theanonymousscrooge - Tumblr blog

[theanonymousscrooge]

Writing for myself is something I haven't done in a while. I mean, I did write in this blog a couple of months ago, but I rarely do that these days. Don't get me wrong, I still do a lot of writing. The nature of my job, after all, requires me to write a lot. But that kind of writing doesn't heal the soul. It doesn't allow me to reach into the deepest crevices of my memories. That is why I'm writing here again.

There isn't anything in particular I would like to discuss. I can't continue the threads I began several years ago, as the memories they detailed are too remote for me to accurately recall. I also can't write about my present-day anxieties and worries, as I no longer feel them in the same way I used to feel my emotions. It's like I'm dead inside. Stunted. Trapped in a cycle of consuming mindless entertainment and doing the absolute bare minimum (or nothing at all) in order to continue existing.

A part of me wonders if there is really a way out. A way out of a lifetime of...

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

It's my 9 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[theanonymousscrooge]

2024 (Part 4)

Something happened to me while I was on a flight yesterday back to the capital. For the first time in a while, I felt. Anxiety, longing, sadness, nostalgia, etc., all came rushing to me, and they manifested themselves through a slight pain in my chest. This was eventually followed by vivid memories. The types which, during the early parts of this blog, I used to experience every day. However, as I mentioned during the start of this thread, I have become increasingly numb over the years. For one brief moment, yesterday, such numbness went away.

The same happened today, while I was processing the loss of our animal loved ones. Memories, including some very ancient ones, became very vivid. The exact appearance of the classrooms where we used to have debate competitions. The appearance of the hallway in front of my elementary school's library. Even random conversations with random people came to mind. It was a shock to me, since for some time now, the memories had become increasingly hazy.

Honestly, I don't know what to make of all this. Some would say that's just a fluke, and I am quite inclined to believe that. I just find it interesting, and worthy of observation these coming days.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

2024 (Part 3)

Two supervening events occurred, one yesterday and the other one today. Two precious dogs in our family died. The dog who died yesterday belonged to my aunt, while the dog today belonged to us. Both dogs were brothers. By this time, I think they are about 12 or 13 years old. However, the way they died tells me that they died of some sort of disease; perhaps due to old age, or because they ate (or were bitten by) something.

It's painful. Death is always painful. It increases whatever existential crisis you already have, and it also makes you reflect on the past losses of your life. The terrible thing, of course, is that as the years pass, there will inevitably be more loved ones who will pass (both human and animal).

On a tangentially related topic, the events of yesterday and today got me thinking about an afterlife for animals. Of course, part of me is aware that wishing for an afterlife for our pets is hypocrisy at best. Such a place would be overcrowded, after all, with all the cows, pigs, chickens and other animals we slaughter on a daily basis in order to sustain humanity. But I am allowing myself to be selfish in this case. After all, heaven is infinite. If it is the case that there are billions, trillions even, of worthy animals in such a place, then why not? That will leave ample space for our own loved pets as well.

Can animals love? Most scientists will probably say no. They act out of instinct of course, and the pets such as dogs and cats have simply evolved to develop close bonds with humans in order to ensure their survival. But what is love, really? Perhaps (and most likely) it is a neurobiological phenomenon. If one really got down to it, it can probably be identified as a result of the interaction of various chemicals, neurotransmitters, and other biological processes. But can't love be something that is experienced instead? And if humans do indeed feel the love and appreciation from their pets, is such love any less simply because it's born out of an evolutionary imperative?

And perhaps it's wrong to apply the human concept of love unto animals. It's fair to say that, in their own meaningful way, our animal friends do "love us."

The death of my loved animal friends really takes a toll on me. The first instance was the death of one of our dogs last 2019. It was quite unfortunate that no one was at home at the time, and there was apparently a storm. Though he was already quite old, perhaps he would have lived another year or two had he not been subjected to the ravages of the storm. Up until now, I have never forgotten him.

