February 14, 15, and 22.

Today is Valentine's Day, 2015.

I have stayed for almost a year at my job. That, I consider an accomplishment, as it's been so hard to look for a good job you like, much less tolerate. To be honest, things are still confusing where I work because of the company transition. So many people are laid off and so many leave on their own too. The rest are on their toes. It seems only top management can really keep their head together--they know they're almost indispensable.

I feel mostly disrespected at my job. Yes, the people are approachable and you can ask for their help and they will help you most of the time. However, I feel like second class. Actually, in the eyes of the higher ranking employees, I feel like garbage. Sometimes I feel like I'm being treated and viewed as garbage, too. I don't really blame them for thinking that way; this isn't Agency life. This isn't PR. I feel demoralized here (it was much worse in my second job, though). People like to powertrip sometimes and put so much importance on the power of their positions. I can't do much about it; I'm seen as small fry. I know I'm not the only... "small fry", but I'm the only affected one. I know I'm not what they think I am; I can do so much more. Now I realize I'd rather be trusted too much, be given hard projects because they believe in me and because they know that despite how hard it can be, I can do it... than not be given challenging (not even the super easy ones) tasks because I'm considered "too junior".

Today is Sunday, February 15, 2015.

Anyway, I've had the most wonderful holidays for the longest time and today I am glad that I did. Miles* spent Christmas and New Year's Day with me and met most of the relatives important to me. Grandma really liked him and this time I'm sure she's sincere about it and not just being polite. We've had a few nasty issues when he was here that made me reconsider my relationship with him. I was so scared and I still am, but I'm just playing things by ear for now.

When we went to Boracay with my parents last January, he proposed to be while we were out sunset sailing. I've never loved an island before and I've never loved the thought of a vacation as much as I did after Boracay. We had so much fun, despite the island beingless than perfect. I had such high expectations that they weren't completely met; haha. Nonetheless, I loved it there. Nobody cared what you did or wore or who you were with... except us. We had started playing a game where we tried to identify golddigging women who were with foreign men. I'm pretty sure that we were identified as such sometimes... but I'm fine just knowing they had to take a good long stare or a second look because they weren't sure.

Now, looking forward, my parents and I plan to visit Miles' family in Florida in November. That was 10 months from when we considered it. At the moment, my dad is still not over it and freaked out a lot when we announced the engagement. I felt so bad for him; he was drinking and crying to my mom and I wish I could comfort him and instead make him see how it's actually such a good thing. He knows it is; he just didn't want me to be away from them—it's one of the things he hates the most. I'm sure mom was sad, I was finally at “that level” and ready to leave the nest. However, she was also taking it fine, so I'm confident she will be good for dad whenever I leave. I wish he would be happier that I will start a better life even when I don't see them physically everyday, because I'm finally starting to build my future with decisions that will make it significantly brighter and better.

I was looking forward to all that. There's actually more to what's been happening recently, but right now, the most pressing matter than stirred us around was the news Dad and I found out on Valentine's day, 2015. After showing signs of sickness for about 4 months, dad brought Mom to the hospital to be confined. On Valentine's day, I was scheduled to stay with Mom at the hospital. Dad was updating me on the procedure they were going to do and was telling me to hurry and come over. I was scared and hoped they didn't find anything, but hope slapped me in the face. They did find something, and it was bad. Dad took it... badly. So did I. No details on that.

All I can say is I hope the pain she's feeling will just go away... but we still have around a couple of days for the test results. For now, all she can do is bear with the pain, gas filling up her stomach. She can't eat or drink yet, so it's uncomfortable for her. But Dad and I have been doing our best to make her as comfortable as possible. We spoiled her with love and attention and support, with all our might. I haven't stopped and I never will. Once all three of us get through this, Dad and I will take care of her; we'll all take good care of each other from now on.

I stayed with her all day at the hospital yesterday and she was exhausted because the pain went on and on all day and it was such bad pain. I wish I could just take all of the pain at least; something, anything bad on her body that's been making her miserable so she can go back to being healthy and happy. That's all I want. I know I would be so scared of the pain and I wouldn't be able to take it, but anything's better than seeing my dearest loved ones in pain.

When Dad arrived late at night, he took over and I felt like I turned to mush from staying perfectly solid all day... and was glad I could somehow recharge or share the job with him so that we can preserve our energy and work together in giving them to Mom. But that night while I was sleeping/trying to sleep I heard things and I felt lost again. I knew I needed to be stronger, I am training myself, because it's not just for Mom but Dad too. They need me, and I need them. We will be drawing strength from each other so the set-up for now is for Dad and I to be strong, gather strength from one another and offer each other strength; then getting additional strength from our other loved ones.

Dad and I took a quick run to the house to grab a few more things and had time to talk on the way back. It was because my head was hurting so bad. I wasn't tired; even though I haven't been eating properly and sleeping. It was all the... feelings that have physically found their way up to my head. I was feeling faint and like I was about to burst after Dad and I left Grandma's house; so then I let it out on him. When he let it out, too, I was the first to stop to make him snap out of it. There were things he spoke about that reached out to me with the way he said them; we talked about each other's fears and hopes and dreams and I guided him towards planning for our next steps to keep him grounded. It was hard for me and I expected he would be the one taking charge but I managed to make him take charge with me. That's a good start.

I've been reaching out to friends and my close family members for words of strength because I don't know when the shock will leave me. But whenever I'm with Mom somehow I find strength and somehow I remain sturdy because I want her to trust me completely and rely on me. And somehow, I think she does. I now just need Dad to do the same, to be able to command the bad stuff inside her to get up and leave her alone forever.

