Recuperating to be minced once more

6 June 2013

Nothing matters anymore. I get it right. I get it wrong. Nothing matters.

After a lot of months, I am starting to emerge. Then I am being drowned. Small things turned into big things then passed off as nothing. I am tired of hiding. How many times more do I have to hide? I have people to protect. Protecting people meant destroying oneself even if there’s nothing much left; crying alone became necessary and having to keep to myself my pain is compulsory.

A dragon is inside, munching on me. When will it be through of devouring everything? Does this mean I have something more to give? I’m tired of being my present self but I do not know how else I could live with my goal of being honest. I only wanted honesty but society shuts me up. By being honest, I become a prey to abuse. Why is it difficult being me? I only want to be myself and I end up being miserable for doing so. I cannot understand anything including myself. People laugh when they mean they are mad and then they expect me to sulk when I’m looking at the irony of my stupidity to cheer me up from the degeneration of all of me. The song says, where do you run to escape from yourself? Where will I go? Is there a place for me where I can rest from myself too?

I thought 21 years was enough to know someone. It’s not. And I still have to tolerate her day by day. Hirap na rin akong pakisamahan ang sarili ko. Saan na ba talaga ako lulugar? Those who love me keep on telling me to give up but I don’t want to quit. I need closure.

 The days since January 8 have pounded me to pieces, dictating everything on me day and night. It has transformed me into someone born yesterday everyday and that becomes a total pain in the ass for everyone. The circumstances have teamed up to make me revolve around them, always submissive and agreeable and nothing but responsive to everyone else’s call. I have no control and am left powerless but demanded to exert power. I have to be powerful and powerless all at once.

 Among my limitations is that I get upset easily. If not for my belief in grace I would inconsolably weep since I was made to feel (no matter how much I resist it) that I do not deserve or am not entitled to anything. I’m no good at power play where they make you fell helpless and then send you off to murder. It’s tiring to be tossed like a volley ball from being worthless to being offered potentials to grow. The prospect of me being in that situation exhausts me. There’s nothing left for me to do but to keep on and move forward. I do not trust myself but my life verse stuck to me tenaciously as the tar held on to Briar Rabbit– Jeremiah 29:11.

I can’t decipher myself too. When I still was in control of who I am, I vowed I would change the world; today, I can’t even change myself. Look how society has curtailed people into subservience and hushed ingenuity (I admit to being one of such product). The egoistic me was ranting, “This world isn’t conducive for me to live in, find some other place.” The hopeful me was whispering, “You are placed in this situation for a purpose. Until the purpose has been fulfilled, don’t come out of this prematurely.” Is this my season? Is this my period of deliverance? It’s too selfish of me to think only of myself. I have to. I can’t let go of my case until I have figured out how I could make myself come out of this stupor.

Everything that has befallen me, I attribute to myself, as my own fault. I bear them with quiet acceptance, willing to face the consequences as they come, regardless of how badly I deal with them.

I will smile. I will live with whatever’s left of me. The fact that I am in the realm of perceived oppression and being distraught like never before meant there still is something. Oppression is only in the mind. I will come out of this. Though I pace restlessly in anticipation of when it’s going to be, I will be more than before I had undergone this crucible of innumerable tears and nothingness. The tunnel would end. My sensitivity would be upgraded to adapt to a wider range of people. This will work out. I am not at work. The Holy Spirit is. He has his time that’s different from mine. It’s salve to ascribe all good happenings to an entity higher than everyone else. I’m glad for Charlotte. Charlotte acts according to my ideals – everyone stands at the same level as equals.