Dreaming and Waking Up

I didn't wake up in a funk today, mostly because Lucia (who did not sleep beside me last night -- for the first time! D:) walked up to me and woke me up. I was having a wonderful dream (or maybe I was already half-awake and daydreaming, I can never tell anymore since I sleep so much these days), and I wish I could've lived in that reality a while longer, but my Reality, Lucia, wanted to snuggle.

This is the reason I still wake up.

--

Last night, we went to a children's party and I saw all my former (?!) colleagues from school. They all gave me hugs and were fantastically supportive, but I was anxious the whole time. In fact, my hands were trembling so much, I had to grab on to my husband's jacket to keep them from shaking. He kept telling me that everything was all right, that they were all rooting for me, but it was overwhelming to be in that huge crowd, with everyone knowing and not knowing, all at the same time.

My hands were trembling so much, I couldn't feed Lucia properly. My hands wouldn't cut the food properly, let alone lift the damn spoon to her mouth without the food spilling over.

When we finally left, I could feel the pain in my wrists, fingers, and hips (I took to standing outside, calming myself down with that which I sorrowfully picked up again...it calms me down, somewhat). As soon as I got home, I took a shower, drank my meds, and fell promptly to sleep.

Being with other people exhausts me, mainly because I have to pretend so much. I don't know why I do that.

---

I am grateful then, that exhausted as I was, I actually had wonderful dreams. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful dreams. In my dreams, I had That Day. I hate that I have to settle for that, but if that's what's given to me, I shall hang on to it, by all means.

It's so difficult. For everyone, I know. I know that. I wish there was a way to comfort everyone involved. Especially...But I shall have to do that in my dreams first.

Maybe they'll cure me of the pain (soon, I hope, because it's still so painful), but not...this. Not this. Never this.

This is the reason I wake up, too. (Inasmuch as I want to keep on dreaming those dreams.) This is what's fueling me to want to get better. For myself.

Today will be better. Because of those dreams. And because I was woken up by my angel.

Goodbye and Thank You

Passed by school today to get my personals and put certain things in order. On the way there, I was having mini panic attacks again. My fingers actually started to hurt from all the tension. When I got to my cubicle, I stood there for a while and just...breathed. It felt oddly comforting to be surrounded by my things, stuff I've accumulated from teaching since 2003.

First things I packed were my shoes, then my personal books, then all my journals (all 4 Moleskine journals, God I'm garrulous). I managed to run into two co-teachers and a bunch of my 4A kids. I wanted it to be a quiet exit, I didn't want to have to see people I knew so that I could save myself from shedding a few tears, but it was useless. Especially when I passed by the classroom.

All their desks and chairs looked so organized (the most organized I've ever seen!) and there were remnants of the busy week they just had. I saw all their banners. I saw my old podium. I saw the clean blackboard. And I saw the emptiness.

I had a good talk with my friend and co-teacher before I left. We shed some tears, because we knew, at the back of our minds, that this could be an actual goodbye. I know I said it was a goodbye-for-now sort of thing, but who knows? The future is so murky at this point. But more than that, it was just the painful realization that everything is changing. Acceptance will come sooner or later, but for now, the realization is overwhelming enough.

I'm going to be okay. Today is a better day. Well, an easier day, at least, panic attacks notwithstanding. I dunno. Ask me again later. But at this precise moment, I'm actually feeling a little. Full stop. Meaning, I can actually feel something. It's not necessarily sadness -- it's just that I feel the emptiness now. And the desire to fill that emptiness.

It's like realizing I was hungry, and now I want to eat. (Ironically, I've lost almost all my appetite. I've lost ten pounds already. A perk of depression, wee.)

One day at a time.

Remember

Forgetfulness

(Billy Collins)

The name of the author is the first to go

followed obediently by the title, the plot,

the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel

which suddenly becomes one you have never read,

never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor

decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,

to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye

and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,

and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,

the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,

it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,

not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river

whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,

well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those

who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night

to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.

No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted

out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. 

How Are You?

I've managed to find some time alone -- or at least managed to get my husband to allow me to be alone for a while. Without really doing so deliberately, I find myself mere meters away from where he knelt down on one knee and offered me my engagement ring.

---

The doctors said it takes about 4 weeks for the meds to fully incorporate themselves into my system. Maybe that's why all I've been feeling is tired (which, ironically, was the exact same state I was in, the one that got me to this...place). Oh, the bliss of remaining in bed forever.

That was all I wanted anyway. Just to sleep.