I also talked to Dad about fixing my relationship with my half-sister. This time, for some reason, I was okay with it. I had always been against doing anything that has to do with her, but something about my dad's words was convincing this time.

It's February 22, 2015.

All throughout the day of February 16, my mom was in pain. Her stomach was so much bigger than the past couple of days and it scared us, because the stomach could burst. We waited in pain 'til noon because she was scheduled for operation in the afternoon of the 17^th. We went through so much and we were terrified over and over again because her stomach felt like it was going to burse and dark colored liquid was coming out of her stomach through her NGT. When she hugged my dad and I and told us to take care of each other, I wanted to pass out. I had been in contact with all of my relatives, including those in the UK and the US, and my cousin got in touch with her brothers and whoever she could get a hold of to donate blood to my mom. My cousin rushed here with his girlfriend and my aunt and uncle came along—thank God. Mom needed blood transfusion before going under the knife and the fact that we weren't getting any blood really kept us on our toes.

The doctor at the blood extraction laboratory was being a real demon as well. He wasn't accommodating, refused to take my cousin's blood because, according to him, it should be taken in the morning (it was morning...). My cousin got so pissed his blood pressure went up, and he got disqualified as a donor. My mom found out and panicked and told us to call this politician connected with the Red Cross. Thank God he woke up from the text. He responded quickly and my cousin drove to the RC to get three bags of blood.

When the surgeon arrived on the 17^th, he cancelled everything he had that day for my mom's stat operation. Dad and I were still scared because her red blood cells and albumin levels were still low and it was dangerous for her to undergo operation. We prayed hard and when my other relatives came, we were somehow consoled a little. My grandma was also there—she was so calm and awesome to look at. Her face was bright; and despite knowing what she now knows, she had a pleasant and peaceful demeanor about her. Before my mom went into the OR, I told her to focus on what she wanted to do in the future—to pick one thing she was looking forward to and hold on to it. I was talking about my future daughter. I told her to imagine a baby she was going to take care of.

When she went in, my dad started bawling again. I wish he would someday be brave enough to get a hold of himself... but I know how he feels, and I feel so bad about how scared he is. We went back into mom's room with my relatives and gathered there while we waited for the operation to end. My relatives were forcing me to sleep; I haven't had any because I needed to get my mom through days and nights of intense pain. I didn't mind at all and I wanted to; I wanted her to stay strong until we get to the next steps. When I look back on all of that now, I realize my dad was a bigger mess than I am... or mom. He's been all over the place and needs me just as much as my mom does. They basically share the same level of pain and illness; just showing it differently.

After over five hours, we got a call from the OR. They asked dad to come down. He immediately asked me to go along, and one of my Aunts offered to escort us as well. She knew. I'm so glad she and my other relatives knew my dad and I were at our lowest low and stayed with us. I cried so hard when they showed us the mass. I didn't look. I couldn't. I was scared of it. It was huge... no wonder my mom was in such pain. He said it looked malignant and the stage looks about 2-3. My heart broke for the thousandth time... I thought I was going to die. I was so afraid... to be honest I still am, and I think I always will be. I feel like I was running out of people, of things to hold on to. Especially hope. Yes, she was going to be okay... but what is the extent of that?

She was back in the room after staying at the recovery room for about 2 hours. My relatives went home after the operation. I was so grateful to them and I will forever be... they were such a powerful bunch... especially my grandma. She was inspiring. She lighted up the room.

I ran to anyone and everyone who sat and listened to me. I made a new friend; a girl I went to college with for four years but was never close with. All the while, they—but especially my new girl friend (Zoe*) and a guy friend (Ray*), both into their faith and draw strength from it—told me that God will save us. Call me a hypocrite for being so into modern, radical, New Age-y spirituality because now I am more Christian than anything else. I don't want to call myself that, though. I still feel New Age, but I am working on getting closer to God again and trusting Him with everything I have. I really felt that He was the one who got us through the operation, and the pain before that. While we are waiting for the histopath results on the 24^th, I have to believe that my mom is cured. She is healed. And that no matter what the future brings, God will provide and good will prevail.

Zoe went to the hospital to visit me the day after mom's operation. I thought it was really sweet and I felt so embarassed she went all the way here to see me. She brought two friends with her, both of those friends go to this assembly for a morning prayer near the hospital where mom's confined at. They invited me to go afterwards, which I would love to do, if only the place was more accessible. They were such strong women. They were going through things as well but they had the strength to pass on some energy to me... and it made me question why they were doing it. What do they get from it? Why would they pray over me? They were meeting me for the first time. How can they smile despite the heavy shit they were going through?

I always lose grip on what's important, every now and then—and that's my faith in God. I held on to Him, gave it all up to Him right before mom's operation—but it wasn't giving up. It was only then that my mom was relieved. I thought I had been lifting everything up to God before then, but I haven't been. The truth is, I was still relying on my own energy and power, and my loved ones'. Not God. I need to keep doing that, because I know that God wants me to. For some reason, despite how bad I can be as a person, I found a way to shamelessly cling to Him. I just knew He had already forgiven me and that He will take care of things. That's something my dad needs to work on—he feels so unworthy; he feels punished. He is afraid because he feels this is karma workin against him. Perhaps it is; but never mind that... what's more important at the moment is for him to accept himself, forgive himself and love and appreciate himself so that he would understand that God will be there for him. He needs to trust in God so that he can lift the weight off his shoulders and help me and mom get through this big challenge.

