the lady that you liked her dress when you clearly don’t?“ Aloe turned his curious eyes at his mother. His mother, clearly flustered, breathed in deeply to compose herself then smiled sadly at him

“Dear,” her mother hesitated. “There are things called white lies. Sometimes they’re needed to be polite and to avoid hurting anyone. Sometimes it’s necessary.”

“So, it’s okay to lie if it doesn’t hurt anyone?

“Yes.”

Aloe frowned and turned away from his mother.

When Aloe turned fifteen, his parents made the first major lie to him. They have never lied to him before about big things. He didn’t understand why they would.

“Mom?” Aloe cautiously approached his sobbing mother, who was frantically wiping away her tears.

“I’m okay,” his mother immediately said before he could open his mouth again. Aloe narrowed his eyes at his mother’s words. He waited for her to calm down, then what she frantically vomited the words as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I think, I think your father is having an affair.”

Aloe felt blank. He, for a second, wished his mother had lied to him and kept her pain to herself. He was immediately overcome with the feeling of self-hatred and shame for his thoughts.

“Don’t say anything to your father!” His mother suddenly realized how Aloe could react to what she has just said. Aloe felt the tears fall before he realized he was crying.

“Aloe even if he doesn’t love me anymore, he still loves you, you’re still his son, so just do your best and always make him proud okay?” His mother whispered through her sobs. Aloe hugged his mother, and made a promise to himself.

Later that night, he heard his mother confront his father at the living room.

“Where were you? It’s already night,” His mother’s voice was heavy with accusation.

“I was at the meeting!” Aloe flinched. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Lies are wrong, but he was taught about white lies. He drowned out the rest of their arguments.

Aloe heard the door to his room being opened then closed quietly. He looked at his mother’s shaking body.

“Aloe, where did he really go?” His mother stared at him, her eyes begging him to say something. Aloe stayed silent.

“Please, where?” Aloe felt conflicted, but he had no choice. No, he had a choice but he knew what he had to do.

“He didn’t go to the meeting,”

Since then he stopped talking to his mother about his father.

When Aloe turned nineteen, he was told off by people. He tried to disagree with them, but he often found the world proving their words right.

Aloe gazed thoughtfully at the paper in his hand. The score written on it indicated that he passed. He also noticed that it was wrongfully counted. If he had it corrected, he would fail the course.

He approached his professor. “Ma’am, my exam score is wrong, it should be lower.”

That sealed his faith. He slowly walked back to his seat, mindful of what he just did.

“Stop being too truthful, you won’t survive the real world that way,” His classmate told him after having approached their professor.

“I’ll live, you’ll see,” Aloe coolly replied and promptly ignored him.

When Aloe turned twenty-one, he was already exhausted and jaded. His black eyes stared tiredly at the people walking all around him inside the coffee shop. He quietly observed all the people having conversation around him, and he couldn’t help but to feel the resentment.

“I wish that people would be more honest”

“Even if just to themselves”

“I wish to tell the truth”

Twisted Truth

Jaded black eyes stared tiredly at the people walking all around him inside the coffee shop.  A half-empty mug of coffee was placed beside an open red notebook. There were scattered pens, books, and papers all over the table. The owner of the red notebook tapped his fingers on the table, trying to block out the senseless noise he was hearing from the other café patrons.

“I’m worried about Tansy,” a boy said while balancing books in his hands.

“Yeah, me too, I want to help her,” a girl with short hair responded as she walked in front of her friend.

Aloe, a university student, could only sigh deeply and gaze contemptuously at his peers as they passed by him and went out of the establishment. The bell rang signaling the opening and closing of the door. He shook his head and tried to focus on his readings. He was struggling to understand some of the fancy terms in Latin while trying hard not to cringe at the thought of being called in class for the particular topic.

“Yo. Why the long face?” an amused voice disrupted Aloe’s thoughts.

Aloe turned his head and found his friend, standing right behind him with a mug in his hand and looking over the messy table. Aloe craned his neck to look at his blonde-haired friend.

“What? You’re not used to my resting bitch face yet?” Aloe smiled wryly as he waited for his friend to sit across him. Peter hummed as he sat comfortably on the cushioned chair.

“You heard them talking about Tansy?” Peter nonchalantly asked while sipping from his own drink, and the steam from the coffee slightly fogged up the eyeglasses he was wearing. Behind the spectacles, blue eyes peered curiously at Aloe.

“Yeah, I did,” Aloe said in a resigned voice, he ran a hand through his black messy hair.

Silence reigned over the two of them as they were left to their own thoughts. Aloe took comfort in the quietness where he could hear no lies and insincere words. Peter was one of the people Aloe was comfortable with, as the latter was one of the rare people who the former got along with.

The silence was broken when Peter spoke out loud.

“Sometimes, I think you see too much.”

“Do I?” Aloe pretended not to know what Peter was talking about.

“I dunno, do you?” Peter tilted his head at Aloe.

Aloe laughed bitterly. The words spoken by his friend were so near yet so far to the truth of his obscure ability. “No, I don’t. I can’t even find what I’m looking for.”

The two friends went back to studying while pretending to be ordinary students without an ounce of drama in their lives. The rustling of the papers and the scribbling of the pens were the only sound coming from their table.

Moments later, Aloe could feel Peter’s stare. Peter was fidgeting in his seat.

“Nope, not a good idea,” Aloe mentioned offhandedly, continuously writing on his notebook.

“But I haven’t even said anything yet!” Peter exclaimed.

“I just felt like saying it, besides, all of your ideas are stupid by default,” Aloe smirked.

“Hey!” Peter slammed his hand on the table. The other customers shot them nasty looks for the noise. Peter bashfully scratched his blond hair and waved apologetically at them.

Aloe just snickered at his friend.

The next day at the university, the mundane academic life consumed its occupants. Students and professors alike wandering about, ready to face the day filled with lessons.

Aloe walked briskly towards his classroom, noting that he was already late but it didn’t matter. The professor was late as always. Black eyes silently scanned the room as he observed his classmates and hated himself for it. His classmates often steered clear of him, perhaps because he was too frank. Either way he didn’t care.

Aloe proceeded to walk to the back of the classroom where he found Peter chatting with their other classmates.

“Good morning!” Peter greeted with enthusiasm, his hands frantically waving in the air. Aloe could only shake his head at his friend’s antics. “Tone down the brightness, and stop shitting rainbows please.”

“Somebody is cranky. Forgot your meds today?” Peter teased while waiting for Aloe to finish setting his things down on the table. Loud laughter distracted the two males, both of them turned their heads at the boisterous sounds coming from their classmates from the front. Amidst the cheerful banter, a person stood out from the crowd.

