Project U

We are stars made of stars. And if you're a little New-Age-y like me, you're a star whose fate is in the stars...
...what happens when your stars die?

Hello, I am "Lilith". I'm back because I never should have left, ever. I never should have left my LiveJournal and Blogdrive blogs. I'm back because I know who I am by keeping a journal. I'm back because I find pieces of who I am from my old entries. I'm back because I met an awesome woman in her forties who I aspire to be, who pushed me to revive the old me.

I have lost myself throughout the years. Unfortunately, when I found the love of my life, I had to give myself up... I forgot who I am. I don't know who I am anymore, or I'm not sure. I don't even know what to do.

Who am I?

You won't find out who you are by thinking about it, but by actively making your life better. How do you know where to start when you have too many things to do and you don't know where to begin?

I make a list at work.

Where am I now? What is going on? What are my deliverables, who is the person in charge, what's the deadline and the status?

I think my life needs that right now.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

1. Family

Mom is done with her chemotherapy. It's been almost a year. I was crushed a few weeks ago when she told me that her oncologist said that the effectivity of chemo lasts for just two years. I don't know if she noticed a change in my expression when she told me that, but I felt... what was it? A rush of heat go up my chest from my stomach? I think remnants of that sensation reached my face. Some mothers can tell how you really feel behind a heavily-cemented expression... I can only pray that I've become so good at displaying a tough, positive exterior that it gets troubling because people think I'm okay.

I'm not okay. It's been almost a year since mom started chemo. The possibility of metasteses will go up two years after day one.

How is she? Is she okay? She said it so casually that I can't tell if she is learning to accept her situation. Once, before she told me this, she used the word 'terminal' to refer to her condition. It bothered me, but I brushed it off and thought she was just being pessismistic or did not want to have high expectations for her survival. I honestly believe she will crush this cancer and overcome it and age as I have always imagined her to be... together with dad... but I wonder if she's just handling things one day at a time, attending to day-to-day concerns as usual, until whatever happens, happens. I hated that thought. I hated that things have become lax at home... and that I am responsible for it, as well. 

I was the leader: I had the best plans that will help her recover fast. I led activities that not only helped her get healthy, but made her happy and brought our family closer, as well. Unfortunately, dad was just not into it. He's was too into himself and his own concerns that he could barely be bothered about his wife's health. I've learned long ago to accept that he doesn't love mom the way he should, but I had a bit of hope when mom was diagnosed.

Apparently, the crying and worrying and getting sick over mom's condition wasn't really for mom, but for himself. Who's going to take care of him? Who will stay by his side through thick and GODDAMNFUCKINGTHIN? He knows there's a huge possibility I would go the other way if he and I were left alone because he knows just how difficult of a person he is. He knows I wouldn't put up with his attitude. I love him no matter what, no matter how he is--but now, I'd like to make it clear that I have a love-hate relationship with dad. He treats mom so badly, it's unforgivable. He's unapologetic and yet he years for pity. Indeed, he is pitiful... but there's a whole side of him I just can't accept.

Dad's sick, too. He is afraid of getting checked because he knows he would lose it if the doctor tells him he has something terrible. Mom's condition was a shock; unexpected. He can't stop thinking that the same thing can happen to him.

Has our family bonded more since mom was diagnosed? A little. We still get on each other's nerves, we still scream at each other. Well... mom and dad do. It's like nothing happened. Whenever I'm around, I try to neutralize (WHAT. NOPE.) things by taking mom's side and yelling at my dad (YES. WRONG.) but when mom's on her own, I just wonder how much damage my dad does to her health. He's done so much, but he's in denial... so he keeps going.

Do I know a possible solution to help bond our family? Yes. Can I fix my parents' relationship? No.

Dad will always treat mom as a punching bag and a stressball. He will always find her annoying. I will always be angry that mom will never leave him, because I have tried to convince her so many times and even told her I had been dreaming about it since I was ten... but no. She never will.

All I can try to do is make sure he will never be her cause of demise!

