you're not supposed to be here

hindi na naman ako makatulog. sobrang ingay ng utak ko. minsan iniisip ko bakit ko pa ba pinapatagal lahat ng ito. alam ko sa sarili ko na nalulunod ako pero ayokong magpasaklolo. ayoko nang humingi ng tulong. halos wala na rin epekto yung mga gamot. pagkatapos nyang mawalan ng bisa, bumabalik na naman yung sakit. walang katapusang routine. gusto ko lang magpahinga. gusto ko nang mamahinga.

2025 was the year I finally slowed down and faced myself. There was no big turning point, no dramatic closure...just a quiet realization that I was tired of living in survival mode. I spent a long time pretending I was okay, convincing myself that time alone would heal everything. It didn’t. What helped was being honest about how much I was still carrying. These words are what happened when I finally let myself look at my life honestly without pretending, without rushing, without trying to be okay when I wasn’t. This year made me confront the parts of me that stayed too long, hoped too hard, and loved past the point of self-respect. I had to admit that some of the pain I felt came from refusing to let go when I already knew the truth. Letting go wasn’t sudden it was a series of small, painful decisions I had to make over and over again.

2025 taught me how to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. I learned to stop chasing explanations, apologies, and closure that were never going to come. I started choosing peace not because it was easy, but because continuing to hurt myself was harder.

By the end of the year, I wasn’t completely healed, but I was more aware. I understood my boundaries better. I trusted myself a little more. I stopped measuring my worth by how much I was willing to endure.

Next year, I promise to show up more. To be braver for myself. I won’t stop choosing myself just because it’s lonely. And that, more than anything, is how I begin again.