“Hey Tansy, you look sick, are you ok?” One of their classmates asked with concern in his voice, Aloe recognized the male as the one he saw in the cafe.

“Yeah,” Tansy she blandly replied at her classmates as she tucked her red hair behind her ears. There were dark circles around her green eyes.

Aloe took a deep breath and turned his head away from the scene. He was getting exhausted so easily nowadays. He blinked rapidly when he noticed two hands waving in front of him.

“Hello, earth to Aloe. Hi. Hello. Hey that rhymes,” Peter joked jovially, his blue eyes looking at Aloe. Before he could reply, the door opened which caused the noise to die down, and all the students simultaneously stood up.

The professor walked in, heels clacking against the floor.

She stopped in front of the teacher’s table and placed her bag on the table. She waved her right hand gracefully.  The students sat down and waited for their imminent fate.

“Good morning,” she greeted the class, “So, let’s begin with the next topic,”

She retrieved a bundle of yellow cards in her bag. Eyes carefully followed her hands as she shuffled them.

There was tension in the room. Most of the people anticipating on who would be called. Aloe observed with indifference. Before the professor could call out the name on the card she finally picked, Aloe elbowed Peter.

Blue eyes glared at Aloe for his actions. “What–“

“Peter,” the professor called out. Stunned, Peter slowly stood up from his seat. “Yes ma’am?”

The long time battle between the students and professor began. Almost all of them sincerely praying they be spared for the day. Hours felt like years for the students, waiting for the clock to turn faster.

Chris, one of the active members of their class, was called next for recitation. He stood confidently, his brown eyes stared bravely at his professor as he answered fluidly.

“Good job Chrysanthemum,” their professor, knowing that Chris disliked his full name, teased him.

“Thanks ma’am,” Chris scratched the back his brown cropped hair, a sign of his awkwardness.

Unfortunately for Tansy, she was the next one chosen to parry the questions of their professor. Aloe took note of Tansy’s fidgeting form as she sat in front near the teacher’s table.

“Ma’am, a-according to article 19, uhm,“ She stuttered as her hands were flipping her notes rapidly. She kept on going though, despite her apparent desire to stop. The glaring difference between Chris’s performance and Tansy’ own performance made it worse for her.

“Tansy, please sit down,” Tansy could only nod meekly and sit slowly in her seat.

Aloe furtively glanced around the room, and clenched his hands when one of his classmates whispered to one another. “It’s none of my business, none,” Aloe convinced himself.

Class was almost over to the relief of the people. Aloe was already arranging his things before the bell rang.

“I’ll see you next meeting,” their professor announced, gathering the class cards in her hands. “Tansy, please see me in my office,” she said gently to the girl who was slightly shaking. She walked out of the room as the students fixed their things to go home.

Within minutes, the room was almost empty leaving only Aloe, Peter, and a handful of students. The pair that Aloe previously saw in the café were talking loudly near the exit of the room. They were subtly looking at Tansy who was sitting alone dejectedly in her chair.  Aloe rolled his eyes, he was sick of seeing and hearing them everywhere.

“Worrying does nothing, why don’t you try to give a helpful advice instead of just, “describing the situation” according to your terms,” Aloe casually directed at the short-haired girl as he walked outside the door, looking at them at the corner of his black eyes. He left his classmates dumbfounded and confused.

“What was that about?” Peter asked Aloe. Peter looked back at his classmates who were suddenly quiet and staring at Aloe with trepidation, while the cause of their unease was just sauntering away and unfazed by what just happened.

“Nothing. Just pointing out inconsistencies,” Aloe shrugged.

“Uh, didn’t you just do the same? Giving useless advice?” Peter poked Aloe.

“I’m pained that you call my advice useless,” Aloe placed a hand on his heart in faux hurt.

“Well, it was unsolicited,” Peter remarked, he was getting used to Aloe’s strangeness. Aloe snorted and just continued walking while Peter cheerfully followed.

Left alone in their room was the red-haired girl.

Tansy stared blankly into space, her red bangs partially covering her green eyes. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The ringing in her ears still haven’t subsided.

She sluggishly fixed her things, and prepared to go to her professor’s room. She checked her phone. She read a message from her brother which made her grimace. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes.

She stepped out to the corridor and slowly walked towards the room of her professor. She hesitated when she arrived at the door with the sign of her professor’s name. She was about to knock when the door suddenly opened.

“Oh, Tansy, come in,” the kind professor ushered her in. “Please, sit.”

Tansy did what she was told, and sat on the chair in front of her professor’s desk while placing her bag beside her on the floor.

“Tansy, I’m sorry to say this, but you’re not doing well in my class right now,” her professor gently told Tansy, she was looking at Tansy’s class card. “I also noticed you’re failing in your other classes.”

The young girl stayed quiet, and refused to make eye contact.

“You have to keep your grades up if you want to stay in this college,” her professor appraised the student in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tansy politely answered, her hands clasped together, laying on her lap.

“Do you have any problems understanding the lesson? Problems at home?” Her professor prodded.

Tansy fiddled with her hands harder at the mention of home. She answered in the negative to all her professor’s questions. Tansy glanced at her professor.

“I’ll do my best, I’m just,” Tansy’s voice broke as she struggled to find the words to express herself. “I’ll do my best,” she repeated weakly.

“Tansy, if you have any problems, please don’t be shy and just approach me.”

Tansy nodded, and stiffly stood up. “Thank you ma’am,” She bowed and bid farewell to her professor while picking up her bag. Her green eyes were glossy.

She hurriedly walked out of the stifling room and almost ran into the restroom. Luckily, there was nobody else in the place. She locked the door. She tried to control her breathing. Her ears were ringing and her chest hurt badly from the rapid beating of her heart.

She covered her mouth as she stifled her sobs. Her whole body was shaking violently.

“I want to die, but I can’t,” Tansy miserably whispered to herself. “How pathetic is that,”

Moments have passed before her breathing gradually slowed down. She finally breathed in deeply and calmed herself. She wiped her tears away and walked out of the cubicle. Green eyes glared at the girl in front of the mirror. After habitually washing her hands, she strode out of the restroom.

Surprised, she took a few steps back when she saw Aloe standing alone in the middle of the corridor, his black eyes looking at her intensely, as if waiting for her.

Embarrassment flooding her at being caught in an uncomfortable situation, Tansy tried to pretend she didn’t see him and walked away until Aloe was behind her.

“She genuinely cares for her students,” Aloe said mildly,

Tansy stopped, but she didn’t turn to face Aloe.

“You should accept help when it’s offered,” Aloe’s voiced out his thoughts. Tansy could feel her heart pick up its pace again when Aloe’s words were too close to her secret.

