cradleaine

[cradleaine]

napapamuni-muni, sa kawalan ng huni

[cradleaine]

i'm so madly in love i don't know how to express it

[cradleaine]

It's the New Year again.

The look you gave me around this time last year is still tattooed in everything I see. I try to keep it as fresh as possible; its bittersweet taste reminds me of life—the very thing you took care of so delicately.

“New Year na ba?” you asked me. I confirmed, as nonchalantly as possible. I think underneath the strong facade, I knew what was coming. It hurt to expect that. I never wanted to lose you. I don’t even believe in God, but even I know that he knows how much  wanted you to stay for longer. “Happy New Year, apo ko,” you said. Tears started rolling down your face. I tried to stop mine. I kissed you on the head, returned the greeting, and went to bed.

I think I’ve always known that it would be the last New Year’s greeting I would ever get the chance to tell you. I just didn’t want to accept it. I knew that losing you would be my biggest loss, so even acknowledging it felt like I was betraying you.

I am so sorry for holding back, Lola.

I have a lot of regrets with everything that went down. I know you don’t want me blaming myself, but I also know that you deserved better. You and mom deserved better than me. I am so, so sorry for failing you.

Now, I can’t help but notice the much larger spaces in the house. The silyon is gone. Your room hasn’t witnessed life since you left. The soap container in the shower remains empty. Everything that used to be yours has little to no trace of you anymore, and it breaks my heart every day.

My heart breaks for all of the new people you won’t get to meet. My heart breaks for all of the old friends you won’t get to witness growth from. My heart breaks for me and all the love in me that has nowhere to come home to. Most especially, my heart breaks for you, because each and every day is a day you would’ve loved to experience with every person who loves you.

I’m an hour short away from the New Year. All I know is that I miss you so badly. Is it too selfish of me to wish for you to be here? The Earth bears so much pain and despair upon its tenants, but deep in my heart, I know that a lot of it would be more bearable with you still around.

There is not a day where I don’t think of you and mom. There is not a decision where I don’t consider your opinions. There is not an achievement where I don’t wish to make you proud.

A lot of battles have made me consider giving up, but I fight because of you and mom. I can’t afford to waste everything you have sacrificed for me. I’m so thankful for everything that I have right now, all of them monumental because of you two, but I am so, so hurt.

Happy New Year. I’ll be waiting for you two in my dreams. Rest easy and rest well, Lola. Mahal na mahal kita.

[cradleaine]

?

Loneliness does not choose a time or place anymore. In the 23 years that I have lived on this Earth, being lonely isn't something foreign; growing older and getting wiser as an only child, this nagging feeling is a package deal with every decision I make. After all, I may have my mother to celebrate milestones with, but she will never be someone who can understand me in the way that I need. That isn't her fault, bur it's an undeniable, miserable fact.

Time has taught me how to identify and manage this loneliness. After all, constant exposure to it gives you no choice but to embrace it and take it everywhere you go. It took some time to recognize what it was, but the moment we met face-to-face, I knew it was a companion that would stay, even after saying goodbye. Which, come to think of it, would sound nice if it were something else, but alas, it's really the one reason we crave for hellos and see you agains. At this point, I don't think I can ever get rid of it, no matter how hard I try.

Don't get me wrong - I have really good friends. These are relationships I am proud of and am so thankful for. I don't see much of this going on in other people's lives. But at the end of the day, it still isn't enough. These people come home to their own lives, where families are in tact, and for that fact alone, I know that my slumber will never be comparable to theirs.

I have a very complicated relationship with my Tita, the only person that's left in my socially considerable immediate family (I say this because if we were to base it on paper, I don't have anyone we can consider immediate family members anymore). Our relationship has been tainted by years of trauma that's both unresolved (hers) and unfolding (mine). So as touching as the story may sound for people who don't really personally know us, I can't force myself to be the goodie two shoes niece anymore. I'm too old and a little too wise to be tricked into the blood is thicker than water preach. But I don't hate her. I don't like her too much, too, though. Family is complicated.

I also have a pretty awesome boyfriend, who, by the way, just gifted me a kitten. They make me so happy and make me feel so, so loved. For the first time in probably my entire life, I try to see a future with someone.

But I feel like these aren't enough. During downtime, I am still alone, figuring out what to do with myself. How to help myself. How to make it through the entire day with a sane mind. I feel so alone most of the time, and I don't know how to put an end to it.

There has got to be something wrong with me.

[cradleaine]

Did you change your mind, love?

