nicathena210-blog - Tumblr blog

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A week ago, I said I'll leave my heart in Baguio, hoping to come back for it soon... I returned, and indeed, my heart was still there, now filled with love 😊❤ I'll be bringing it with me to UPD soon!!! (at Camp John Hay) https://www.instagram.com/p/BsLDLZNBJTR/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=3p0yzxkqcbcm

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when we rise

I’m a morning person. I love being a morning person - waking up, even before the sun shines, when it’s cold but a cup of hot chocolate and the excitement of waiting for the sun to rise is more than enough to warm my heart.

It makes me happy to see darkness turn to light, and know that the light stays with me. I think there’s something with that metaphor that makes me optimistic in the morning, and tell myself “it’s a new day to be better”. There’s definitely something in seeing life flow through dew-covered grass, chirping birds, and jogging people, and then to me.

Suddenly, I’m soaked in water in the shower, singing happy songs, then going off jogging. I feel a sense of orderliness and optimism with this, like everything else should feel right for the rest of the day. Well, I hope it does.

It’ll be awesome if you feel this too. Give it a shot! It wouldn’t feel this good as early as the first time you do it. But notice the small happy things, make it a habit. It’ll be great!

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I’m the type of person who’d talk to people randomly. Some would find it creepy, but I’d say friendly. I’m that familiar face in the hallway, never not finding a stranger around. Because of that, I have a lot of friends, too many, you would say.

But the weird thing is that... I don’t belong to any of those circles of friends

Have you had that time when Messenger would say there are 99+ friends online? It feels like there are too many of them, but when it comes to actually scrolling, choosing who to tell your greatest or saddest day to... there’s suddenly no one. 

And you get hit with that thought. You have no one. 

I’m sorry if this feels familiar to you. I really am, because I know how bad it feels. It feels like the world goes on without you in it; that you have a lot of people around you, but no one would care if you’re happy or sad, but they keep saying they do but you rarely believe them. You’re the opposite of a phantom limb, present, but not quite important. And it doesn’t matter what they say...

To me, it doesn’t matter.

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Me

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Malu The Fluffy ☁️

Credit: malusamoyed

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Wanderlust is taking over.

Credit: @shandandherdogs

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Big white fluffiest are so sweet! ☁️

Credit: samoyeds

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Cute girl 🌸 -  Toshimi

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Golden Retrievers are amazing!

Wish these autumn colours lasted forever 🍁

Lizzie.bear on IG

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Waiting to find true love… 

Credit: Kiel James Patrick

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I totally agree 🐶

A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than you love yourself.

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On being a woman

I’ve always wanted to write something about how unlucky it is to become a woman in the world today. I was convinced it’s pretty shitty. Read on.

The biological reasons come first - suffering period every month for a week (other women bleed for weeks, or not at all), this comes with unbearable cramps, mood swings, breast soreness, and insatiable cravings! Add all these things to future pregnancy and childbirth, where the uterus stretches itself to fit another human being, and the vagina stretches even more deliver said human! I could only imagine how tough a woman’s anatomy is!

With hormones constantly being messed up with these biological changes, women also tend to have more... unpredictable psychology. PMS is definitely not a joke. Feelings are more sensitive and dynamic. Alternating mood swings may drive people around us crazy, but it drives us crazier about ourselves. Some mothers even suffer postpartum depression as a result of childbirth, which is supposed to be a very wonderful event... but sadly not for them.

In addition to all these, social problems burden us too! Catcalling on the streets, and blaming the victim (mostly women) for it make me angry. Judging my choice of clothing, words, and actions just because I’m a girl is unjustifiable. Where did these standards even come from? I feel sorry for little girls who are raised in this negativity. Restriction on jobs, salary, time of maternal leave, and more problems are faced by a woman in the modern world. If you’re from Asia, patriarchy is even worse, and women are even more downplayed. People judge you for wearing make-up, then wearing none; starting a family, then not wanting to have kids at all; being thin, then being fat; covering too little skin, then covering too much. It almost feels like you don’t own yourself. How can you be yourself, grow and succeed as a person, if this is the society a woman lives in today?

Then I look at my mother...

She has dealt with an early and untimely pregnancy of her only child. She has endured painful labor. She has suffered and got away from an abusive relationship to make sure I grow up away from harm. She has sacrificed money, sweat, and tears to make me the woman I am today. My mama is my pillar of strength and courage. She would help me when I needed it, tell me she loves me even without me saying it first, tell me she loves me too when I do say it first. No matter how huge the problem is, my mama always has a solution to it.

Even if she didn’t understand at first, she tried to help me with my depression. She tried so hard, and I saw it, and I fought harder in return. Even if she didn’t want it at first (she got HELL mad), she let me be with my boyfriend. She knew I was growing fast, but she always reminded me not to take things too fast. Even if it’s hard, she’s the best mother she could ever be. My mom didn’t judge my choices even if other people did. Instead, she supported them, corrected them when necessary, and she did so with love, and not judgment. She raised me all on her own efforts, and she has done an excellent job. All my personal faults and imperfections are my own fault. She has done a perfect job as my mom.

How does it feel to have an Asian mother? No overnights. 6 pm is too late to go home already. 6 am is too early to leave the house. She wanted me to go to a boarding house instead of a school-subsidized dorm so a family would keep an eye on me. Skirts and shorts should be below the knee, and sleeves should cover the shoulders. No swearing or cursing of any kind. Good thing I turned 18 already HAHA! Great thing my mom trusted me of myself...