She ignored Aloe, then continued to walk away. She was about to exit the building when she saw Chris.

Chris waved at her which she politely returned. She was blinded by Chris’ questionable friendliness that it somehow irked her. Chris approached her and started to make small talk.

“You did well in class,” Chris carelessly said to her.

“It sucked,” Tansy retorted, annoyed that Chris could blatantly lie to her face in attempts of comforting her.

“Stop fishing for complements Chris,” Green eyes glared at brown eyes.

Chris only laughed, and ruffled his brown hair. “Sorry, my bad, but I do think that you did ok if not good,”

“Yeah, whatever, bye,” Tansy dismissed Chris and walked down the front staircase of the building and into the road.

Chris watched the sunset for a few minutes. His surrounding were bathed in red-orange light. Chris exhaled loudly. He was about to leave when he heard someone call out to him. “Chris!”

He turned and saw Aloe waving at him where Tansy previously stood. Chris beamed and returned the gesture. He went towards the parking lot. He opened his car and drove home.

Chris arrived at his house, all was silent except for the dull noise coming for the television which was tuned to the news station.

“I’m home,” Chris called out. Nobody answered. He went straight to his room and changed his clothes.

He got his books and laid them on his study table cluttered with pens and highlighters of different colors. He read for a while before suddenly throwing his book in frustration.

He decided to sleep when he couldn’t understand anything anymore. He closed the lights and let the darkness cover him.

He laid down on his bed. He stared blankly at his ceiling that was covered with glow-in-the-dark stickers. Sleep wouldn’t come to him as he tossed and turned in his bed. He watched the darkness slowly turn into light. Chris closed his eyes, only to be disturbed by his alarm clock.

When morning came, Chris ate breakfast with his family, his older brother absent because he was abroad participating in a contest.

Chris sat in silence, before clearing his throat. “I got a high score yesterday in our quiz, and my recitation was also good,” Chris proudly reported to his parents.

“I should hope so. Your older brother got a perfect grade in his class,” Chris’ father disinterestedly said while flipping the newspaper he was holding. A half-eaten toast and a steaming mug of coffee sat near his dad.

Chris’s smile almost fell. He just took a sip from his orange juice and averted his gaze.

His mom suddenly placed a plate with freshly cooked eggs in front of him. “Good job Chris!” she hugged her son.

She leaned and whispered into his ears, “Don’t mind your father, he’s just cranky today.”

Chris blinked and smiled genuinely at her. Chris played with the food in front of him. His appetite almost non-existent at that time. His mother nudged him on the head, a warning for him to eat breakfast.

“Well, I’m off to work,” his dad coldly announced and stood up from the dining table.

“Bye dear, take care,” Chris’ mom kissed the father on his cheeks. Chris only looked at his father exiting the dining room.

“Chrysanthemum, do you know what your name means?” His mom asked out of the blue.

Chris only chewed his eggs and shook his head no.

“I know it’s a girly name, but you have to be proud of it,” Her tone was wistful. “Your name means cheerfulness and good spirit, we were so happy when you were born in this world”

Chris snorted, and almost choked on his food. His mother slapped him on his back.

“Your father loves you too, you know, he just has a different way of showing it,”

Chris looked away from his mom. “Oh look at the time, I’m late, gotta go now.” Chris abruptly stood up similar to the way his dad exited.

Chris arrived at school, and was immediately bombarded by some of his classmates when he got to the room.

“Yo! I heard your brother won the competition, you guys are so amazing,” Peter greeted Chris.

Chris stilled slightly but he immediately grinned and accepted the greetings from them. “It’s in the genes man, it’s in the genes,” Chris exclaimed

“You mean your pants? Where can I buy one?” Peter joked.

“Shut up,” Peter was punched on the arm by Aloe.

“Ignore him Chris, he got high on coffee again,” Aloe said sarcastically, placing Peter’s head in a headlock.

“What, I’m not!” Peter struggled to get out of Aloe’s hold.

The banter among his friends went on, while Chris became subdued, and almost nobody noticed it. Aloe witnessed the change in Chris’s mood. Aloe opened his mouth, hesitating to say something, but he didn’t proceed.

Aloe merely placed a hand on Chris’ shoulder. Chris nodded and his lips slightly tilted upwards at the corner.

Classes began once again, and nothing much changed.

Months after Tansy was called out by their professor, the semester was almost over, with only two weeks remaining before final examinations.

Everyone collectively breathed out when the professor announced that they were finished with the whole subject. They were glad that the day was finally over. Students broke off into groups, each one planning on how to de-stress after a long week. Almost half of the class was gone.

“Hey! Chris! We’re hanging out tonight, wanna come?”

“Nah, sorry I’m busy, I have to do something,” Chris smiled at his friends while walking past them.

“Oh come on! It’s a Friday!” One of his friends shouted at his retreating back. Chris merely raised his right hand without looking at them.

“I’ll just see you guys later,”

Aloe almost faltered in his steps. His heart was beating faster inside his chest. He started to go towards Chris when he was stopped by Peter. “Where are you going?”

Aloe stood motionless, staring at the direction where Chris went. “I’m not so sure.”

“Well, let’s go then,” Peter tugged Aloe’s shirt. “I want to watch a movie,”

“Okay,” Aloe hesitantly agreed, his gaze never left Chris. Peter noticed Aloe’s fixation and grabbed the latter’s shoulders to turn him in the other direction.

“Don’t worry about Chris, he’s probably just going to study. Such a nerd.” Peter jested, he tried to alleviate Aloe’s concern.

It was Monday again. Aloe entered the room and immediately looked for his brown-haired classmate. He began to worry when he noticed Chris was not there.

“That’s strange, Chris is late today?” Peter turned his head, trying to look for their classmate.

“I hope so,” Aloe muttered. He fixed

“He’s usually so early, I needed to ask him something,” Peter moaned with disappointed.

Chris didn’t attend class that day. The next day, Chris was absent again.

“Maybe he’s sick?” Peter mused. The color from Aloe’s face withdrew and he closed his eyes as he struggled to remain calm.

A week has passed before they learned of Chris’ whereabouts. The news was announced after their class.

“Class, Chris is at the hospital right now, if you want to visit him I can give you the hospital where he is staying at,”

Aloe froze in his seat. He tried to block out the words that the professors were saying. The voices in his head got louder and harder to ignore.

“Holy cow. Did you guys hear? I think he tried to kill himself,” one of their classmates whispered.

“Wasn’t it an accident? Somebody said that he bought the wrong medicine,” the person said in a confused voice.

“Poor guy, never expected him to do it,” a boy said while shaking his head.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it! Chris?”