[cradleaine]

WLW MEME: [6/9] tv characters – robin buckley (stranger things)

I’m having this problem where it’s like, I should stop talking. I have said everything I need to say. But then I guess I get nervous, and the words they just keep spilling out, and it’s like my brain is moving faster than my mouth, or rather, my mouth is moving faster than my brain. And it’s like I’m digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging, and I’m trying to stop digging, but I can’t. And I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?

[cradleaine]

my javelin

Time is a social construct. It’s such a mundane element of each of our days, just sitting on top of screens or hanging on walls or hugging our wrists, just reminding us to measure our lives and our jobs and hobbies. It’s a universal metric, and the way we understand time will always remain the way it is—that an ideal life is a life with equally split fractions spent for equally productive and progressive things worth doing.

Unlike others, recently, I spend my time quite differently. I don’t split my day planning productivity nor analyzing the potential of each second. Instead, I sit and wait for you to call.

Not in a crazy, obsessed way; it’s more of an “I miss you and would like to spend every moment with you” way.

Because that is the truth: I miss you most of my time. I want to see you and keep talking to you. I want to sit next to you. I want to lay in bed quietly with you. I want the most boring, ordinary things, but only when I can share it with you. Because that’s who you are: happiness and safety and warmth. I want all of these things and more, and I only ever want to recognize these everyday things with you.

I describe our relationship with likeness to a sunny Sunday morning. Perhaps a few hours before a festival that has been looked forward to by everyone for weeks, or the one field trip our high school selves were so excited for we barely slept the night before. That moment of waking up and immediately knowing there’s something really good to look forward to—it’s happiness on instinct. Sometimes, I wonder how you do it because in theory, there isn’t much spectacle going on; like I said, everyday things with you make every day much more bearable.

We are young and still a little clueless about the world, but we’re all I could ever ask for. I see us as a safety net for my sanity, because Jesus Christ, you’ve picked me up and put me all together more times than I expected, and for that, my heart is truly warm.

I’ve always pulled myself back from expressing these very intensely overwhelming emotions because I worry it’s too soon. Time has not ripened enough for most people to call this love, but I look back to when the spark started, and I think: time is a social construct and such a mundane element of each of our days, so I’d rather say it too soon than, God forbid, lose the chance to because it’s too late.

It’s true that I don’t spend my time planning productivity, but if I were to define an ideal life filled with things worth doing, most of them would be with you. And I don’t care about how time judges how I feel about you—you are here, constantly vying for a spot in my tomorrows (which I would grant without a doubt), and that is enough for what we know and what we have.

I never want to schedule a life without you anymore, so please, don’t go anywhere.

[cradleaine]

watched as you signed your name, marjorie

It didn’t use to be like this.

I know what to do now more than ever. Over the past few months, I feel like a lot of things were taken off my shoulders, and that allowed me to unapologetically learn and do most of what I wanted. I didn’t have that much freedom prior the past five months. I had these worries because I never wanted to be away from home for longer than I was supposed to. It was never something against my will, but it was definitely something that was holding me back. Right now, I am not afraid to admit that anymore. That is the truth. But I also do not blame anyone for the circumstances I was put in. I acknowledge that no one wanted to suffer in the same degree as we all collectively did. Now, with all this time and energy, I am able to do things and not consider someone else’s needs, and I hate to admit that it’s a relief.

That’s the thing: I don’t want it to be a relief. It came at the expense of someone else’s life--someone I never wanted to leave, ever--and I suffer most days looking for scents and voices that I will never smell nor hear again. Grief still sits beside me; it embraces me at random moments. To be honest, I never want to get rid of it if it means keeping a connection with someone I feel like I never got the chance to fully express my love for. I guess accepting this relief comes with regret, and honestly, I’ll take it.

But it didn’t use to be like this. There is relief, for sure, but more invisible parts of losing her linger the corners of every place I occupy. I couldn’t seem to ignore the nuance of someone’s absence like it’s an itch I couldn’t find or a ringing sound I can’t identify. So many minimal changes happened all at once, and I’m not sure if it’s the universe’s way of telling me that life will never be the same after her passing or if it’s just a big lifestyle shock to my now 23 years of living under the same roof. Either way, it’s not too obvious, but things are so different now, and I don’t know what to do about them.

Ironic, isn’t it? I started this telling you that I have figured out many things over the past few months, but here I am continuing to self-pity over my actually miserable life, because it’s a side no one ever gets to notice. I’m not sure if I’d like to keep it that way, because I very obviously need help in a lot of aspects of my life, but as of the moment, I just feel like staying paralyzed would be the most comfortable choice to make. Perhaps this is how I manifest my grief, because as calm and composed as I am on the outside, I am quite sure that I am never moving on. It’s just not something I can get over. 

