"I am not water. I am neither drop nor gush. I am not a book on a shelf waiting to be read. I am wildfire. I am the blue that rips through words. I am the crack that hollows underneath. I am both midnight and midday. I am a fool. I am full of doubts and worries. I change my mind on a whim. I am stubborn, straightforward, unapologetic when I am right. I am cunning. I can still desire what I already have and give away what I never had. I am extraordinary, I am even for what I am not."
- Jenina (April 1, 2017)
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Hi-a-tus (n) : an interruption in time or continuity
“If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad.” – Lord Byron
It’s been three years since my last post on this blog. I actually wrote a couple of stuff (?) during the past three years but I haven’t really written something long-form. So, as lame as it may sound, here are some of my excuses. (I am allowed to have excuses, am I not?)
I think, I kind of stopped writing when I started working on the nightshift. After being a scholar of my parents for six months due to conflicts in my work and school schedules, I decided to work again. Luckily, after a week of job hunting, I was accepted as a research analyst at this start-up company. I was assigned on the night shift. Although I was a bit worried at first, I thought it was a good schedule since I had classes in the afternoon. And so I spent my nights working, my mornings sleeping or studying, and my afternoons were dedicated for MA classes. I wanted to write, badly. I had so much in my mind. But whenever I had spare time, I wanted to rest and not think. I just wanted to sleep or just waste time because I was always busy with school or work. I felt tired all the time and it’s as if the creative juices in my mind have dried up. Had I been famous, people would’ve called it a slump.
It was also right after that semester ended that I had one of the scariest, most painful memories of my life. It was an ordinary afternoon at home and I was watching TV when my dad came home from work (he runs our store located in a barangay, just a few minutes away from our house). He went to the kitchen and talked to our house help. My face was glued on the TV; I remember I was tuned in to Star World. I heard our house help talking to my dad and when I turned around, he looked like he was about to faint. We asked him to sit down and just a few seconds after, he vomited blood. I couldn’t remember clearly how everything transpired but I recall screaming for my mom. I went to my parents’ room, screaming to my mom that dad just vomited blood. He was still vomiting a lot when she came out. I couldn’t forget that image, how our living room became flooded with his blood, how the clean cream tiles turned red, how scared I was I just screamed and screamed for help. Even as I am writing this now, I can see flashes of that day; while typing, my hands still tremble at the memories. Nobody wants to see their loved one in pain and to see my dad that way…it was unbearable. I was shaking when my aunt and cousin came to our house. My older cousin carried my dad on his back so he could ride the tricycle to the hospital. No one else knew how to drive a car -- another reason that kind of pushes me to learn how to drive. When we came to the local hospital, there were no doctors because, apparently, they were all attending a conference in the city. Luckily, the ambulance of our local government unit was available so my dad was safely transferred to a hospital in the city. Gastric ulcers. It may sound like a simple, minor diagnosis but the fear, anxieties and pain it had brought my family, especially my parents, will never be forgotten. I remember the sun setting while we (my mom, dad, and I) were in the ambulance. It was a beautiful shade of red orange with hues of yellow, dark blue and gray splattered on the sky. The sight was to behold but what I was feeling that day…I never want to experience again.
The upside of that incident was that I was home, had no work or school, so I was able to help my mom take care of my dad while he was at the hospital. I think God really works in mysterious ways. However, after that happened, I barely wrote. I had no inspiration to write, no will, no creativity.
Then came another diagnosis that changed our family for both good and bad. End-stage renal disease. It happened last March 2016 when we had to rush my dad to the hospital again due to vomiting and high blood pressure. Doctors in Naga suggested that my dad undergo hemodialysis but my mom didn’t want to. And so they flew to Manila. Sadly, the diagnosis came out and we had no choice but to have dad undergo hemodialysis. Days, weeks, and months that followed were hazy, full of anxieties. Every time I would get a call from my family, my heart would skip a beat and my mind would just run around this maze, trying to prepare myself for whatever news I had to hear. I was also sinking into a pile load of school work that time. I didn’t know how I got through 2016 but I did. Sadly, my writing was pushed to the side again. I couldn’t write. I would have some ideas, some topics in my mind but every time I write, my fingers quiver, my mind goes blank, I feel heavy inside. Every time I write, I would stop at the first sentence. I just couldn’t. Until now, I still don’t know why.
So three years since my last post, I am here again, attempting to write again. And I think this is a good sign. I am happy to have found the courage to write about my dad, about what happened to him. I probably still can’t write in detail since there is still this pain and fear in me. Also, this post is about new beginnings. Actually, as I’m writing this, my dad is probably lying on a hospital bed right now. He was rushed to the ER two days ago after he vomited blood again. Gastric ulcers. Again. I think part of me kind of became numb to bad news about my dad’s health. And my mind is still in a maze right now, I’m not completely sure what I think or how I feel about all these. Sometimes, I want to shut everyone and everything out so I won’t have to feel anything. But that’s not how life works. So I mask my anxieties and fears with a smile and a positive attitude. Most of the time, it helps. Other days, I just feel lost. But I feel kind of lighter now after hearing news that my dad is stable, blood transfusion was done, and my mom is ok as well. I hope he gets out of the hospital soon. Also, when my mind becomes more organized, I hope I can write more about our family’s experiences regarding my dad’s health. It would be a good reminder someday of the many things that we take for granted as well as the many lessons only such experiences will teach.