Another recent tragedy was the disappearance of our cat, who was not yet a year old. My suspicion is he was either ran over, or poisoned, by a neighbor. I may be selfish for saying this, but I wish the same fate on whoever did that. I loved that cat, and it wounds me that I was away for quite a while.

And now these dogs. These dogs were there even before I started this blog. I started this blog in 2015; those dogs were born around late 2012 and 2015. Now, they have passed away within less than a day of each other. If there's any consolation, it's that they are probably together now in the afterlife that is reserved for animals. I am not the most religious person, but I do hope and pray that there is a good afterlife for animals. We haven't been the kindest to animals, after all.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

2024 (Part 2)

While these physical manifestations of my unknown ailment are bad enough, it's the psychological manifestations which bother me the most. One of the most troubling symptoms is my seeming apathy. I have become less prone to feel anything. Excitement, happiness, sadness all converges into a twisted mess of emotions in my head. Anger, however, always remains. I'm constantly defensive and paranoid. I feel like most people are out to get me, and I have to convince myself on an intellectual level that people don't give a damn about me enough to do that.

My memory is also getting hazy. It takes herculean (perhaps this is too hyperbolic) effort on my part to remember the events which I narrated in this blog. However, there are times when nostalgia suddenly hits, and I remember snippets of these memories. These snippets can be quite vivid, and they all seem to have a link to one another. Interesting, really, almost like how it works in the game Finding Paradise.

There are other things I am currently feeling and experience, but the long and short of it is that something is wrong. Terribly wrong. I don't know what, and I don't know why. But I can feel it. I've felt it for a while, really. And the worse part of it is that I expected this thing to get to me eventually. I expected it last 2021, 2022, and even last year. It's almost like I was waiting for death's sweet embrace. Not by my own hand, of course, but by this nebulous thing which seems to plague me.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

2024

In about two months, this blog will be 9 years old.

9 years. Let that sink in.

I won't lie. I can't really say that it feels like this blog was only made yesterday, because let's be real; so much has happened in the past 9 years. When I first started this blog, I had just graduated from high school, and was about to enter college. I graduated from college last 2019, and I finished my graduate degree last 2023. I even became a licensed [redacted] last December 2023. Not to mention that so many significant events have happened in the past few years, especially the life-changing (literally) pandemic.

Life has generally been good to me these past few years. As you all know, I am currently in a good relationship. I also have a job, and while it is stressful, it is at least intellectually stimulating. All in all, things seem great.

But the honest to God truth is that something is terribly wrong. It feels like my mind is slowly dying.

How do I explain this phenomenon? It's a combination of symptoms, really. First is my attention span. While I can largely attribute this to my addiction to YouTube Shorts (which started last 2021 and hasn't stopped since), I've already begun experiencing a drastic decline in my attention span since 2020. It makes me wonder when the point of no return was. Was it when I first got Covid last 2021? But as I mentioned, I started experiencing this since 2020. I can never be sure, to be honest.

Another symptom is constant lightheadedness. It feels as if my head is empty, or at the very least, too light. This is also accompanied by a very inconvenient pain which is akin to a mild nausea. What annoys me is that it is almost constant; not a day goes by when I don't have to apply ointment on my forehead and on the sides of my head in order to get some temporary relief.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

It's tempting to look back at the past with rose-colored glasses. After all, the past is past. It can no longer be altered, only our perceptions of its events can be adjusted. Just like how dead men can no longer tell tales, the past can no longer refute our interpretations of it. Of course, I am not talking about significant events in history, whose events can be objectively approximated through the use of various written and oral sources. I am talking about our own personal history, and the experiences along the way. Unless you are a prominent public figure, it is likely that you do not have a biography written about you.

Even an autobiography (most likely a journal in our case) alone is insufficient to combat our skewed perception of our own history. After all, we are usually blinded by emotions during important events. This is especially the case when we write about events during the heat of the moment, which is what diary writers tend to do.

To be completely honest, I forgot why I wrote this post. This part was written months after the first half was written. However, I'll do my best to continue where I left off.