I’d list down every single small issue I’ve noticed since she passed, but that is going to take too much time and space. To give you an idea, it feels just like all of your home furniture has been moved an inch to the left: everything remains parallel, but something just does not feel right.

I meant it when I said that things didn’t use to be this way when she was still here. Everything feels so disorganized. Relief is useless when there are so many minor inconveniences that I can’t fix because I know that this house will never be the same without her. It just feels like It will never, ever feel normal without her in it. 

To this day, I still wish I’d wake up from a long, long dream. I’d take the teenage angst and confusion of 2016 over this any day.

[cradleaine]

gaslight

gatekeep

girlboss

mansplain manipulate manwhore

[cradleaine]

three in three days.

I have so much on my plate right now lmao. I really don’t know how to address my thoughts coherently anymore. I just go with the flow. Feels like I’m fighting for my life.

This is one of those times where I’m scrambling to overstimulate my brain. I don’t want to perceive anything else right now. I put on my Buds Live and turned up my Taylor Swift playlist as if it depends on my life. (It does.) I don’t even hear myself typing on my computer lmao. I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to be angry because I don’t want to fight because I can’t handle being upset because I always want to hurt myself and I don’t want to go through that because quite frankly I don’t have time for a suicide plan.

On a really minor note, my resignation turns three in three days. Not sure how I feel about it. I thought I healed enough to joke about it publicly, but I just tried doing that on Facebook tonight and it didn’t feel good. It felt like my insides were burning. Like all of my muscles were sleeping. Like I was about to throw up. I didn’t take it down, though. Bahala na. Who cares if they see it? They don’t care. They never did. If they did, they would’ve done something about it.

I don’t really want to talk about it but I’m really scared for my situation at home lol. I don’t think I can handle it. God, please, if you’re there, please. Not now.

Work is good aside from the occasional anxiety. I have a shit ton to do. I know I can handle it and I’m a little excited to do them, but there are other things that I’m a little scared about. But I’ll manage. I’m not too worried about it.

It’s been a long time since I last had a serious crush on someone (and we all know how that went down). I have a crush on someone now, and it’s just a nice break from all the crazy shit around me. Honestly, I’m not looking for a commitment right now. I’m not in a rush. I also don’t want to get married--just putting it out there--so it’s no issue. It’s just nice to think about liking someone and be giddy about it and generally just feel like a child. I’m not planning to act on it. If something happens, whether it’s with this person or not, I’m open to trying things, but honestly, I’m not looking.

I feel like I have so much more shit to look after lmao. Not sure when I’ll be able to fully put myself first, but hey, I spend a lot on shit I don’t really desperately need? So maybe that counts? Maybe that’s just my way of getting control over my life--even if I get extremely guilty for it.

Idk man. My resignation’s anniversary is always a big deal to me, but I haven’t been thinking about it that much recently, so maybe it’s gonna be okay. Hopefully it doesn’t end like the Red (TV) release. (Which, honestly, wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Was it? I don’t really know anymore; I don’t trust my memories that much.)

[cradleaine]

[cradleaine]

I keep forgetting to post this here, BUT I have a Big life update: I'm getting top surgery in January!!! AHHHHHHH

I've decided to get chest contouring (which is not required but recommended) to ensure that I get the best results with the least amount of possible issues. This cost some extra $$ and I def need some help in that department...

So! I've set up a donation page and would love it if you shared/donated! Anything helps!! but don't feel obligated especially in this economy lol

(Alternatively you can send donations via my Ko-Fi page or PayPal !)

Thanks in advance ✨

[cradleaine]

I might actually go insane.

Takot ako. I don’t usually fear circumstances in such way that makes me clueless. Usually, when I get scared, I plan. It takes time sometimes, but I manage. As I get older, it takes longer for me to plan things, but I do it. I can.

Now, I can’t plan. All I am is scared. I figured that I will never fully recover from losing my mom at 17, which is why napakahirap tanggapin na hindi ‘yon ang huli. I am desperate for more time.

I’m not sure if I’m living through trauma or maarte lang talaga ako. I don’t know. I’m confused. I don’t even know how to process these thoughts. They are all over the place. 

My family never saw me as a human being. To them, ako ang taga-salo ng responsibility nila. They wish they could forever deny what they’re running away from, but they can’t. I acknowledge, and I will remember. I just know that they will play it off as if they were such a huge part of the solution, but I know, and she knows. However this may turn out.

