My Black Hole

I really am fearful to share things to people around me, especially that I, myself, don't even understand these things that make me anxious all time. I feel so sad today though I don't know the exact reason why. My life sucked, I guess.

As human as I am, I try to figure out the possible solutions that I may get from the surroundings based from what I see and what I perceive. I may be able to give a solution or a specific answer to every logical form of questioning, but this time, things seem to have gradually changed. 

I don't know if it's pride that swallowed me or what. But since this kind of drama is not allowed in the house, I can't freely express it in front of my loved ones. So, I decided to keep these things inside myself. If I may burst it out unexpectedly, I rather jot them down here in my personal blog. In case, what happens to me, there is an anecdote available for them to read upon. 

Sadness conquers me as I go along each day. A kind of sadness which no doctors nor any scientist could ever heal. And because I don't want the people around me to feel that I am really that sad, I wear my favorite mask to give them an unconditional smile, as if I am really okay. Nothing is going on. 

If they have been that observant, they would notice changes I guess. For example, my sister is now trying to convince me to eat, because I have gradually lost my appetite. And I like the complete silence as I feel the soft tears falling from my two eyes. 

I don't want to sound dramatic to everyone, so I am here writing and silently crying in depths of despair which I really don't understand. I am so sad not because I feel embarrassed to the fact that I am not what the person everyone expected me to have become. 

Well, maybe a part of it devours me and my pride but that does not complete the entirety of the whole sadness that I really truly feel. My boyfriend always remind me to be confident. But I somehow lost it. I do even forget the feeling of true positivism that I had once thought all the time. Every thing's in place except now. 

I really feel I'm a total worthless person. Nothing special. I am like a stone where everyone just either being thrown away or treated as nothing. I am nothing. I wanted to fight this kind of feeling all time, but it seems that there is a black hole, where the entire energy sucked the entire mass of my positive feeling which has affected me in this moment. 

I really don't know what changed people that I truly loved. Am I getting boring? Worthless? It seems like. I don't excite them anymore. I am not that interesting anymore. I am useless. I don't earn that much as everyone does. I don't have that power that once I have had. I don't have that name that gained so much attention. I don't have that "snap" to catch the attention of everyone. I am getting worthless and boring, might as well an uninteresting woman. 

It's okay I guess. I have to accept. I keep these things all alone as I have been trained for. Keep all the dramas with me and let them devour me all throughout. It's up to the people around to figure out. I'm taking the foot steps towards my dungeon, and in that same place I dwell and keep my silent tears, no one could ever hear. 

No dramas outside. Keep them all inside and confidently say "hi" to everyone I meet with my big smile as if nothing is really going on inside me. I will keep that sadness with me, and bury it with me until death. This is my black hole. 

6 Reasons Why I Don't Know What Family Means

Family. Big word. However, it is the basic unit of society. Without it, there would be no community, no society, no nation, no country. Nothing.

What I know about having a family is that these persons belong to this particular circle are the same persons whom you can rely on. You can share everything to these persons whether your bad day or the happiest moment of your life. Everything. You can laugh together with them, or at least can give you comfort especially when one undergoes their respective blues.

Yes, I have a quite nice, small family. I am the eldest. My sister is 17 years old. We should be much closer if you think about it since we are just four in the house. But, unfortunately, we don't.

My parents, yes, they make the rules. They are the masters of the house because they know the absolute truth since they have been to the situations where we are just about to begin undertaking. But what I really don't understand is that why my own parents don't make us feel home.

As I am writing this post right now, tears begin to fall from my eyes. I have to make several pauses as I go along every sentence here to paragraphs. Trying to calm myself.

It may sound odd but I feel jealous to how other family does go along with each other. Children treat their parents as their primary barkadas, considering the parenting sector. That's normal. They should maintain their state as parents to mold us to become better persons. But not necessarily the "total boss" of your life.