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk about him like that,” Peter intervened and tried to quell the rumors. “We only know he is in the hospital, we should pay respect.”

“Yeah, but we’re all just surprised. Aren’t you?”

“I am, he was a happy and energetic guy, and I know he would never try to kill himself,” Peter stated with conviction.

Aloe turned his head to Peter, who was proudly proclaiming how much he knew Chris when he was so ignorant of what truly happened. Aloe felt something dark crawl into his heart. He didn’t know where Peter got his ideas. He didn’t see it coming.

“He was just weak. That’s the plain truth. Weak or stupid,” Tansy brazenly spoke. Everyone in the vicinity who hear cringed and looked away from Tansy.

“Tansy, you’re not supposed to say something bad about people,” Peter gently reminded her. Aloe clenched his fist.

“Guess we better plan something for him,”

Aloe gritted his teeth, his feelings were a mess. He could have done something. He should have done something. He never felt so helpless and betrayed before. He angrily picked up his bag and walked out. Peter followed him outside the room.

“Hey, Aloe, are you okay?” Peter asked, worry tinged his voice, as he placed a hand on Aloe’s shoulder.

“Am I?” Aloe mockingly asked. He shrugged Peter’s hand off his person.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” Peter defensively answered.

Aloe finally snapped. “Why are you people like that?”

“Like what?” Peter asked incredulously.

“You people are so fake!” Aloe fished a pen from his pockets. “See this pen? You’re all like this. PLASTIC.” Aloe threw the pen at Peter’s chest.

Peter could only stare at Aloe in astonishment. Before Aloe could stop himself, the dam of resentment burst out, and dark words flowed from his mouth, uncaring of the audience they suddenly had.

“Of all the people. I thought you would understand. You act so nicely. I thought you were decent,” Aloe said, his voice so deep that Peter almost didn’t hear him. “I thought you were genuine.”

“I thought you were real,” Peter didn’t move or say a word. “I expected better from you.”

“How could you think that Chris was weak?! You don’t know what’s going on with him! You don’t know him!”

“Why? Why are you people like this?” Aloe begged him to answer. The air was heavy with pressure.

“Oh stop being so melodramatic,” Peter uncharacteristically deadpanned, finally having the courage to answer Aloe.

“What?”

“I said stop it. You act so high and mighty. You can’t ask for something, you can’t give.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“You ask for something genuine. You’re not,” Peter continued. “I’m sorry, but I know you’re not.”

Aloe stood motionless as a statue. Everything in his world was slowly being turned upside down. His feelings of guilt, betrayal, hurt, and resentment festered deep inside him. His friend just called him a hypocrite without any basis.

“I could notice you judging us, acting as if you’re above us. You’re not,” Peter laughed harshly. “You can’t read minds Aloe, you can’t,”

“Stop. You act like we hurt you,” Peter pointed at him. “No, you hurt yourself,”

Aloe was staring down at Peter before both of them even realized it. Peter gingerly held his face with his left hand, his glasses lying on the floor. Peter’s blue eyes widened in shock. Aloe towered over him with this right hand clenched in a fist and bruised.

“You know nothing,” Aloe hissed.

Aloe then looked at the eye of each and every one of them who were watching their fight. He stared at them coldly, his black eyes glittering.

“Chris wasn’t weak. Chris wasn’t happy,” His voice cracked. “You were all just trapped in your own little words like selfish bastards that you are. We all were.”

“And now you think it’s a fucking burden to even visit him in the hospital, I don’t blame you though, you all have your priorities.”

The crowd shivered from the insult in Aloe’s words. They were dispersed when one of the professors arrived at the scene. “Aloe, Peter. Please follow me to the Dean’s office.”

Peter stood up and dusted his clothes. Aloe had finally calmed down. He was suddenly aloof and indifferent. The two of them followed the professor to their impending doom.

“People like you disgust me,” Aloe said coolly to Peter while they were walking. “People who think that it’s wrong to say the truth out loud.”

Peter turned pale, finally realizing that Aloe seems to know more than the ordinary person. The two of them walked soundlessly towards the Dean’s office.

“Sit down, wait for the dean. She is currently in a meeting,” the professor said brusquely.  Aloe and Peter sat in front of a table filled with papers and calendar. “No fighting in this office,” she warned the two students.

Peter looked at Aloe who was sitting placidly, all of his anger seemingly disappeared.

“Why?” Peter returned the question to Aloe. Weary black eyes looked at Peter. Peter’s blue eyes suddenly averted his gaze.

“Tansy was admiring Chris for his bravery. For doing something she couldn’t do,” Aloe said softly, he fiddled with his fingers. “Did you know? Yet she thinks he’s stupid for failing. Ask her. She’ll tell you. She won’t lie about it.”

Peter sighed and hunched over. He placed his head in his two hands. He ignored the pain that he could feel on his left cheeks.

Things were getting out in the open. Aloe continued and ignored Peter’s distress at his revelations.

“You didn’t talk to Chris. I’m not talking about mere small talk. Nobody ever thinks of talking to the cheerful guy with the seemingly perfect life.”

“You even thought he was weak for trying to kill himself,” Aloe accused. Peter only shook his head, his blond hair covering his face.

“It’s not my story to tell, but nobody sees. Nobody listens.” Aloe whispered.  “Somebody needs to say it.”

Aloe’s voice started to shake. “I could have stopped him. I knew he planned it. He fucking planned it because he was tired of it. So tired of it. I don’t blame him at all,” Aloe clenched his hands together. “I wanted to stop him but I didn’t.”

Peter looked worriedly at Aloe. “Aloe, Aloe stop, it’s not your fault,”

“I wish the others who are half of a person that he is killed themselves. Why do people like him think they’re the ones that need to disappear?” Aloe could only ask bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sorrowfully said. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier Aloe, I’m sorry,”

“They don’t need pity. I don’t. They need help,” Aloe snapped. “Help that nobody gave, help that I didn’t give because I was too scared,” Aloe ran a hand through his black hair.

“Aloe, it’s okay,” Peter tried to placate his friend.

“All I hear are lies.” Aloe said resignedly. “Sometimes I wish I knew they weren’t lies.”

TBT: Personality and Psychological Disorder

Note: I wrote this in 2014 as a requirement for my Psych101 (Introduction to Psychology) Class. Since it is a Thursday here, it’s throwback Thursday! This is an edited and filtered version. Lol. Also, please support #MHActNow. Looking back, I was such a weird kid. Haha. I still kinda am.

