With Love, Antonette

Hi Tumblr, it's been a long while!

I couldn't believe it's been six years since I last accessed my account, but I'm glad I found it now.

For my memory's sake, I discovered my blog after a terrible health ordeal (it's sounds too serious but in reality it is more cumbersome and distressing more than life-threatening) that caused me to be stuck in my bedroom and reflect on many things. Being up at night, overthinking led me to search for my long lost blogging platform (This), and after a thorough search, I found it.

Needless to say, I was thrilled. I was amused that I had more than 50 unfinished drafts that dates back to 2012. I have a terrible habit of not finishing what i've started. Moreover, looking back into my posts reminded me greatly of the person that I was before - my sympathies and antipathies (a flamboyant way of calling 'likes' and 'dislikes'), my preoccupations, my thought patterns, and overall, the current space that I was in.

I had mixed feelings about it - I cringed at my past and old self, I hated myself for a while for getting so upset about the tiniest things and I recall how some things and some people meant the world to me at that time.

I was amused at how I predicted some things such as when I wrote, "suffering health consequences when I turn thirty years old" when I was in my early 20's

I was thrilled looking inside the mind and heart of my younger self. To be honest, I do not remember most of what I've written be

Overall, revisiting my blog felt like taking a time machine. For once I was grateful that I have the gift of putting pictures into writing. No matter how cringey this gets, I am grateful it exists. Surprisingly, I expected hating my old self a lot for being simple minded, weak and angry, but I know I needed to embraced this part to fully understand the person that I am today, so I can heal myself, move forward, and bless others with my life story.

Thank you Tumblr, for safely holding space for my thoughts and emotions, for capturing the essence of my youth in a easy-to-navigate platform.

I may not fully revive the blog now (I'm using Wordpress now, sorry), but you will always have a special place in my life.

For old time's sake, here is a photo of myself more than 10 years apart:

22 Years

Several birthdays ago, I would feel a glimmer of hope. I remember turning 18, filled with so much hope, with so much plans for the future that is yet to come. I envisioned how my 18th birthday will look like, and how the rest of the year should be. Who wouldn’t be enticed with the idea of leaving the past behind, hypothetically pressing the reset button and starting with a clean and blank slate? It screams freedom. It calls on a certain kind of power. I have my pen. I am about to write my future. It may be true for a moment, until you realize that there are things that are beyond your control and end up splattering annoying marks along the way. The moment you do something by accident, you know you cannot undo it. There may be ways to cover up the mark you left, you can hide it and no one will know, but you will always know, that you started messing up again, and it will never be the same. Your year has to be tainted. It’s ruined. Of course, as expected, things didn’t always turn out as expected. In fact, it was far less from what i imagined it would be. Looking back, I left that the excitement for the next birthdays start to dwindle gradually, but considerably. It came to a point that I was pretending to be happy about it, and it now it came to a point that it just felt like it were another day. I kind of gave up on the idea.

I imagined all sorts of possibilities. More realistic, happy and scary ones. Will I resign and get a new job? Will I travel and see Singpore again? Will I ever see Japan? Or a new country out of luck? Will I earn my money? Start a new hobby? Become an accidental mommy? Get engaged? Will a family member (God forbid) get sick? 

The more I think about it, even if I am not completely in control, I know and I feel that I still have power to lead my destiny.

Year, after year. I still have a glimmer of hope of what is to come. I’ve put all the expectations behind and still held on to what my colleague has said: 27 years is exciting. It’s the year where changes happen. I’ve taught myself not to set my aim too high that it will not frustrate me, but not too low that I end up wasting more time and slacking off.

Today was nothing special, and I'd like to treat this like any ordinary day. This is not the ideal New Year to wake up to, not the least bit, but, eventually, you'll have to get up, life goes on, and it will go on whether you like it or not. After all New Year is just a continuation of yesterday.

And right now I'm trying to survive. So let me get my cup of hot chocolate, and let's see what happens from here. :)

This would probably be one of the saddest and honest year-ender I'll ever write. Honestly, I never intended to do one for the sake of , but being able to write something, rather, I write selfishly, because today is one of of those days when your cup is full and overflowing with emotion -- emotion (mostly negative) enough to give me the urge to write again and feel better after. Have I mentioned before that I find writing cathartic, but I never had the urge to write on a daily basis because I realized that's not how I really am, or maybe I still lacked the discipline to sustain a blog, or maybe I simply lost interest in doing the  things i believe I love doing? I guess the answer is all of the above. 

Where do I start? I wish I could say that this year was a great one. It actually was. In fact, I believe the year started really well. Opportunities started to come in, new experiences, independence,  launched my budding career (which I'm not so sure if it's being a researcher or a future preschool teacher). Admittedly, I'm still trying to explore that area of my life at 24, but I hope I will settle for something that I really want, soon. Next year, I hope.

2014 was going well even when I failed my another attempt to apply for a job in an art school. I know everyone saw how anxious I was, how I put my effort, my passion in art, and everything I have just to achieve the dream. I wanted to make my family and boyfriend proud and finally, I'd be telling everyone  who'd be asking if I'm working, "Yes, I work *insert company* as a *insert job here*" I got disheartened when the odds were not in my favor, there is a bit of bitterness and frustration because the pressure to have a career is still there and it's haunting me.