1. We never felt comfortable when they are in the house. 

Why? Imagine, we are not allowed to show any form of emotions and any form of disobedience. Or else, you will be scolded like hell. The result? Masochism. We managed to hide this part from them since they don't care anyway - at all. We don't have any outlet to our emotions especially to the daily events at school and to elsewhere we do surround ourselves with.

2. We treat them as our "managers" or "bosses."

When they arrive in the house after work, me and my sister tend to be anxious to how the entire things that exist in the house. Because we do fear that they will scold us from their daily house inspection. From the food they eat to whatever, they are all examined. Yes, I do understand that this is part of discipline. But I really don't like the way we are told. We are like slaves without feelings at all. No power to reason out. If we do, we will be fired out from our so-called "workplace."

3. We don't have to show our "true" self.

They don't like any form of dramas. From my first heart break to failures in exams, etc., they are not supposedly shown to them or else instead of being comforted by our own parents, they scold us, judge us. Instead of listening to what caused our depression, sadness, they tend to say "Why did you do that? Why aren't you able to manage to pass? Are you stupid?" If you hear these words from your own parents amid the blues you are now, do you think you still like to open up with them? I don't think so.

4. We don't express how we really feel about the situation. [We should pretend we are okay.]

Quite interesting that happened today is that I tried to open up what I do feel about the situation we are now to my mother. My boyfriend asked me to ask her to know what they are thinking about. So I did. I tried [with all my courage and strength to do such act.] But I already know how she would respond. And yes, she did. This is also the main reason why I don't open up stuff like this as it would make me sound stupid in their eyes.

If I express what I really do feel, they can really tell me I am that damn stupid to be a dramatic queen.

With our conversation we have today with my mother, she told me even that she is wondering why I am not talking to them anymore.

Observe these conversations.

**Via SMS
"Ma [Filipino way of calling their mother], do you feel proud of us?"
"Yes, we do. We love you."
"Although we do mistakes?"
"What mistakes? Don't tell us that. Stop that."
"Mistakes like I don't have work, I can't manage to help you with the house hold payments, etc. Unable to pay this bill."
"Nah, we will be disconnected from the internet. Why can't I connect to the home phone?"
"There is a dial tone. You can call."

**Via Phone Call, continuation after text messaging. 
"Hallo."
"Why made you say that? Are you in drama again?"
"Yes, I am."
"You should not do that. It's nonsense."
"Why? Am I not allowed to do so? [Why can't I express my emotions here?]"
"See, what happens if you don't read the Bible, go to church. You're thinking stupid now."
"Anyway, just help me pay the bill if we aren't able to make it on time."
"I don't want to have conversations like this. It disturbs my work."
"Okay, fine. Bye."

She jumped out to conclusions without really examining what is really going on inside me. The same thing with my sister when she had back pains. Instead of helping her ease the pain, she scolded her like a "pain in the ass" without bothering at all. She concluded that my sister had that severe back pain because she is too fat. Well, she is bigger than me. But not necessarily the main reason why she still has that same pain until now.

If I would tell her I do feel dizzy like hell, palpitating chest with matching pressure all time, I guess I would end up the same. So, in my case, I kept these secret with her. From the smallest pain to an increasing rate of severity of pain, I am not telling everyone. I have to manage it myself. Anyway, they wouldn't care.

5. We should be nearly "perfect."

For 23 years of existence, I have been trained to be perfect of everything. From every mannerism, the way I smile, the way I should stand, sit, wear my clothes, etc. EVERYTHING. There is no space for mistakes. If there are, always prepare for consequence.

6. We should think of 70% happiness because tomorrow sadness comes. 

This might sound stupid but yes. We are not allowed to laugh in the house. We can but in a minimal manner. We can't say things that loud as it would annoy them. We can't do things we want to do normally in our everyday routines, because it would distract them. And so on. Everything has rules. RULES. RULES. I am getting sick of them.

In general, every house rule is this. As kids, when you are still living under the roof of your parents, you should follow their rules all time. But in this situation, what should I do?

After living this kind of roof for more than 20 years now, I have countless times thinking about suicide. Several masochistic acts to seek inner pleasure. Others would label it as an "exaggerated drama series."  The most recent is when I tried to do painful and hard rubbing of a dead pen.

