Everything is meaningless


But there is such beauty in the world, they say.

I don’t know, man, everything is meaningless.

I hear your sentiments. I hear your pleas. I hear your explanations.

Try harder for yourself.

Get out of the house.

Go to school.

Push yourself.

There are people who care.

I know some meant those words. But the meaning don’t reach me. I want them to reach me. I wish I could get out of the darkness that is drowning me. Darkness so thick no light can pass through it. I wish the thoughts and sentiments can reach me.

But everything is meaningless.

Inside this womb of loneliness, I am aware that I do not have monopoly in pain and suffering, but I couldn’t put it past me to consider that. I know others are suffering more out there and finding reasons to push through, but in my darkness, I am a puppet whose strings have all broken. My spirit is broken and I no longer want to be part of this world.

There are people who love you. People who care. People who’ll be miserable facing a world without you.

I know. The same people who will be able to move on with their lives and maybe not forget about me, but find new meaningful relationships with others. They’ll be able to get over the grief. Their worlds will go on turning. With or without me.

But ny world has stopped spinning on its axis in this shell of emptiness. I am so spent that days and nights pass by equally with no purpose nor sense. Everyday is just another day of trying to keep existing because people said it will be worth it. But I have stopped living. Mainly because I no longer want to be alive.

All I see around me are empty promises and lies, brokenness and fear, inequality and shame, failure, failure, all of my failures have caught up to me, haunting me. I am a waste of space and resources. I have only brought burden and disappointment. I am never enough and never gonna make it. If I am already broken this early, how am I to survive in the next few years? In a world full of competition and heartless people and cruelty, how can a broken spirit live?

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger but I am already dead inside.

I don’t wanna fight anymore. And I don’t want to burden others with fighting for me.

Am I brave enough to say goodbye?


Today’s shenanigans

Today, I went to UST (University of Santo Tomas). I took my first step to actual survival, and decided to finally go see a psychiatrist. I have been having thoughts of suicide for more than a year now, and lately it has been getting worse to the point of tying me down in bed and actually pushing me so close to the edge. So I went to UST for a cheaper consultation fee. Unfortunately, there weren’t any doctors today. But there will be some available tomorrow so I will go back.

Dan went with me today. He has constantly been encouraging me and reminding me that there is more to expect in this life, and offered to come with me to see a psychiatrist.

So it was a fun day even tho my agenda wasn’t actually met yet. It was a novelty for us for one important reason: we commuted. On our way to UST, we kinda cheated by taking an Uber, but the banter we had made the traffic worth it. Even the Uber driver had fun with our weirdness. We passed by Dan’s old house which is now a commercial building, and I let him reminisce of the good ol’ days.

We went to Robinson’s Magnolia after going to UST. We walked, rode a tricycle to LRT Legarda Station, took the train. We ate and window shopped, shared stories and fooled around. We visited several stores and pretended to shop for furnitures and guitars.

After that we went to SM Centerpoint via jeep, to revisit a mall that has been a huge part of our separate high school lives. There we were supposed to buy Zagu and have a studio photo taken in Photoline but we didn’t find Zagu, and we felt awkward getting our “jeje” photos in the studio. Instead we left our faces on several devices in the Apple store there. So we walked around SM Centerpoint and decided to go up the cinema. There is a karaoke hub there were we sang weird songs for an hour. Afterwards we decided we should start heading home. But we stopped by this bookstore that sells cheap pre-loved books. We decided to buy a book each from the buy one take one shelf. It will be like a blind date for books. We judged the books by their titles and purchased them.

Then we went home via train again. There we talked about how our different worlds collide in that same train and I encouraged him to write a song about it.

When the train ride ended we parted ways. He told me he hasn’t been legitimately happy in a very long while. So have I. Tho I had some reservations like how he was texting her while we were having quality time.

It was an overall happy day. I hope I can cling to this happy feeling. I can already feel the cloud hanging over my head.

He left his watch with me. Told me “now you have my time.”

Just Keep Swimming

This semester of A.Y. 2017-2018 has been rough for me. I experienced how to be spent emotionally, mentally, socially and financially for almost the whole semester and I thought I would never make it.

My phone fell and the screen cracked on the first day of the semester. My P.E. shoes broke and I couldn’t afford to buy a new one so I had to let go of my P.E. class. My laptop was broken as well so I had to borrow laptop from my friend, or sleepover their house so I can use their PC or laptop for my paperworks. I had to do my thesis on my phone with a cracked screen because hey, I need to get through this semester.

