Purple Oven

 Purple Oven.

That's my new goal. Not the brownie brand, although they do make one of my favorite brownies. A real, live, purple oven. A purple gas oven I can bake and cook with to my heart's content.

Why don't I buy it now? I can certainly handle the monthly installment. My card balance can cover the amount. 

But I don't just want an oven. I want what it comes with - a house I own outright, where I could bake and experiment on whatever I feel like doing. 

It wouldn't be too much to wish for my purple oven, is it? 

I'm not asking for kids, a yard and a house (with a decent retirement plan). 

Just a house and a purple oven. 

Mindshift

 I was filling out forms at the office when I caught myself about to check the "single" on the civil status section. And my only thought was, "Oh, yeah. I can't change my status yet," like an 'Oops!' 

The past me would've been teary-eyed and wistful. Today's me is angry and silently calling the H a coward for not having the guts to face his demons and find a solution. Guess he thought his highly-capable W could cope just fine. Damn right she can. She's surrounded by idiots of the opposite sex - if she wants something to happen, she needs to do it herself.

So that's it. Twenty-five years defined by a single "meh" reaction. Or maybe it's just a cycle. I still want to throw dishes at his direction.

Stages of Grief

I am mourning my marriage, I acknowledge that. As that popular animated film K-pop Demon Hunters song "Free" said, "We can't fix it if we never face it". So here I am, facing my shame, defeat, and failure. 

Except the survivor in me is protesting those emotions. Why should I feel shame? Why should I claim defeat and failure? I did nothing wrong. I did everything right. I was supportive. I faced my partner's issues. I begged him to fix it. I asked him to heal himself. I left so he wouldn't have to stress about taking care of me (and also because his silence and his ignoring me were becoming unbearable. It was emotional abuse, and he didn't know any better. I left because this was a deal breaker for me.) 

Anyway, I even gave him the tools he needed to heal, d@mn it! I wasn't the spoiled wife we liked to show in public at all. I was slowly teaching him the tools to help him feel more secure and handle adversities on his own. I made him feel secure. I was the least troublesome wife there was. I humored him, kept things interesting, tried not to be too demanding (except for food and the number of hugs he had to give daily). I even got him a dog, despite my allergies. 

If this feels like a rant post, it probably is. It just feels so unfair to do almost everything right and still fail spectacularly. So, after 3 years of crying and heartache, I'm on the anger stage. My weirdness really comes out in the strangest times. This emotion usually comes in the beginning stages of grief, not at the tail end. Maybe it's because things have been in limbo for so long my patience has worn thin. And as more people are aware of my situation, the injustice of it all is making me feel annoyed and mad at him for being so slow in the uptake. Like why do I have to suffer his emotional incompetence? He's not the only one with childhood trauma in this relationship. I handled my shit long before he came to the scene. I deserve the same courtesy.  

 

Crazy Episode

Every once in a while I find myself in these crazy situations where I shouldn't be at in the first place. My curiosity sometimes gets the best of me. Luckily, sometimes I discover something about me that I haven't known before. 

But honestly, I don't understand my appeal. I mean, I know I'm smart and passably cute, albeit on the way-overweight side. Probably a nice 7 or 8 on the personality scale. However, I am rather outspoken, opinionated, and definitely not domesticated. I mean I do know my way around the house but it's never been a priority. I would rather hire a cleaning service than spend hours on deep cleaning.

Anyway, is it a badge of honor to know may asim pa rin ang lola nyo? lol

It's the Little Things

If you ask someone what they miss about a loved one or a partner that has moved on, they often say it's the little things - the way they would be delighted at the most random things, the smile, holding hands, a hug, or a humorous exchange. 

They miss the warmth of human companionship that only comes from a nurturing and loving relationship. 

I do too. I know that I left on my volition, but our relationship was devoid of this warmth long before I decided to leave. When he said he wasn't planning on seeking therapy anytime soon, rejecting my help, or anyone for that matter - I felt like that was it. Recovery from mental health issues can't happen if one is unwilling to heal themselves. Even the numb ones I've come across have reached out and asked their family, friends, or partners to help pull them out of the darkness. So yes, I don't understand why that supposedly smart STBX won't. Am I not worth the risk of opening up? Does he think I'm strong enough so I should just suck it up and stay? Should I tolerate being treated worse than the dog in my own home? Should I stand by and get sick from all the allergens floating about when he clearly knows they are making me sick? 

I dread asking this question but I need to say it out loud - does he not love me anymore? 

I understand that work stress aggravated his childhood trauma and the numbness is just a defense mechanism. It was my hubris, my belief that I at least taught him enough skills and provided him with enough stability to be able to cope and heal. As it turned out, I'm not enough against intergenerational trauma, especially for a sensitive and gifted boy who thinks he's smarter than everyone else. 

