There’s a way…

“4 am” by Kaskade was playing in the radio.

It alluded so many memories from seven years ago.

She remembers how far she’s come.

Past loves, past life, past memories were all behind her.

She’s finally reached the temple.

On top of the mountain, she looks on to the sunrise and sings,

Dreams are shining.
Finally they’re within reach.

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First Week: A Bunch of Alpha-Female Teachers. *B&tch Stares.*

Another first week of the nursing semester has begun, which means, new classes, tons of homework, new faces and new teachers.

So far, the stress of completing readings (11 chapters to read by the first day!), stressing on whether I passed or failed the dosage math exam (taken on the first day, if failed for the second time, I will be terminated from the program) and completing assignments (due by Saturday THIS WEEK) has led me out-of-my-normal sync and it has put all of my scheduled running goals on hold. I haven’t ran since Monday! *gasps*

“The first week is always the hardest.” -Ricky.

On top of the workload, I have the b*tchiest instructors who were sticklers for every single pet-peeve that they’ve obtained from previous students, who made them who they are today. It seems that for every semester, they acquire a nuisance and they add it to their long and tedious syllabus that they coined “the contract between the students and the teachers.” I do admit that reading those syllabus has amplified my strong fear for strict, alpha-female teachers, but not entirely. The fear I acquire from them motivates me to excel and not settle for anything less. I had a very strict teacher once and she molded me to be an A – B range nursing student, something that I didn’t expect years ago- when I failed my first Biology class when I first started college.

So yes, the perks of having strict teachers involve pushing students to strive harder and to pursue perfection in their best capabilities. Also, it encourages students to live up to their teacher’s expectations, wherein the students mold themselves as close as they can to be the professor’s “ideal nursing student.” Some of the students try hard to kiss ass, they are snotty, aggressive and bossy to their peers and they like to get the attention of the instructor. I find myself rolling my eyes and shaking my head when they argue with the teacher about a fact or when a fellow student blurts out the answer to them,  No! That’s not what the book says… or How did you know that- that is the answer?! My response: B*tch, please! I read the book, so I know. Of course, I didn’t say that out loud, but I wish I did!

I always like to tell myself, “Welcome back to nursing school! These are the type of people you’ll be working with.” Great.

Anyways, tomorrow’s my first clinical for the RN program. I have to wake up at 5 am and report at 7am. I gotta sleep NOW OR I WILL REGRET SLEEPING LATE!

Hopefully, tomorrow’s interesting which means, I’m open for more b*tchy instructors and bossy classmates. Can’t wait for drama.

Yay.

Day 37: Take it as it is.

When life gives you lemons, squeeze it.

That’s what I did today.

I didn’t cry, I didn’t feel sorry for myself, I felt that life has given me another chance and I took it.

Today, I had a great time with a new friend, Isabelle, whom I’ve met through my parent’s get-together parties with their friends every Saturday. We had lunch and although, she’s only 18 and I’m 23, we had a pretty good discussion about life. Honestly, she’s the only friend I’d consider right now and I’m hoping that we’ll get along pretty well. I know the age thing is a bit off, but I think she’s what I need right now.

I’m hoping that we’ll hang out again.

Day 36: In need of a friend.

It’s 11: 21 pm and I’ve logged into Facebook for the sixth time today. I lied, it’s actually six plus ten, that’s how much it was. As usual, I see people’s updates in my feed- people, not friends (with the exception of my siblings and my mom). I often wonder, why do I keep all 169 people in my list when none of them count as my friends? I think I see the good side in people despite my cynical disposition in their motives, but in all honesty, none of them really care about me.

However, what they love to do is to “like” my pictures, my occasional rants of begging for company, my inspirational quotes, but none of them likes to dial my number to call me or to even write me a “how are you?” on my wall or my inbox. Even with the so-called friends I’ve gotten to know more closely, they haven’t been in contact with me. It seems that alcohol was the only thing that connected us all.

