HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?

 To start with, the end of the year black hole is sucking me in earlier than expected. I don't fucking know if it's the 3-month lockdown that triggered it. I actually don't even know what it is this time. Might be about time I give counselling a green light. Would be better to get validation that something is just not right. About time I raise my white flag. Why am I even bothering trying to figure out something when I've just been ending up in dead ends every fucking time I try? I'm still shit scared to strip myself bare, be vulnerable, be weak - off guard. Stripping down my concrete armour is never an option. It feels awful. People look at you all weird, you get sympathy which was never provided to you when things are normal. It's like being in the spotlight. People around you are so careful like you are some sort of a ticking timebomb, ready to explode anytime.

The sick thing about this is why do I even bother what other people think about me? 

-Nel

TALES OF A HOARDER

Hello dear Peach! Welcome back to your blog. Surprisingly, you have 2 drafts left untouched and unremembered. If that's even a word. So what the fuck is up?

2021! 3 days into it.

Whatever's been floating inside my head can be pretty summed up in the title of this post. Haha. That's me, a hoarder. I've just rummaged my closet only to find bits and pieces of 2020 (although some would go as far back as 2018). Ahhh, 2020. You were a different pain in the ass. The world stopped. But, your first half ain't bad. Even though that's when I felt your full intensity with all the COVID scare and lockdown bullshit that the world had to endure. Why do I consider your first half as not being that bad? I guess I just really had fun in that period and time. 

Okay, so now here goes the title. You know what's the part that sucks the most for hoarders, it's when they have physical memories but can't share them with the person they've had it with. You feel that sour feeling in your gut, like acid that's just boiling inside. I have a lot of those~ physical memories. I don't even know why I never throw them out. Some are just really trash. Like receipts, old notebooks, stickers you'll never use. And every time I accidentally come across them, you have that internal pang, and you feel so emotional right after. I always say this; it's not the person that you miss, it's the moment/s you've had that time with that person. Why does it hurt? Well, sometimes you can't talk about that moment with that person anymore. So you just deal with all the triggered emotions on your own. 

Hmmmm, 2020, I've hoarded a lot from you. Maybe I should just let everything go, even the memories. 

Xoxo Peach

Wholewheat

I have been asked two questions that just straight out fucking bothered me.

     

1. When are you going to get over your ex?
2. What do you really want?

The former, I answered defensively. The latter, with a nonchalant shrug.

I am over him. I am sure about that. No doubt. However, it’s the habits I’ve accumulated over the course of the relationship that I can’t seem to shrug off. It’s like I’m still looking and expecting for the familiar even though it’s with someone different. I guess you really can’t let go of things you’ve been used to in just a small period of time. Funny how I’ve been telling myself that I am completely over everything but it still occasionally hits me like a drunk driver. I am still haunted by everything. EVERY. THING. Sometimes I even ask myself if it was because there was no definite closure. And I still don’t know the answer to that. Also, I feel like I haven’t gotten hold of myself, the whole me. It still feels as if half of me isn’t who I really am. Some parts of me somehow got lost in those 9 years. But for that, I only blame myself. Why? Because I just naturally let myself get lost. Cliché? It is. It will always be. Isn’t that how relationships work? Not just you and me, but us. Like that Spice Girls song, 2 become 1. Unified. So when you decide to be just you again, you pick up the pieces of the breakage. Every intricate splinter. Because you want to be whole again. You want to be just you. But it’s hard because sometimes you don’t know who that is anymore. You pick up the pieces but you’re not really sure if they are entirely yours. And as you pick up the fragments, you end up wounded. Because it fucking hurts that you want to put it back altogether, without cracks, without any hints of damage. How do you find yourself after a long ass time of being who you used to be? How do you really start with a clean slate?

And so what is it that I really want? I want me. To be me again. But again, I don’t know who that is anymore. It bothers me if I want things because I want them for myself or because that’s what I am used to having. I even get frustrated if the things I give aren’t reciprocated. Old habits die hard. But they should just die coz it would be easier that way. Everything would be easier. Guess I should stop expecting the things I’m used to on someone different. That would be unfair. Maybe that’s the melancholy in all of this bullshit. Having to find a way to work every habit out of your system, alone. I know I’ll never figure out what it is I really want if I keep on looking for something that I am familiar with. I have to stop looking for the same thing. Reality doesn’t work that way. But what’s really fucking annoying is that I don’t even know how to put myself out there anymore. It’s like most of the time I feel so lost or just merely floating, getting swept up by the current like a dead fish. Funny how other people notice this but not me. Maybe I should just embrace being alone for now, or until I figure out how to resurrect my old self.

When did shit get so complicated? Or why did I even let it be?

-Nel

8.8.18 thoughts

How can you just fucking wake up one day and feel empty? You wonder what caused it. Was it the dinner you had last night? Was it spoiled? Expired? Stretched out the best before date? You try to revive that feeling only to end up in deep misery. But you know what’s worse? You fucking know how to end it but you’re scared shit to do it. Because how do you end it, how do you end something that changed you and something you have been so used to? It hurts to hold on and try fucking hard to be reasonable when deep, deep inside you know you have to kill it before it kills you. It’s fucking cowardice to hold on because the sharp fangs of guilt is suffocating you. But really, what are you holding on to? The memories? Promises? Also, the pathetic reason of avoiding judgement from people around you.  It’s like having that urge to vomit after eating a $30 meal. You try to keep it in but it only makes you feel worse inside. You fucking keep it in for what you think is its worth. It’s pathetic! You keep questioning yourself why you keep on prolonging the agony.   But really, how do you end it? How do you end something like this? Or is it reasonable enough to stay just to etch away that feeling of guilt? Because you’d only end up hurting yourself. Masochism? Does it still make sense? Or will it ever make sense? But really, why am I still trying to hold on when I know that it has been dead before I even admitted it point blank? How am I supposed to move on when I can’t even let go of what has been dead a long time? When you’re nonchalantly trying to live like how everything is supposed to be. It’s pathetic!   

-Nel

Cheers!

The last quarter of 2017 unexpectedly had a surprising plot twist. 

I have been asking for a serious turn of events since forever and I guess this has got to be it. It happened so fast that I still cannot totally grasp it. All I know is that it really left me overwhelmed. I sometimes even think that I do not deserve all of this because I know to my very core that I am not a nice person. I did not even let people know about it because I got so scared that if gets spread out and everybody finds out, it would not push through. I do have that way of thinking, not to tell anybody unless it is 100% confirmed and happening. Only my family and boyfriend were in the know.

I hustled silently to go through it. I even had to tell excuses and lies as to why I have been spontaneously filing for VL at work. I was that scared, not only because of my negative thinking , but also because of the people who I know will have a lot of negative things to say about me. I didn't want to hear these people judge me based on my lifestyle; that I have gotten this far only because we are able to afford it. The reason never being - because she worked hard for it or maybe she is smart enough to be qualified. These people will just choose to dwell on their insecurities and instead of a good pat in your back, they opt to stab you; because the latter will feed their egos more, thinking that they are still better.

It's actually really funny that some of them felt offended when they found out that I chose to keep this as a secret. Am I obliged to share every little thing that's going on in my life just to satisfy your futility? Haven't you done enough stabbing? Have I not bled enough unconsciously?

I am off to start a new chapter of my life and I hope that you will not be a part of it anymore. 

I worked and prayed hard for whatever is coming next. 

If you think this post is about you, it probably is. If the shoes fits, feel free to wear it.

-Nel