I love her so much. She’s been my favorite person all my life. I can’t lose her. God, if you’re really out there, please, not now, not ever. I can’t.

Should things go south, there are people I will never forget. Quite honestly, I don’t think I will even act on this rage. The plan (god freaking damn it, always this endless planning) is to take myself out of the narrative. Live alone. Be fully independent, rid of every single person that has ever caused me or my mom or my lola huge waves of betrayal and neglect. I never want to see any of them ever again.

I’ve been fine the last 22 years without any of their help. I think I’ll be fine with the rest of my life separate from toxicity. 

For now, I want nothing but for things to get better for her. I can’t lose her. I’m so scared. I’m desperate. I’m angry. I am all of these things but relieved.

[cradleaine]

is there a way back home?

I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel like knowing your days are becoming shorter and shorter and a terrifying yet inevitable stop is approaching.

In fact, I don’t even want to think about it. I don’t want to entertain the idea.

I’ve always known myself as confrontational. I used to describe myself as brave, strong, wise. A lot has changed since stepping into harsher and more competitive environments. I realized I was more persevering than wise. More tolerating than strong. More passive than brave. Which, quite frankly, aren’t bad traits at all, but when you put things into perspective and circumstances into consideration, I am more defeated than confronted.

I’ve learned from losing my mom to death at 17 that pain exists to occupy spaces we were used to being filled. Albeit sometimes frank and detached, my relationship with my mother was something I have never found and probably would never find in other people. She was blunt. She was strict. Brutally honest. Had anger management issues. As a teenager, especially one who struggled with the consequences of poverty and a dysfunctional family, most of what I saw were what was missed, what was never had, what was never said. I never realized the other side of parenting, especially doing it alone: figuring out your child’s needs that grow and evolve with time, understanding their development, and, most importantly, confronting the very obvious empty space we’ve seen and felt since the day I was born: a father figure.

I wasn’t blessed with the best support system, either. I was sworn out of anger. Received broken promises. Almost given up on. And I was mad about all of those.

It must’ve been so confusing, figuring out how to help your child survive, give her the best you could, make sure she is satisfied, and doing it all alone. At the time, I despised what I didn’t have: a comfortable life, luxury at the expense of nothing, validation from a father, hopeful romance figures. I think I even blamed my mother for it at some point. 

Years later, as I got more exposed to a harsher world, I realized that it is okay to regret my anger, but it is also valid to keep it. I can ponder on how and why I wasn’t done wrong despite not meeting all of my wants and needs, but I can also acknowledge the fact that I wasn’t given the childhood I deserve. That it’s okay for anger and regret to coexist, and allowing myself to feel them and grow from them is something that can help me parent myself better. After all, there is no one left to take care of me but me.

Which brings me to my next point, the most dreadful one by recency.

I accept that I am now a fully grown adult who should make sound decisions and should stick to them and be brave enough to be responsible. I know that, but looking around me, where everyone has their own support systems regardless of degree of helpfulness, it just makes decision-making a little harder and a bit more bitter.

Some kids, those even older than me, get all the help they need whenever they want. Maybe some of them don’t even have to ask for help as everything they need are waiting for them multiple steps in advance. I know comparison will get me nowhere, but in a world where privilege plays all the important factors for survival, can you blame me? I yearn for a consistent support system, but I don’t have that anymore (a question of if I ever had a consistent support system is one that will be left unanswered). I can’t just make decisions and expect to fall back onto something when things go wrong. My time can’t afford mistakes.

Because that’s how it usually goes: my time against the world’s. I feel like I need to be constantly rushing to do something, achieve something, provide something; otherwise, I’ll lose someone at the expense of my comfort.

At this point, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to lose someone.

I fear that every single day I am trapped inside my childhood home. I fear that every minute I spend outdoors. I fear potential phone calls, silences, dimmed lights. I am so terrified of having more proximate space than ever.

As you can already tell, I can’t even talk about it directly. I fear bringing my thoughts into exact words will translate them to reality, and I’m just not ready for that. Other people can say that no one would ever be ready for loss, but they don’t understand that to me, losing one person is losing another fraction of my mind and heart that I can never, ever retrieve. A tragedy I will never recover from. A life I will never get to live.

I fear losing people every single minute I exist. It looms right outside the parameters of my bed. At very strange hours, it lurks under my tonsil, begging for a release, asking for attention and devotion and confrontation and I just can’t. 