Personality and Psychological Disorder

When we were discussing defense mechanisms by Freud in class, I couldn’t help but think: “Ay weh, ‘yun pala ginagawa ko.” (Oh, That’s what I’m doing right now). I was (and maybe still am) guilty of various types of defense mechanism mentioned by Freud. There was a time when I was so frustrated and with a batch mate of mine. He was a shiftee from an engineering course, and he was so good at numbers and at studying, but I was angry at the fact that he shifted to accounting when I think he should have stayed in his original course because that’s where his skills and talents can be fully utilized, but no, he just had to shift to a course where he’s really not needed because a lot of people are trying to get into that course already. Then I realized that first of all, what he does with his life is really none of my concern, because we’re not even friends and second, I was just projecting my annoyance and frustrations at myself from shifting from economics to accounting because I think I was good at economics. I was so bitter about my choice because I believed that I could have done more if I stayed at my previous course. There are times when I still feel that way (especially since I got removed from accounting), but it’s a lesson that I’m still trying to learn: that we have to move on and make do with what we have and where we are right now.

I am guilty of a lot of other defense mechanisms, but that’s just who I am I guess, an amalgamation of defense mechanisms in order to survive this world.

The criteria of normality are efficient perception of reality, ability to exercise voluntary control over one’s behavior, self-esteem and acceptance, ability to form affectionate relationships and productivity.

I was still able to do all of the five criteria, so I considered myself normal. Sure I sometimes worry over things more than my peers, and sometimes I would stop functioning properly when I agonized over situations (it would only last for a short time), and I do get distressed by a lot of things. I knew I was a bit neurotic since I was a kid. But deep down, I knew that there was nothing wrong with me, I just have a higher standards and a different way of thinking than others. I’d cry, get tired, and rant about things; complain about my lazy group mates and all that but in the end I would still be able to get the results that I want. People would think I had a problem with my self-esteem and self-acceptance, but I was just good at impression management and expectation setting (they wouldn’t expect too much if I told them that I was a bad at something that I already know I can’t do well, would they?). I was proud of myself for being responsible in things that I cared for and I knew how to handle myself. I had control over my actions. Most of all, I was happy with how productive I was no matter what happened, and I was able to make a lot of friends. I created a lot of coping mechanisms for the shortcomings that I knew I had, like planning and doing my school work early because I’m forgetful and I am also bad at cramming things I’m not good at.

The three criteria of abnormal behavior as mentioned in class are deviance, maladaptiveness, and personal distress.

I didn’t fully notice how my behavior went from normal to abnormal because it was gradual. It didn’t just spring on me one day like a nasty flu. I thought I was still normal, because I thought it was just how I am usually. My reactions over simple things became deviant from the social norms (a normal student wouldn’t be cry, get hysterical, and hyperventilate over getting a terror professor for a long time like I did, they’d just rant about their rotten luck and try to move on). I wasn’t able to function effectively anymore. My personal distress reached a new high record. My parents finally decided to have me checked by a doctor (much to my horror, relief, and mostly embarrassment at having to reach that point) who prescribed my some medicines and told me that it wasn’t really my fault (I still have doubts about that), that I have to stop pleasing other people and to be honest with myself. After a few checkups, the doctor deemed that I was “better” but that I “had to be careful”. My self-acceptance and esteem really took a blow since then, because I still couldn’t fully distinguish which part was my personality, and which part of it was just a “disorder”.

Currently, I’m still trying to accept the fact that what I had was something I couldn’t control and that it’s not really my fault, or at least not totally my fault. With my personality, I am predisposed to feel and act in a certain way but that doesn’t mean that it’s not normal and that it would automatically mean I’d behave abnormally. I have a choice to improve myself and get rid of any illness that I may have. It’s not hopeless. It was never hopeless, and people should never give up. One time, we were required to watch a movie for a class, and the movie ended at 8pm. I was stuck waiting at school ‘til 9pm because my parents were only able to fetch me at that time. For an hour, all I could feel was anxiety and fear, and negative thoughts would enter my head (what if somebody attacks me? Hala wala ng tao, isasara na yung building! Papalaysin na ko ni kuya guard huhu) (Oh no, there are no more people around, they’re going to ask me to leave the building), because it was dark and I was all alone except for the guard and the occasional grad students passing by. It struck me at that exact moment that it was what I felt for the whole time last year, and it was not normal to feel that way every day. It’s not normal, should never be normal and nobody should ever feel that way. Psychological disorders may manifest differently from physical disorders, but it doesn’t make it any less threatening or harmful. “It’s just in your mind”, yes, it is, but people must learn when exactly it’s normal and abnormal.

2016: Come back year

Random Ramblings (2016 Edition)

I also call my 2016 the year of the perpetually exhausted pidgeon.

I was happy but tired at the start of the year, because I felt that 2015 has been hard for me but I grew, and I learned a lot from it. I thought about quitting because I wasn’t sure of my path, or rather I was just really tired. I also had to make a decision of retaking an entrance exam I failed in 2015, which is not really a big deal at first but then things happened and ugh, my poor lazy self had to move. I took the exam with intention of just having closure, just to check where I’m really supposed to be. Long story short, I passed! Hooray. I felt happiness and relief. Happy that I passed, and relieved that I’m not as stupid as I thought (but if you think about it, basing intelligence on just an entrance exam is stupid itself, so poor me. Nothing changed. Haha. #ChangeScamming)

Unfortunately, denial is my middle name. I kept on putting off my decision if I would enroll in UP law, and when I finally decided that I would enroll, things happened again. I had to wait for almost three months before I was able to enroll. Three months of existential angst and quarterlife crisis while playing the waiting game, and hide and seek with the school administration who has my requirements. I felt like a tennis ball being volleyed back and forth between different offices. I had to swallow my pride and faith in the system (boo you system, you suck. “I put my faith in you, so much faith in you, but you just threw it away” #Paramore); I asked help from my parents. It was a happy ending anyway, I was able to enroll.

I’m back in UP!!! Oh yeah. My beloved Sunken Garden was right in front me and I was so tempted to logroll, but it was rainy. Meh. I had a lot of space, and the teaching style of the professors was so compatible with my learning style, and I was able to appreciate subjects that I disliked with passion before. It was difficult to socialize with my blockmates (well, people in general), but I survived! #introvertproblems. It was amazing, it all felt surreal, but I also felt like the fishes in Finding Nemo who were able to escape from the aquarium but didn’t think too far so they were stuck in plastic bags. I was stuck. Despite the three months of vacation, I still felt tired, and hence the title of this post. Hahaha. Huhu.