2. Health

I may have fixed my bowel problems, but I am feeling all sorts of wrong somewhere in my abdominal area. I first felt discomfort the same month mom was diagnosed, but I brushed it off, thinking my body was having sympathetics... symptoms (?!) similar to mom's. I ignored it, and it didn't bother me until mid-year.

I experienced some pain after relieving myself. The pain was inconsistent, but it was always after I went to the bathroom. I got sick, got cured, had lab tests and everything was clear. The pain stopped.

The discomfort is apparent this month. I also had a few episodes of the same after-urinating pain and it lasted for a few minutes. At one point, I had to sleep it off so it would go away. I think I can feel a bulge inside my abdomen. I have a feeling I have stones... where and what kind, I'll have to find out when I see an OB.

I'm not okay.

3. Career

My third job redundated me because they can't afford my talent fee. Hmph! Eff you, too. It's okay, I was handling a dying brand... even though I had such good memories with that brand. Mom and I bonded over it and it's what got me into a particular Asian cuisine. Oh, well. I was thankful to get an invitation from an international company belonging to the same industry as my second and third jobs. The position was higher, the pay was higher, the people from my department are amazing and the brands somehow had a budget to spend initiatives on. Most people were difficult, though, especially our internal clients... but that's just how it is.

I won't lie, the job is difficult. It takes someone who is really in love with her field to stay as long as she can within the company. And, since it isn't family-friendly, and my family really needs me at the moment, I resigned after just 2 months. Initially, and on my first month, too, I brought that up with my boss. She declined and asked me to give it another chance by splitting time between work and my mom. I did... and stayed for another month. It didn't work, and now I have health complications, too. I end my contract with them next month... now I'm troubled for my career path.

I'm Miss Starts-Something-and-Never-Finishes-it. I've always been... well, since high school. Fuck high school, man, seriously. So much trauma from high school and college fucked me up and turned me into who I am, now. It's hard to accept who you are if you don't like who you are. I'm everywhere and nowhere. Mostly nowhere. Mostly a nobody. Nothing.

Now I'm looking into freelancing. I want to write and do voiceovers on the side. Here we go again. Because I don't have connections, and my skills need honing, and how fucking old am I? I feel demotivated about even starting somewhere. That's what always gets me down. Here's how I've always handled my career:

"I'll never be as good as _____."
"I'm not that good."
"She is better than I am."
"I wish I could be as good as _____."
"My skills aren't enough."
"I'm not as skilled/experienced."
"It's so hard."
"I'm trying hard, but am still not as good."
"It's a long way ahead and others my age/who are younger are more advanced than I am. It's useless, I'll just stop here and go with the flow."

Mom and dad told me I had a defeatist attitude ever since I was little. They didn't know where I got that from, because they couldn't think of anyone who was like that. When they asked me to do something, I would take a look at it and say I couldn't do it - e.g. climbing a wall, etc.

I fell out of love with my current field and, strangely, even when it's fucking annoying, I'm okay with it. At least I know it wasn't something anyone forced on me. I wasn't pressured to take all the fields I took since I graduated. I think that I am, at the moment, undergoing trial-and-error (bad for someone in their mid-twenties due to the increasingly demanding, aggressive and harsh world we live in!) career-wise and I'm taking baby steps to find myself in this regard. There's no other way but to do so, so I shouldn't really get mad about it, no matter how frustrating it really is. If I keep making the same mistakes (not exactly mistakes since it's T&E), I'll always be unhappy.

Who was I before all the pressure started? I was a writer and an artist. I was interested in sketching, speaking and writing. What were my favorite subjects in school? Retracing steps would probably help, so I'll do that.

I continued getting interesting interview invitations from good companies since I started at my current job but I knew I couldn't commit to a similar position after this. God knows I would have continued practicing my current profession if my previous employer didn't kick me out just because they were poor. If I had received the right kind of attention and training, I would have been great. I would have matured in this industry.

Alas, God has other plans for me.

4. Love

I broke up with Miles* when I started at my new job and I think we're currently at the process of patching things up. It really takes both parties to do so, because we've been going back and forth, switching roles all the time. We're both naturally terrible to each other, but one always gives way to the other. We just never happened to gentlemen at the same time... until now. I think.