Today is still a tough time to live. Good thing I have an awesome woman with strong principles and faith that I could hold on to when mine is weak. My mama surpassed great trials so I’ll know I can surpass mine. She rose despite everything the world throws to her, and I’m proud to be her daughter. It’s in my hopes and prayers that I could make her proud of me too...

**

post looks messy, but hey! A mom appreciation post! ❤❤

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A suicide note

I wasn’t sorry when I didn’t tell you how bad it was. Not when you had your whole life going on. Not when you’re confident I’m okay.

I wasn’t sorry when I chose to be alone. When I chose to wallow in my pool of sadness, thinking it’s better this way - that you didn’t know. That no one did.

I wasn’t sorry when I agreed to cancel plans. I understood you were tired. I wouldn’t want to burden you more.

You’re my best friend. But I wasn’t sorry that I did it. At that moment, it was my only choice. It hurt too much, and I had nothing else to do, nothing more to hold onto. It was no one’s fault but mine... I AM sorry.

I’m sorry I drowned myself in too much despair, I didn’t reach out for your help this time. But believe me I thought about you, and I fought so badly. I tried to convince myself you love me, tried to pull back from the same self that tells me otherwise. I’m sorry I let that self win this time... 

I’m sorry if you think I left you alone, when you never ever did, but I’m sorry I never saw that. I’m sorry  still felt lonely. I’m sorry that now you actually are... You cared, you loved me... I’m sorry I failed you again.

I wish I was still around to dry those tears I brought you. But be strong. Be the strong person you taught me I should be. I wish you wouldn’t blame yourself for my literal fall. If anything, you’re the reason I stayed alive for more time than I should have. Thank you for being that part of life that had meaning.

********* A friend of mine lost a best friend to suicide lately. Seeing her grieve for that friend made me feel the need to apologize for wanting and trying to kill myself, mostly in the past. I didn’t know who her friend was, but I felt how sad she was. She lost her best friend.

What if it’s me who died?

Would my mom feel the same grief if she lost her only daughter? Would my boyfriend cry for me? Would anyone else miss me besides the two of them.

I’ve never experienced grief first-hand so it felt really heavy feeling it from her... I’m sure she feels worse... and I wouldn’t want my family to feel worse. No, I wouldn’t want to be the reason they mourn. Of course, I think about this when I’m actually suicidal, “would anyone miss me?” But the answer never came to me as clearly as it did today. And it makes me want to fight better everyday. That resounding YES makes me want to actually live for them. 

They’re the part of life that has meaning. It’s not much, but it’s more than enough... 

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Something to cheer you up 🐶

Credit: Carlota

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(mellow) yellow brick road

Possibly the best and worst thing about being alive and being human is redoing the things you’ve done before and expecting better results. That’s my prompt for writing here again. I’ll try again to convert my thoughts into words in writing, hoping it takes away some pain, wishing it adds up some happiness.

I never really understood how sharing your thoughts work - when you share burdens, it’s supposed to be lighter, when you share successes, it grows and makes you happier. It took me a long time to convince myself that sharing is simply good. Share the bad stuff, it goes away. Share the good ones, and everyone benefits. I say a lot of things about sharing <_< but yeah, you get it. I’m now writing, not with the purpose of self-help, but more with a purpose of lifting others up around me with the things I write about.

So why Mellow Yellow? 

The rhyme just popped to my head and since then, I’ve been saying it randomly, You know, like... “falafel”. It’s also a song by Donovan, GREAT ARTIST., but I just recently found out Mellow Yellow is a name for a yellow dildo Donovan found in an ad and used as a song title.

But most importantly, Mellow Yellow is me. (Wait, so am I a yellow dildo?? OOF I’m not.)

ANYWAAAAAY

To most people, I’m a bright ray of sunshine and joy, someone who always smiles when most people don’t, someone who laughs and makes other people laugh. But to me, alone, or with a few people, that bright shade of yellow is a mask to hide another shade of ugly, murky, mustard yellow. That hidden side is sad, melancholic and rather dramatic, lonely even if not alone, even pretty reserved... mellow. Lately, I’ve opened up to more people, and it’s been amazing walking down a mellow yellow brick road with people who care a lot about me. I think I’m in a better place every time I share my thoughts - both happy and sad - and open up to people.

This blog should witness a mellow yellow’s journey to idk where <_< It’s definitely scary, but...

IT’LL BE AWESOME!

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.

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PS. Travelling without a destination scares me. A LOT. So writing this scared me... but hey. I actually wrote something that’s me... :) I’m happy

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I like being around other people

I think that’s the implied conclusion when you don’t want to be alone. 

Wait, no. I want to be alone. I want being alone as I can just cry no matter how hard I want my wails to be. I can hit my head to the wall and no one would care, or I can stare at the wall for hours and no one would call me out. I can even kill myself when I’m alone :)

But I’m past that... wanting to die. I just fuck up every time now and make a finger bleed every now and then. Living is becoming a daily suicide, and having people around helps.

When you have people around, they help you fake a smile, even a laugh. Good for you if that becomes a real laugh yay. When you have people around, you restrain yourself from breaking down. When you have people around... you’re not alone. When you have people around, you’re living a little bit more... you’re driving a knife to the middle of your chest a little deeper. Which is which? I can no longer tell the difference... 

I die, I live it’s all fucking the same.

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The truth??

It never gets better. People don’t get less shitty. Situations don’t fuck you up less. You just get stronger, you just grow tougher. KEEP ON!