Perhaps our obsession with the past comes from the fact that we are capable of interpreting it. While the past is indeed immutable, we need not mess with the objective reality of our past. Our frail, human memories only need to deal with the subjective reality of our past.

You may wonder why I continue to call it reality. Some may find it oxymoronic, even, to combine subjectivity and reality.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

Life is confusing. Every single day needs to be planned out. On top of that, we have to plan out our futures. As if this wasn't difficult enough, emotions eventually come into play. They tug at our heartstrings and leave us feeling more confused. What's worse is that they are all interconnected in some way. Love. Hate. Lust. Passion. Resilience. They end up in a crumpled mess inside our hearts and minds, and we end up doing the most stupid things.

Of course, there's the option of resisting the urge to lash out. But it takes a toll on you. On top of having to exist, you now have to reason with the beast residing within. What was already a difficult ordeal (existing) is made much worse.

I guess that's the beauty of life. We get to put on a show. A massive, colorful show. We get to show the world an image of ourselves, and if we're disciplined enough, we can curate this image into such a way that it does not betray the chaos within. We can, however, only do too much. The inner resists the trappings of the outer, and one can only rely so much on willpower for these things.

Some of you may be wondering as to what I am rambling about. Truth be told, I don't know. Consider these the ramblings of a crazed mind. Perhaps that spirits of those who have passed have an idea. If they do, please grant me the willpower to contain these beasts.

[theanonymousscrooge]

For quite some time, I've lost that spark. The very spark which spurred me to write blog posts all these years. Nowadays, I feel like my thoughts are disjointed; my comprehension of things is virtually nonexistent.

Hello again! It's been quite a while since I posted here. Since then, many things have changed. In fact, a lot of things have changed since I first posted here. In my first blog post, I wrote about entering college. As of this post, I recently finished a postgraduate degree. It's been 8 years. 8 long years. 2 of those were spent in lockdown, of course, due to the pandemic which I'm sure all of you know about.

On paper, it may look like I've won the battle. I no longer suffer from being "Single Again" (still one of my favorite songs after all these years). Life is not as uncertain as it was before. While I am still plagued with insecurities, my understanding of the world has expanded to the point where I can effectively deal with such insecurities.

My main problem right now is that I am dead.

I feel empty. Dead. No will to live.

This isn't the same feeling I had when I wrote my first blog post. Sure, I felt much more depressed back then. However, the sadness within was also balanced out by hope. It was a vain hope, of course, but it was hope, nonetheless. And if hope wasn't enough, I also had ample amounts of anger and spite flowing through my veins. Every day felt like an adventure into the unknown. There was fear, but there was also excitement.

Is this a result of growing up? Fully and truly entering adulthood? Is this the curse we're forced to live with?

(TBA)

[theanonymousscrooge]

During the past few months, I've been doing my best to improve my life. However, quite recently, I've been hitting a rut. It feels like both my mind and my body are conspiring against me. While I've never been one to shy away from a nap, I am increasingly feeling tired despite having slept more than 8 hours during the previous night. It's been a struggle to get up from bed, and to do the things I need to do. And there are a lot of things I need to do.

[theanonymousscrooge]

Recently, I've been experiencing a return of depressive symptoms. I feel as if I am constantly living in a fog. I have also been dissociating more frequently. It's almost an otherworldly experience. During the most intense episodes of dissociation, I have to exert mental effort in order to remind myself of the here and now. I remind myself that the people I'm seeing before me are real, and that if I'm not careful, I might accidentally collide with one of them.

[theanonymousscrooge]

“Today I escaped anxiety. Or no, I discarded it, because it was within me, in my own perceptions — not outside.” 

During my college years, I attempted to practice Stoicism as a philosophy. I thought it was the perfect way to deal with the mess of emotions which constantly threw me about like a plastic bag in the wind. However, the emotions would always get in the way. All the hurt, shame, and everything that came with it got in the way. How unfortunately, really.