Learning that the sickness started more than 10 years ago and understanding exactly what caused it broke me again. Mom now explained in detail how she felt at the time (her world ended) and I don't know how I could've handled it. I would've ran away... but she stayed because of me. I keep on looking back on so many things that could've saved her, that could've made things different. There were so many instances and it drives me crazy knowing if only one of us pushed harder, things wouldn't end up this way. I am so obsessed with processes and looking back on what went wrong and what could've been done and it gives me headaches because obviously it can't be undone and redone. But now, I know what to do... at least for myself... if I can still save myself.

Keep doing what I'm doing and not change. At the first definite sign of danger, run. Don't stay. Don't look back. I won't regret that I am not sick. Nothing is worth it if you yourself aren't happy. Other people's happiness aren't your happiness—never. Your happiness is yours. If you are as happy as the people you love, then that is happiness. But you need to put yourself first—it isn't selfish—if you love your loved ones. How can you love others when you don't love yourself? How can you take care of other people if you don't take care of yourself? How can you make others happy if you're not happy? The truth is, you can't. Virtually, yes. But it's not real. It's not real if, while you're doing it, you're destroying yourself.

This happened and we can't turn back time to undo it, so we just have to face it and fight. Right now, we are still very broken inside, but mom, dad and I need to work from the inside out (starting with ourselves) to beat this thing. God will guide us every step of the way, and our loved ones will always be beside us, helping us. But real power will come from within. I believe that.

It pained me a lot when, at one point, I got upset because an aunt told us what she felt about the mass that was taken out of mom. Mom and dad saw me get upset and were crushed! Their BPs went all the way up and it felt as if, if I gave up, they will too. Now, I know. I can never give up. The reason they kept hanging on was because I was the conduit of all the energies we were receiving from all directions, including God. It put a lot of pressure on me, but now I have accepted the responsibility. I also mustn't let it bother me or stress me out. I was doing well; I impressed my parents. For the first time, I pleasantly surprised them with something I didn't know I had—strength. They suddenly believed I was capable of anything... their daughter, who didn't go after extracurricular activities, didn't get good grades even when she tried, didn't even try to be an achiever in anything... who did most things half-assed or halfheartedly or halfway and then just left them...

Yeah, they are right. I'm fucking useless in so many things. But now that I found out I have something strong, something special that not a lot of people have, I feel empowered. I just need to work on accepting myself more, probably, and trusting in God more. Yeah, I'm scared. Yeah, we're all broken. There are more bumps ahead and it won't be a breeze going through all this. But we have God. No matter what, we will fight. All of us. God is with us... we'll beat this thing. No matter what, she will fight. And she will win. I already know it. Victory is ours.

-Lilith

Lilith: warming up to my blog

When I was single, I had all sorts of art-related activities to keep my mind busy; distracted. Although, even then, I didn't constantly write poetry or draw, and I had little drive to take those talents seriously, I was always occupied (or preoccupied). Now that I am getting in touch with my old self, I remember how it felt like, about five or six years back. I always had a melancholic air about me... which disappear every time I was having fun with good friends or my close cousins and relatives. It was a lot easier to understand who I was, what type of person I was, back then, I think. Although I wasn't as open as I am now, I didn't confuse people so much before.

I still give people wrong impressions now. Just different ones. Much better ones, I guess? I don't really know. But I was attuned to myself a long time ago. After dating Miles* for a while, I forgot to look into myself; to converse with myself. I used to literally, silently speak with myself. 

"What the hell, Lilith? Did you really just say that? Ugh, yeah, I know, what was embarrassing, can we just forget about it? Listen to some music, that should help you forget! Right, I'll do that."

My older blogs even had comical portions that featured the three parts of my consciousness arguing/conversing. It's funny, and I could write endlessly, and with my eyes closed; I think, because I was so aware of my thoughts and feelings. I realize how raw my blogs could have been years ago when I religiously maintained them.

I've always been lonely, and I think this is the very first time I'll admit that. On here, an anonymous blog, too! I wonder why it's so hard to preserve friendships. It may be because it's hard to find friends that I actually like. There's always something that puts me off. I have friends that are so like me, yet their vast knowledge or their busy schedules or their fast-paced lifestyle kind of makes me want to take a step back. Sometimes, they really do matter to me, but I am just another random face to them. I've also been used by "friends" numerous times. These aren't even "friends". Jesus, I'm this old, and I still have trouble keeping company. What the fuck.

I have friends that are true soulmates, but distance and priorities keep me apart from them. I'm still happy we try to get in touch and we miss each other. I'm not sure how to take the changes in our lives, though. However, the fact that we remain friends despite the separation makes me feel warm inside. 

I know I can't depend on them, though; and they probably think the same about me. I'm not sure. The thing is, though, they're doing better than I am, and they're fine. I'm not, and that doesn't make me feel like a worthy friend. I feel like I got stuck (pushed back, rather?) in the past after the "big incident" with Miles. 

Blogging, writing, listening to music, watching films and series, reading, drawing, et cetera: these always kept me busy back then. I sometimes felt like I was forcing myself to do these things, and honestly, I don't go out enough. I think we've established that the reason for this is because all my real friends have moved on and it's difficult to find new quality friends (also: especially because I have left two jobs and didn't get to connect properly) nowadays. 

Despite having an active mind, I was constantly drawn to sad and gloomy emotions, situations, people, things... I think this really is where art comes in. I was so pensive. I wrote beautifully about the most insignificant things. I paid attention to very significant life issues and write extensively, intelligently about them. I was so gloomy, yet I was ten times funnier. How was that possible? How am I so boring now that I am more open, more vocal, less shy, more assertive and confident? How strange is that?

Ah. Of course. I gave all of this up for one person: Miles.

