Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Para sa marami, masaya kapag umuulan. Ang tunog ng bawat patak na nakikipagniig sa bubong na yero ng mga bahay-bahay, ang mapagpahingang samyo ng paligid dulot ng paghahalo ng tubig at lupa, ang malamig na simoy ng hangin na tila nagduduyan sa kanila patungo sa pagtulog ng mahimbing – lahat ito ay dahilan para sabihin ng marami na masaya sila kapag umuulan. Ulan ang nagsisilbing pagtakas nila mula sa kani-kanilang nakakapagod na mundo. Ulan ang nagsisilbing kanlungan ng kanilang mga pagod na puso. Ulan ang nagbibigay sa kanila ng dahilan para huminto at magpahinga sa pakikipaglaban sa buhay na mayroon ang bawat isa sa kanila.
Para sa marami, masaya kapag umuulan.
Para sa akin, hindi.

Sa tuwing yayakap ang dilim sa kalangitan habang ako ay naglalakad sa labas ng aming bahay patungo kung saan, hindi ko mapakalma ang puso ko. Ang bilis ng tibok nito na tila nagpapahiwatig na may hindi magandang mangyayari ang namamayani sa tuwing makikita ko ang mga tao sa aking paligid na nagmamadali, tumatakbo, naghahanap ng kanya-kanyang masisilungan, sakaling magsimula nang bumuhos ang malakas na ulan.
Hindi ako kampante. Hindi ako kalmado. Dulot ng ulan sa akin ay ang matinding takot na baka sa pagbuhos ng ulan mula sa madilim na kalangitan, lamunin ng tubig ang lahat sa aking paligid at tuluyan akong malunod…
Malunod sa mga alaala ng nakaraang hindi mawaglit sa aking isipan kahit anong pilit ko.

Ayoko ng ulan. Ayoko ng mga bagay na nagpapaalala sa akin ng nakaraan. Ayokong gumising sa umaga na matindi ang kabog ng puso dahil alam kong wala akong panlaban sa sakit na dulot ng tunog ng bawat patak, ng halimuyak ng paligid, ng lamig ng panahon. Ayokong makumbinsi na sa mga panahon na ganito, gusto ko ng kasama dahil ito yung mga pagkakataon na alam ko at alam ng Diyos na hindi ko kayang mag-isa.




For most times, I've always considered myself a disgrace. When you're suffering from anxiety and depression at the same time, such conclusion is never difficult to arrive at. I mean, it happens. I feel so lacking, so much like a burden to everyone I work with. Constant validations are a necessity and the paradox of my personality always demand to be felt.

It sounds like I'm so fucked up, but yes, I am.

But during times when life decides to shed some light on my darkest days, I just find myself feeling so accomplished. And then I just tell myself: "Hey, you're actually doing well."

For many, it seems so out of my character; but it has turned into a lifestyle - a major part of who I really am - from being a mere deviation from who I used to be. Fourteen years ago, I have started as an awkward, soul-searching teenager in a youth group in our parish until I became a photographer, a layout artist, an advocate of church cultural heritage, and then eventually appointed (unbelievably) as the head of a commission with sixteen organizations under its umbrella. That equates to almost 800 persons - of all ages - under my authority, my responsibility.

Whoever would think and say that it is easy deserves a good punch in the gut. The current parish administration had been spearheading a complete upgrade in the community since three years ago. And as we're dealing with traditional parishioners who have been so used to the olden ways, instigating necessary changes that would allow us all to keep up with the times, is totally daunting.

With this said, it isn't a question why I have expressed a million times before that I want to quit. Up until now, I am so convinced that the only way to get to live the life I've always wanted - free and self-serving - is to lose something I've always lived with: the church.


Friday, July 29, 2016

Lord, let me understand that I'm not the one needed; that in times like this, I'm not the one who can give comfort to an aching soul.

Lord, please let me be indifferent.

For once, take away this merciful heart so I can be fair to myself.
Please.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

It's been, what? Four months?

Four torturous months I have indulged myself in. Four long months I have wasted my life thinking I'm the only one hurting. Four long months I have just watched blindly how my world repeatedly crashed. Four months I have let myself be wallowed by self-pity because I was left alone, left behind, forgotten and set aside.

But now, I just want to say sorry, Lord. In the process of wanting to find myself, of trying to please others, I have forgotten You. I have set You aside. I have done to you what I believed was done to me.

I missed You. I missed what I was. I missed everything we all were, for You, in You. I missed what You were able to turn us to: carefree, united, one.

A lot of words had been said - both painful and vindicating. But I have chosen to listen to what will hurt me. And now, I have pushed not just the people I love most but also You. It was a choice of someone who got terribly hurt, but it was a mistake just the same.

I shouldn't have done what I did. I should have acted better. I should have picked up a better outlet. I should not have.. I should not have fallen in love.

 Truth is: I could say it's not a choice. You just feel that. But it had gotten destructive that it destroyed me, it destroyed us, it destroyed whatever I once was to You.

Because of the pain, I couldn't forgive. I kept on saying I'm okay when I'm not. I kept being a burden to people who just want me to be fine. And right now, I regret everything. I regret everything I have said, I have done, I have felt.

Because I had a choice, yet I didn't choose it.

I know I'm not the only who has a mistake here, but the bigger share is mine. And all I want now is to correct everything and turn things back to normal.

Because the people around me don't deserve it. Because as Your daughter who you love so well, I don't deserve this as well.

Acceptance is the most painful part, but I know now what to do. And thank You, thank You for reminding me that You are just one call away and that You never left.





Lord, I'm Sorry

2014 Copyright. Centurion Theme by Template Trackers - Published By Gooyaabi Templates | Powered By Blogger