2016 just had to be a meanie, so guess who also returned and said: “I’m back, bish!”. I had to groan and facepalm. It sucks, really really really sucks. I was happy. I was in my dream school. I had space. I was learning  in the way I wanted to learn again. Why did it have to come back? Why me? What did I do wrong? I effin survived 2015, I was literally out of my comfort zone back then, so why only now when I was where I wanted to be? I was stressed and tired, I knew that, but I was also back in my supposed comfort and safety zone. It was everything that I wanted. I had to leave some of my precious friends behind, it was a sacrifice I made. One step forward, two steps back. I felt like I regressed, the progress that I made in 2015 disappeared in 2016, and it hurt, it still hurts.

My motto in 2016 was #noregrets, which I’m happy to say that I somewhat fulfilled; except for the bish that came back, I’m still hating that it returned. I went to a family outing instead of studying, #noregrets. I got sick so I was absent and got my first singko in recit when I returned to school, #noregrets. I overslept, #noregrets. Hahahaha. -_- Kidding, I felt bad afterwards, but there’s no use in regretting. I think my new motto should be #priorities.

I met a lot of new people and friends who are amazing in their own way, but I still remember my friends who I left behind who I still hold close to my heart, and I blame them for setting the standard so high. Hahaha. Even if I felt like I regressed this year, I’m still me, so I think that’s ok.

2016 has been fun despite some major setbacks, like the Marcos burial #NeverAgain #NeverForget; Duterte, and Trump winning the elections, and . . . Nevermind. I think I’ll stop there before I am tempted to erase 2016 from my life, but still please pray for the world. Pray for Aleppo.

I was able to survive 2016 because of my meds, vitamins, anime, cats, friends, family, and of course, Allah (SWT). Here’s to hoping that the people and the world will be better, because it doesn’t matter if 2017 will be better when people are still the same.

Chasing Dreams: Of Desperation and Determination

This is it. Finally.

After submitting all of my requirements and finally enrolling in my dream law school, that was it. Ok. I’m done. I’m happy. Can I stop now? Hahaha. Kidding. Or am I?

I thought I knew what I was getting into when I decided to transfer. I already knew I was going to be pressured and stressed like I have never been before from different people with different expectations from me, mainly because I am technically repeating first year.

What have I done? Made things harder for myself apparently.

I have been called a masochist at best when I told a friend of my decision to transfer and how I expected the people in my college to treat me i.e. bullying, expecting great things from, pressuring me to be an honor student, no excuse for failing, etc. I already knew that. I prepared myself for that mentally. I was ready to tell people to f*** off when they say things like that, internally of course, because I can never say that to their faces unless they really deserve it. I was already programmed to just smile and nod, and say yes while tuning out their voices and finding out ways to escape them without me being strangled or them being punched to the face.

What have I done? I’m running after an idea.

I chased after my dreams. I consciously chose to ignore the thoughts bouncing inside my head about regretting transferring (because my new motto is #noregrets), about quitting while I still can, about staying low profile because I don’t want to dig my own grave anymore. I just want to do my best. That is all that I really want. I want to do my best and I want to be able to help people.

These past few days I just realized that I am tired and frustrated, and it’s annoying. It’s really annoying and debilitating. I had three months of vacation. Why am I still tired? Is it because I suffered from my situation of not knowing whether I will be able to enroll to my dream school or not, or because I was suffering from my doubts of whether I do deserve to be here, or because I am missing my previous school like how I usually do when I go to different places, or because of the pressure and expectations I know I am facing from a lot of people? I tried to recharge this vacation and I am still tired. It’s like trying to charge your phone and wondering why it doesn’t turn on, only to realize you forgot to plug the charger to the outlet.

It’s a combination, but more than that, I am pressured from own self. God, there I was proudly stating that I do not care what others think of me anymore, that I don’t care what their expectations are, I will just do what I want and be thoroughly selfish for the second time in my life. When I was hesitating to transfer because of the pressure that I know I will receive from being known as the younger sister of my siblings, my friend asked me, and I will never forget it, because it struck me to the core: “Are you really sure that’s your reason why you don’t want to transfer? Your siblings?” Yes. Partly, yes, it is unavoidable. Even my siblings think so, innocently remarking how I could never escape their shadows. But right here, right now, I knew this is a battle against myself. I was never trying to escape their shadows, I was trying to escape my own.

I tried, and I am still trying to study, only to end up frustrated that it almost reduced me to tears. Why can’t I read as fast as I did before? How stupid can you get, you’re supposed to know this already! How the hell did I survive last year?! I feel so stupid and disappointed with myself. My new professor told us to not “wallow in self-pity” and move on. Psh. I do not wallow in self-pity. I only wallow in frustration and self-hatred, but don’t worry I’m trying to move on, hence this post.

Perhaps the reason why I survived last year was because I kept on praying: “God, please don’t let me give up, God please no, please, please no, no, please.” My study habits were nothing but mere desperation to hold on to something, to prove something to myself as I have accidentally and intentionally sabotaged myself in the past and I don’t want to do it anymore. I was in a trial phase. I wanted to change, I wanted to grow. My energy last year was so limited (until now), that I just stopped studying whenever I wanted to stop and studied whenever I wanted. I lived on a day to day basis, and I would often enter class regardless of the fact that I studied or not, with my classmates teasing me that I should get a reward for having perfect attendance (except for that time when I got so sick I couldn’t risk infecting other people and I couldn’t move). My mantra was: “Sugod! Kahit butter knife lang ang dala sa giyera, sugod!” “Charge! Even if my only weapon is a butter knife in this war, charge!”

I can’t do that now. I can’t.

I can’t because I know how much this slot cost me, more than anybody. I felt the frustration last year of hearing people quit and drop from my dream school. I know I have no right to judge them, because everybody has their own reason and story. Last year, I felt heartbroken when I learned that my dream school which rejected me called the other applicants to ask them if they still want to study there. They did not choose me. Again. I accepted that fact, that I was undeserving back then, and until I graduate from my dream school I would still deem myself to be undeserving of this opportunity. I tried applying, one last time, just to check, because I just had to know. Why? I don’t know, but I knew I had to. So I finally passed, and things happened which almost prevented me from enrolling. The point is, I know, I truly know how much this opportunity is. I have fought for this relentlessly, sometimes halfheartedly because of my fears but still, I have fought and I am still fighting.

I know I can’t just trudge through this without putting in my all. Now I’ve realized that I wasn’t halfhearted in my attempts last year, I was tired, but I did what I could under those circumstances. I am trying my best right now, and I can’t help but beat myself up because what kind of best is this? F***, you call this best? You’re so much slower than before, this should be just a review for you. You haven’t even finished your required readings, and you’re wasting time trying to write this post. You’re an embarrassment to yourself.