I don't know how exactly a family means. Is it about the quantity of things you are able to provide to them or the quantity of emotional intelligence (EQ) you can give? I guess there should be balance.

I am grateful to have them as my parents in terms of being able to be the great providers. But, not really as persons whom I can rely on in terms of emotional need. Without my boyfriend and my sister as my support, to whom should I seek to? No one else except my God.

"Calm After The Storm"

No matter how much I think that I am the most unfortunate person in the world just because I don't have everything my heart desires, yet, there are things that fill them onto these gaps that marked my whole individuality.

There are inevitable circumstances wherein the turn of events are unexpected. There are also times that you can predict them afterwards. However, almost majority of what I have experienced are otherwise.

It won't matter, I know, how much I see the world as ruthless as it could be, but these same things that revolved around me for some time now have been one of the most important things I possess. They may sound negative in everyone's eyes, but they are quite a strength for me.

I even seemed to have dual personality in this matter as I have perceived life in two different dimensions that affected that way I behave, too. On this side, I am the strong-willed woman, too independent whom everyone could really depend on. But that won't be the same for the opposite side. There is a portion of me that I can't easily leave behind. Or maybe, I can swallow the fact that I find it really hard to lose them.

In every storm, there is a sunny day thereafter. But the moment the storm comes, everything's too dark and cold. One may see it as a weakness and troublesome. But for me, in my case right now, instead of making it as one big weakness, why not use it as a strength to shield myself to this wild, wild world. Anyway, there would be sunny day coming in just a short span of time.

When somebody asks me to stop thinking over these things over and over again, I usually say, "I don't know" especially when they are asking me why I do so. Hurting myself, somewhat practicing masochism to seek pleasure and comfort. Just like what I did last night.

If I try to see the marks in my hand where I used a dead pen to strike my wrist, I just see the red spot. No wound, but deffo I feel discomfort [a bit]. I really don't understand myself why I do these stuff over and over again. I even ask Google about it and seek help through some itty-bitty information available in the world wide web.

Depression. Dysthemia. Chronic depression. Major depression. A lot of words are stated. But still confused what exactly this feeling is after some time, some years. I am not even sure when it all started.

A strong woman like with an independent sense and thinking to the world filled with deep mysteries and journeys, I am now trapped to this kind of situation where I needed support, love, comfort, care, to the extreme level from everyone.

If I would have been in the same situation around two years ago, maybe I have done my most stupid move. Suicide.

But because I have all the great people and my God with me giving me all their protection, love, and care, I wasn't and I cannot do it. I cannot take the path of taking my own life just because life has been that harsh to me since then. I will just take the fact in a different angle. Again, a source of inspiration and strength to where I am heading to.

These terrible experiences I am right now molded me to become one of the most inspiring persons amongst. Whenever I meet a friend, when they see me again, they immediately could remember how I inspired them in the last few years of being with me. They keep on thanking me for such great words I said to them. Right now, they are even beyond my level. They are now on the top spot. Earning higher than me. Living the dreams they ever desired.

Though they may seem to forget me now, but thinking how much  I have helped them and to where they are placed now, I will just be happy and contented to what I have contributed to their own lives.

Because of these little things, it would be stupid to take my esteem to decline just because of these people I have helped before. I made them. Now, should I be angry? Foolish.

In this moment, I am thinking about how I can dwell to my future with my future family with my future husband, whom I really love and adore. I am so proud of him. Why? There are tons of reasons. But the first thing is really sure, he is so, so, so, so patient with me in this. I can never look for somebody who could such like he does to me. He is one of the reasons why I keep on driving myself to be a strong woman with utmost positivism possessed.

With my own flaws and glitches, I accept myself as I am. Though it will take me more time to erase all of these bad feelings inside. God's time will tell and in His way. I am looking forward to it. May God bless me and the people around me especially my loved ones to keep us strong and alive with love, comfort, care, trust, encouragement, and above all faith.