[cradleaine]

Sometimes, all I could do is wait.

On occasion, a day’s introduction of light already previews the weight of unfiltered thoughts and emotions that are going to rush through such a small portion of history before tomorrow. At times, I just let out a breath. It’s exhausting, this lifestyle. I get the choice between moving along and staying under the covers, the prior being more acceptable and more productive and more normal than the other. The latter just paralyzes; it waits for a sign that symbolizes something I don’t even know, a mystic force that keeps the coldness, wherever the mind goes to, to sustain gravity’s responsibility to keep me parallel to the ground. I bear the responsibility to choose which fate to explore for a day, and oftentimes, normal isn’t just the way to go.

Not that it matters, because it doesn’t feel like there’s much choosing going on anyway. The moment I open my eyes to study the ceiling I’ve been befriending since the beginning of time, fate has already decided by itself for me. Usually, I like warm hugs: the feeling of being needed—wanted enough to keep close but respected enough to be given allowance—shows me part of my life’s worth. However, when it’s the bed and a pillow much older than me that sandwich me in an embrace to force me to stay on frozen ground of funk and fuzzy, I begin to think that maybe, desire shouldn’t be craved for at all times. So I lie there, eyes heated from the confusion and loneliness and feet trembling from the breeze, and I wonder, when is it ever going to get better?

I toss and tumble, pillows taking turns to experience human body heat, but sometimes, all I could do is wait. Stare at nothing until my vision’s a little less blurry. Watch other people have the time of their lives until the buzzing noises subside. Take many rounds of naps until the ideal world merges with reality. At intervals, I sigh and try to assess my situation: if it gets better now, is that guarantee enough that it’s going to end? What if the weight disappears today, only to get converted to a different metric to be dealt with on a different day?

[cradleaine]

Taylor Swift Fashion + Lover Era

[cradleaine]

about cycles

To say that I feel lost does not quite synthesize everything I feel at the moment.

I don’t even understand what this is. I don’t know why this is happening. Things are going relatively okay. There’s nothing to be concerned about.

I am fully aware that tomorrow is the second anniversary of my resignation. I’m not sure if that is what’s making me feel like shit. I don’t know if it’s everything else latched onto that memory.

My best friend and I are in a tough spot right now. Not because we’re fighting, but because we both have our own shit to deal with and fix. I’m not sure if she’s aware of mine, but I am not aware of hers.

It worries me. Over the past year, I have been so dependent on other people’s validation and attention more than ever. I bugged her a lot of times. She says she doesn’t mind, but we all know that we’ve heard that one before.

I don’t want to doubt her (or any of the friends I have now, really), because none of them deserve that. I know that they are all good people, and they won’t do the same things other people in the past have done to me. Like one other friend said, those who stayed up to this point understand my anger. They know how and why things turned out the way it did. And they stayed for a reason. I want to wholeheartedly believe that. I want to go through a day without doubting that, because she’s probably right. We’ve all been through so much shit together, enough to know our intentions. Therefore, there shouldn’t be any kind of lie behind that, right?

I can’t help but reason out that this has happened before. I was told that I wasn’t too much. I was told I was understood. I was told I was loved. Yet, here we are. Look at where we are now. What makes me so sure that that can’t happen again?

I worry because I know all of the mistakes I did on purpose (with this attitude, there’s probably a lot I can’t recall at the moment), and knowing me, I probably did other things I wasn’t even aware of. That scares me because no one is communicating anything with me, especially during times where I can’t detect my flawed decisions. It’s not their responsibility to keep my moral compass in track, but if we were friends, and they actually feel like how they say they do, then I would hear something from them.

Like I said, this has happened before. This is not new. The gradual lack of replies? Dismissing ideas? Bailing? This isn’t my first rodeo. In fact, I remember specific details of my experiences from these in the past. But like I also said, I want to trust my friends. I want to convince myself that they are better than them; that what we have is better than what I have ever gotten. That we are mature adults who have been through enough to know how to communicate. But I just can’t convince myself to feel safe in that abstract promise.

Because this has happened before, and look at where we are now.

I’m worried that the only form of consistency I’ve had for years is slowly slipping away. I’ve witnessed a lot of people leaving, but this one person is the only one who stayed for a long time. I’ve grown accustomed to her; I’m not sure how I’ll cope if I lose her.

I don’t want to be the jerk friend. She’s told me this a hundred times before: ’wag mo kami itulad sa kanila. She’s right. I shouldn’t. But why does it feel like it’s happening all over again?