So there, my excuses. I apologize for a very cluttered post. My train of thought is obviously messy right now, chaotic even, but please bear with me. I’m writing something this long in quite a while so sorry for the word vomit.
Anyway, I’m ending this very informal, muddled, full-of-excuses post. I promise to write more sensibly and judiciously in future posts. I will write more. I will.
It’s been three years since my last post on this blog. I actually wrote a couple of stuff (?) during the past three years but I haven’t really written something long-form. So, as lame as it may sound, here are some of my excuses. (I am allowed to have excuses, am I not?)
I think, I kind of stopped writing when I started working on the nightshift. After being a scholar of my parents for six months due to conflicts in my work and school schedules, I decided to work again. Luckily, after a week of job hunting, I was accepted as a research analyst at this start-up company. I was assigned on the night shift. Although I was a bit worried at first, I thought it was a good schedule since I had classes in the afternoon. And so I spent my nights working, my mornings sleeping or studying, and my afternoons were dedicated for MA classes. I wanted to write, badly. I had so much in my mind. But whenever I had spare time, I wanted to rest and not think. I just wanted to sleep or just waste time because I was always busy with school or work. I felt tired all the time and it’s as if the creative juices in my mind have dried up. Had I been famous, people would’ve called it a slump.
It was also right after that semester ended that I had one of the scariest, most painful memories of my life. It was an ordinary afternoon at home and I was watching TV when my dad came home from work (he runs our store located in a barangay, just a few minutes away from our house). He went to the kitchen and talked to our house help. My face was glued on the TV; I remember I was tuned in to Star World. I heard our house help talking to my dad and when I turned around, he looked like he was about to faint. We asked him to sit down and just a few seconds after, he vomited blood. I couldn’t remember clearly how everything transpired but I recall screaming for my mom. I went to my parents’ room, screaming to my mom that dad just vomited blood. He was still vomiting a lot when she came out. I couldn’t forget that image, how our living room became flooded with his blood, how the clean cream tiles turned red, how scared I was I just screamed and screamed for help. Even as I am writing this now, I can see flashes of that day; while typing, my hands still tremble at the memories. Nobody wants to see their loved one in pain and to see my dad that way…it was unbearable. I was shaking when my aunt and cousin came to our house. My older cousin carried my dad on his back so he could ride the tricycle to the hospital. No one else knew how to drive a car -- another reason that kind of pushes me to learn how to drive. When we came to the local hospital, there were no doctors because, apparently, they were all attending a conference in the city. Luckily, the ambulance of our local government unit was available so my dad was safely transferred to a hospital in the city. Gastric ulcers. It may sound like a simple, minor diagnosis but the fear, anxieties and pain it had brought my family, especially my parents, will never be forgotten. I remember the sun setting while we (my mom, dad, and I) were in the ambulance. It was a beautiful shade of red orange with hues of yellow, dark blue and gray splattered on the sky. The sight was to behold but what I was feeling that day…I never want to experience again.
The upside of that incident was that I was home, had no work or school, so I was able to help my mom take care of my dad while he was at the hospital. I think God really works in mysterious ways. However, after that happened, I barely wrote. I had no inspiration to write, no will, no creativity.
Then came another diagnosis that changed our family for both good and bad. End-stage renal disease. It happened last March 2016 when we had to rush my dad to the hospital again due to vomiting and high blood pressure. Doctors in Naga suggested that my dad undergo hemodialysis but my mom didn’t want to. And so they flew to Manila. Sadly, the diagnosis came out and we had no choice but to have dad undergo hemodialysis. Days, weeks, and months that followed were hazy, full of anxieties. Every time I would get a call from my family, my heart would skip a beat and my mind would just run around this maze, trying to prepare myself for whatever news I had to hear. I was also sinking into a pile load of school work that time. I didn’t know how I got through 2016 but I did. Sadly, my writing was pushed to the side again. I couldn’t write. I would have some ideas, some topics in my mind but every time I write, my fingers quiver, my mind goes blank, I feel heavy inside. Every time I write, I would stop at the first sentence. I just couldn’t. Until now, I still don’t know why.
So three years since my last post, I am here again, attempting to write again. And I think this is a good sign. I am happy to have found the courage to write about my dad, about what happened to him. I probably still can’t write in detail since there is still this pain and fear in me. Also, this post is about new beginnings. Actually, as I’m writing this, my dad is probably lying on a hospital bed right now. He was rushed to the ER two days ago after he vomited blood again. Gastric ulcers. Again. I think part of me kind of became numb to bad news about my dad’s health. And my mind is still in a maze right now, I’m not completely sure what I think or how I feel about all these. Sometimes, I want to shut everyone and everything out so I won’t have to feel anything. But that’s not how life works. So I mask my anxieties and fears with a smile and a positive attitude. Most of the time, it helps. Other days, I just feel lost. But I feel kind of lighter now after hearing news that my dad is stable, blood transfusion was done, and my mom is ok as well. I hope he gets out of the hospital soon. Also, when my mind becomes more organized, I hope I can write more about our family’s experiences regarding my dad’s health. It would be a good reminder someday of the many things that we take for granted as well as the many lessons only such experiences will teach.
So there, my excuses. I apologize for a very cluttered post. My train of thought is obviously messy right now, chaotic even, but please bear with me. I’m writing something this long in quite a while so sorry for the word vomit.
Anyway, I’m ending this very informal, muddled, full-of-excuses post. I promise to write more sensibly and judiciously in future posts. I will write more. I will.
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