Ad majorem dei Gloriam.



**I used the title "Calm After The Storm" by The Common Linnets. You can search the whole song through this links below

Song Text of "Calm After the Storm"
Official Video of the "Calm After The Storm"

Mecyll's Note #2

This is really funny. To think that I am making my blog like a diary entry. Seems like.
Well, anyway. This is my second note. From the first one, I talked about a bit of a sneak preview from the entire stuff I wish to write about.

**From here, I don't know what to write about. Pause.

Suffering. Let me talk about this. Forgetting this word sounded like I will get to seek a psychiatric help afterwards. I am asking myself several times, why do I have to suffer like this deeply. Living that kind of shitty life of a fairy tale built by the elder ones you look up to since birth. However, when the reality speaks of itself, I really cannot believe that what they have told me are all shit.

I may sound like a childish, immature woman right now, but experiencing this one several times makes me feel sick. All my life I believe that when I just have to do my best to claim my top spot will pave the way to my success in life. For my future. But it doesn't sound the same with my reality.

I am hurt. In different unique ways. Several times. Many times. A thousand times. I have no idea when it would end unless I kill myself. But I guess I don't have the right to give in as I don't have the power to take away my life unless God intends me to. However, slowly, if this continues, it might be true.

I already did attempted several times in years. In three different times and situations. Somehow, the half of me is saying that "Hey, you should not take your life. It's God's right. Only Him can take it in His own time and way." Yet, the other speaks a bit loud of doing it again.

I am so hurt where no one cares and understands. Because I fear to be judged, I chose to keep my stance in silence and keep these things within myself. I spoke up with several close ones, but neither of them yet to understand how I really do feel and think as of this moment.

I saw several coffins today, making me think about death. A lot of people standing around in grief. I wonder when these dead people were alive, were they around to listen to them? Maybe, otherwise. People live life in most regrets than gratitude anyway.

They will only feel the total regret if that someone dies. If that will be me, would everyone come to my coffin and cry? When I was alive, would they do? Did they even care to what I feel?

I guess I don't even have the right to have fun and express myself in my deepest thoughts. Unleashing them will be a hassle for everyone. I am naturally a jealous girl. Let's take that an example. Let's say, I will let them see that, I know for sure, they will prevent it by saying it stupid. So, before saying so, I often say, "disregard..."

I feel neglected. Worthless. Wearing my mask all time. So no one would see how extremely sad I am right now. But, is there anyone who would listen? No one. I always live to beg and swallow my pride. And even forget that I am still alive by killing myself step by step is the best way to keep everyone happy.

I envy those people with people who could really understand them and who will be really with them in times of need. Having someone you can really depend on. But in my case, I am usually independent. No one is actually there. I am used to it.

Well, anyway, I am trained to keep things under my control. So, keeping everything to myself is the best idea I could do. Right now, I am still keeping this extreme sadness.

Everything's mixed up. Everyone is getting their MAs, ranks, promotions. I am here waiting for not granted promises. Unemployed. Earning low. No savings.

What else could I think about? Others may think I am selfish to think about these things, but I guess I should just accept that the words "fun" and "enjoy" are not for me.

I did what I could possibly do to make other people happy. Sacrificed my wants and desires for life for what they seemed to prefer me to do. But neither I feel they did something back for me. Unfair, isn't it? Well, that's my life.

Mecyll's Note #1

I don't know where to start everything. I even don't know why I am writing right now after months of not doing so. Maybe, I just wanted to talk with someone but everyone's seems so busy with their own stuff. I don't want to intend to disrupt any of their of pre-planned activities for the entire day.

I just wanted to write to express everything -- I guess not yet, as of now, as my emotions are getting in its peak. Rushing and gushing through my system, which sometimes I cannot even fathom. Everyone's not noticing them, well, of course, they're just inside my system, so they will really won't notice unless they are not totally observant.

It has been weeks since I have this kind of depressing feeling. I don't even know why, to what probable cause this provoked. I guess it all started years ago, when I did attempted to cut my wrist and wished to die at any single moment back then.