I am even forced to omit certain truths when my classmates ask what I did for a year, I would often reply “gap year”. The sleepless nights, heavy workload, breakdowns and mini-heart attacks were reduced to “gap year”. It’s not that I wanted to hide what others would see as an “advantage”. What “advantage”? You mean the knowledge that if you fail a subject you already learned last year, it’s going to hurt badly? I just wanted to avoid the attention, personal questions and their subsequent reactions which I’m sure will piss me off. But I wanted to answer them honestly, and to tell to their faces that yes, I am a transferee and technically retaking first year. Am I crazy? Yes, I kinda am. But more than that, more than trying to explain to them that I don’t have it “easy because I already know these things”, more than trying to explain to them how hard it is to be scared of the thought of being compared to your stellar siblings and the professors not seeing you for who you are but who your family members are, I just want to say to them, please, please don’t waste this opportunity, please don’t be so arrogant, thinking you are great and smart, believing the brainwashing and indoctrination of the professors telling you about being the “cream of the crop”. That is true, being in UP, there is a presumption of being smart and excellent. But that is also bullshit. Presumptions can be overturned by hard and conclusive evidence. Don’t destroy that presumption. And serve the people. Always remember that. I have met wonderful and brilliant people, and they don’t study in UP. Brilliant people can exist elsewhere. Brilliant people who I believe right now deserves to be here more than them. I am allergic to arrogant people and I dislike them with a passion (which includes myself, maybe this is why my allergy never goes away).

I started to judge the people who said they were in that dream law school because they didn’t want to work, but then I reminded myself that I was like that at first. This is just the start, and I am really trying hard, to give them a chance because it really is just the beginning, so I am keeping an open mind about them, even if I find them annoying sometimes.

So why did I write this? Oh just to rant. Hahaha. And just to remind myself, that this is it. This is really it. Why are you wasting time wallowing in frustrations and exhaustion? Take a break. You already know that fear of failure is very debilitating. Stop being scared. Just stop. Just read, read, read, you’ll get somewhere. You’ve already proved that to yourself. Don’t ruin this opportunity because of overthinking and don’t burn yourself right away. Give yourself time to adjust. You have a sickness. It is not an excuse, it never is, and it never will be, but it is a limitation that you have to overcome.

Make mistakes. Don’t be a perfectionist (too much). It is a school. Grab the chance of learning while making mistakes because in real life it is going to be so much harder.

BALANCE. Find balance. And always pray. Pray pray pray. Please don’t be so arrogant as to believe that you got where you are because of your own. You didn’t. You can’t. And you know that.

This is it, I’m chasing my dreams. It’s only now that it is sinking into me. Really. I wasn’t able to savor that fact because I was too busy blocking my thoughts of “You are so gonna regret this. Girl, you crazy. Stop, look for another thing to do, do you actually deserve to be here? etc.” I wanted to roll in the Sunken Garden and bask in the sunlight, but rainy weather and hello readings.

I am determined to see this through. You don’t have a right to quit. You will only quit when the school kicks you out, but no, never again, you are never gonna give up on your own. God please no. Ya Allah please help me do my best. Please. Please. Please. What I have accomplished last year through sheer desperation, I will finish now with determination.

Ora et Labora. Prayer and hard work. Never forget.

So. Yeah.

Fighting.

Of Privileges and Expectations

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a privilege is a right or benefit that is given to some people and not others while expectation is a belief that something will happen or is likely to happen.

Privilege is seen as a horrible thing right now, which it is. Expectations would lead to disappointment, which is kind of true.

In my opinion, the two goes hand in hand. Having certain privileges entails certain expectations. And I hate both with a vengeance that most people do not know but may have noticed somewhat.

I do know that having a privilege is a blessing. It’s not something that everyone has, that’s the very definition of the word. It is unfair, society tells us. It is truly unfair, for others have to toil while others already have them in the first place. It is unfair when both person almost similar in personality, in effort, in everything except certain situations have to experience different things. Having a privilege means you’re expected to be successful in whatever way you were lucky to be born with. “Oh! You’re a daughter of a businessman? You should already have knowledge of becoming one!”. A ridiculous statement but you can hear this in different conversations, some subtle, some explicit, in different ways of saying.

I am privileged, I knew that since I was a kid, and I disliked it. Why should I have this when others don’t have what I have. Do I even deserve this? I was just a kid lucky enough to be born in a well-off family. I already knew that. I worked hard and tried my best to do what I have to do and that was to be a proper student and an obedient daughter. I tried to apply everything I learned and I took every lesson to heart that most of my friends would tell me I take things too seriously but it was my way of keeping my earn, of trying to help the world and getting rid of that privilege in my own way by doing my job. I would help when asked to help because it was my way of giving back, even if I knew in reality it does something so small it amounts to nothing. I’m idealistic, not naive. At least I tried, is what I would tell myself, to keep from killing a part of myself.

I grew up and entered high school where I somehow learned in an environment without the expectation of doing well because of my name, a privilege. That was a first. No one to expect a single thing from me because I was the first one in my family to enter the high school. It was refreshing and nice. I only had to deal with the privilege of having everything I need to study and live comfortably. Sounds arrogant right? Did I ask to be born this way? Did the others who were born in a different capabilities, different area, different family, different social status, ask to be born that way? Does everybody know the struggles that everyone has to live with? It is often said that Allah (SWT) does not burden a person beyond his capacity.

College happened. The university I went to is the premiere university of the country that I live in. I foolishly thought it was a privilege for me to enter into it, not because of the university’s difficult entrance exam, not because of their excellence, but because of my family’s capability to send me to a good school and training since I was a kid. There were unspoken expectations that went with my privilege. My siblings already went there, how could I not, there must be something wrong with me if I didn’t pass. It is a state university, our education was subsidized by the government. Students and other activist would often protest, education is a right not a privilege. It is a right, but the reality is higher education became a privilege which is unfair to everyone. I tried to ignore and just continued on studying, because I knew not to waste the opportunities given to us. We were expected to give back to the country, and we will someday, and in our own different ways right now.

And then law school happened. Certain privileges and expectations became more glaringly obvious. It was only then I realized how truly blessed I was to enter my undergraduate university when I met different people, who were so amazed by the fact that I went to there. I thought nothing of going there, because it was a privilege I took for granted, and I thought it was only expected of me to go there. Not everyone can afford to go law school, not everyone has the support of the family to pursue such field much like medicine. I knew that, I knew it was selfish of me to chase after it because of my personal reasons but I still did. But not many understand or realize the expectations that came with my decision to push with it, expectations not only from myself, not only from my family but also from the school and from everyone else who knows where I stand.