Recently (perhaps a few weeks ago), I decided to adopt the philosophy for good. I got a copy of Marcus Aurelius' Meditations, and slowly read through it every day. Following the advice of a stoic practitioner, I bought a notebook where I would handwrite significant quotes I found. Now that I've finished my first reading of Meditations (since it is the kind of book that you have to constantly reread over your life), I am moving on to a book which seeks to analyze the various themes in Meditations. After finishing this book, I will read a book from Seneca.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

Yet another "New Year"

In less than a day, we will be welcoming another "New Year." 2023. Before we talk about the possibilities 2023 brings, let's take a look at the year 2022. What has been 2022 been like? By the way, I am well aware that the last update to this blog has been quite a while. It's been a busy year, after all.

2022, for the most part, has been quite eventful. I spent a majority of the year in my hometown. However, in September, I was forced to relocate back to the capital since the lockdowns had loosened, and face-to-face activities were resumed. Thus, I was forced to once again adjust to a new environment. While I initially thought I would struggle, I was quickly comfortable with the new set-up. Of course, it helped that I was in an upscale neighborhood.

Given this, the year 2022 can be divided into two major parts: the hometown phase (Jan. to Sept.) and the capital phase (Sept. to Dec.). Both have been quite eventful, but in different ways. The hometown phase has been more eventful in terms of my interpersonal relationships. On the other hand, the capital phase forced me to take a look into myself once more, and to finally start to figure out what the fuck I really wanted to do with my life.

So strap in, folks. This will be a thread, as is all that is posted on this blog.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

It's been a tiring few weeks. After two years of staying in my hometown due to the pandemic, I've been recalled back to the capital in order to resume my studies here. Of course, a lot of things have changed since I was last here. Many people who I used to hang out with are no longer here. My opportunities to interact with those I do know are also largely limited, since most of our classes are still online (not that I'm complaining, of course).

When I first learned last August 22 that we had to go back to the capital for classes, I hyperventilated. I barely survived my third year in law school, after all. I could not imagine having to go back to the grind after two years of basically "quiet quitting." For an entire week, I kept myself in a state of denial. Even though I was quite certain that we had to go back to the capital for our required internship, I held onto the possibility that we would still retain the online set-up. After all, I'd grown accustomed to simply staying at home. While living alone had its perks, I could no longer imagine spending time away from my family (and of course, our dogs). The aforementioned fact (that many of my friends are no longer here) didn't make things any better.

Nevertheless, I had no choice. By the end of that week, I had resigned myself to the reality that I had to go back. Thus, I spoke with my mom about the need to find new accommodations in the area. Luckily, we were able to find one quickly enough. This time, the space was nearer to my school, as well as to other commercial establishments. But I digress. None of you are probably interested to know about where I currently live.

What I really wanted to talk about is my ongoing battle with anxiety, and the new "tool" I've picked up in trying to combat it. Honestly speaking, this isn't exactly the first time I've tried dabbling in this new philosophy. I previously attempted to practice this habit in college; unfortunately, as you can probably see through my past posts on this blog, it was largely a failure. At the time, no amount of Stoic practice could overcome the emotional rollercoasters I frequently had to go through.

(TBC)

[theanonymousscrooge]

Thank you.

[theanonymousscrooge]

Why do I always feel like giving up? On most days, I feel like simply disappearing. I think about how things would fall into place if I was erased from existence. I do wholeheartedly believe that the butterfly effect resulting from my sudden (and retroactive) erasure would be an overall benefit to those who know me, as well as to society-at-large.

[theanonymousscrooge]

Today, I attempted to write a story. However, lacking the energies which one fueled this entire endeavor, I was unable to write one to my satisfaction. Most of what I came up with was trash, and so I stopped. It got me thinking about the very source of fuel which powered my writing for the longest time: heartbreak (as well as anger and spite). Did it give me a temporary boost in writing prowess, only to permanently debilitate my cognitive abilities through long-lasting depression?