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Friday, June 26, 2015

The story of the small one

Is this the right place to share this? I don't exactly know but I want to share it anyway. :)

It's 4 am here in the Philippines and I am reviving my blog. I don't know why I am writing this but maybe I just wanted to have a place where I can be free.

I always give myself to people. I love it. As much as possible, in spite of the tons of work I do in a day, I make time to people who need someone to talk to or be with in their lowest moments; someone who would want to understand them. I just listen, console pray for and with them. And at this very moment, I want to talk but have no one to talk to. I am still in my sound mind and heart. LOL I just feel I needed a place to talk about my own story.

I grew up meek and silent just drawing my feelings all the time. They said I was a loner. I was bullied a lot of times until this very day. I was diagnosed of Depression when I was in high school apart from my heart and lungs being weak. I was a norm in the hospital. Ironically, I took up nursing instead of any art related courses and my depression I left untreated.

So my life, like everyone else's life was tough. I didn't like nursing. There are so many things I didn't like. I broke up with the only person who wants to understand me. A year after that, that same guy dumped me for another girl. And I haven't dated much since. Glad to still have my best friend around to hang out with me; because I was so comfortable being alone in my comfort zone, I didn't have much friends. I jumped from one job to another. I got bullied at work to the point of worsening my depression. Basically, I was wrong in the perspective of society's basis of acceptance. So I went home with my family; stayed close to them; searched my heart and soul; searched for my spiritual peace and joy; and enjoyed the company of friends.

And I was still lonely.

In 2012, I attempted to end my life. It wasn't the first time I did it, but it was the first time I realized I was so tired; of both fighting to win at life and giving up. I submitted myself to treatment. I attended my therapy sessions. I took my medicines religiously. I created good morning habits. I eliminated toxic people, which I finally had the courage to do because I am the type who wants to keep everyone because I know how it feels to have nobody to want to keep me. And I was okay.

But I was still craving for something else. I put myself in remission (which is wrong); which means I just decided on my own to abruptly stop everything. I stopped taking medications. I stopped attending my therapy sessions. I stopped my morning habits (for a while). I just went to a chapel. I just sat there. I gave up giving up. I don't have anything more to lose because I already lost myself in the process. I basically just have no purpose. And when I realized that nothing really lack in me, I started feeling free.

So I went to the chapel everyday. Until eventually started joining the prayer rituals of older people. I really liked it. It rekindled my childhood days when I always loved to pass by our school chapel in the morning to pray and visit the sister's convent to talk to the nuns. And by the way, wanted to be one. I felt close to God again.

But I am the type of person who loves deeply. And the more I get deeply in love with what I do, the more I want to do more, be more and love more. I kept going to the chapel, started really reading the bible from start to finish. I spent my days reflecting and listening to what God has to say. I was not forced to work. That's all I can do for that particular moment. And I took my time efficiently by studying the bible and consulting to older people and priests when I have questions.

It motivated me to do more. So I went to a small convent near the chapel and met with the orphans there. Kids! I love kids. I started recovering my inner artist with them. I brought in my own art materials and we shared. I started feeling valued and started feeling my worth. I kept doing it. And even started to do workshops, summer that.

And then came Yolanda in 2013, and the person who stood with me the most in my toughest days almost died with her family. But God loved and blessed them so much to survive. All glory to God. I almost lost my best friend and the older sister that I never had.

That incident motivated me to do more. So, I started volunteering and donating boxes of in-kind goods. I started moving and acting more. I did enough. And yet, I wanted to do more.

Then came an invitation from my brother to attend christian fellowship and service. Without hesitation, I said yes. And we went. And it was the best experience of my life. I felt I belong. So I fell in love with it, my family and I religiously attended Sunday service. And on March 9, 2014, just two weeks after my birthday, I received the holy spirit and submitted myself to Christ. And the rest of my life started falling into place.

I started my own private project that I introduced to some close friends (along the way); our very own "Christmas Daily" project. I did a lot of subtle artworks while listening to praise and worship songs. I started joining art competitions again. But this time, I got asked to be a member of an art organization and all else followed. I enrolled myself to graduate school courses for engaging in art and clinical psychology. I got that interest from attending my therapy sessions.

God also revealed to me to build a happy place (together with my best friend of two decades) where we can use our profession and passion. Hence, months after that, Artventure was born. And the rest of what I do, like serving my family, church, different communities (with different partners), exhibiting my artworks, doing private counseling and many others just fell into place by God's providence.

All these explain why I really felt so overwhelmed and happy by God's goodness and mercy. I was won by His perfect love. I existed for a long time and it's not so long ago that I actually started living. And it is so humbling, because from where I came from, all glory to God. I don't deserve. And I know, as I keep going, He will keep bringing me to greater places, just as He had planned for me.


Saturday, April 19, 2014

The beginning of a not so fairy tale story

Easter Sunday 2014

There's so much beauty in acceptance. I guess I really can't escape the fact that I have had several episodes of Major Clinical Depression in my life. I guess no matter how far I am now from being sick, it will always be a part of my story.. and well, my whole journey.

I just want to share a fraction of my journey.

The beginning of a not so fairy tale story

There was once a little girl
her hair is short
her cheeks so pale
she barely smiles
she draws all day
she loves to watch the rain
she likes to be alone
playing in the background
is an old familiar song
there is sorrow in her eyes
there is paint in her hands
but contrary to what she felt
were beautiful thoughts in her mind
she flies everywhere
she floats in the sea
but it's not what it seemed
she called them "dreams".

I had a music box before and I could still hear the music playing in my head especially during rainy days. The song was a classic ballad. It was "Over the rainbow".

Happy Easter everyone! :)