Oh well, as one of my aunts said, it is what it is. Nu dina kayat ken ania ngay maaramidentayo?

Still, my father taught me not to give up, so I'm certainly not giving up on people. But darn it, how can I move on then?

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.

Winter

 I chanced upon this webtoon one day with a rather weird title (There's a Rat in the House) and decided to check it out (Of course, it helps that it has an 18+ rating (hehehe). But apart from the risque scenes which are normal in most adult romantic relationships, it's a typical boy-meets-girl story, except that this time, it's the girl who rescues the boy one winter night.

Further into the chapters, despite not being able to relate to the girl's motivation and selfishness, I realized what made it resonate with me. It sort of the hubby's story. I was that warmth he clung to that winter. and when the demons of his past became too overwhelming, the warmth left him.

I do feel somewhat guilty, because I should be somewhat responsible for his mental well-being. But even after leaving all the tools and lessons I've taught him over the years, He is stubbornly clinging to old patterns even I no longer recognize. I thought my love and patience would be rewarded by a healed heart but I guess I'm still no match for generational trauma. 

Let's face it Q, in this case, you are not enough.

Cue waterworks.

Next Episode

*trigger warning: suicidal thoughts

_________

I was watching this k-drama series one day and the male lead said something that stuck with me. He was very sick before and undergoing painful treatments. He was asked what helped him go through his ordeal. He answered that while being treated, to pass the time, he would watch dramas. He would get so hooked on a story that he began looking forward to the next episode. 

The next episode. My life is in the middle of no man's land right now, hard to define and with no definite direction. I'm supposed to be smart, and I tried to be sensible in my choices. Well, look where that landed me. Middle-aged, broken, and stuck. 

But it would be unfair to blame anyone for my predicament. I guess it's a win that I left an unbearable situation - not in search of something better, but to protect what we used to have and give space for both parties to heal. Well, gee whiz Q, you're still an effin' mess. One step away from a full-blown depression and stuck with prickly siblings who, on an average day, makes you want to go in the middle of a highway and let a speeding vehicle smash your head to smithereens. (I am a rather vain person so I really don't understand why my dark thoughts latched on this idea. I want to look pretty when I lie on my wake as a corpse, d@mnit!)

In the middle of all this, my sense of responsibility won't let me take a single step out the door to implement this rather detailed, macabre, and messy plan. Plus, I've invested in so many storylines in so many dramas, novels, anime, webtoons, and even sports that I'm motivated to go on to the next day, and the next, in anticipation of watching, reading, or witnessing the next episode or season. 

Life may be hard, but it's still this wonderful tapestry of emotions, thoughts, events, and special moments that I can't wait to witness what's coming next. I still want to look at the rest of my life with optimism. I want to watch the next event, travel to the next destination, discover the next chapter. I want to fall in love again, and be loved and cherished again. Or, if that is too late for me, be filthy rich enough to send an "up yours" to the person who made me this way. 

As my sibling said once in anger, "How dare he?!"

Yup, he's probably not as smart as he thinks he is. 

Next!

Touchstone

I lost my touchstone. 

I have mild anxiety issues. They're mostly manageable, and they're usually work related so in the past, most days I just needed a hug from the hubby and I would be good to go. I playfully referred to him as my touchstone and sometimes just a light touch with him and I would feel all is right in the world. I am recharged and I could face the world again. 

But then, the demons of his past caught up to him, and with massive pressure from work, his normally happy demeanor crumbled. Even my presence and attempts to help did nothing to halt his depression. Two decades of hard work to improve his self-esteem, his emotional quotient down the drain. I couldn't help prevent the crash - I wasn't the one driving. 

The irony is that this once-simp-y partner who did everything to make me stay with him at the beginning became apathetic and uncaring. And I have too much self-worth and self-love to subject myself to that kind of emotional torture. My parents did not raise a matyr. 

So I left two years ago and I'm still waiting for him to come around. Looks like that day isn't coming. In the meantime, he has erased most of me from the house we used to share - most of my knick-knacks and clutter are gone. I guess I should see the writing on the wall.

No choice but to move on. One agonizing step at a time.

Fantasy

 I feel like I'm living in Fantasy Land these days - not because something wonderful is happening in my life - but because everything-is-out-of-whack Fantasy Land is the only place where life makes sense.

Male lead meet-cutes Female lead. 

Male lead finds Female lead irresistible. 

Male lead fights off other males around the Female lead, marking his territory.

Male lead confesses/courts Female lead. 

Female lead falls for Male lead. They become a couple. 

Leads face relationship/life challenge. They overcome and grow stronger.

They live happily ever after. 

