It has been a week. No, nearly a week when a simple message initially brought me to cloud nine and just a few days ago, ultimately led to downfall. From rainbow heaven I was knocked out and thrown down an emotional pit: hollow, dark, impenetrable by any ray of hope. I cupped my bulging belly with my two hands. No, I’m not expecting, I am just fat. What as straightforward term, I told myself. Mom then saw me on their bed, sprawled like some helpless bird, wounded by a gunshot straight to the heart. She asked if I was sick; I replied with an uncharacteristic whisper: Stomach ache, I suppose. She eventually left much to my relief and I remained there, with no energy… no will to move.
Then I felt that my hands were cold. Dead-cold, I might even say, against the soft, protruding abdomen. I hate my adipose. They ruined my figure, rendered some clothes unfit, and could not even provide the monosaturated energy I need. No energy, no will to move… or live. My mind purposely stashed the despicable idea away, locked it into some secret vault within the unconscious. Pride told me, “Look at the mirror. Look at your medals, your certificates. Look at your friends’ contact details on your phone.” The being within wanted me to chant “I’m not desperate, I’m not desperate, I’m not desperate” over and over.
I tried using various mechanisms: rationalization, intellectualization, fantasy, reaction formation, passive aggression, what-have-you. Ms. Rational sang “I’m Gonna Find Another You” and “I Will Love Again”. Prof. Intellect dissected every FB message, status, post, text message, experience, memory to come up with a conclusion about what happened. Little Ms. Fantasy countered Ms. Rational with “I Believe” while Madame RF just LOL’ed about me fussing over romantic infatuation, well in her thoughts, though. I did not move a muscle even though I still need to fix my room and eat breakfast and drink Neozep. I had maximized my memory’s cognitive load, I presumed, and couple it with some sort of conflicting emotions on their peak level, my mind decided to shut down.
I woke up… it was just an hour-long sleep. I could not even call it sleep. At least it saved my sanity again.
I continued with life. Minutes became hours, hours dragged to days. I felt eerily empty. Aimless. Purposeless. Nonetheless I countered it with party-people music blasting from my earphones, online job-hunting, serving coffee to my father and eldest brother, and reading fanfiction and magazines downloaded from the Internet.
Now, it is the battle between the Aquarius and the Pisces in me.
Stop crying, you crybaby, you’re being overly dramatic again!
I just want to sulk, listen to sappy music and spend the day writing in my two journals (Gasps! Two journals.)
You can’t do anything, don’t hope anymore, just freakin’ move on. Hello, there’s workplace, Grad school, or whatever!
I don’t trust them. Can we still remain friends, then?
Hell, yeah, friends, it’s very important, indeed. But there’s no way we’re gonna bow down or throw our pride with being an option-
No, we are not. We’ll just have to try and then maybe the feelings will become mutual and reciprocal.
Again, we’re not an option, or back-up. Let the man get over the woman before hitting on us.
He’s not like that. You know that. I’ll wait. Will you?
NO! Life’s so good and fast-paced. Don’t get stuck in there. Please? Don’t waste yourself.
I’m not, I’m just being open to the possibility of him coming.
ALRIGHT. I, on the other hand, will be open to the opportunity of someone new walking into our life.
The two selves reconciled and reached an agreement on how to deal with it.
It has been whatever days and whatever hours and whatever minutes since I got the first bitter taste of karma in my life. It was a milestone, a first, a world record, that the one who throws others out was thrown out instead. Thrown, was a euphemism, still. I should be the one who did it, not that person. Knocked you down, according to Keri Hilson.
Nevertheless, I am a Bobo doll: hit me and I retaliate. I can never be brought down unless you shoot me with something sharp, of course I’ll deflate.
But, then again, it’s a lesson that I must digest, reluctantly, a bitter pill to swallow. I will not always get what I want, that at times I must learn to let go and move on. It might come back, someday. That I can be a person for all (reminded me of Ateneo’s motto) if as for the moment I cannot be a person for one.
At least it will cure me of Boa Hancock’s disease. In time.
expecting – pregnant
adipose – fat tissue
rationalization – formulation of convenient excuses – making excuses.
intellectualization – a form of isolation; concentrating on the intellectual components of a situation so as to distance oneself from the associated anxiety-provoking emotions; separation of emotion from ideas; thinking about wishes in formal, affectively bland terms and not acting on them; avoiding unacceptable emotions by focusing on the intellectual aspects
fantasy – tendency to retreat into fantasy in order to resolve inner and outer conflicts.
reaction formation – converting unconscious wishes or impulses that are perceived to be dangerous into their opposites; behavior that is completely the opposite of what one really wants or feels; taking the opposite belief because the true belief causes anxiety.
passive aggression – aggression towards others expressed indirectly or passively such as using procrastination.
cognitive load – exceeding the capacity of the cognitive load leads to the famous “information overload”
fanfiction – fictional stories created by fans using characters from a manga, anime, cartoon, movie, etc.
Aquarius and Pisces – I was born on the Aquarius-Pisces cusp/ Cusp of Sensitivity. Imagine Rational and Emotional as twins.
Knocked You Down by Keri Hilson http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_RqWocthcc
Bobo doll –an inflatable plastic doll used in the research of aggression. The doll provides reinforcement for acts of physical aggression against it. When punched, the eyes light up and marbles are dispensed from the dolls stomach. The sole purpose of a Bobo doll is to bounce back up when knocked over; but it does not do this on its own strength. Instead, the center of gravity works in restoring the Bobo doll back into a standing position. Image: http://thepauls.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/bobodoll.jpg
Boa Hancock’s disease – or Love sickness. It is a particular disease that seems to be contracted by the empresses of the Kuja tribe in the manga/anime, One Piece. This happens when they fall in love with a man. If they suppress their emotions, then it weakens them and eventually leads them to death. This disease killed many Kuja empresses in the past. It is unknown if the illness can be contracted by normal Kuja citizens. In order to cure the disease, the empresses must accept their emotions and follow the loved one.
Posted from WordPress for Android