But anyways, it has been like that today and every day. My phone vibrates endlessly throughout the day and the only thing close to having a communication with the rest of the world are spam e-mails on numerous discounts, demanding Facebook requests in fueling people’s obsession with Candy Crush, nagging updates for my phone and Ricky’s texts messages. He’s the only one I’ve been communicating with other than my family’s requests. I mean, it sounds like I should be contented with that, but I’m not.

Recently, my dreams have been weird. Every night, I have been sent back in time when I used to go to school in the Philippines. I was hanging out with my childhood best friend, Stephanie, who was the only person I enjoyed hanging out with before I left for America.  Spending time with her was almost realistic, yet surreal. I didn’t want to leave because my mind was feeding off from what completed me: her friendship. However, my subconscious mind drew a strong parallelism with the reality and my dreams to the point where it all clashed into a twister of confusion and then I was in the verge of not wanting to wake up until it brought me to the edge of reality: my sadistic thoughts and every piece of my worries rushed back to my body to wake me up. It has been like this almost everyday but sometimes, I wouldn’t remember my dreams. I would sleep for hours, sometimes nine to ten hours and I wouldn’t want to wake up. I would set up an alarm to wake me up at exactly eight hours of sleep time, but I strongly urge myself to go back to dreamland. Dreaming was my escape from reality, from loneliness and the pain of being alive and incomplete. It was my numbing addiction and it has kept me sane so far.

Sometimes, I question my sanity. I over think and try my hardest to cheer myself up. However, it’s not always pretty in my head. I envisioned stabbing myself with a knife, wondering how it feels like to have that blunt stabbing pain pressing onto me, puncturing every organ, while my blood trickles down to a huge bloody puddle on the floor. My thoughts of suicide become more vivid when I realize that there isn’t something I’d live for or when I feel the dull silence of loneliness. No one cares as much, except maybe Ricky who half-listens and who half-understands. I tried battling my depression but my inadequacy in terms of my hiatus in my career and failed friendships have led me to be weaker. I lost my spark to look forward in life as if my embers have been scattered elsewhere or have been frozen with the occurring harshness of life. It feels like I’m in a dark tunnel with no end and no signs of light. I tried my hardest to push forth, but it’s all very repetitive. I’ve posted quotes on my mirror and on my walls encouraging me to push and to hope harder- but I happen to see past all of them. The words in those quotes are redundant and they begin to sound empty to me.

I’m trying to find my light- that light that I imagined at the end of the tunnel. I think the main reason why I haven’t given up it’s because I still have a tiny bit of hope- a small, wavering light buried underneath all the frozen embers-still lit but very fragile. I imagine myself- bigger, boastful and certainly satisfied with life. I see myself working in my dream job, meeting co-workers who would eventually become some of my friends, and standing tall and prideful to those who have forgotten me completely when I was weak.

I know that all of these sufferings are temporary because eventually it will all pay off. Not now, not tomorrow, but soon. Life is a cycle and I’m glad that it is or else, how are we suppose to live without going through hell first and then surviving it to make it to heaven?

In this very moment that I’m typing this, I want to be thankful that I’m still living and experiencing this sad part of my life. People are worrying for far greater things than me and they have a million reasons to end it all, but most of them still chooses to live. I want to be a person who becomes a prodigy of success from my depression and not a reminder of pity and of giving up. Right now, I want to accept every inch of my loneliness, every empty space in my heart, and all of my inadequacy. I want to lay out this ugly side of me and all my vulnerability to the world. This is who I am and this is what I have come to accept before I get to the end of the tunnel. I accept all of this because honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about it anymore.

So, to my reader, thank you for patiently reading my rambles. I hope I could shed a light into your life no matter how sad or happy you are right now.

Thank you, you’ve made a purpose in my life:

To tell you all my misery that were driving my sanity off the edge and all my hopes that are still keeping me in touch with you.

I sincerely thank you for everything.

Day 35: The same crap

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I want to scream because I feel this ’emptiness’ inside me grow bigger that it starts to hurt. I feel so lonely and isolated. After all, isn’t this what I’ve asked for? People would leave me alone and let me be. But it seemed as though they’ve tossed me aside- like some side dish to their main course.  But really, I feel like I want to scream and cry, but I cannot bring myself to do any of that.