Come June 2014, my father's lungs finally gave up on his incessant smoking so we decided to bring him to the hospital. It was when things went downhill because having three members in the family doing all the job is tough. I had support from my one and only best friend who helped me do the groceries and cook food for us. I am amazed at how I felt cared for by this best friend of mine even if she had tons of things to do. My boyfriend's mom was also there to help us. she even lent us money for some of the hospital bills because the confinement happened on a weekend when the banks were closed. I really appreciate the care she gave me on a moment's notice. It's amazing that one busy mom still had time for me, boyfriend's girl or not. The sad part is, I am already feeling exhausted, drained and depressed because I just remembered, while I was trying to bring papa's health back to normal, I was also struggling to go to my masters class which started this year, while I also try to take care of the boyfriend whom I needed the most when times are hard, but because he couldn't be there for me, I tried  to understand if he didn't make ann efort to visit us or anything to show support. I tried to understand the situation, although I wish he was there with me so I could feel that I can do all these things (Eventually he'd be diagnosed with MDD and then Bipolar Disorder, another slap in the face for 2014) So yes, I admit, I still felt alone and weak, despite the help I was getting, but hey, thank you everyone, your care and love for me and my family are well appreciated. 

I did mention having to struggle with my relationship, my significant other constantly anxious and sad because of thesis and practicum. To cut it short, it ended up in another breakup in July. I haven't recovered a bit from my past experiences and now it's happening again. I now remember how times were actually hard in the middle of 2014.

It was also the day that I got my Chihuahua puppy, Doritos, which I requested from the bf's family friend. I was this close to backing out since it will remind me of him but I still ended up having him. He took my sadness away and he was the best gift I've ever received.

And then that typhoon named Glenda destroyed everything. Stress filled the entire house. I don't want to elaborate on it, but yes, having to deal with sadness and emergency at the same time is just hard.

Somewhere in between I tried to proctor and experience psychometrician work at a new company that conducts annual tests in schools. It was a fun experience. I met friends, lots of them, I felt I had a real job even if it was for a few weeks and I earned some money as well. I slowly began to recover and forget the other nasty things that happened this year -- no, let me revise that: My temporary job made everything else tolerable amidst the hassle and the chaos in between.

And then again, another slap in the face happened to me: my beloved puppy fell sick. It was the first time that I had to take someone to a vet, where he would eventually be diagnosed with a deadly disease. I still had my hopes up when I took him to the hospital. I believe that I brought him early so there's no way that he'd die. I visited him every single day. I urged him to eat and be happy. I watched him turn from feisty to weak and depressed. And then when I got the phone call at midnight that he was dying, I cried so hard. I cried for myself -- why should this happen to me? I cried for him-- he's to young to suffer and die. He was such a great friend. I cried again for us --we still have yet to experience things together. I still have a lot of dreams for you. I did my best to endure all of these, I endured all the pain of watching him being euthanized (because he'll be suffering longer if he'll be allowed to die naturally). I endured all of these alone. I had no one to cry on when this happened, and it was just hard to describe. Well, good thing the ex offered a ride when we went to the vet to get the body. I still cry whenever I remember this loss of mine. it's just so painful. 

The following months were okay. I continued my research while I stopped studying temporarily. But perhaps, my mind was failing me. I started to feel indifferent about a lot of things. I felt my unsettled grudges piling up and resurfacing. I became more and more aware of the bitterness I'm feeling. I felt that I was slowly losing interest in everything. I no longer enjoy the things I love. I couldn't pick my pen and paints and draw another portrait. I couldn't go upstairs to open the piano and play a piece I find beautiful. I couldn't write, or blog either. I just lost it. I started to have less interest in going out. I don't know when I last felt eager  to wake up and look forward to something great. I don't remember feeling  very eager about going out with friends. I mean, I miss them, but the idea of having to have so much energy to go out and hang out with them and give them my undivided attention is so much of an effort. Oftentimes I bail last minute, and I was too tired and down to care that my actions were taking its toll on my relationships.

There are times when I'd break down and feel so upset about many things. Everyday, I am starting to feel that I've become more and more difficult to be with. I feel sorry for myself, honestly. But I have no energy to care about it anymore. In short, life was starting to become a mess again. I couldn't explain well enough here, how I managed to fail meeting my goals, that I still haven't settled the little things I have to settle, that I didn't get to take the board exam despite studying for it because I had so many excuses. I've been putting of a lot of things that I myself complain about: one is getting a therapist. and I regret not being able to do so. This isn't me, I kept telling myself. But no matter what I do, nothing's changing. And I allowed it to stay that way. Eventually, I felt my relationships weaken and break apart. I lost my bestfriend after Christmas day because I was to oblivious to the fact that she grew tired of me. I soon lost again another person but this is another story. This person broke my trust so many times, and it was my choice --a half-hearted choice to walk away. I loved this person. I loved how he still included me in his plans. I loved that he still loved me, but I knew deep inside that I'm not getting the love I truly deserve.

Now I know why I feel so broken and tired. I guess 2014 was worse than I thought. I regret having to end the year like this, but I'd like to think 2015 is just a continuation of this year. No new beginnings, no goodbyes. I guess it's a way of telling me that life is a continuous journey. So, to be continued then.

I will not stop setting goals for next year though. I will try my best to work hard now that I'm alone again. I will pray that things will get better eventua[lly. Hopefully, I'd be more mature to face the year ahead. ready or not, here I come. 

To those who might not know, the reason why I seldom post nowadays is because this blog has been “closed” since 2013 ended. The recent posts were mostly from my Instagram account (because I haven’t updated the Instagram settings for posting in Tumblr) and a couple of ‘accidents’ – posts that should be placed somewhere else but somehow I end up posting here.

I’d still love to keep this blog and come back and look at it from time to time, so see how much I’ve changed, how much I’ve grown.  It’s good to keep those memories, but I constantly feel the need to start over, so it would help if I leave my old home and seek a new one.

You might probably be unaware of it, but I created a new blog at the beginning of 2014. It’s not yet polished, and a few stories were still missing. I doubt anyone bothers to read my blog (I hope no one does) so this notice is not really necessary. It’s more of me talking to myself.