I used to hang out with my close college friends after school. But you know what they say: love is a drug. I got addicted to it. First, it was JC*--and a number of guys I was talking with, too, at the time. I was so into the fact that they might be into me; I guess it was because I needed a simulation of a relationship or dating (in order to write about it?). I wasn't ready to date anyone, mainly because I haven't found anyone who was that worth it, but I wanted to write about love and pain, and the beauty of sadness/loneliness that comes with it. I was so into art, so into love, I was basically in love with everything around me. Everything meant something, and I would write about it. Every small incident was a story. Everything inspired me. I was constantly daydreaming.

When Miles and I started getting more steady, I would hurry home, or wake up hours before I really should. I'd match my sleeping schedule with his so I could spend more time with him. I spent too much time with him and put him above everything. I'd rather stay home and speak with him that go out with friends or family. It was all about him. And somehow, I believed he put a lot of effort in making it about me, too.

But now that I look at everything--at us--from the very beginning to now--all those years--I realize that he only really had time for me because his schedule permitted it. If he had the option to speak with me while he was out doing something, he'd do it. But I really am... just an inconsistent part of his schedule. Everything--work, his health, his friends and family--else in his life goes first. I am just... something he squeezes into his sched. 

Meanwhile, I--

Picture this. I am working on seven projects on a big table: it looks organized, busy. Miles walks over-- "Hi, Lilith. Ugh, I'm so hungry."

In a matter of two seconds, I've swept all my papers from the table with my right arm, and grabbed prepared meals from under the now clean table, so we could eat together. 

Yeah, that's how I treat him. I'm never prepared for anything else in my life but him. 

I wonder why it hurts me that our goals are changing for the worse (for our relationship). You'd think by now that our plans are now more in sync, because we're getting older and more and more eligible for settling down. When he was red, I was blue. So I worked hard in considering being red. Now that I'm closer to being red, he decides he's going to be blue. Yes, I know people change, but why are things turning out this way? If I knew this was going to happen, that he was going to consider a future for himself without me, I would've just ignored him five years ago. I would have never let this relationship happen. 

The reason why I stopped going out, socializing, taking care of myself, doing art, BLOGGING, is because everything had become him. He had become everyone, and everything to me. My diary, too. Now that he's not around, I feel so uneasy... naked, even. Because I have nothing, no one. Before I realized it, he had become my world. I used to promise myself never to let that happen... with anyone. It isn't worth it. Well, I guess I taught myself a lesson well. I just learned it the hard way. This is something I will someday teach my daughter... at least there's that. Someone will benefit from this pain someday. It's okay.

My blog used to be.... mostly my everything. I wrote about my feelings, every single insignificant occurrence in my life. I stopped because I had him. I told him everything. He knew everything. And what do you know, he doesn't really tell me everything. What's the point?

Blogging feels alien to me when I first start writing after stopping for a long time. I think I should warm up to it again, because it helps... somehow. Crying and drinking and watching shallow movies have started to lose their effect on me. They just wear me out and make me uglier.

I wish I would never stop blogging. I don't think I have to commit to this a hundred percent, like I used to, with my past journals... but I hope I keep this one alive. I know it will keep me sane.


Lilith

--

*Code name/s

Lilith: Music for the Restless Soul

I have been doing my best to keep myself occupied these past few days. Somehow, I still can't bring myself to feel guilty or mad that I left my job. However, I do miss having things to do; stressing over things that actually matter... being a useful human being and feeling responsible for something good.

How many interviews have I turned down? For every 10 applications I send out, an average of 4.5 would contact me for an interview. What led me to send out as many applications as possible isn't the fact that I'd like to pursue a career with them, though; it's just out of desperation. I'll admit, I really just want to know that I have a lot of options, and I like knowing that I have a fallback, should my world collapse without a moment's notice.

I only go to 2 out of the 4.5 potential employers that call me back. Because I am a stuck-up millenial.

I guess I should've gone to that one interview after all. I knew I probably wouldn't want to get the job; it sounds like it'll make me want to leave after just a few months. But I also wanted to be exposed to people who work at what I believe is an atypical corporate set-up. That, and I wanted to get some milk tea and a box of doughnuts on the way home, which I'll never do if I had no reason to go out (saving money...). Spilled milk. Oh, well.

I believe I've done as much as I can think of--watched movies, series, read manga, checked my social media 100 times a minute, checked the time every two minutes, believing it's been thirty...

...played with the dogs, moved around, watched about a hundred trailers on YouTube and discovered new music, tried to keep up a conversation with people that piss me off just to get my mind off things, just to keep me busy...

...actually bothered to watch TV again, ate 'til I ran out of things to eat (I believe the reason I gain weight when I'm stuck at home is because I get too bored and antsy and am desperately trying to keep myself busy, doing at least 2 things at a time), developed OCD (no joking here, I think I'm starting to have this)...

I'm depressed, and don't eat meals on time. I wouldn't want to eat 'til I have people on the table to eat with. I'd starve myself 'til someone would eat with me. A couple of times, I waited too long, I found out they went ahead without me. Thanks for the invitation! Much appreciated.

I thought nothing would fill the void. I thought nothing would heal me. I said, "calm down, listen to some music. Update your blog." I played a song I downloaded yesterday, and started to feel better. I started to listen to the lyrics that I was unconsciously drawn to... which probably led to me downloading it. It definitely wasn't just the catchy tune.

Well, whaddaya know, I can relate to the words very well. I started to nod my head to the music, but after I listened to it thrice, I started to feel bitter again. I'm such a loser. 

I'd make coffee twice a day after I told myself I should stay away from caffeine because I've been developing an addiction... again, just to distract myself. I look forward to interviews now, despite that horrible interview that went down last week. I don't give a fuck. I'll take insults from strangers any day, just get me out of here.

I'm a home body. Now I'm not. My safe haven, my room, my house... now feels like a mental institution. Geez. I'm pathetic.