My dislike turned into hatred and I tried hard not to use what others would deem as a privilege as much as possible, it bolstered my desire for independence, and I hated expectations to the point that I turned to self-sabotage and impression management to prevent anyone from expecting things. Stupid right? How will my not using my privilege be of use to anyone unless I transfer it to them. How will destroying myself help anybody. How can I even disown myself from what I was born with without destroying relationships.

I just did not want anyone saying to me, that I got where I am solely because I am privileged, even if it is true, even if it is undeniable. I did not want anyone saying to me that I did not even try, to stop what I perceived as an injustice, an inequality, because it hurts. I tried, I worked somehow, I did what I could considering whatever issues and illness I have to struggle with that is considered by others as first world problems. I’m idealistic, not naive. I tried to kill the idealistic side, it almost died, but I realized I want to keep it, I’m fighting hard to keep it in this society.

Privilege and expectations take away the sweetness and pureness of hard work, it demotivates people, makes people arrogant, makes people self-absorbed. That is why, I admire honest and hardworking people so much, who did what they have to do properly to get where they are right now.

One day, some day, the system, the society that has perpetrated the toxic inequality and injustice will go down. Nobody will have the excuse of having or not having a privilege, there will only be honest to goodness effort and hard work. No more expectations, only goals.

Until then, there’s only prayer and hard work. Ora et Labora. Because Allah is Mercy, He is also Justice, and He can do things which we cannot do, but we have to do our part.

Contrary to popular belief, I’m idealistic, not naive. Let’s make this work step by step.

Confessions of a girl being haunted

Ever since I was a kid, I have always been followed by the ghosts of my mistakes. They rarely go away. So I made a lot of steps in order to escape them.

I would try to get rid of them first, by saying sorry, by identifying what I did wrong, by promising I won’t do it again. I’ll be better, I promise, just stop bothering me please, just stop whispering in my heart.

I would then try my best to avoid them. I’m not a perfectionist merely for the sake of being one. Making no mistakes means there’s no new ghost to haunt you.

I would also avoid activities that make them appear, like being a burden, asking help from people, failing subjects, disappointing people,  hurting people, getting things that I want, being selfish, disturbing others. Every activity that I need to do is scrutinized, on whether or not I will be chased by guilt after I do this or that, whether or not I could handle the ghost that would appear. Sometimes I’d realize that they appear with people. So yes my aversion to people might be contributed to the things that are haunting me.

Most of the time I would and could just ignore them, because denial is the name of the game for survival, and I would go on my merry way while pretending there is nothing whispering in my ears that I don’t deserve anything, don’t deserve to live, that the world is practically better off without me existing, that I’m too much of a burden, do something about it.

I can convince them into keeping quiet by praying. Other times, I also have a baseball bat ready, because I beat up the metaphorical ghosts to shut them up because I can’t think. It’s crowding my mind, hush I’ll handle you after all these things. Which is maybe why it irks me when an outsider tries to correct me, even though I know they only have good intentions, and even if it is for my own good, because it’s harder to convince them, and I can’t beat them until they shut up unlike the ghosts always staying beside me, residing in me. It takes too much energy when you’re already fighting something inside, so I’ll just nod blankly and say yes, yes I know. The voice inside my head already told me so, please tell me something I don’t know.

So when I was given a chance to chase after another dream, the ghost I aptly called accounting (I confess to killing that dream because I couldn’t, wouldn’t let anyone take it away from me, only I can take it. Bwahahaha. No. Seriously. I did kill it voluntarily). It almost fooled me into killing another one. But I told myself no, no more ghosts, no more dream killing. Stop bothering me.

Unfortunately when I decided to chase after the new dream, a new ghost appeared and started whispering things like I am such a burden to everyone around me, how weak I am that I had to ask help from other people to get what I want, how stupid I was to not prepare beforehand when I already knew what I needed, what should have been done, how useless that I don’t have my own income to support myself, questioning me whether it’s all worth it, whether I am worth it.

With my trusty bat and skills in denial, such ghosts will have to be ignored until they go away and/or are exorcised. So pardon me if I seem spaced out or loopy, it would be just one of my ghosts bothering me.

I’m fine even if I’m kinda not fine inside. I’ll be fine as always. Nobody can see what’s inside anyway, except maybe for those who have x-ray vision.

Before anyone calls an exorcist or a psychologist out of concern for my well-being, please don’t worry. God already has me. There is no power nor might except Allah. 🙂

 

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Clumsy

I thought I’d try writing short stories again. So I did. Plus I wanted to let things out.

“I trip. But I always get up. I don’t understand why people think tripping is a big deal. Unless you trip down a flight of stairs and end up in a hospital, that’s another matter. I would trip from time to time, because I’m only human, a clumsy one but I’m human. Normal people trip right? It just so happens that I fall too often, but I always get up. I always try to get up. I may lie down for a moments, just to get my bearing, but I always get up,” said a girl with a short hair who was lying down on the grass on her back.

“You’ve been lying there for more than thirty minutes,” a boy replied while rummaging around his bag looking for something. “You have to get up sooner or later.”

“I’m just feeling the grass, plus I’m just tired, I thought I could take a lil nap. Is there something wrong with that?” she haughtily said while using her arm to cover her eyes from the glaring sunlight. “And don’t you remember the time I fell in front of the class because of stupid gravity, I got back right up.”

“. . . .” the boy was speechless, not knowing what to say to her or how to even react at her seemingly pointless statements and unusual actions.

“What. I have the right to enjoy the greenery. Plus I was the one who tripped and scraped my knees. Not you,” said the girl, not moving an inch from her position.

“Get up, your knees are bleeding,” the boy offered the girl a hand which she hesitantly took. “Come on, up you go,” he pulled the girl up easily and the girl stood.

“Yeah yeah, but I told you, I always get up, I’ve been doing it on my own all this time,” the girl happily exclaimed as she dusted her clothes.

“Hmm, right. Here. Clean those wounds,” the boy offered the girl a first-aid kit, he was oblivious to the growing turmoil inside the girl.

“Why won’t you understand?” the girl suddenly whispered to herself, not taking the offered object from the boy’s hand.

“I always get up, no matter how many times I fall, no matter how much I just wanted to stay there. I always get up.” the girl repeated out loud, as if to prove to herself and to everybody else something which only she knows.

“We’ve established that, yes. You just tripped and got up again, which is what people do when they fall. So what’s the big deal?”

“It’s not just. . .you. . ” the girl spluttered and realized it was another lost cause. The girl took a deep breath.

“You know what, it’s nothing. Overthinking and things. I’m sorry for acting strange. I’m fine,” she said with a big smile, taking the first-aid kit from his hands with her own shaky ones, both of them noticing it but neither acknowledged. “Thanks.”