it’s YOUR fault (the blame game)

It’s become so easy for people to transfer blame when needed. Granted pointing a finger is less effort than actually solving the problem or coming clean about issues but ask yourself, who is that really helping?

Not those who were wronged, I’m sure. They’re still there wallowing in their pain, hoping that someone at least says sorry. Not you, you’re in DENIAL. You’re gonna keep making the same mistakes unless YOU recognize they were your mistakes in the first place.

Take that girl you’re dating for example, you’ve been cheating on her for awhile and every time you get into a fight about it. You say she’s being too suspicious. That’s your fear of getting found out projecting onto her as a defense mechanism. (This is clearly a hypothetical guys. LOL. Calm down.)

Or

In my case, I’ve been procrastinating doing something really important, something I should have done for awhile now. Everytime it gets brought up I blame my health, my degree, circumstance. Name an excuse, I’ve probably already used it. Every single reason except the honest one, ME. I’m stuck. I think it’s easier to sit here and wait for things to happen than actually do something about it.

I’m having none of that anymore.

I’m just gonna pick up the phone today and start calling people I need to call to get my book out there. Yes guys, all this ranting is about a book- well, MY book. It’s a long shot but most dreams are.

I guess other than assigning blame on some external force, I let my fear of rejection cripple me. I’ve had my fair share of doors slammed in my face, professionally and not so professionally. *wink* I’ve learned to accept that, but writing, especially literature, is where I’m most vulnerable so I keep putting it off.

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Funny thing about rejection, it’s okay as long as you’re at a safe distance and you have a back-up plan. Remove those and you feel naked, stripped of a get away. That’s when fear sets in and you’re not sure what to do. If you’re ever in a position like this, FACE YOUR FEAR. Usually the thing we’re afraid of the most are the most gratifying to conquer.

Here’s a little nugget of wisdom from someone who has been in denial and afraid for awhile. Take responsibility for your actions, mistakes or otherwise. You’ll find your sleep more comfortable at night and your errors, whatever they were, tucked away in your experience chest. You never know, if you cheated or did something really bad to someone, you just might be forgiven. Sorry goes a long way. At least in my book, it does.

For the dreamers, don’t let fear take over your life. Don’t blame the lack of inspiration, opportunities or some other made-up story you know is just another thing to blame. Focus on the dream and JUST START.

You can be great if you choose to be.

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#SuicideAwarenessDay

That moment when you’re so eager to write about something you feel so strongly about that a million words are begging to burst out and be written but at the same time as the pen hovers over the paper, nothing comes out- not a single word, well I’m having one such moment. I’m just unsure of how to begin this. Do I start with statistics or quotes or pictures or my own experience or someone else’s that has helped shape my own? Something compelling enough to interest you but honest still that it remains as meaningful as it should. Let me start with this:

Suspend your judgments. Suicide isn’t just about statistics, it’s about stories.

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Some of you will judge this entry the same way you judge every person who committed suicide or have tried to, with extreme prejudice and I ask for the sake of this day and this discussion that you open your mind to opinions other than your own. The fault of this bunch, which I don’t find a fault at all but many will, is how we see things. You see them at eye level, for what it is. We see them from overhead, standing on a table and seeing ourselves in comparison to others, in association with things we don’t have or the person we can never be, happy.

I will not generalize the neigh sayers, they come from different backgrounds and varied beliefs, nor will I stereotype those who have had this problem. Trust me they’re not always the guy with the heavy eyeliner make up and a blade pendant secured around his neck. It’s not as plain and black and white as that. Sometimes it’s the town’s golden girl who maintains straight As and is quietly drowning in the pressure of perfection or maybe the quiet kid who sits at the back of the class who is invisible to everyone but the restroom mirror where he spends his lunch dismantling a sharpener.

I'm scared | via Tumblr

To them suicide is a way out, not selfish but reasonable. To stay in a cycle where you’re constantly unhappy and alone, feeling either like a huge disappointment or anonymous is not worth living over every single day. That thought consumes you and dulls every form of happiness most people savor. TELLING US TO GET IT TOGETHER AND DISMISSING OUR WORRIES WON’T HELP BECAUSE REALLY WHEN YOU DO THAT, YOU’RE BRUSHING US OFF. Were you even listening or were you too busy judging us and labeling our problem  non existent because it’s not cancer or ebola virus?

I am in no way advocating for suicide, not because it’s cowardly but because YOU’RE WORTH A LIFE. Trust me when I say that no matter how bleak and dark your life is right now, I need you to hang in there. YOU ARE WORTH EVERYDAY YOU FIGHT FOR. YOU WILL FIND HAPPINESS ONE DAY AND IT WILL BE EVEN MORE WORTH IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW HARD YOU FOUGHT FOR IT. I’m sorry you had to in the first place but trust that your strong enough to overcome this and know that wherever you are, no matter how alone you feel, you never are. 

And to those whose made it and are now happier and better, I am so proud of you. You deserve every praise for deciding to stay and choosing to stick with it every single day since. I wish you the happiest of days, you deserve no less for the courage and strength you’ve shown. There may still be rough patches ahead but find comfort in the fact that the enemy you fought already lost a few times before and you have the upper hand because you’re stronger than all you demons.