I'm also battling with pride. Lots of it. I wish I didn't have to, but I am. I keep convincing myself, like a madwoman, that I'm being paranoid, about everything. You think it's this, but it's actually that. It's actually more okay than I think. Things are fine, and I'm just restless.

Now that I know that music can help me, I would probably spend the rest of the day music-tripping and preparing for tomorrow's interview. I hope all goes well for that one. Really.

I really need to get a job soon, I think I'm going mad. I need to do something!


Lilith

ATYT: the bratty employers' market

It's hard to ace interviews where the employer tries to find faults in every decision you make. I'd try to imagine myself answering question X with A, but I know what the interviewer will conclude from that answer and mention it's a concern, so I think of answering with B, but the interviewer will find it as another concern. For example, if you say you are independent, they'll tell you they can't have some antisocial fucker work for them because sometimes you need to work with others. Sorry, but independence doesn't mean social awkwardness or refusal to work in a team. However, if you say you are a people person, they're going to tell you that they need someone independent and has no problem with working alone because you can't always expect support from your coworkers. Apparently, in an interview, the proper way to describe yourself to some morons should be like this:

"I am both up and down. I am white, however, I'm black, too (hell, I can even be any shade of gray any day!). I'm smooth, but also rough. I'm cold and hot at the same time!"

Then they'll give you a slow clap.

It's odd that there are right or wrong answers during job interviews where correct answers aren't required. It's also unfair that you get judged for something so trivial AND THEN insulted, that no matter how good your skills or experience or demeanor, they'll just shoot you down. If it's a test of patience or tolerance, that's okay. But I'm positive that 90% of those kinds of interviewers (not from the HR, but hiring managers) were dead serious about being rude. I was going through pages and pages of complaints about rude hiring managers on a forum last night after my experience with a small company (here, where I'm from), operating behind a quite well-known international brand... and hearing about worse stories didn't make me feel better. In fact, having been interviewed, I believe, so much more than people my age that I know, I can say I haven't really met anyone who was just downright demonic. I've had hiring managers:

-looking at my resume, smirking condescendingly all the time while asking me questions whose answers he didn't believe (what's the point then?),

-implying that I should dress better (honestly and humbly speaking... I dress up pretty well on a regular basis and you can ask around about this... so of course when going to interviews my look is much more upgraded, and I don't get this part one bit--did they want me to wear expensive brands with a bigass logo printed on my bag, shoes, my blazer's back etc., to be impressed? Did they want me to wear 24k gold jewelry or diamonds or pearls or... 24k gold shoes with diamonds and pearls embedded in them? Or should I have entered the room in a carriage, or being carried by my butler, and offer them some champagne? For real.),

-telling me my relevant work experience was not relevant (I later on laughed at this experience, after I found out that that company was particular with hiring employees who are at least half-Chinese, and who are preferably round-faced [for good luck, I was told] and I'm so sorry I'm just a Pacific mutt with brains, a good personality and the right experience... boo hoo),

-telling me that they wanted fresh grads but those freshies have to have a few years of experience in the industry (huh???),

-telling me they want fresh grads but should not have to train them (as if you really learn about how things really go down in college! These are all books and simulations! I've been there; are you crazy? You can't not train fresh grads. Even the ones with good exposure to the industry needed to be guided!)

-reading into everything I say: "is doing so and so part of this position's job?" He said, "yes; do I sense hesitance in doing that? " No fucker I want to know the extent of the duties and responsibilities of that position because....... duh. I don't just take a job, not knowing that as a (sarcasm, for those who have difficulty identifying it) social media marketing executive I also have to clean toilets and sell cookies and also be the company driver. And do the CEO's daughters' homework.

-telling me I seem to be uncomfortable, therefore I can't communicate with all types of personalities (I was happy to find out last night, on that forum, that many interviewees get the "you're (too) shy/timid/lacking in confidence" when every. Single. Fucking. Applicant. Would. Always. Be. Nervous. During. An. Interview. It's nerves, excitement; they have to be alert and heighten their senses somehow and try to say the right things without knowing whether or not they're even doing so--have you ever been there? It's crazy! And then when you meet someone who isn't nervous, they're too cool and cocky? Wow, okay.

-not believing anything I say after previously not giving them a particular answer that they were looking for.
"Okay so Lilith, define love with one word." "Passion."
"Okay well that wasn't the answer I was looking for. Anyone who fits this position will definitely answer 'skiddadlewiddershins'. So have you done ABC before?"
"Yes (proceeds to give examples)"
"So no. No you haven't."
"I believe I did, and I have those examples to support this as well..."
"Nope. Wrong. So Lilith after I asked you 570, 084 questions about irrelevant stuff you learned in school a long time ago that basically nobody remembers anymore, I can tell that your knowledge is nonexistent. So what else can you contribute to the company if we give you this position?"
"I can W, X, Y and Z.... etc. Etc."
"Okay well we don't need W because I can do that. We don't need X because another one of our employees can do that. Y is pretty silly because duh it just is, and Z is useless 'cause I say so."
"..."
"So you're not knowledgeable and have nothing to offer so you may not fit here (proceeds to defend herself for calling me stupid and useless by acting "fair") so anyway, what sets you apart from other applicants?"
"I'm H, I, and J and I always K."
"OK BUT YOU CAN'T PROVE THAT"
"..."

Obviously, for some reason, I stopped being a candidate after she didn't get the answer she wanted. She should have just let me go home so I can have lunch and continue to look for other opportunities!

Thanks for reading my emopunk rantings. I guess this had been bottled up for years that I just had to explode in such a way that the fresh grad-Lilith, early employment-Lilith and now-Lilith have  merged into one,therefore coming up with this mess of a blog post.

