Tag Archives: Anxiety


Okay, enough TV. Let’s play.

(I haven’t painted in… 2 or 3 years? More about that next time. Need to face my fears right now. Yes, let’s feed the soul and not the fears.)


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On discernment and gratitude

Things are definitely a lot more interesting when you have cats as your work from home buddies. I finally got myself a monitor and plug it into my 13-inch screen Chromebook. My eyes cannot stand reading miniscule letters anymore. 😜 The cats surrounded me as I started unboxing it and, as expected, they took turns diving into the box. Diego got first dibs, as usual.

I don’t want to sound corny or anything, but little things like cats playing hide and seek in boxes bring me joy nowadays. It’s true about what they say about contemplating on gratitude daily; it does keep you sane. 😊

I went through a rough patch at work recently, which prompted me to push back and protect myself. It’s tough enough to deal with what’s going on in the world, so I refused to have complications at work. It was difficult, but it made me rethink things and prompted me to go inside myself and practice discernment. I’m still here, struggling less, but still hanging on. I’m taking it day by day. I am extremely impatient, but I’m going to breathe in and out and wait for things to unfold in their own time. In the meantime, I will just enjoy the company of my fur children and watch them nibble their way through their cardboard fortress bit by bit.

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The Return

Lock down started in the Philippines on the 15th of March. That’s 65 days of being quarantined with my six cats. It’s been one heck of a roller-coaster ride. It’s mind blowing to think that the whole world is going through this shared experience of isolation, together.

I started writing in my journal about a couple of days after the General Community Quarantine started. It was not easy. I was dealing with a lot of uncertainty, of sadness. I am lucky enough, though, to work for a company that allowed its employees to work from home. That kept me busy, plus I didn’t have to worry about losing my job. A lot of people were not so lucky.

Being in a Fight or Flight mode for a sustained period of time is stressful on the psyche. I was having nightmares each time I tried to go to bed and I would suffer through little anxiety attacks throughout the day. I ended up missing work for a week because of migraine and vertigo. The body and mind could only take so much stress.

Last year was not good to me. Yes, I got a promotion, but the was the only bright spot in 2019. My mom was diagnosed with cancer and was in and out of the hospital throughout the year. My dad broke a femor and needed surgery. Work was tumultuous and I had to deal with vicious slime balls. I ventured into a business with a friend. About a month or 2 after that, we closed shop and I  lost that friend. Mom passed away at the end of November and right before Christmas, my darling little Itom, my adopted black cat from PAWS Philippines, died from liver disease. I was glad to say goodbye to 2019 and was eagerly awaiting for 2020 to commence.

And here we are.

I have to say, that all of this madness is forcing me to stop and face a lot of things. With no other place to go but within, I can now allow myself to grieve. I hit the ground running after the funeral. I didn’t give myself time to process my thoughts and emotions. I keep thinking now: if I get infected and dying alone at home, would I say that I lived my life to the fullest or did I just did my best to just exist?

So 65 days in, I have decided to shake things up. I’m going to start blogging again. I’ll probably just have a lot of verbal diarrhea and spew out whatever that crosses my mind. I probably won’t have any readers, but who cares, right? I am doing this for myself. I should not be afraid of not being perfect, of being vulnerable, of living.

So here’s to Day 1 of my return, to myself and to me.

Twister can look straight into my soul.

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It seems easy enough to escape Quicksand. You just need to keep your cool, stay in the present, make room for yourself, float, and stand when you are able to do it on your own. You can’t expect people to pull you out of it because they can’t and they shouldn’t. It’s something that you have to do and figure out on your own.

I have never seen quicksand and, being a hermit that I am, I don’t know if I ever will. But it’s good to know; there is a life lesson here. I feel like I have been roosting in some form of bog of my own for a long time now. I have been living in a void that I have kneaded and fed, helped expand, and have allowed to swallow me whole. And, much like what they said about trying to escape quicksand, the more I struggle, the more viscous and constricting it gets.

I’ve been getting it all wrong, I think. I haven’t been making time to do things that spark delight in me. I have been too focused on struggling to survive, to make a living, that I have let my eyes wander off away from the prize. I have been settling for things when I should have settled within myself and listened to Steph. Is this really how I want to be for the rest of my existence? I need to find time again to do things that give me true joy; things that would give me room to expand and help me rise again. And, yes, I shouldn’t be afraid to lose my shoes or any other thing along the way. They are just objects, nothing of consequence. Life should not be about survival, but more about being alive.

I have lost my way and getting stuck in this quagmire was probably the best thing that could have happen to me. If you walk around without looking or without purpose or without being present, you are never going to get anywhere and, perhaps, you’ll never even know that you have been going around in circles, in a daze. Running on empty and on autopilot can only sustain you for some time. I should be grateful be in this sticky situation instead of wandering around aimlessly.

It will take some time to get out of this murky sinkhole, I know. Patience is crucial. It is quite daunting, to be honest, to try to get away from this. But maybe it would not be as overwhelming if I think less of it as a “escaping” and more of break, an opportunity to rest and just be. I’ve alway asked the world to stop from spinning so I could get off. Well, here it is. The goal is to trust enough so that I could float and stand on my feet again. I hope I don’t have to break my back like that cartoon guy did, but I am willing to roll on the ground and crawl if I have to. Then maybe if I let go–maybe, just maybe–I won’t just find solid ground to walk on, but be it would be strong enough for me to run on, lift off, and fly again.

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