mom, I'm learning

where I try to grow and succeed in life in my sensitive little ways

about me:

cosmic or cosmie

20 y/o, she/her

about this account:

this tumblr is basically my journal. I'll share how I process my emotions, thoughts, and problems, and how I try to figure life out. they're mostly made for me, but if you find my posts valuable, then feel free to follow me. i'm more than happy to welcome you to this journey <3

tags: (can change)

#reflection

#failing forward

#problem solving

#emotional self-control

#productivity

#emotional healing

#shadow work - uncovering unlikeable and repressed parts of myself

#action plan - posts with this tag typically start with a problem and end with what I think can solve it. I'm using this tag so I can easily find them

disclaimer:

growing in life includes healing my emotional traumas and reparenting myself. in order to do that, I have to be vulnerable and honest with my experiences. although, I may share unideal sides of someone, my vents can't and shouldn't define the person involved in my stories. it is only a "part" of them and they're much more than what I shared or am about to share. I only dislike what they "did", not them as a whole

boundaries:

be kind and respectful

i'm very open with corrections. just be kind when doing so :>

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ❝ You think that you are but a little comet, but the great cosmos lies in you ❞ (Ali ibn Abutalib)

then my counselor asked me "𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈?"

i looked at her in wonder

she continued, "you're studying in one of the most prestigious universities without paying anything. compare your tuition to the amount your parents are giving for your allowance"

i gave her other reasons why i feel like a terrible person. every time, she asked me

"is it a fact or a feeling?"

and every time i answered "feeling"

when we're clouded with overwhelming emotions, we struggle to differentiate the facts from our feelings, which is totally understandable. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺

this is the time we have to remember that we don't always have to go through it alone and we can seek other people's help

𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦

with love, cosmic

02.23.24

a letter to my friend

i've been there i felt the pain of realizing how far i am from the person i want to be. i realized it when i met people who embodies my ideal self. they have already accomplished a lot of what I want to achieve, while I am just beginning to realize what I need to improve on

i relate immensely with your word "I need more confidence, I need to be more accountable, I need to bring good changes, but also not lose myself"

bc in the process of gaining confidence, what if i lose myself? what if i won't like the change?

i kept thinking "will my friends still like me if i change?"

i have this "cosmic" persona—the person who is kind, soft, calm, comforting. if i try to be confident, will i be able to do it without being egoistic?

what if in the process of gaining self-love i forget how to love others?

well, a few years later, here i am ^^

i gainnneeed sm confidence

i smile and socialize more often

i even hosted a game event in person, can you believe it???? a reserved person like me hosted an event in person???

and now i know that loving myself, wont make me lose my love for others. in fact, it's the opposite. i became "the love"

i love a lot more, just like the way i love myself and my friends love the way i lift myself up as well it's contagious it's like every place i step into, becomes a space filled with love and warmth 💌

I was maybe around 7 years old when, every night, my mom would sing me to sleep. Her voice was so relaxing and soft, like a lullaby. I remember always craving that sound because it was incredibly comforting, and I would immediately fall soundly asleep.

Little did I know that the love I felt for my mom's voice back then would be something I'd wish someone would feel when they hear my own voice.

In the 7th grade, while other people's voices deepened due to puberty, mine barely changed and only sounded smaller in comparison to my peers. "Comforted" was what I felt from my mom, but the opposite was what my peers felt when they heard my voice: "irritated." My voice was so small that people thought I was forcing it. I can't blame them; it was also the time when Vice Ganda's song "Wag Kang Pabebe" and the "Pabebe girls" became popular. It was a terrible time for someone with a small voice to be heard.

Faced with ridicule, my confidence shrunk to fit the size of the box holding my voice. Speaking only triggered anxiety, as I was afraid that people would mockingly imitate my voice or that I'd irritate them and ruin their day.

My phone still holds one of the countless recordings I made while trying to practice deepening my voice. It was similar to the numerous takes I did to record a voiceover for presentations until my throat hurt so much that I could no longer speak because I hated how I sounded. It was like how I repeatedly sent voice messages where I think I sounded deeper to my close friend, hoping she would agree that my voice no longer sounded small. I vividly remember the nervousness I felt when I had to shout 'Para po' in a jeepney or 'present' during attendance checking in class. I'd sound like I was about to cry, which was true, out of fear that they'd notice my tiny voice, and I'd be reminded of my failed attempts to change it. Every time I heard myself speak, it only reminded me of the haunting echoes of the people who mocked it or the gentle pattering of my tears as they fell upon a flat surface.