Also, TMI: I'm PMSing. And I'm so done with being insulted  yesterday. I still lost all my confidence and happiness and drive yesterday from being told that even with everything I know and can give, I don't even deserve an insulting minimum wage assistant job even after my non-rank-and-file, almost managerial experience just because she asked a bunch of high school entrance examination questions that I didn't answer the way she wanted me to. Boo hoo. :( A whole hour of putting me down... I hope she got a kick out of that! What a shithead.

Out.


Lilith

Lilith: the love mess, the work complication and the murky future

The future is either blurry or clear. When it's clear, it's fucking crystal. When it's blurry... fuck, it isn't. I'm fucking blind and can't see a thing.

Congratulations to me. I will have my three-month anniversary at work this month. I made it (?!). Heh. Here's the thing: three of my friends, who are from the same department, already left. One was asked to resign, the other two left. Two of them are my teammates... two of them have the same position as mine. In other words, besides the fact that I am the only one working under my boss, I'm the only junior professional in the department.

The set-up at work has been shifty. The original agreement was that I report to my boss, along with two marketing peers--we handle different properties of the company. We report to our respective outlets in order to monitor operations and to constantly find opportunities for marketing activities; as well as build relationships with people relevant to the outlet. Upper Management decided to call everyone back into the main office and make everybody report there, and not the outlets. It seems they don't feel like we are accomplishing anything outside of the office (false, we accomplish a lot when we are at our outlets).

About a week later, UM gathered all the marketing people and those from other relevant departments into one group and gave the integrated team a name. We lost our bosses; we now attend to requests from any boss and we don't handle just one property. Around... another week later, we gained our bosses back! But... we still have special projects when any other boss requests for it and it has been assigned to us.

After my friends left (with a bang!), some of us from the "new team" (plus another department) were gathered for a meeting with someone from UM. We talked about the problematic outlets and were instructed to pick one, as we will be reporting there from now on--to improve sales, customer count, average checks, etc. We are to stay in that outlet until everything gets better. We are to come up with marketing ideas and to monitor operations, sales, etc. etc., to make sure that the restaurants/stores would stop losing.

(The main office is way up north. The outlet I'm originally assigned to is in the middle of Metro Manila. I love down south... and the new outlet I've been assigned to is way, way down south.

It's been declared that the "new team" will be having meetings twice a week--this'll be held at the main office. That means I'll have to report up north for the meeting, and leave for the south afterwards. Take note: I don't have a car. I take trains and buses and shit. It's basically a 2-hour travel time, considering the terrible traffic all over Manila.

It baffles me that in first world countries, you can travel for miles, from city to city and it'll only take your two hours. Metro Manila shouldn't be that big... but it can take you up to 5 hours traveling around if traffic is really fucked up. That's how shitty it is here. Holy shit.

My bags are packed. I just need money to get out of here... seriously.

Anyway.) As usual, the UM person did not believe in my abilities and did not hold back in showing it. The UMP has been up a lot of people's asses for reasons we wish we'd understand... and apparently is the reason for the quick turnovers in the company. If I did not like my own boss I would've already found myself a new job a month ago and left. However, I started looking yesterday... nothing good in the market, really, but I'm going to actively look now while I still have some spare time (and offset hours to use).

I am not having a very hard time coming up with ideas--there are a number of them, but I'm not sure they're feasible. Thank God, honestly, that there haven't been any meetings this week yet. Apparently, the ideas have to be presented as a proposal with a supporting budget. I've been asking for help from... well... "relevant" people and they give me short answers that help, but not much. I can't keep guessing; if I fuck up everything will backfire.

I wish my boss would get a better job offer somewhere else... and that her partner would also get a nice job somewhere else... so I'll feel free to go anytime. I used to be able to explain why I can't leave my boss (I have a great boss--intelligent, talented, nurturing, protective, considerate, supportive... and I am greatly needed after my teammates left), but now, I really don't know. It feels like I'm staying because I want to be a good support system--and that is fine because I don't feel like I'm being used. 

I did warn my boss, though, that if my pride gets pissed on (because it's been trampled upon tons of times by that UM person. But hey, I'm still here because I'm tough [I think? Or I just need the job and can't leave!] and I don't want to leave my Commander-in-chief. 

I didn't see all this coming.

Miles* and I have found a way to fix ourselves; and because of our work/life conditions we decided to get married as soon as possible to make things easier for us. It was actually my idea, because the distance and the stress makes everything unbearable. I believed that living under one roof would be beneficial to both of us because I believed that having each other would help. I believed the distance did make us colder, and that if we closed that distance, things would get better.

How many times did I ask to break up with him in the past couple of months, and actually meant it?

Whoops, did I really mean it, because why do we still talk every now and then, and why do we start acting like nothing happened after every fight, after every "I-am-so-done-with-this"?

I think I've reached the end of the line, and have been lingering because I couldn't accept it yet. I think we've been over for a while and I refuse to realize it. 

I've lost every member of my support group. Mom and dad aren't counted, because I can't really bother them for that... they are permanently my first and last line of defense, but they just have too much on their plate. Holy fuck, I'm about to cry again, and for a strange reason this time: I can't take all this right now. I really need to curl up and disappear.

He promises not to yell, not to be impatient, to be respectful, to avoid being rude and mean, and breaks those same promises within the same hour. He promises to do something and only does it for a week, then forgets about it. I have to explain why I am short and snappy every single time I am, even when I've explained why a thousand times (too much stress). He does not try to take it easy on me or understand me. 

