Having encountered the loss of a loved one just a few months ago, our grief was doubled (no, scratch that, tripled) with events that happened after. To say it was beyond our control is an underestimation. It was well beyond our control, but we are lying in the middle of everything; hence, it is impossible to not be affected by anything. When I think about it, the best description would be collateral damage. We are collateral damage, whether we like it or not.
I cannot quite reveal the details of our circumstances, but what I can say is that it was there all along–gently stewing in the background, promising to pull the rug right from under all our feet. Seven, eight years in the making, I think. With warnings I have explicitly given years ago all unheard, dismissed, and ignored. Now the truth of the reality came biting us all in the ass, and it hurts–losing one loved one physically, and then losing yet another one but this time in terms of trust and the slow burn of hope for a future being extinguished.
In the past decade, I learned to remain firm in my principles. To never exchange my values for things I might regret in the future.
In the past seven, eight years, I learned to take care of other people. To be a loyal supporter of the ones I care about, to be the peacekeeper, to be the grounding matter that will hold everything steady and intact.
In the past five, six years, I learned to take responsibility for my actions, to never utter words that would hurt beyond repair and ones I could never take back. I must only stick with facts, with the truth.
In the past two, three years, I learned to set boundaries and keep them too. Though not perfectly implemented, I tried my best. I am still trying, and it’s one of the most difficult things I have the task of doing. Lately I realized it’s not just me who’s having trouble keeping the lines of personal boundaries clear and distinct. Other people, a relative or not, are having trouble with it too. But how much do we tolerate? How many breaches in boundary is too many?
I do not think of myself as prescient but I like the idea of plans and projections, of goals and possibilities. I guess this is how I was able to give warnings seven, eight years ago. But prescient or not, the fact remains that solutions to problems must be found. Don’t get me wrong, we all have problems. It’s not unique to me, to us. It’s just ours (or mine) I carry like the weight of the world on my shoulders. Enough to bring sleepless nights, or worse, foreboding nightmares.
In the past year, I learned to choose myself, to act based on what makes me happy, to do what is good for me. Sometimes I think it’s selfish, but aren’t we all? Well, maybe I also decidedly learned how to be selfish, that sometimes I must choose myself and be comfortable with my choices. Believe me, it’s not easy.
In the past three months, I learned to keep to myself and silently fight my battles. It was both liberating and restricting. Not anymore feeling obligated to share parts of my life to the world, I feel more free. My time is mine, and mine alone. I get to enjoy things at my own pace, with my heartbreaks and disappointments dealt with more reflection and in private. But my Gemini self also misses the connection with other people. The hard work I’ve put through in establishing a personal, organic brand now on hold because of my personal hiatus.
I’d like to think of these things as temporary, which in a way I guess it is, but it is also a reality I have to accept that what happens now carry on to the future–there’s no escaping that. And the idea of a future so suddenly different and almost always at the tip of a scale, is resurrecting my stomach ulcers.
I guess change can both be good and bad, depending on how we view it. And I’d like to remain level-headed and myself despite everything.
I know this entire post is ambiguous as hell, lol, but bear with me. I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings that need to be expelled.
That’s me for now.