It was until my mom returned home from abroad and I overheard her speaking to her friend. Her friend commented, "Your voice is still so small," which made me realize something I had never thought about before. The voice that comforted me to sleep, the one I had always loved and cherished, was very similar to the one I deeply hated at that time. I tried to listen to myself the way I had listened to my mom's voice before, and oh, how my perspective had changed. Yes, my voice is small, but instead of being irritating, it's more relaxing. My voice, just like my mom's, is as soft as the stuffed pillow that carries all the heaviness of the day at nighttime. My high-pitched and excited voice reminds me of the giggles of children, still innocent and full of wonder about the mysteries of life. My voice has its own unique tune that follows the beat of my soul's innocence and youthful spirit.

like, If i'm not good at math, then what am i really meant for?

i have been avoiding thinking that way because i genuinely enjoy math, and i'm afraid that questioning my skills might shatter my confidence and enthusiasm. the thought of losing that spark that keeps me going is just scary. but i realized that it's time to face the fact that i lack skills. it hurts, no doubt but on the bright side, it means i have so much more room for growth. there's more about math that i am yet to discover, and that excites me in a way!!! however, i'm also aware of the pressure to keep up with the fast pace of university life, and that can be overwhelming :( despite that, i'm hopeful and looking forward to my growth. i keep wondering how much progress i'll make in a few years if i stick with it and refuse to give up. i'm genuinely excited to see myself evolve and improve in math; i really wanna see it through 💌

last january 21, i realized that i'd been in a terrible place for at least a week i had been trying to cope healthily and face my problems as soon as i had them, but despite my effort, i still had depressive symptoms. my effort only worked temporarily. it hurt. the moment i stopped to do simple daily responsibilities, especially when I was not with someone I was emotionally close with, i felt the loss of motivation from doing anything, apathy, or heaviness again. i swear I was trying my hardest, so I didn't know why i still had nightmares, woke up too early, and was hungry more frequently than normal. it felt like i was desperately gasping for air, but the air's too thin, i simply could not breathe. it was a suffocating loop, i was slowly losing hope that's when i realized that maybe i didn't have to handle it alone. if handling them by myself is not working, shouldn't it be a sign to ask for help? so i did i went to my university's office of counseling and then told my appointed counselor everything i was going through after the session, i immediately talked to everyone involved in my problems. i told them what i was struggling with and that i needed their help. they were compassionate and open about it 🥺

more than a month has passed, and i think i am now more mindful of my capacity to handle things on my own and braver in asking for help when i can't handle things alone :>

how about you? what's the bravest thing you've ever done? let's interact ^^

i was eating in a fast food restaurant when i noticed two kids roaming around. at first i thought they lost something until their face lit up when they saw some leftovers and then ate them like they were having a feast

naalala ko ung mga batang nakikita kong nagbebenta ng malagkit malapit din sa lugar na yon they're probably 5-7 years old, dapat naglalaro lang sila, walang pinoproblema bakit parang luxury pa sa kanila ang makakain nang maayos?

sinundan ko sila para magbigay ng pagkain, naabutan ko sila nakatingin sa dunkin donuts pinoproblema ung presyo kaya binigyan ko ng pambili

sa daan pauwi may nakita akong kuting na patakbo sa gitna ng kalsada. hinabol ko tas binalik sa gilid para d masagasaan

may driver na nagtanong kung nakagat ba ako kasi naghiss sakin, sabi ko "hindi po" naappreciate ko ung concern nya at the same time wondering kung halata na sa mata kong paiyak ako kaya nag-aalala sya

ayon hagulgol ako pag-uwi

my brother liked a purse that looked generally feminine and my parents told him it was "only for girls"

i asserted "no, if he likes it, he should keep it"

ive been burning out recently, not because i neglected myself but because so many unexpected incidents happened to me recently. i swear i tried and have been trying my hardest to cope healthily, and it did help, but only temporarily because after handling one problem, another one follows. it feels like a suffocating loop. at first, i was hopeful, but the more it continued, the more my hope faded. "until when am i going to do this?" i asked myself when i had ||suicidal ideation|| just this week. i didn't know the answer before, but today i think it's as long as im breathing. it's scary thinking how it may never be better, but it's scarier thinking how it can be worse. im more scared of making things worse by doing nothing, so even tho coping can only make me feel better for a day, half a day, or even an hour or a minute, ill take it

after learning that earlier, i spent another hour thinking about what i could've done instead and what can i do better next time to defend myself