He will say the same damn things, but I can assure you my actions are justified... and most of his aren't--he is rude to me only because he hates me. He doesn't want to be understanding, he doesn't care about supporting, comforting, and showing he cares for me, especially publicly. I tell him everything I need because it's easier, than expecting him to know everything...... and he doesn't give them to me. He refuses to, he gives excuses and always has reasons, he forgets.

He is not romantic or sweet anymore. I asked for that, because I can be like that if only he can promise to be good to me. Nope. Never mind.

He doesn't exert extra effort for me anymore. No, Miles, staying up isn't extra effort. It's routine. We both do that.

Extra effort is doing something out of the ordinary every now and then. NOT RARELY. It's how you keep a relationship alive.

But no. Never mind.


God, give me the strength to move on from this if it really isn't meant to be. Give me the opportunity to grab so I can move forward and up in life. 



Lilith

--

*Code name/s

Lilith: Finally--hello employment, goodbye relationship

I am fighting tears (never mind, they're POURING now) as I am writing this right now. I am so conflicted about everything happening in my life that I just don't know where to start--literally. I don't know where to start financially, socially, career-wise, health-wise and relationship-wise. I've never felt this broken in a long time. 

After turning down a high offer from a company that I judged based on their reputation, corporate structure and culture, I couldn't help but accept the painfully low offer from the company I chose (very low basic pay--exactly the same amount as my previous job's, but with an additional allowance--so it's only slightly higher) because of the quality of the work experience and the company's high reputation. 

I was heartbroken, to be honest, because that means I cannot afford a dorm that's just around the office. I have to settle for very long commutes, despite how bad and unpredictable the weather is here (not to mention the prevalence of crime, and the terrible traffic situation). I can't save up for the things I badly need for my future endeavors (a good laptop and a professional camera, lenses, etc.) and I don't really make enough to do something to improve my lifestyle. I can only count on the 'raise' they'll be giving me once I become a regular employee (it can only get so high, right?) and I'm not even sure if my pay will improve after my probationary period.

I'm only clinging on to the encouraging words a few friends and family have given me. They know my situation and they tell me that I'm doing the right thing, and that everything is okay. But other than that, I'm still pretty broken.

I'm so stressed about the life-changing events all happening seemingly at the same time in my life. I'm entering a slightly different sub-field of my college major and I am desperate to perform well at work. I am also paranoid about dealing with people and handling a possibly heavy workload given all the other baggage that taking this job came with. Aside from that, my weight and health have deteriorated slightly over the past weeks. I'm starting work tomorrow (not even a week's notice!) and I'm coming down with a bad cold. 

It doesn't end there. I am seriously considering ending my long-term relationship with Miles*. He is becoming worse and worse everyday, more and more careless and hateful towards me. I don't think we see eye-to-eye about most things anymore. I am constantly shocked to discover that his views about some things have become the complete opposite of what they originally were. Apparently, we used to agree about many things before--now that we're older and see the world differently, our opinions have probably changed. This time, though, we're a little upset about each other's views. 

I think I've struggled and fought so hard to stay, told myself that maybe this is just another test because we're hitting the six-year mark by the beginning of next year. He has become lax and lazy, so I have become angry, so he has become vengeful, so I have become vengeful, so he has become hateful, so I have become hateful, so he has become worse, so I have grown tired of him, so he has grown tired of me. We've basically given up on each other and are only feeding on the good days and the nice things we can get out of each other. We live on that, but there's just too little of it to survive in the relationship. He still wants to work things out (meaning, he wants me to be okay with all the offensive things he does and allow him to take me for granted) but breaking up sounds more tempting to me. He will only pull me down--his existence has done that to me for years, and because he's not the kind, understanding, gentle and eager-to-please guy he was when I first met him, I don't see why I should keep stretching this out. I should just cut it.

People will always say it's the distance or the difference in culture. But unless you are in a 90% similar relationship, I can't really agree with you. People will never understand what it's like. He and I don't like the distance, but we managed because we wanted to be together. He blames the distance, too, for all the bad stuff that happens between us, but I don't have the same sentiments. We couldn't do anything about it, so we'll just have to deal with it--thus, our situation requires a different kind of effort to show our dedication. I have it, but he doesn't. His priorities are always self-centered, and I'm never on top of his list. It's fine to put other things before me sometimes, but he ALWAYS chooses to put other things before me, expecting me to be okay with it. If they were absolutely important--you know, work or family or health-related, for example, that's fine. But if it's something completely shallow, something you don't have to do right away, and you put it before a person you claim to be the love of your life when they specifically asked you to be there for them because they need you.... well... you don't know your priorities. 

If you cannot handle being in a relationship, don't be. If you're too busy with work half of the time and being a carefree child the other half of the time, DO NOT LOOK FOR A GIRLFRIEND OR BOYFRIEND. You are not only wasting their time, effort and money, you are also giving them heartache. It's extra stress that a person does not need in this fast-paced world. Do not, at all costs, pretend to invest yourself in a girlfriend or boyfriend if you are DETACHED--unless that's what you both want--to be detached.

All he cares about now is his own happiness, and apparently, I appear to be the same way. We've gone from selfless to completely selfish. The only good thing about this relationship is the fact that we don't cheat on each other. But hey, is that really enough to stay in a relationship?

I don't even want to think about being in a relationship right now. I don't want that at all. I just want to be healthy, to have the career I want, to travel, see the world and share good moments with the people I love. A relationship doesn't sound or look attractive to me right now. I'm about ready to gag on every disgustingly sappy couple I encounter in real life and online. Love, a relationship and all the bullshit that come with it just sounds like a big hassle to me. It feels like work. Let's face it, most people don't like the idea of work.

