Why is it that when realize that we have given out too much, we tend to withdraw? Is it because we ‘re afraid that people won’t reciprocate or because our sense of self-preservation kicks in and we want to reveal as little about ourselves as possible? Or perhaps it’s because we believe that resistance is futile; that no matter what we do we can’t supersede what is already perceived as the convenient truth?

There is definitely an answer to this question–or some scientific research about the human psyche that would explain this phenomena, but admit it, it does happen every once in a while. And I write about this because I believe this is big for me; that somehow figuring this one out would lead me to a personality change that would otherwise never be conquered.

You may think withdrawal starts when we experience rejection, but in this case it is quite the contrary. It was once mentioned...

Here’s the thing about revenge: it blows things out of proportion.

For some of us (myself included), perfection is the answer to every chaos. If we’re lucky and things go smoothly, we never feel the need to better ourselves. But once tricky events start happening, we are forced to go out of our comfort zones and really test our sanity.

I am very critical about myself. About the way I look, speak, walk, or project myself. In fact I am very aware about the details of my life, that I tend to obsess when things go haywire. This is detrimental for me because it paralyses me in a way that it leads me further into a sinking hole, and sometimes I’m surprised that I can still make it out alive.

From the me, who has so lost for a very long time.
Sometimes it wouldn’t matter who you are to the world. In a sense, we are just a speck in the entire universe. What is a speck? A speck is nothing. We might have dreams and aspirations and feelings, but truly, it only matters in our own little space.

If I’m completely being honest, what would I say to myself then, and what would I say to myself now?

Before I used to say…
You should be like this.
The other person is better.
Maybe his opinion does really make sense.
It doesn’t matter what I say or think or feel, because I can understand better.
I am flexible and can always adjust.
I can do it.

But, saving the world did not help me.

I did become kind. I tried to be gracious, I tried to please everybody. I was compassionate to everyone around me, because I believe that they have their own sufferings.

Where did that get me?

This sounds...

It was the night that everything changed for me. If only things were right… If only I had no trouble with my metabolism, my episodic laziness and boredom, my slump. My life has been a major clusterfuck recently, what with all the debts and the binge eating and overspending, plus the constant smoking and neverending cycle of feeling hopeless, angry, frustrated then bliss. Just that pure “ignore everything” feeling, trying to summon all the energy that’s left to wake up another day and fight again. No wonder some people just get tired for all the things that are happening.
So where am I now? Back to square one, of course. Sometimes I wish I could just skip all the trouble and just be the perfect ideal human being everybody thinks I am. Now, I’m just nothing, a train wreck waiting to happen. I’m constantly late at places now, I don’t give a rat’s ass to anything that has been happening to...

I cannot hurt myself like this.

This is the only way I could self-destruct, and I hate it. I do not revel in the idea that I am hurt and I am hurting myself more by doing this – by stress eating.

So where did the downward spiral start?

Because I am not my own person and I didn’t know what I want in life?
Because I didn’t know what I would stand or bend for so I am endlessly swayed by the players in my life?
Or is it because I love so much, that people blame me for doing so?

It all boils down to what other people want.

Because of some fucked up reason, I learned not to crave for what I really want but instead give and give and give to those who need me. Take my family, for example. Our past tells us that we love each other so much therefore it is only normal to want to spend time with each other. That, I think is the center of it all. They know how much I love the people in my life...

If you ever suffered from binge eating, or getting drunk off your ass, then you’ll know exactly what I am talking about in here.

First, you experience something dreadful– something out of your control. You might think you’re holding it all too well, but if you’re being honest, you will probably admit that you can literally see that control slipping from your hands. You then try to patch it up with some temporary band-aid, or sometimes even ignore it altogether, thinking that it will pass and you’ll soon be back to normal.

But then a binge meal turns into a binge fest; you get wasted and sick to your stomach and panic starts to set in. You begin to question everything, but not at all ready to hear the answers. You look at your “control” S.O.P., superficially analyzing what went wrong and la-di-da, but to no avail.

WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED, you ask.

You wanna throw up.

Then you...

I can feel the right type of energy flowing through my veins… I just woke up from a week-long slump and boy does it feel so good. Gone are the days that I question my own skills and integrity, and everything that’s happening to me. Gone are the days that I make excuses for things I cannot achieve. And most importantly, gone are days wherein I feel so annihilated because I can’t seem to get anything right.

My recovery isn’t forced either. Without him this slump I was in would’ve continued for a longer span of time, and I would’ve relied solely on defective tools to stop me from drowning in my own shit. It is amazing how someone who really loves you can understand and recognize your weakest points and knows what to give you, when to give it, and how to give it– even if you never asked for it.

Bad things happen for a reason; for years I have known that the reason why this cycle keeps...

Before, I refused to be controlled. That might be because for the last 23 years no one ever dared to conquer me or consume me the way he does now. And I get it. I am a stubborn woman; I am also very strong and independent. I have a one-track mind, wherein I do what I think is best for me, and I get excited about planning ahead about my personal goals. Especially recently when I decided that I will always put myself first and that I will never settle. Nor will I ever allow anyone to step on my morals again.

Add that to the fact that I try to always be sure about what I want. After years of uncertainty, I finally gained confidence that I know where I’m going and what specific steps to do to take me there. When I say I know what I want, that means I see not only the big picture, but the smallest of details too. I refuse to allow myself to be vague about anything– whether it be where I want...

I set my sights on someone.
I start thinking about how everything would be perfect between us.
I wait for him to text me, and be happy when he does.
When he doesn’t text me, I wait for a while.
When he still doesn’t text me, I text him.
And then I wait for his response.
Then I tell myself not to wait for his response, why even bother, he’s probably not as perfect for me as I thought, somebody who really likes me would reply to my texts, or would actually take time to text me, blah blah blah.

And then I distract myself, try not to look at my phone, or try to forget my phone altogether. And then even after hours of distraction, I would go back to it and peek, and if there’s still no text, I slowly sink into sadness, a.k.a. rejection mode, where I start to question my own self.

There are two questions that I want to slap myself with:

1. Why do I f****** bother?
2. Why can’t I be a cool bitch...

Here I am months later, still at the very first place where I started: square one. It is quickly becoming a cycle, and I don’t like it one bit.

There are things I think I like to do but don’t want to, and there are things I think I need to do but can’t seem to start to do so. Sometimes I don’t even believe myself anymore, and I don’t like hearing my thoughts about that either.

Anyway, it seems to me that “I” myself don’t really matter to me. It’s the other people that does. I think that family really matters, and the thought that they love me, respect me, and adore me is one of the greatest things I’ll ever have.

I am once again suspended in this dark place, where I am being threatened to be devoured by my own personal weaknesses. What I think I want and what I actually do are two different things, and it hurts me to know that I don’t trust myself.

I want to wake up tomorrow feeling...