During those times, I was in total procrastination. My self-proclaimed topnotch rank made everyone think that I am that willed, strong woman. However, deep inside I am a weakling, ugly duckling. So weak. Behind those prowess that everyone knows, is a baby crying so loud. Powerless.

My life seemed to be in riddles, which sometimes piss me off. Since most of the time, as intellectual as I am, I can't figure out what makes every thing work -- especially those things that revolve around me. From every single speck of doing, I don't even know why I am doing those things.

My entire life sounded like a total ridicule. Stupid. Fated to be in total chaos. It really sounded like that. If I tell everyone my real situation, no one would listen. Instead, they will even tell me that "Come on, it's already years back! Just forget them."

Yes, it sounded simple. But no one really understands how I really do feel about it. Yeah, it is really as simple as like that. I could just forget things unnecessary. But you know, when it remains unsolved, it will always come back over and over again.

Until now, I still do feel it. I feel like I am in total darkness where no one listens. There would be one, I don't know if they really do. All this time, I feel I am in the room alone. Alone in this dark room where no one cares.

Actually, I don't understand myself. Sometimes, I just think that maybe this is out of my extreme moodiness or whatever. However, at most times, I am depressed.

I just cry all over. Repeatedly especially when I am in the comfort room. As the name says, "comfort." Hoping that by stepping to it, I will feel comfort. But actually not. It's just the same shit and lame.

I don't know how to express things except crying, crying, crying. Hoping somebody would understand how I really do feel right now. For weeks.

I don't want to seek death at the end. Maybe it is not the answer to these. Hope someone would help me ease all these.

After University Life: Nostalgia After Two Years, What Have I Learned?

After two years since I graduated in college, I got my yearbook, my graduation photos, and all those stuff included in the almost 4k package (requirement to graduate actually). I got my yearbook first months ago, and yesterday, my photos in pack that came with a mug and a sort of flag or whatever in cardboard. Well, I am not talking much about these things. My experiences were then seemed like a nostalgia for me.

I went to the university [campus] once again for several times since months. But, every time I go in from the security, and take my footsteps in the hallway, I always remember several things that happened in this university after a long time. All the memories were recalled. Everything. From the bad to good student life were re-experienced once again.

Whenever I hear the laughter in groups, I remember how my life was as a student. Behind these laughter were big struggles earning higher grades from Nazi professors. This is really true especially to those scholars alike. I was a scholar. So, I really know how it feels like to do much sacrifices in order to impress every class instructor to get good grades [to maintain the scholarship].

Love. Another thing to remember. A cool thing about it is whenever I experience downs before, I always go to the chapel. And there in the pews, I silently cry. This is the only place where I could really express myself freely away from the people. Seriously, I don't want other people to see me crying. Because for me, crying is a symbol of weakness. Well, that was before, when I used to wear the best mask of pretense.

I closed my eyes in the pews once again after two years. Amid silence, I could still clearly remember what I prayed in front of the cross. "Lord, why do I have to experience this kind of pain? Would there be a man who would treat me like a queen or at least, a woman? Would there be a big possibility a man would love me and accept for who I am and willing to accept my flaws and downfalls? Would there be a man to exist who would really love me deeper than the Pacific?"

During that time, I just hear silence. I cried once again as I recall it. Because although I am in the same pew where I sat two years ago, there I was again, in teary-eyes, I said my prayer, "Lord, thank you for giving me such a man who would do everything for me. A man who would really love me for who I am and a man who would respect me and accept my whole love for him. A man who would really love me back and will never let me fall down and left behind. He may be stupid, I would be more stupid to let him go."

It sounds romantic. Yes, it is. Lesson learned here. Wait.
I have to wait for to years to know him. I felt my terrible heartache in 2012, and fell in love again in two years time. 2014 for me is the best year.

I learned to love. Above all, I learned to trust again and to commit. I played men before. Now, my views have changed.

Wait. Right now, I am waiting again. When would I able to meet him in person?
When would I be with him and stay with him? When would I be able to help him in his plans for us? When?