Before all this, I felt slightly lost, but tried to look at the good side of things. I wanted to go wild. I wanted to mess around with strangers I'll never meet again. I wanted to be bad. I wanted to date, meet new people, pretend I have a vice or two... or four. I found myself talking to Jesse*. I don't know how things escalated that fast, but within weeks were... dating, or in some sort of exclusive mutual understanding. That was days after I left Miles. I was transparent with him, and I thought he understood my situation. Although I had always been interested in my relationship with him in another universe, or another time, I knew somehow it could never be on mine. We attempted that... we failed. 

Although it wasn't my fault, it was made to look like I fucked things up. Typical Jesse, actually. He blows up out of nowhere and you just can't figure out what sets him off. I thought he had finally grown out of that attitude. It is now clear to me that that's his nature... just as mine is I am unforgiving, and Miles is he's just uninterested, and dad's is he just thinks of himself/he's selfish. Jesse just finds a way to get pissed or upset at the strangest things. And he gets so, very, passionately upset.

He dumped me because I wanted to be selfless. I was thinking of his feelings, of his heart. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to do the right thing.

I hadn't gotten over my six-year relationship to my ex-fiance, and I had problems left and right. I told him I was broken, I told him if I wanted to deserve him, I had to be whole, and since he said we should take it easy, that I should slow the shit down, that WHOA MUHFUCKR I should step the fuck back for a sec, then he shouldn't be talking about getting me to move to where he is and living under one roof and marrying me. It freaked me out--yes, strange, those things usually don't! It did.

I also didn't like the way he played hard to get, like Hugh* did when he got at me and manipulated me. I now realize I do these things to Miles... all the time. Getting a dose of your own medicine never goes well... at first. If it teaches you a lesson, it's worth it.

I've become quite the optimist. I have to be... for my loved ones.

Uh, going back... after the dumping, I focused on work and other things, and when I finally tried to reach out to Jesse again, he made a snarky comment about how I "just didn't feel like talking to him" two weeks after our last conversation. I figured that he obviously ignored me on purpose. I was disgusted, but since I wasn't trying to chase him the way he wanted, I decided to slow down even more. I figured he wanted to be chased, and I didn't want to. I wasn't going to give him that because what he did to me made him unworthy. I saw Hugh in him and I was correct to never chase the guy.

A few years down the road, and if he changes into a better man (like Hugh) and I happen to be single, I might.

Well, because Hugh changed. He's less of an asshole, though still freaky/creepy, and getting less and less genuinely interested in me. Probably happens when you slowly realize you'll never really end up with the person you're in love with.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is why two people who used to have romantic feelings for each other can never truly be just friends, except in special situations.

In my case, men will only stay interested in you as long as they can get you. If all you want to be is friends with them, no matter how many times they swear they have your back even when you don't end up with them...

...it's horseshit.

5. Friendship

I'm also trying to trace my friendship traumas to find ways to fix it. One of the reasons I'm introverted at the moment might be the shallow, selfish people I am surrounded with everyday since high school. I've always had trust issues and I never get to keep good friends for a long time. I also barely see or hang out with the ones I'm close with... and they're what, one, two people from high school?

It's a problem because I long for companionship. Gross, did I really say that? Lilith v.23.0 wouldn't even dare mention her weaknesses! Then again, I'm the latest, upgraded version! I am better!

Acknowledging your demons is a good thing. You have to find out next, however, how to deal with them. All my personal issues are interrelated, so I need to fix them one by one. My desire for relationships with friends that run deep would affect my personality, my drive, my mood, my passion. I could be more successful, more confident, see more of the world, save those who need saving, cry less, be happier if I had more and better genuine relationships with friends. 

I don't know where to start here; I think it all begins with myself. I think the current reason why I repel people (which is the problem) is that they don't give a shit about me. They don't give a shit because they're not interested in my shit. They're not interested because my shit is all negative. My shit is negative because I'm just generally sad. Because nothing really great happens in my life. Because I am demotivated. Because of my past traumas.