I was on the verge of a breakdown almost everyday, tired and worried and stressed out both due to academic and financial reasons.

Nothing in my life was stable. My friends were often busy, and I felt like I have become a nuissance because I had to borrow a laptop for paper works, or money if I ran out. My allowance would often come late because my mom’s salary would often be late. I was in a relationship where I have to pretend we are just friends in front of the people who matter. The thought of my mom losing her job was always hanging like a storm cloud over my head and I do not know what tomorrow will bring.

I would often have bad headaches due to lack of sleep and overthinking.

I wanted to give up.

It came to a point where I thought I was failing even when my scores are alright. I had more absences than I would have wanted because I am either sick, woke up late, got caught in traffic, or trying to catch up with the requirements from other subjects.

I would often be sad or cranky, or annoyingly very bubbly and I know that behind my hysterical laughter is a breakdown in the making.

It came to a point where I wanted something stable to hold on to, so I broke up with my “boyfriend” and asked him to be just friends. Something concrete and stable.

There were a lot of days I contemplated suicide. In between looking for possible part time jobs and considering stopping a year in school to help my mom with finances, I was contemplating just giving up. Walk in front of a truck or jump off a bridge or something.

I was spent body and soul and spirit I just wanted it all to stop.

I was drowning. But I kept on swimming.

And now I am one final written exam away from conquering this semester.

So just keep swimming.

When you try your best but you don’t succeed…

Today, our midterm grades were released in Research Methodology and I/O Psychology subjects. The passing [transmuted] grade for major subjects such as those mentioned is 76. I got a 74.

And I could make excuses for myself such as summer classes use a different grading system than classes taken in the regular semesters, or I was high on antibiotics and suffering from acute pharyngitis during the major exams so I naturally got lower scores, or its okay there is still the finals, but that does not change the fact that I failed in a standardized-slash-objective evaluation of academic performance.

Does that make me a dunce? Probably not. Does it make me feel like crap? Definitely.

The fact that doing well regularly on a daily classroom discussion, actively participating when I am so afraid of speaking, and doing everything in my power to get decently high scores in quizzes are not enough to earn me a passing grade is simply devastating.

I always hear people talking about how the educational system in the Philippines doesn’t cater to the different, the creatives, and the “I need some time to process these information” type, but I never felt it in its full impact the way I did today.

I’ve always been good at being standardized. People often say I am intelligent when in fact, all I did was memorize a bunch of stuff that I will probably forget about in a month. So when I am in a situation where memorization is out of the question (disoriented from a sickness and the drugs prescribed for the cure), I obviously fail at it. And I hated it.

I hated the feeling I got while reading the questions in the test, knowing I read it somewhere in my notes, or remembered my professor mention something about it in class, but I can’t remember the term so I couldn’t give a proper answer. I hated knowing that if I wasn’t sick at that time I would have probably shined and even got an 86 or something.

Sadly, the grading system does not consider “Effort” as an objective criteria. There are no grades, no incentives or recognition for trying hard.

I realized that the educational system of the Philippines is designed for shaping and honing manufacturers. Blend in, do what society dictates is right and pleasing, do a good job and you will be considered a success. Here, there is no room for innovation and ingenuity. That is why most Filipino inventors sell their inventions to foreigners and those foreigners get the patent for it.

Here no one praises you for trying. Your value is dictated by the worth of the goods you produce. Your efforts do not matter, what’s important is the quality of your output. If you are slow in getting things done, you are already a failure and a nuissance.

Average is success in this country. If you go above the norm you are seen as a threat and people will try to pull you down. If you go below the norm, you will be de-valued and ridiculed for your incompetency.

Psychology should be about acknowledging the uniqueness of every human being, but psychologists are measured and trained to measure with a one-size-fits-all instrument.

The irony of things. We aim to measure the differences between our clients but we are gauged based on the distance of our deviation from the norm. We strive for culture-fair tests and fail miserably at considering that maybe, just maybe, standardization is not the key.

Constructivists argue that reality is subjective to each individual. What might be true for you might not be true for me.

Dearest standardized education, you might think that only those who get a certain score are qualified to pass. But we are all students learning at different paces and styles. Please do not normalize the curve. Surely there is a better way of evaluating a person’s achievement than stardized tests.

