Homeless

 I was browsing shows on one of the streaming platforms when I came across this popular Pinoy romance story about overseas Filipino workers (OFW) and finding home. 

Thus, despite the mediocre acting by the leads (well, lots of improvement, it's just that the dialogue felt stilted and unnatural at times), I found myself sniffling because of a few clips. Some scenarios just hit home, ya know? 

In this particular movie/sequel, a patient of the female lead wrote her a card before the patient passed. It was wishing the protagonist to choose love, and goes on a lengthy discourse why love is 'Joy' and love is like coming home. 

Cue waterworks. (c'mon, I'm a work in progress. Cut me some slack)

I guess one of the things that made me cry was realizing why leaving felt so traumatic. I lost my touchstone, my home. The one person who used to calm me down and ground me disappeared, replaced by a numb automaton. Anyone who has lost something so precious, so dear, will grieve for what was, and what could have been. And that's the boat where I am at, and I need to direct the boat to when it should take me.

But gosh-darn-it. I still want my happy ending. I thought I had it by someone cruelly gave it then took it back. 

Happy 'effin Birthday, Quiquay

 This year marks the 4th year my erstwhile stbx partner hasn't greeted me on my birthday. 

Whee! (/sarcasm/)

I guess I've known that while it still hurts so badly and the trauma wounds are still there, I think I'm ready to move on. I don't know if I'm ready to share my story to the world - like my traumatic early childhood, I don't want people to pity me, nor do I need the platitudes from them saying, "You're so strong. I would never be able to do that." Well, I don't want to have to be strong. I don't even want to have to worry or stress about family and my bills and everything I have to take care of but here we are and we just have to make do. 

So we move on. We get our own place (albeit rented) and start rebuilding our lives with this new normal. 

And Pilipinas, we need that divorce law stat.

A New Beginning

 I was supposed to be celebrating our wedding anniversary this weekend. Instead, the weekend was spent moving my stuff to the new rental (with a happy side trip to a friend's birthday party). After more than 2 decades of living with him (and my siblings before and after), I am on my own again. 

I find myself not minding - I think I'm looking forward to the solitude and peace (my siblings are not easy people to live with). I think I'm ready to move forward with my life too. I don't look at my FB's memories feature as often as I used to. I just hope this year proves to be luckier for my finances and overall health as well. It's not easy living with chronic pain. And my knees have become even more problematic. I think I really need a PWD ID. Darned perimenopause. 

Break Time

I have the weirdest friends - and yes, I'm also weird enough to be friends with most of the ex-boylets. Former co-worker Papa J was feeling the work stress seep in and out of the blue asked to meet up with him during my free time which, given my irregular work hours, just happened to be in the afternoon. Well, I was also feeling quite stressed and could use the break, so I went.

So after going past our destination twice on the highway (why are the signs so small?!) we finally found our destination, and without preliminaries, kinda went right down to business, albeit with a ton of apologies for a lot of possible unmet expectations. Hahaha. We are, after all, not as young as we used to be.  

But it is kind of weird how very little we disclose yet we totally get the other person. I still do mean it when I said before that I'm not interested in how he lives his life before and after just as he isn't interested in mine. There is a detached concern like one would have with a friend so I guess that's that. 

It was still kind of a pleasant afternoon, I guess, although yeah, lots of unmet expectations. No pressure. It is what it is. It is kind of nice rediscovering some things. Like I can still do multiples. In yo face, v. atrophy! Ha!

Cat's Out of the Bag Part 2

 I suppose my Aunt B and cousins deserve kudos for keeping my situation to themselves that I apparently surprised my other aunt just last weekend when I let it known I've left the house for more than 2 years. 

The potluck was a continuation of our post-Christmas lunch the other week - one of the events I specifically came back to the metro for after a few days at the province (the other one is a working business meeting and catch-up session with my fave collaborator J). Unfortunately, handling too many crystal bracelets took a toll on my energy source I succumbed to a bad case of colds/flu come New Year's Eve. Surprisingly, I didn't mind. I thought I'd feel lonely but I just wanted to sleep and recover from my flu.

Anyway, back to my slightly shocked aunt and other cousin who wasn't aware of the circumstances of my flight from furville. I laid it out simply, not assigning any blame on his case, assured her there were no third parties involved - unless you count parental trauma - and he simply drifted away to wrestle with his demons and emotionally abandoned his wife. 

My Aunt simply nodded and said I am strong enough to weather this storm - and my cousins agreed. Eh? Me? Strong? They said what I did took courage that they didn't have. 

Part of me is flattered. But there is also some part of me who is oh-so-tired or carrying this burden and would really like a bit of a break. Please? Fates?

Cat's Out of the Bag

 Whep, the cat's out of the bag now. My (paternal) aunts know about my situation, as do most of my close cousins. And amazingly, I am not judged at all. I thought I would be embarrassed and ostracized. Instead, I was met with understanding and support. 

We traveled to our hometown last weekend to attend one of our uncle's babang luksa (a kind of memorial), and on the way we caught up with each other. I already confided with one of my cousins months before and I sort of knew she'd tell my aunt (her mom) and her sister, and my aunt would tell her sister (my other aunt) so when my other aunt did not act surprised when we discussed how my life had been lately, I figured most of them knew. 

I haven't really been keeping it a secret - I just didn't want people to discuss and speculate about the situation and make it worse. In any case, perhaps normalizing what I did, which was leave and not tolerate a bad situation, goes a long way in making people understand that neglect and emotional abuse is never okay.

Whatever they think of me, I still think everyone's support is a blessing. I just hope I am worthy of their faith.

How Long Until...?

 I came across this excerpt from Emma Rose Byham from her book Was It Even Abuse?  that describes some of my experience when the H started spiraling into his depression and childhood PTSD rabbit hole. We tend to excuse a lot of behaviors from our partners as one-offs and tolerable because "he's not hitting me". We don't recognize the toxic pattern or constant negative comments, put-downs, explosive rants, and silent treatments because, "of course, if he hit me, I would leave him." 

But what if he doesn't really hit you? What if he's saying, "oh, I just picked her up from a random pile", or "oh, the old ball and chain?" What if he comes home, greets the dog, asks the dog how it was, feed, cuddle, and walk the dog, yet not speak a single word to you? What if he forgets your birthday because he thinks it isn't important enough? What if the silent treatment, when you've done nothing wrong, lasts weeks, or even months? "Oh, he's not hitting me. I don't think it's abuse."

So what is abuse? What sort of action becomes emotional abuse? 

What I do know is that I deserve to be loved, and cherished. I don't deserve to be punished for something I don't even know what.