I will wait. Best things come in God's timing.

How To Explore More For Your Self-Discovery: Ways to Make it Possible

Self-discovery comes along in a very unexpected manner. Nothing about life has been more interesting except when something unplanned just happens to you. This same thing also becomes a channel to the pathway where you did not expect that it will go along like that.

This seems weird for you if you try to think about it. But then again, life is filled with several possibilities and opportunities that no one expects they are going to occur at least once in your life. You ever wanted to be this, but that other one happens. It may have resulted to a heavy drama of yours but surely if you just try to embrace these changes, it will surely come out so fruitful and joyful all throughout the years.

Personally, I have never expected that being an artist will become something that I will become passionate about. However, I have already loved sketching anything in my piece of paper. Since I was a young girl, I really love to draw and draw and draw. Everyone in the family knows that. But because of the heavy demands of academic achievement in the family, I chose to forget that passion and drove myself to something else. Because this is what I should do and not wasting my time for something I cannot benefit from it.

That was my kind of thinking since years then. That continued until I graduated in college. Albeit the fact that I have not received flying colors when I finished my studies at 20 years old, still I did make a lot of achievements for the last 16 years of focused study. Yes, I did what the society wanted me to do and achieve. Absolutely, I felt really good. Then, the usual, as a fresh graduate, I needed to have a job. So, I applied to a lot of jobs both online and office. I gathered around 50 resumes, but still no work.

Depressing times of my life came, until I landed to a small school and taught there for a year. There, my field of expertise, the talking, the teaching, the drawing, and all those stuffs that I am required to do were all set and challenged. But then, though I have already thought about achieving all of these things after 23 years of my life, as I looked backwards, there still something lacking.

Yes, I did forgot my passion. Arts.

Currently, I am working as an online Game content writer in one of big websites, part-time. So, I have enough time to do stuffs that I needed to do and earn at home while doing the artistic stuff that I ever love to do.

Through the help of my family and my ever-supportive boyfriend, I was able to re-define myself more and more each day. Amid the doubts that covered my whole self about my capacity of doing it, I have never thought that being in love with my passion is something that I could also earn, too.

Just some months ago, I started to try making journals the first time. It was hard. I watched tons of tutorial videos via YouTube and learned itty-bitty of their methods of making them every day. While doing so, it required so much patience from me. And because it was my first time, I still did not know the measurements and whatever needed for such estimation needed for each of the journals I made. But still, they looked good.

I tried selling them piece by piece. I was still doubtful if I could really able to sell them. Yet, with the help of my sister, I was able to make several pieces of journals every day and sold them to her friends and classmates at school. All of their feedback are more of "Nice, cute, make more." These words really sparked me much more. Even my family loved them much, although they doubted my ability to be the next Hallmark and Sterling in the future for me. My boyfriend, who was also an artist himself loved what I make [not because he loves me, but objectively assessed].

Because of these remarks, I continue to make more and more and more journals. Later on, I created them label to acknowledge my work. "La Simero." This is the sample business name that my sister used for her projects. Then I used it for my journals and online selling.

Slowly, I am able to sell them. The kind of determination and persistence were reaped and all the efforts I did to every speck of the details of these journals are made with love and passion. This is something that I really loved to do.

As the day passes by, I already think about exploring more about my artistic capacities and think about of that particular thing that I forgot during the last years. Arts. And I will go back to it again. This is my road to a new self-discovery.

For those who are interested to have a look for my journals made, you can see me though the following

Facebook: La Simero journals
Twitter: @Lasimero
Tumblr: LaSimeroHandmade

Contact me through:
Blog: This blog. Leave a comment or message
Email: lasimerohandmade@gmail.com

To have a look of the first set of videos that I have watched for my journal making, you can search Sea Lemon's official YouTube page through these links below:

How To Make A Sketchbook: Coptic Stitch
How To Bind Single Sheets: Bookbinding Tutorial
Perfect Binding Tutorial

Have fun to an artistic self-discovery, folks!