Every day, the nurses asked about my "thoughts." If they remained the same, if they've somehow shifted from the desire to actually commit to just objectively looking at what had happened as...just that...what had happened. They kept asking me what my plans were. "Anong plano mo pag labas mo?" All the time, every day. I guess it was their way of assessing if I was stable enough to get out.

Truth is, I have no plans. Plans are being made for me.

Everybody is taking care of me, constantly asking me if I'm fine, if I'm all right. As if something magical could happen 5 minutes after being asked the same thing.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the concern. I do, really. It makes me think that what I tried to do was indeed stupid and selfish; that so many people would've been heartbroken. (Oh, Lucia.) But...I hate being asked how I am because bloody hell if I know how I am.

Just that. I don't know how I am. I can't seem to feel anything. (Meds?) Maybe this is good. I'm dead inside.

---

Come feel with me.

---

Feelings are stupid. I don't know if I ever want to feel again. 

---

This morning, Lucia and I played like we used to. She was so happy and I laughed at her silliness. A kind of near-hollow laugh, the kind that fooled my little one enough for her to scream with glee. And in that instant, I decided that my next tattoo would be her name. On my wrist. Only fitting. 

---

Oh, don't worry, I'm all right. I'm okay. (Because I know you're asking how I am.)

Sunshine

I saw the sun for the first time in two weeks today. I went downstairs (as we are now living in a new condo – the 4th place we’ve lived in since the start of the year) and purposely blinded myself with the sunshine. I was wearing a sweatshirt with the hoodie raised though as I could still feel the cold from the basement, as if it seeped into my bones permanently. I’m always cold now. Those two weeks away from the sun might very well have been an eternity.

I was sedated for the first two days. Dreamless sleep is a gift. After that though, the dreams were all the same. All so painfully hopeful, juxtaposing with reality in ways that made them medicate me even more. All the meds in the world, and I still couldn’t forget. Maybe I just want to forget. Remembering is so painful.

On this, my first day out of the basement, I find myself falling back into the routine that they established down there. I even let my husband do the mouth check after taking my meds. Is it strange that I find comfort in that? And stranger still that, on this, my first day out of the basement, all I want to do is...go back? It was safe there. Clean. And it was okay to be weird, crazy, to have an episode. Down there I was so far away from everything that hurt. And now, all I see are glimpses of what put me in this position in the first place.

All I see is...

I went downstairs to see the sun, but I want to go back to even further down, back to the basement, so I won’t have to remember that the sun continues to shine, even without...that.

They’re trying to cure me of this. Maybe that’s why I can’t see how Some Day can happen anymore. I don’t know anything anymore. I want to wait, but I’m so tired. And it’s only been two weeks.

Just Like That

...

With no other explanation.

/wrist

This is totally the last time I'm doing this Magic 8 Ball thing with my iTunes' shuffle, by the way. Ano ba.

Do What You Have To Do

(Sarah McLachlan)

What ravages of spirit 

Conjured this temptuous rage? 

Created you a monster 

Broken by the rule of love 

And fate has led you through it 

You do what you have to do 

And fate has led you through it 

You do what you have to do

 

And I have the sense to recognize that 

I don't know how to let you go 

Every moment marked 

With apparitions of your soul 

I'm ever swiftly moving 

Trying to escape this desire 

The yearning to be near you 

I do what I have to do 

The yearning to be near you 

I do what I have to do 

But I have the sense to recognize 

That I don't know how to let you go 

I don't know how to let you go 

A glowing ember 

Burning hot and burning slow 

Deep within I'm shaken by the violence 

Of existing for only you 

I know I can't be with you 

I do what I have to do 

I know I can't be with you 

I do what I have to do 

And I have sense to recognize but 

I don't know how to let you go 

I don't know how to let you go 

I don't know how to let you go

Tantrums, Naps, Goodbyes

At church earlier, Lucia had her first, real, public temper tantrum. Indeed, the Terrible Twos are a-comin'. I whisked her away, out of the Crying Room (yes, the irony is not lost on me). When that didn't work, we went up the staircase. That didn't work, so we went downstairs instead. That didn't work, so we went out into the street. That still didn't work, so we calmly got our bags and left. She was still crying bloody hell in the van.

I'd like to think I was relatively calm throughout the whole episode. I just let her cry and sort of waited the whole episode out. The embarrassment that other people said I would feel didn't really settle in. Mostly, I was...jealous. I was jealous that she could have such a fit in public. Sometimes I want to just flail my arms, cry, let the freaking snot flow down my face, and just cry, cry, cry.