An ex-boss said you will have an AHA! moment and figure out how to go about things when you run out of answers to the question "WHY?". That's what I think I should do to fix my bullshit.

6. Self

I need to figure out who I am, and what I need to do. Funny how fateful meetings with blessings in disguise (hello, close friend (would you let me call you that?) who I hung out with overnight just weeks ago, and 40-something inspiring writer/artist/biker I just met!) trigger you to do something big: I'd like to call it PROJECT U (U as in you, and U as a Southeast Asian word meaning 'to progress') in my case. 

When I find out what I want to do and do what I want to do in life, I'll be better. When I'm better, I can project better to other people (Miles, or, realistically, potential partners out there; relatives and loved ones; myself) and gain genuine friends. 

Unfortunately, gaining friends and partners means grabbing their attention the way an effective advertisement does (via interest). I guess I just have to accept that humans will always be selfish and unconsciously consider this question: "what's in it for me?" before they even commit (be friends with, go out with, buy, spend time, effort, etc. on) to something/someone. 

Fortunately, there are people like me who know this, and we can help others realize this, too. I think the end goal here is, when all is well with me, to help and save people in any way I can.


Wish me luck in this new project. Help me, God. Help me, Universe.


Lilith

--

*Code name/s

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:Unorthodox Christian into New Age

I confirmed something important and life-changing yesterday: that I probably don't have a religion anymore; I'm nothing but spiritual. I also seem to be borderline New Ager. I used to think I was just superstitious, that I have a slightly odd interest in energies and the power of nature, spirits, otherworldly creatures, superhuman abilities, rituals and the use of different mediums (crystals, cards, astrology) and other spiritual concepts that would have hardcore... believers (let's not drop names) burning me alive if they found out.

I thought these were just personal interests... in angels, the universe, unorthodox takes on the religion I grew up learning. However, I was endlessly fascinated and inspired by a number of philosophied, religions and beliefs we studied all throughout high school and college--Shintoism, Taoism, Buddhism, Hinduism. I, of course, selected what I believed was good (whatever is positive, makes sense, matches what I believe in, not too extreme and does not cause harm to anyone or anything) from each religious belief and used those concepts to fortify my spirituality. I guess I didn't know what I was doing back then; I didn't realize I was unconsciously preparing myself for a bigger event--acceptance, and what I think was something like a rebirth; enlightenment.

Yes, I still believe in God. No, He is not a specific God; not Yahweh, not Allah, not the Christian God... He is God, period. Yes, I believe in Jesus, and for some strange reason, I still do believe he is God in the form of man. He is the Son of God. Do I mean this literally? No. If, one day, we are able to prove he isn't the son of God, I wouldn't mind. Jesus was an inspiration, he was a good man and he will forever be a symbol of peace and love. I love Jesus. Do I believe in the Catholic miracles performed by saints and those who have been touched by God? Yes. Why? I am convinced. Could these possibly be hoaxes? Sure.

Am I open to the argument that these may all just be misinterpretations of illnesses, fringe, unexplained occurences or even... lies? Yes.

Do I believe in a God? Yes. Why? Personal human experience. I feel a higher presence full of love, and I feel an invisible hand that guides me when I am at my lowest lows; when I absolutely couldn't have figure out what to do with my life anymore.

What kind of God do I believe in? Definitely not the Old Testament God, which, I am disappointed to say, most of my loved ones believe in, no matter how absurd the 'words' people (believers) claim come from his mouth. What are examples of these? Same sex relationships, premarital sex, many misogynistic ideas, unfair and nonsensical "rules" to live by, et cetera. 
I believe in a loving and forgiving God, a God that doesn't judge irrationally. 

I believe that God created all living things (not out of nowhere, because... don't we have science to explain how things come to be? This is not to be confused with what I just said--because God caused all this, and that is what I believe) out of love, because He has so much of it and wants to share it. God, to me, is like a parental figure. He nurtures, guides and educates; but more than that, he encourages us to use own own free will, and our strength to get by. 

Is there a heaven or a hell? Possibly. We don't know. Do I believe in reward and punishment in the afterlife? Definitely--these are not dictated by God (because wouldn't that be cruel? He is a loving God). These are all caused by ENERGIES.

