bipolar saturday

i finally made the connection. there's a pattern after all, between my sleepless nights and all the events that lead up to it. first is that thought. then comes the restlessness. then comes the binging. then the nail-biting (i know. it's an old, bad habit). then for sure.... it will be 4am and i'll be in my dark room, watching the nat geo channel, hoping to tire myself out and have some semblance of slumber before "waking" for work a few hours later.

first, the thought.

it crept up upon me all of a sudden, typical really of such despicable things. it was a quiet day at work and i had already finished all the tasks delegated to me. i was in the process of turning my attention to my design work when, i guess, during the shift, i found myself lingering on that thought, memories and emotional residue as i term them. it started with a look, then an introspection, then before i knew it, i was simmering already in hurt. that was when i felt the bitter aftertaste.

it's never easy to be honest to oneself, or so i think. it's never comfortable to acknowledge that you're actually not ok, when all this time you have been convincing yourself that you are fine. you spend so much time trying to convince yourself that you are strong and you are unaffected, even indifferent. you believe this and for a time, really feel like you are swell... then moments like this come along and prove that you have been wrong all this time. repression used to work for me, that was until my physical body decided enough is enough. i get lethargic despite having long sleep. i break out in lesions and bleed. my appetite gets depressed. my endurance runs low. i get fevers every night. i suffer severe insomnia.

i would think i have been a creature raised to lick and tend to his own wounds. i somehow have this impression that it is shameful to show one's weaknesses. the world is a vicious place and despite my meek demeanor, i act on a quiet aggressiveness to achieve perfection, or at least, the image of it, in order to survive. it's tiring work, exhausting me often to the last of my stores. you try to ease on yourself but that program has been ingrained far too deep to allow you to slack off, even if you hear yourself screaming for help already. i would like to think that people, good, kind people, sense this conflict in me, and their kindness would often reach out. i however, fail to connect with them, worse yet, even shun the offers for help and instead muster a misleading, faint smile. it satisfies the need to think that i am ok and in need need of assistance, but it also hints on my true, crippled state.

(sigh)

ayoko na ng ganito.

hurting is a familiar feeling. but it should not be the only feeling. healing should be a feeling i should know as well.

i felt cheated, but it was due to my own foolishness. i have inner resentment, but it's just me passing the blame. this is the price of wisdom. this is what it feels to reinforce and build character.

i had a great conversation with two very good people last night. one over YM, the other through texting. one providing an inflow, the other an outflow. both of which were enriching to the soul. to these two, thank you very much.

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found this in chuvaness and made me happy and teary at the same time.