Then again, maybe I am just bitter about my grades.

Of early mornings and midnights [and trying to be productive in between]

I enrolled in advanced summer classes last month to catch up on units since I am way past my supposed graduation date.

So, I am taking up three major subjects that I am required to finish in 6-7 weeks and the requirements for finals are a bit overwhelming: a thesis title proposal and defense, a seminar organized by us, and administering psychological tests and writing a psychological report on the client.

But all that seems small to the overwhelming fact that for five days a week, for the next six or seven weeks, I will have to wake up REALLY EARLY. Like 5 o’clock in the morning early. I am not a morning person–at least not anymore since I started binge-watching series and anime on a daily basis.

Every Monday I will wake up fairly well rested, but come Wednesday, I am cursing the world. Thursdays, I am just running on fumes, and Fridays are “I am literally just zoning out” days.

I have read a lot of blogs and articles online about “how to adjust your sleep cycle to be a healthy and not grouchy morning person” or “the secrets of a good sleep hygiene” or anything along those lines. I have followed tips and advice from several friends. My sleeping habits were so bad, the school doctor actually prescribed some sleeping pills for me.

None of them worked. It is hard when your responsibilities are demanding so early in the morning and your passions are so enticing so late at night. If you are a student with an 8 A.M. class and a band manager with a 9 P.M. gig, and a young adult living alone with laundry to do and dishes to wash, how do you maximize your productivity?

Most people will tell me, just let go of the band scene. It is taking too much precious time from your responsibilities and rest. Others will tell me, “If you are making enough money on the band scene, why not quit school?” These two groups of people, while meaning well and good, simply do not understand.

I need to study hard and graduate and to do that I need to be a good student who goes to class no matter how early or late it is. And besides, I finally found a course that I actually enjoy and love that I don’t mind the pressures it bring, nor the paperworks and mountain load of assignments.

But I also need to be in touch with my artistic side. I can not let go of the music scene, or the spoken word poetry scene whenever I can. It is a part of who I am.

And doing the laundry, cleaning the house, washing the dishes, etc. etc., they are necessary for my health and well-being.

So how do I juggle all this?

Simple. I don’t have gigs everyday, so on nights I am free, I can insert some leisure and study time as well as cleaning time. I can sleep earlier on those days. The weekends are spent for doing the laundry, going out with friends, doing some more studying or cleaning, and definitely some well-deserved rest.

I have survived three weeks of trying to discipline myself into being a morning person now. And while it is hard, especially the past few days since I am sick (Acute Pharyngitis or something like that), and there is literally a major exam tomorrow I haven’t studied for yet (again, resting–you know, sick person), I think I am doing a pretty decent job of keeping my life-work-craft balance in check.

Although every now and then I fall off the wagon by sleeping way too late like 3 A.M. watching Detective Conan. 😂

This is why I am a Sleepless PsychiARTIST.

Why start [yet another] blog?

I’m just some 20-something, BS Psychology student currently studying for a midterm exam in two days. Currently sick in bed and trying to get by reviewing-slash-rewriting notes.

Why suddenly sign-up for a wordpress blog?

Well first, I’ve been meaning to do so for quite a while now. I just have no clue what to make my blog about. Others dedicate a blog for specific purposes: food, travel, business, music, etc. which I never got the hang of. You know, sticking to one theme and writing about it.

My mind is always an organized mess–a corner dedicated for a certain topic, but always randomly arranged.

Second, I have always dreamt of being a writer. And I can’t be a writer without writing, right?

Third, I need an electronic space to gather my scattered thoughts and try to make sense of it all. I am sick of playing tug-of-war with my nonexistent organizing skills trying to keep track of all my notebooks, journals, diaries, so I am dumping it all in one site, and just tagging them according to their topic (hopefully I remember to tag this time).

Finally, I need breathing space. Since we live in a world where asking your friends a question will get you a “Google it” reply, because humans are too lazy to listen and Siri is the only one you can talk to and will try to make sense of what you are saying when she doesn’t understand, I often find myself disappointed and unheard.

Having a small voice in a noisy world is exhausting when all you want is to be heard.

And since my wrists will probably give up on me if I pen-and-paper journalled, I settled for typing.

This blog is my breathing space, and hopefully, someday, someone out there will listen.