This is the stupidest interpretation of "God's love" that I have ever heard:
God created us out of love and gave us free will. We are to do good (by "his"/the believers standards), otherwise we will face punishment. 

Because God is the Alpha and the Omega, the all-seeing eye, he knows exactly who will do good and bad in their lifetimes. Why would he allow a bad seed to rot in hell, when he created them out of love and knowingly gave them free will? Does that sound like a loving God? No. I therefore reject these kinds of ideas abouy God.

I believe the Bible is mostly (emphasis on that word) history and culture written in the form of literature. It contains the word of God, but because it has been handed down through, translated and interpreted by countless generetions, it is highly possible that the original meaning has never been figured out or has changed in time. 

I write a shitton of poetry with a shitton of symbols in them. 1000 years from now, they will have a whole different meaning based on the interpretations people passed down over the years. What could simply be about my childhood might get interpreted as an illness due to alcohol (if, one day, people find out I douse depression with shots of vodka). 

I'm not sure where I belong anymore; because I'm sure many won't accept me. In a way I found comfort in the thought that there are people like Pope Francis who are so open to unorthodox Christian ideas. I guess that's kind of what I am--part unorthodox Christian and part... New Ager...ish? 

I had an interesting discussion with my mom abouy religion. It seemed she was the first one to have agreed with me when I told her about my atypical Chtistian beliefs. I brought up Pope Francis and how people were saying he was the antichrist, that there will be a new world order, etc. I suggested that perhaps, the word 'antichrist' could have a different meaning--'Christ' being the traditional New Testament Christ, and not the essence of the real Christ, who is a symbol of love. 

If that's what 'Christ' actually means in 'antichrist' (in that long dreaded prediction), then that simply means that perso , the 'antichrist', is non-traditional, unconventional, unorthodox. It means he understands the essence of Christ; the essence of God, and is more accepting of people and more understanding of everyone's humanity.

I've observed this in Pope Francis. Traditionalists are shocked at how accepting he is of homosexuals and non-Christians. I am glad that an icon from the Catholic church is able to show such courage and openness with his own beliefs. It's surprising, yet refreshing; and rather delightful. New world order? Check. If he is the anti-old-school-teachings-Jesus, and is showing the world how Jesus would actually act if he were here in this time and age, people of all religions are bound to unite. Somehow. You'd still have the fanatics and traditionalists, but people from different religions and cultures accepting and loving each other sounds pretty damn good to me.

'One religion' may not mean one literal religion. It could mean that people respond to one message, one driving factor: love. No language, racial, religious, age, or cultural barriers there--everybody knows what love is and how to express it. It will be the language we speak, what we believe in, and what will unite us.

Sounds nice. I just hope my interpretations are correct.

So armageddon, 'the end is coming', according to a lot of religions. The end of what? A lot of bullshit. Hatred and rejection, maybe war, maybe pain. Maybe. It sounds too ideal, but what if it's possible for people to be mostly united, save for the really stubborn ones? 

Maybe this is what the age of Aquarius is. Peace, understanding, acceptance, and love.

What reason is there to think negatively about the end?

Let's not discuss death, though. I'm not quite there yet. I still stay up hours and hours scared shitless when I think about it.


-Lilith

Lilith: floating aimlessly in between two mountains

Almost four months into my new job again, but I'm positive that this time, if something fucks up, I can at least wait until I've ended my probationary contract. I really do intend to stay, though, despite how strict the company is with leaves, absences and tardiness. I also work ten hours a day instead of the typical nine, with a position lower than my last one... though taking home more dough.

Work's distance is also a plus since it's much nearer to home compared to the two to three hour commute I used to do. People here are more tolerable and some of them are even nice friends. It's pretty awesome in general.

I get impatient with many things though. When everything is slow-paced, I mean it. You literally do nothing. Good thing we've got some pending projects now and I'm flexing my muscles in preparation of... getting shit done. I'm hoping to get a promotion here and I'm positive if I do very well ,then there's a very good chance I will.