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My friend mentioned a few days ago how pointless suicide hotlines are because if you really wanna kill yourself, why would you want someone to stop you? She has a good point actually and I’ve considered coming up with alternatives. Although I’d like to think that it’s because most of them, deep down just want a reason to stay. Here’s one:

Everyone is worth saving. YOU ARE WORTH SAVING.

So be it on #SuicideAwarenessDay or any other day of the year, if you ever feel like throwing in the towel, talk to someone. Sometimes we only need reminding of how much we’re worth. There’s no shame in that.

And to everyone else reading this post, I hope you’ll find it in your heart to be nicer, more open-minded and understanding of people whose circumstances may be far from your own. Give that shy guy beside you a chance. Talk to the girl who consciously fiddles with her shorts at gym class. Avoid stereotyping the abrasive jock loitering the hallway. Tweet someone you’ve never talked to words encouragement when she seems down and ask about her day. Get to know to know them and give them more reasons to love the lives the they have and the people that they are. A simple act of care and kindness will go a long way especially to someone who doubts he’ll ever get any.

You matter.

#depression

I realised.. IM HERE FOR YOU ♡♥♡

One morning I woke up with an unfamiliar material draped securely on my back. It was heavy and cold and it very much resembled a cloak- like in one of those old Hollywood movies. The fabric clung to me like second skin, choking, smothering and weighing me down while it slyly remains invisible to the eyes of even those staring right at me. No matter how hard I fidget, move my body like a convulsing freak, grab at it, try to tear it away from my body with all the strength my man hands could muster, it remains rigid and unrelenting. There are days when I feel the grip tightening, leaving steady marks on my skin that will remind me of how it possessed me for as long as I live.

It’s daunting to admit how much it’s affecting a full grown person with rationality and control. The fear of judgment and ridicule in society where the easiest response would be to ask if the cloak truly exists or if I made it up because I’m either crazy or in CRAZY need of attention. Either way I will be labelled a freak and avoided like a plague or talked to behind my back. To the few who care enough to consider that there MAY be a cloak, they’ll look you from head to toe and when they see no physical manifestations of a life threatening cloak. They walk away claiming that you’re lucky it won’t require surgery. At that moment, I wish it did. Maybe I’ll get more help if people can physically see the pain an invisible cloak is causing me.

You might know the cloak by its common name, depression.

its not fair how i see everyone breathing.

Yes my lovely readers, how timely right? Just as the world is  confused, bewildered and pained by Robin Williams’ death, one caused by this cloak itself, I decide to write about it. Well to be honest this entry was inspired by him. I have been struggling to write anything on this subject for years, ever since I started this blog actually, but I never had the courage, words or inspiration to even start. That changed when I was aimlessly browsing through my twitter feeds and froze on one of the trends. I think we all know which trend it was.

#RIPRobinWilliams

A thousand RTs, skimmed articles and a full blown movie marathon later, I decided I need to write something about this. Screw inhibitions and fear, depression is a real thing and it has to be talked about because more and more people are falling victim to it and very few seem to take it seriously. The most infuriating yet common reaction we get is it’ll pass or get over it. Those are the words of an ignorant person brushing off something purely because he has no clue what it is. The same words that will make the lot of us, already depressed, consider ourselves even bigger freaks than we already think.

I doesnt.

Depression, unlike physical illnesses with very visible manifestations, is often treated as a whim of some attention seeking person who is bored of his own life that’s why he needs to make up some disease that cannot be visually assessed. The truth however is depression gnaws at you from the inside, turning every thought, every memory, every experience into a black hole that sucks the life out of you while you seem completely a-okay on the outside. You feel disabled without the advantage of a parking space. In  two  very cliché words : it sucks.

so fucking true

There is no standard to depression. It varies for each one and I could spend the whole day discussing to you the many kinds but really what those going through this need from you is just one thing, your understanding.

UNDERSTANDING

It may sound so easy, so fundamental in fact but to truly understand someone who goes through that requires for you to suspend your prejudices and preconceived notion fed by some exaggerated movie or oblivious hearsay. We don’t all cut or binge or drink meds or listen to sad songs or plaster a frown on our faces. Often even a smile is the most believable lie one gets to tell. Funny though, almost everyone falls for it. Depression too is not to be stereotyped.

For those still trapped in their cloaks, hang in there and stay strong. Fight to be happy because you’re worth no less. Find comfort in the promise that you’re not alone and somebody on the other end of this screen understands and appreciates you.  I do care and I’ll keep fighting, I’d love for you join me. –winks-

perhaps?

growing old means growing up

Maturity is tricky.

Often I am forced to deal with matters which the juvenile me would rather suppress or run from.Demons that I fear would overpower me once confronted. I convinced myself that if I pretended long enough that they don’t exist or that they’re somehow already fixed, it would just magically be okay.

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 I knew that if I continue with this kind of coping mechanism I’m never gonna grow up. Soon enough my body will be too old and my mind still the same eccentric stubborn 15 year old. I’m never gonna understand why I was wrong or why their wrongs are a worth a second look. I will foster hate in my heart without the promise of any resolution. My fears will get the better of me; they’ll haunt me. The more I deny my problems, my issues and my fears, the more powerful they become.

I refuse to be trapped in Neverland where all hard decision and grueling problems are avoided or bottled up and thrown to the sea. I’m better than that. I know I am. Growing up is understanding that I have problems and although they’re scary and exhausting, facing it is still the best way to move forward.