And I wanted to cry, right then and there. I didn't know what was happening to me, I didn't know why I was so overwhelmed. I didn't know why this little nugget of heaven would cling to me for comfort when I couldn't find it within myself to just...

Eventually, she did calm down. In fact, right now, I can hear her and the yaya squealing with delight over goodness know's what. She should be taking a nap soon, but I don't know when or how that's going to happen now.

I'd like to take a nap. Sleep for a long, long, long time, and wake up, when all this is over. But I can't sleep. (Eat, move, breathe.)

Oh. Because it's Monday tomorrow. And tomorrow I say goodbye. That's why.

Because.

I've spent the better portion of the evening crying. There. I said it. I've been crying. I've been sad.

Hear that, Universe? I'm acknowledging The Sadness. And raising an angry middle finger.

I am in existential umbrage. I am chugging on the moonshine of the eternally angry. I am kicking the shins of the well-meaning but severely misplaced it'll-be-okays. I am dousing all Hallmarkian notions of happy days, happy times, and happy happies with the gasoline of the runaway car that died in mid police car chase because of an overheated engine, and lighting a match. (Yeah, just a plain match. I don't have to effusively describe every damn thing, do I?)

I am...Sad. Scared. Brokenhearted. Pretending. Tired. Hungry. Numb. Sleepy. Awake. Panicking. Catatonic. Ambivalent. Paranoid. Desperate. Apathetic. Sober. Drunk. Bleeding. Spent. Stricken. Condemned. Judged. Consoled. Pacified. Controlled. Feared. Loved. Misunderstood. Unraveled. Ensconced. Exposed. Hidden.

But...and this is me desperately clinging on to that solitary hope...I'll be okay. I'll be okay. I'll be okay. I'll bounce back. I always do. It's what I do.

Because.

...

    ...

        ...

A crimson hot-air balloon will fly in the sky, and my hope shall come back. And by then, I shall have been okay.

(It's just that...right now, at this precise moment, it is very difficult to be happy. And so many people need me to be happy so that they can be happy but...I can't. Please don't ask me to pretend right now. Not right now. Just for a while.)

But it'll come back. And I'll be waiting.

---

It's only for a little while. 

I'm so sorry that I have to go. But it's only for a little while. 

I'll never be too far away anyway. 

And Now We've Landed on Mars

...and found proof that Men don't always come from there! :P

Day Two in My Inability to Verbalize Thoughts. (NB: This "inability" is a lie by the way. I'm just choosing to be reticent for now. Too many thoughts to choose from.)

Anyway, garrulous preamble aside, I really am in a state of funk; verbal constipation. And so, Magic 8 Ball cum iTunes Shuffle, take it away:

If We Can Land A Man On The Moon, Surely I Can Win Your Heart

(Beulah) 

I'll fight

If you want me to fight

I'll laugh

If you want me to laugh

And cancel out the sun

I will I will

You know I surely will

'Cause all you need is a pretty song

If you wanna sing, tell me what you wanna sing

And I'll play

Speed it up or slow it down,

if you want we'll change our sound

We'll play, yeah we'll play

Anything that you want

All we want from you is a word or two.

And even though, we don't show

We cast our nets like missionaries

If we sell out, oh well

Our only fan will be changing costumes

And you'll see it's much the same

so sing our songs

And for applause

We'll get up, get up

If you wanna sing, tell me what you wanna sing

And I'll play

Speed it up or slow it down,

if you want we'll change our sound

We'll play, yeah we'll play

Anything that you want

All we want from you is a word or two.

I been worth a ton

and I've been worth

I don't need you need

The words you write

make my heart race and stop

and just quit

Yeah, we'll do anything

that you want.

Yeah yeah, so please don't go and break our hearts

Yeah yeah...

I'll fight

If you want me to fight...

And Today's Message From the Universe Is...

First song on shuffle when I woke up this morning.

Through the Backyards
(Au Revoir Simone)

Baby tell me please 

Is this a dream 

Spending the night with you 

Beneath the cherry trees 

Just make a wish and everything comes true 

Out the windows of my bedroom 

Through the backyards of our neighbors 

But I didn't leave you waiting 

There was endless concentration 

Then the moon swept down to greet us 

It was warm and made of flowers 

Into vines that barely reached us 

Climbing higher than forever 

Baby help me please 

In knowing this 

'Cause showing never tells 

Was it just a breeze? 

Was it a kiss? 

Breathless exquisite chills?