I feel underemployed for some reason and that some other people are underqualified for their positions. It can be a huge hassle, I'm telling you. People you need to rely on sometimes are useless and you end up doing things yourself.... which can be a plus for me. It means I can get things done and I can do it better. I'm independent and capable.

I hate that people are sometimes unreliable, unconcerned and slow. I don't understand why a person can't care for their job if it's where they're getting their money from....... and if it's a pretty easy one as well. Honestly, the only thing that makes my job complicated at the moment is the load. That's all. There's just a lot to do... but it doesn't require too much thinking, like the one I had before.

Changes in the structure have changed since I've been here. It's strange how companies easily switch people's responsibilities like it's that easy. I heard last week that instead of handling one brand, I'll be a shares services person, helping out with several brands instead of just one. I shrugged at the thought. What's new? I've always handled more than one brand. Thank you, first job!

What's new with me and Miles, besides having a worse relationship? Haha. It's funny how whenever we improve in some aspects, we start to fail in others. He's much shorter with me, terrifyingly, irrationally shorter now, to be honest.... he now mocks me when I'm down. He doesn't like to spoil me anymore and do as I request no matter how much I explain to him it's what we, or I need. He doesn't think of me that much, but thinks too much about what other people would think of him. He's mostly real with me and hides behind several masks with other people. I wonder how many masks he uses on me?

I've declared myself single to him several times this year every time he shocked me with how much of an asshole he could be. He never fails to shock me in the bad attitudes he's been developing recently, but his old, albeit habits don't surprise me anymore. Despite this, I have a strange feeling he isn't cheating on me anymore. Then again, who am I to know? He just admitted to me this month that he does look at other women.... but denies that he checks them out. But notes that he notices that they're attractive. Um. Uh. Wha?

I couldn't get that mad--I notice good-looking people too. What scares me are the men around me. Deeply committed, but openly check women out in the absence of their wives/long-term girlfriends. I feel so bad for the ladies that I feel like intruding and telling on the assholes. One day. One day. :(

I can't help it. I've been there. Many of my loved ones have. I can't help but want to protect my fellow women from injustice.

I've become even more of a feminist now and I can't be any happier. I am educating people in little ways on how to be less sexist against women and LGBTs. I hope I'm helping somehow.

I've become more open to some concepts, too; objective and more accepting. Gay, bi children, giving them a bit more freedom than what I have (and I have a lot compared to other people my age), religion and non-religion, sentiments of various people based on age, culture, ethnicity, experience, et cetera. It's refreshing. You feel like you're above the Earth. You can see everything and don't have to take sides... while everyone else is chained by biases.

I wonder how things are going to end vetween Miles and I. Will we still be together or will we split up for real? He'll barely get to speak with me beginning next year... for almost two years because he picked a new job that requires that kind of intensive training (did that on a whim because he was mad at me... now we face the life-damaging consequences). I'm not sure we'll get to meet this holiday because even when he saves up more than enough to see me, I'm not sure I can take a three... or even two-week leave without getting fired.

When you're faced with problems like these, you need to address them, pronto.

Never run away.


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: Falling Out

Love

When Miles* and I met, we were both idealistic teenagers. We knew the distance was a hindrance to our relationship, but we met halfway, no matter what, and did our best to make up for what kept us apart. We talked for hours and hours everyday; we talked as much as we can. We couldn't get enough of one another. Each year, we got to know each other better; each year, it got easier to get mad at each other. Despite that, we stayed together. We were probably so glued together that even when we wanted to stay apart, we couldn't. We were inevitable.


Dreams

We were from different industries, all right. We knew this early on. As we set out to pursue our own dreams, we made sure that it'll work out for us in the long run. We had a few years to climb that ladder (our dreams); and once we're there, we would get more liberty. We won't have any problems getting together, because we followed the right path--a path that was our own. It didn't matter that it will take me a few years, having jobs unrelated to what I really wanted to do. What mattered was that in the end, we still get to fulfill that. We supported each other. Of course, we promised each other to do our best not to let our dreams get between us--because we were part of those dreams. 