(Or, if you want genders reversed, or same genders involved, that works too. )

This makes sense, because it's logical, because they work together, because they overcome their challenges. Person 1 declares undying love (or endless simping) for Person 2. 

My reality doesn't make sense. I did everything right. Everything still went horribly wrong. I did my time, I did all the hard work. I made him such a green flag even his family's amazed. But I am no match for a stubborn partner and an even more stubborn childhood trauma that won't resolve itself. 

But wait, am I not equipped to handle that? 

I am, but I'm not even allowed in. I had the door shut down several times. I can't help someone who refuses to be helped.

So I'm stuck in Fantasy Land as a temporary coping mechanism as I navigate my own sense of loss and trauma. I am no longer the cherished and much-beloved partner. I have been discarded and set aside. 

Where's my happy ending? 

Overqualified

This was the first time I was being let go for being.... overqualified. Argh, the universe is so not on my side these days.

 

So my sister referred me to this new agency that was looking for remote executive assistance. Since it was my wheelhouse and my other work was manageable, I tried it out. And was surprised when a bunch of obviously pirated training materials were dumped on us with instructions to watch the videos and create a new training outline. 

After delivering that outline, and making suggestions on how to create the company's own brand, we were given another task. And got praised for stellar results. But my colleague who had more frequent errors and mistakes passed the screening and I was let go. I just had to laugh but I'm too much of a professional to be bitter about it. And actually even handed the right words to say to the client. Which is even funnier in hindsight. Oh well, when it's not a good fit, it's not a good fit. We just move on.

Seems like a perfect analogy for the rest of my relationships nowadays. You give too much for too little or no ROI. 

Restart

When your laptop freezes and you need it to continue, what do you do? Make a hard restart, that is. Stop everything you're doing, pray you've saved something, and restart all systems.

Looks like a perfect analogy for my life. Middle-aged, a partner frozen by his complex childhood traumas and current depression, and me in despair on how to deal with everything. I cannot tolerate being ACTIVELY ignored, all attempts at engaging and helping immediately shot down. I was not raised to be a martyr and I love myself enough to care about how it's affecting me. I love my partner, but I won't stand to stay still and just roll with the punches. This is akin to emotional abuse already, regardless of his condition. He still has all his mental faculties so no, if I am to live a healthy life, I have to leave the situation. Which is what I did more than a year ago while I wait for him to come to his senses. He's still not there, and I have no idea when he'll get around to realizing I was the best thing to come to his life and that he needs me in his life. But do I need him back in mine? I have my own problems, and I have to keep everyone together since our parents passed. I just hope we all emerge from this crisis whole and well.

Heartbreak

Note: I wrote this one a year ago, when things took a turn for the worst, and I was seeing no progress in the situation. I felt like the rug had been pulled from under me. I was no longer a cherished spouse. I was a stranger. After 2 decades of being together, it was ennui that broke us apart. 

******* 

04222022


I finally broke down. 

This was my first full-on, ugly cry since I noticed a change from the lakay about 2 months ago; about 7 weeks from him dismissing my birthday, and 3 weeks since he admitted he thinks he has depression. As a psych graduate, we’re more attuned than most on psychological disorders and I immediately honed in on asking him to go to a doctor to get tested, a prescription, and sessions to give him the skills to work through it. I was shut down immediately. 

Since his announcement two weeks ago, I’ve been on tether hooks trying to understand and cope. I know I am not at fault, and I would be crazy to blame myself for his condition. But to sit idly by while he suffers and I suffer from the stress, confusion, and anger that my world is crumbling down. I’m used to being the adored wife, not the ignored one. 

I could bear my ego taking a trashing - I’m used to it and I can be pretty resilient given time (and a lot of self-reflecting). But what I can’t bear is a car crash waiting to happen. It’s right in front of my eyes, it’s about to happen, and I can’t sit idly by. 

My head keeps coming back to those vows we made 14 years ago, to stick together “in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, in days of laughter and tears.” Darn it, I always keep my promises, and this shouldn’t be any different. You haven’t exactly shared the tears yet, but that’s okay. I am strong enough for both of us. I need to be. 

Hello Again

I have been suffering from a humongous writer's block for the longest time and I thought maybe this entry would house some of  my ramblings and get me going (so I can finally finish a lot of my pending projects).

It is hard, though, when your sanity seems to be hanging by a thread and grief comes at me like a mack truck without warning. I miss my mom badly. And I've been putting off writing anything about it because it's like being trapped in a living nightmare when I relive her last year and last days. It's not easy trying to hold yourself together and continue to function a mere few minutes later because, let's face it, life goes on.

So, hello again. I will have to continue with life and try to honor my mom's memory by helping others as much as I can once more. I know she's smiling down from heaven at us.