I think one of the reasons I was pissed about turning down a great offer (and finding out the job offer I picked was much lower) was mainly because of Miles. If, when he visits me, I'll have to spend a lot of money on the accommodations, travel, food, etc. If I don't have him, I wouldn't have to worry about my low income anymore. I can just worry about my own future. 

The Lilith from yesterday would be surprised at how much courage the Lilith right now has. She will be shocked at how decided I am about ending this dysfunctional relationship.

Sorry, Old Lilith, but your boyfriend just doesn't give a crap about your feelings anymore. You've tried asking nicely, demanding, crying, shouting, threatening, begging.... basically everything, and he just doesn't budge anymore. Apparently, so do you. Maybe you've started to outgrow each other. 

He just bullshits too much, always says one thing but does another thing. Always promises to be there for you but is never there. Always promises to respect you but always insults you. Always promises to be dedicated but you end up doing everything, even the things he's supposed to do. You don't deserve it. You don't need a relationship to be happy--all you need is a good life. You can worry about a partner later on.

To be honest, I'm thinking way far ahead--as in, if we break up, and I still don't want a relationship two years from now, but I'm financially stable and I want a kid, I'll just get an AI. I don't need to get married to have a kid. 

I'm not sure if I should feel glad that I don't seem to be scared to lose him. I wonder if I am even confident enough for that. All I know right now is I don't need the extra baggage because I have many other important things to consider in my life. 

I gave him another ultimatum--if he wants me to be with him, he should go back to being the guy I met moving forward. Only then will I trust that our relationship will get better--why? Well, ladies and gentlemen, the only reason I'm an asshole is because he's an asshole. Neither one of us wants to step down. We used to, before, but things are different now. I'm willing to, but he never is--and I can't accept that. It's unjust and unfair.

If he can't promise me he'll be mister nice guy, I can't promise him I'll be a good partner... because I promise you, I've tried being the first to step down all the time. I've done everything he asked me to do and he still treats me like shit. He can still take me or leave me and I should just be okay with that. 

Anyway, maybe we should toast to the future and drink to the past.

Or something. We'll see how this progresses within the week.


Lilith

--

*Code name/s

Lilith: Toll fees

The title is not literal.



I suck. I used to write very good blog posts... back in my not-so-anonymous blogs. Now I can only sigh at the length and the frustrating lack of passion in every word I seem to post on here. I think the best one has been the very first entry—but I guess all this—this hollow sensation I’m getting—is just because I feel like my life has no real purpose right now. I’m unemployed, having a hard time looking for a job, probably being rejected by all the firms I’ve sent applications to and that have screened me, and probably made a stupid mistake turning down a job offer only because it will ruin my health.

(Only ruin my health? Really? “Only”?

(hmm, guess I still made the right decision...?))

I think my depression shows through my eating and sleeping habits: my appetite has been weak for almost two months now. I gained back the ten pounds I lost when I was still employed, but I’m not exactly healthy. I think I eat half the amount of what I usually do, which is 50% less than the right amount of food intake if I want to reach my goal weight. More meat! More carbs! More veggies! But nope. I’m too depressed right now to even get excited over my favorite dishes. That, ladies and gentlemen, got me very worried.

I discovered something—with the right kind of rice, and with some chopsticks I can eat as much as I can without having to deal much with my PMS-y appetite. But we didn’t have any chopsticks, so I ate with one hand, using a fork. For everything.

I think there’s a certain appeal to eating with one hand as opposed to two; an appeal to only being able to put so much in your mouth at one time. A spoon can easily ruin that—especially a big one (which we have and use. Can’t stand it! Toads have bigger mouths than I do!).

I think there’s a deeper science with eating food. Duh. There definitely is—it’s psychology. If people who work in the food industry know there’s a proper way to eat certain foods (y’know, what wine goes with what, what type of pasta or cheese to use with what dish, etc.), then there are ways to literally eat food that will make them taste better for you.

I think M&M’s taste better when you crush them with your teeth while they’re lying vertically between them. When I was in high school, I knew a couple of people that ate their potato chips by crushing the contents and getting a plastic spoon to scoop the crushed bits with. I’ve heard of people using ketchup for everything—yes, even for dishes with soup. *Shudder*

Here’s my fascination with consuming only tiny, bite-sized amounts of food in my mouth—figured it always leaves you wanting more. Our helper’s cooking is a carbon copy of my mom’s, so there’s no room for disinterest. I thought how embarrassing it would be if people actually saw me eating with just a fork, but you have to do something to maintain your health.

I keep running out of companies to send applications to. I’ve looked up Top 1000 companies and sent applications even to whatever hasn’t been included in the list. I was stupid not to start searching right after I left my job.

Ugh, but I needed to rest. I was a wreck—I literally looked like a zombie back then. You’ve no idea.

If I wasn’t so goddamned unhealthy, I could’ve just saw to it that I’d have a place to go to after leaving work. Oh, well, I’m young and stupid. Young people make mistakes (but they’re pretty fucking dumb if they repeat them... so that means I’m brainless!) and I figured the best way to learn from something is to learn it the hard way.

I’ve gotten lost so many times, but it’s because of those moments of darkness that I am now enlightened.

Shit, did the brainless Lilith just say something cool? Uh oh, damn, now I’m gonna be popular. Hey, want me to sign your shirt? Your butt?


Kidding aside.

I give myself brain damage by smashing my head against the wall everyday out of sheer self-disappointment... but something keeps telling me that I’m still doing the right thing. I mean, I’m doing my best. I’ve done nothing but look for jobs and send applications besides reading books, watching and reading the news, eating, bathing and sleeping.

I’m on the right track. I’m on the right track. I’m on the right track.

Right?

Lilith