We were in each other's minds every step of the way. We considered each other with every decision we made. We were far from perfect, but we still had our dreams in mind--and so we continue to pursue them. No matter what, we had to achieve what we wanted.


Ambition

I still want to be a Photographer. I think he still has the same dream he had five years ago. However, we both share the same current situation: we're stuck with jobs that we are good at, but don't have much to do with what we really want. First, we swore we would only let ourselves be separated for a couple of year. Additional years after that frustrated us. Him, actually. I was all right with it at first, considering that I needed more time working my way up. I actually wanted a promotion that would allow me to buy the equipment and pay for the training. As I started to like what I was doing for work, I kind of put my real dream aside from the time being.

Meanwhile, his difficult job that gave him no freedom to........ do anything he wished, was becoming a bigger threat to our relationship. With his temporary assignment abroad, and the very limited time for communication (barely an hour a week), and my distrust and paranoia, our already rusty relationship was literally about to fall apart.

I had been so frustrated with him recently. He was being selfish, rude, impatient, inconsiderate, oh, I could go on... and of course, his lack of effort to try to be nice was frustrating as well. You can leave him alone without any follow-up, and he will not be better. You can follow up, and he'll get mad at you for pointing out "negative things about" him that he claims to "know already", and... yes, you guessed it; still no improvement.

I need to fix myself, too. But knowing he is NOT doing anything to make himself better makes it hard for me to change. The only real problems about me? I am short with him, and I don't trust him enough. I identify the problem in our relationship and discuss it with him and come up with an action plan we both agreed would work. But whether or not I stop being a bitch, he still continues being an ass. Can you blame me 100% for blowing my top all the time? I needed to control myself--and he did, too. He doesn't hold back at all.

Realization hit me hard a couple of days ago when we fought. This isn't new--I knew at least a year ago that he was beginning to fall out of love. If that wasn't bad enough, I could tell he was starting to love me less and less. I think we're almost at the end of this relationship. He was ready to give me up. Whenever I think of leaving, he would stop me. He would get mad at me, even, because he thinks I'm just going to give up. But recently, when I bring up that possibility, he would agree to it. It was no issue to him.

In fact, before our last fight, he himself was trying to push me away. He was justifying his reason for a breakup--I didn't care anyway. He said that, at least three times. He then scared me, on purpose, by telling me he decided to take a job that will make things worse for us, that will keep us apart longer, make this relationship harsher and more painful. He was attacking me. He was trying to hurt me. He knew it would hurt me, so he said it. Later on, when I told him I was shocked he said that (he promised me, when he first started working, that he will take the safest job and one that was most convenient for our relationship so we wouldn't spend time apart so much) he probably lied to me about his job, he was quick to defend himself. "No, this is what I meant". He was quick to feign innocence. I misunderstood. I took it the wrong way. He didn't say it right. Yeah, you didn't just try to smash my head with words. Uh huh. Of course, my loving partner.

He told me he basically had no choice but to go with that job. After I pointed a shaking finger at him, and after he quickly held his hands up in innocence, he said it was the best choice among other options out there. So, there were options, then. The others just so happened to keep our relationship intact.... but he chose the one that would destroy us.

He decided it was the best choice for us (he was still covering his ass; if he weren't mad at me, he would've sobbingly informed me that none of the job options pleased him one bit because they all sacrificed something) for us (without informing me or considering my thoughts or feelings), and that all I have to do is "be stronger for him".

So, as the poor woman, the shadow of this man, I shall just quietly and meekly accept my fate--I will follow him wherever he goes, and take the pain like a champ. He shall decide for our future, and I shall have no say and just "be strong for him" so we can stay together. No, fucker. He was taking me for granted.

I gave so many things up for him--people, time, my health, my happiness. I sacrificed my career, friendships, a social life, good relationships with my relatives, money, without thinking twice--for him. Now he's just had enough of that. He's too sick of me (he used to say no matter what happens he'll love me and stay with me. He would tolerate the worst of my sins and I would do the same. Now it takes a single word to anger him and make him up and leave me... unfortunately I am not the same. At least not anymore.) now that he's finding ways to get away from me. This was probably how things ended with his last ex. He just wanted to get rid of her; but he couldn't even when she was crazy, because she was needy and he felt guilty. If guilt is the only thing keeping him around, God, help me, because I don't know what to do with myself.