The idea of “being happy by yourself,” and without depending on other people for happiness was initially suggested by Ricky. He believes that I shouldn’t rely on people to make me happy or for the sake of having company. [But aren’t human beings social by nature?] He thinks that I shouldn’t chase after people and let them come to me… blaahh blahh blahh.

What he doesn’t understand is that we’re different. He’s introvert and prefers spending his quiet nights playing his guitar, watching YouTube videos, getting amused aroused by the pictures in Chive and jerking off on some blonde b*t*ch in pornland. I, in the other hand, would prefer either spending the night by crafting alone [when I have no one to hang out with]  or to hang out with people [who doesn’t heavily chug alcohol like it’s water] and by people- I mean, friends who I can be myself and be spontaneous with!

I think Ricky has it easier with everything else. He’s got friends from high school whom he can call whenever. I can’t do that because I didn’t have friendships in high school that survived this long. I know of some people whom I used to hang out with, but it’s been years and if it’s anything, we’ve only hung out because of a project we had to do.

The main root of my friendship disappointments stretches back to when I first came here in America. We moved a lot before we settled in Virginia and it has been tough trying to make friends because I knew those friendships won’t last. Then when we finally settled into Virginia, I dated my first boyfriend, Dave, when I was 16 and I was utterly naive. I wouldn’t spend time with any school mates because I knew I was comfortable with him and having friends didn’t seem like it was necessary at that time. After three years of dating Dave, I felt utterly alone because he was the only friend I’ve got. Eventually, I found friends, then ditched them for a new boyfriend, we broke up, then I try to find friends then have a new guy… etc. It has been a cycle.

In all honesty, I’ve got more experience in dating instead of handling friendships. I am very skeptical of people’s motives; therefore, I don’t usually keep them close. The only ones who  pursued in getting my trust were men who were willing to date me. Other than that, I haven’t met anyone at this point, who wanted me to trust them. Maybe I do, but I’m just being too stubborn and too picky.

Hopefully, this feeling gets better eventually…

Day 34: Meet my new friend

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The question I’ve been asking myself lately:

Why do I waste my time for people who don’t value my effort to get in touch with them?

Why should I pursue them to fill the ‘void’ of emptiness inside me?

Do I really need friends?”

Indeed, “No man is an island.” However, it is possible that you can be your own man in your own island. Besides, at the end of the day, who can solve all your problems? Sure, you look for guidance in God or for what religion you believe in, but who fixes it all in the end? You, not your parents, not your friends, no one else, but you.

You are your own hero. Do we have to wait for someone to motivate us to change? Do we need to find someone to fill that void we feel inside? Do we have to be around people to make us happy? Of course not! Change should start within us. Hope should blossom in ourselves. We should find happiness in ourselves because it’s permanent and it’s stable.

All of this that I have mentioned, came to me in one, quick blow while I was showering this morning. It felt like it was a revelation initiated by an invisible baseball bat that made me break from what I previously believed in: I need friends because they make me happy. In that moment, in the shower, I felt like I was indeed all on my own:

I am my own best friend,

I am my own hero,

It’s me against the world.

Although, you might think I’m skeptical and distrustful of people, you’re wrong. I know there is good in people, but I can’t rely on anyone to be in their good side all the time. I can’t rely on anyone to be by my side when the tides of darkness suddenly comes hurling in my life. I need to stand – fully armed and head strong – when things get rough. If someone is next to me, then I’ll be happy, but I won’t require an army of ‘nobody’ to stand there with me, because it only takes one person to finish it. It’s my problem, it’s my life and it’s all mine.

Before I end this post, I want to make an oath to myself:

I, Khristine, promises myself that I am perfectly happy with or without any friends. I am fully accepting that I cannot convince everybody to be my friend. I am no longer seeking for people to fill the empty void inside me. I take full responsibility in providing love, security, happiness and hope for myself. Finally, I am going to accept my imperfections for being an insufficient friend to some and start establishing friendship with myself even if it takes a thousand million tries.