This is going to sound pathetic, but he's all I really got left. He's the only genuine thing I can rely on. I would mention two others--my parents--but it would be selfish to do so. They're sick, and stressed, and have heavier crosses to bear that I just don't want to add to that weight. I don't have anything and I don't have anyone else. Before I met him, I had everything. I lost everything because I chose him. Now he's leaving me, too.

He took everything back. He said he wouldn't take that job but there's no telling what happens. I say there IS. He can avoid that at all costs, if he wants this relationship. If he picks it, then I know where his priorities lie. That will be the final factor that will determine whether or not he still feels a thing for me. 

He said that he would pick that job because it would give him more importance. And he will earn more money. The thing is, I don't believe the money part. He's been bragging about earning so much since he started working, and he's been broke for five years. The money argument won't work anymore. So, really, it's because he wanted that job. Here's mister hurry-the-fuck-over-here-so-I-can-wake-up-next-to-you-every-day, telling me to wait for 8,709 more years for him because he's all LOLJK HEY BRB GOTTA TAKE THIS AWESOME JOB STAY THERE, STAY. STAY. GOOD GIRL! BE STRONG FOR ME. KBYE

Moreover, he solidified his selfishness and inconsideration by saying he doesn't want to live a mediocre life and he doesn't want a "mediocre wife" who doesn't support him. He wants the perfect job and a perfect wife. The thing is, the job he's talking about isn't his dream. Of course I don't fucking support it. That wasn't the deal. It will hurt our relationship. Why would I be up for it? Why have the tables turned? He was the one who urged me to move in with him on our first and second years together. Now that I want that, he wants the opposite and wanted to pursue his career instead. He did everything to justify his decision. He said so many WRONG things, I hope he was sober. I don't want him to say it was the alcohol or stress or lack of sleep talking. If he was going to say hurtful things, he better not be fuzzy-brained.

I told him he can't always have everything he wanted. He said he could, because his career and his relationship are both under his control. 

Wow. I really am just an object, right? A shadow?

Meaning, no matter what, he has to have a perfect career and relationship--so he'll do anything for these to happen. If he had to get a better girl, one who is a total lost puppy unlike me, he will. He'll get rid of me. Because pursuing the career you want is easy.


Mediocre VS Non-Mediocre

He said he wants to be the best in anything he does. (Really? Why aren't you being the best boyfriend to me? You've been treating me like SHIT!) He wasn't a black belt for nothing.

I told him, sorry, I don't share the same sentiment. This was the first time I admitted this, even to myself. My mother called my grades mediocre, and I would get shit from my parents for having average grades--in elementary school, high school, and college. I didn't aim for the top. I thought it was silly. I secretly fantasized about doing that--about being just like my mom and my cousins... honor students who excelled in sports, dancing, debating, writing, organizing, leading, singing, etc. It was the first time I really accepted that it was okay to be who I am. I didn't care about being the best. I just wanted the best. I didn't have to be it.

I thought about all the things I did--from playing the guitar to writing to creating art to singing to doing martial arts to keeping fit. I never completely committed to any of them. They were all very important to me, but I didn't feel the need to constantly improve myself in them. They were like flings. They were like booty calls to me. I knew photography was the one; I knew it was the career I'll eventually find myself marrying. But what? I'm stuck with my booty calls 'til then. I am not a pro in any of these, not even close. Mediocre. That's right. I just want to do what I want to do, be able to do it properly with no pressure to be perfect at it. Unlike him. 


Reality

I remember my best friend telling me a couple of months ago that she almost broke up with her boyfriend. 

Guess why?

She decided on some things on her own. She made plans for her future without his consideration. Without consulting him. I thought it was the strangest thing to get mad about. Why would he get mad? They weren't married.

I didn't get it 'til it happened to me.



Tomorrow, when I get home, I'll get myself shitfaced.


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