This is the beginning of a new friendship with me 😀

Day 31: Here’s a nightmare, I hope you wake up.

I have been depressed for the past few days and I think yesterday’s post revealed that I was in my lowest point. Miraculously, somehow, I woke up today with a bit more optimistic look in my life and it seemed as if I literally woke up from a nightmare.

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Last night, my dream revealed my deepest fear -something I have been hiding for quite some time now. I thought I’ve locked it somewhere safe, but apparently, it managed to sneak out. My deepest fear- which I think is utterly ugly- is the thought that Ricky might cheat on me. I dreamt of him as someone who resembled my first ex-boyfriend, Dave. It was as if Ricky and Dave was battling to be someone in my dream: Ricky’s calm persona switching to the douche-know-it-all Dave, all at the same time. Although, I knew that I was talking to Ricky because I remember asking who he was talking to and I immediately speculated that he was lying based on his nervous response “It’s nothing. It’s just… Zach, I…um I gotta take this outside.” Immediately, I saw a copy of his phone (I was dreaming!) blinking next to me because a text message arrived. I saw the contacts in his phone- each with an alias name- something that he has done to all his contacts in real life: He calls me “Crazy Bitch” instead of Khristine and “Big Poppa” instead of Zach. Well, in my dream, I saw different names and pet names of people. I wanted to open all his messages so bad, but his phone immediately locked itself. I began to wonder, “He never locked his phone and now he does.” This thought motivated me to speculate on Ricky. I tried opening his phone with my own code, but it didn’t open. I decided to catch Ricky’s act of cheating by waiting for another text message to arrive, so that the phone will unlock itself again, thereby allowing me to read everything. Unfortunately, in my dismay, I woke up- very nervous.

However, there was a small pause, almost like a porthole to reality that led me to believe that I was dreaming. I felt like I was in heaven, among the clouds and I was about to enter reality when it happened- I was repeating what I said from my previous blog post: ““I feel so ugly” and “I hate myself… why do I have to be like this.” Somehow, in that moment, (which I would coin as lucid dreaming) I wanted to make myself realize how my insecurities are starting to take a toll in my life. My insecurity of feeling worthless has led me to question my trust with Ricky. I recognize the same insecurities I had when I was dating Dave. Dave cheated on me with a girl whom he thinks was better than me, because I was insecure with myself, which he found undesirable. Subconsciously, my mind was trying to open my eyes by leading me into a nightmare- it was making me feel that same heart-wrenching poison of finding out that I’ve been cheated on. Despite the crazy dream, I realized that if I continue being insecure and being depressed, my insecurities might repeat history.

And so… I woke up and I was further slapped by an interview I’ve watched in Access Hollywood with Carol Burnett. She quoted her deceased daughter who died of cancer:

“One day, the nurse asked her [Burnett’s daughter], ‘Why are you so happy all the time despite all that has happened to you?”

“Every time I wake up, I decided to love myself,” responded Burnett’s daughter.

It was right there and then that hit me in the face. That girl died of cancer, yet she loved every bit of herself. She had so much optimism, despite the drugs and all that she has done in the past. I looked at myself and I felt ashamed for letting myself down too much.

She was dying of cancer and I bet the chemo was turning her physically different, but she still loved every bit of herself. That’s true love right there.

 

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I believe that insecurity is the ugliest thing that can make a girl undesirable. Forget not wearing make-up. Real beauty is found in the inside and if a girl does not realize her own worth and her own unique beauty, then a man will never hold on to her. He would rather be with a girl who doesn’t wear make-up but she is content in her own skin and she is happy with her life whether it’s shitty or not. I want to respect myself and forgive myself for all the things I lack. I’m not perfect and I accept that. I want to be contented with what I have and make the most out of it. I believe that my life is beautiful and that I am truly blessed to have a chance to live and try again. I didn’t know how my mind saved me, but it triggered me to do something with my life. I know I’ll be depressed again, but hopefully I can go back to this moment and come out even stronger.