a daylight dream

  it had been a week of beautiful happenings, gratitude and a serene tuning to the grace that envelops the world. but there are nights like tonight, when I’m tossing and turning miserably, those memories surging through me, leaving me with every loose detail complicating itself as my mind turns to watch them float away. the memories are still there, and they do hurt. they remind me of the guilt and shame I feel being human. the curiosity about if   I should have endured a little bit more rather than take things to my own hands. the shame in wanting to have needed love so desperately, and hope and a glimpse of light in my days. my therapist tells me that all my dearest victories were only coping mechanisms, she tells me I’ve burned myself to the extreme. she talks now of ordinary days, where victories are not so abundant. I feel my complexion dampen and turn grey, missing and longing for the thrill of being the best I could be, transmuting my darkness to that secret belief that...

  i'm thinking about starting a series on this blog to take note of those moments when a few positive highlights stream through my mind, transforming my day. I would call them epiphanies, but they're not exactly that. they're little, simple notions imbued with a hint of gratitude. I would love to look back and go through this blog remembering them, realising how a few of those moments eventually snowball to change one's mindset and allow healing to take place. so, here are little throughts worthy of sharing that bubbled through me today. there's something stunningly beautiful in allowing oneself to rest without guilt. I wonder if being ill so often is teaching me that. miraculous things happen when we don't plan for them. since I'm weak and ill, I didn't plan to go for my daily walk today. however, by the afternoon, I decided to smell some fresh air, especially that the sun came out for a little while. my gift for embracing the unexpected was seeing the ...

  I go on long walks now, trying to ease the pain. however, they mostly always make it worse. the moment I get in touch with myself, I find myself crying in the streets, hoping someone could approach me so that I can feel less alone. the pain is unbearably isolating, unfortunately. despite wanting to write about my struggles more often, I find myself ashamed. I am overwhelmed by how I cannot find my strength in spite of surviving even tougher times. I struggle with finding my sense of identity most of all nowadays. I look everywhere, into all of my visions and goals, and I don’t find myself. I don’t know who I am supposed to be. being ‘needed’ in the household and the addiction of always being the provider of emotional supply was a hallmark of my identity back then. I   was always needed. but now, I am needed as a whole person, not a source of fuel for never-ending abuse. it’s really hard navigating the turbulence in this journey: the compromised immune system, existential cri...

those days are heavy on my heart. a constant resistance to that uncanny feeling of grieving something I am not even sure I am aware of. there’s this loss of something profound, living in the unknown and plunging myself into valleys of hope every single day, just to be failed by their condescending stillness. I’m not sure why I’m sad, but it’s like I’ve lost myself. it’s like I’m grieving the loss of the life I’ve always known. sitting down by the tombstones of my coping mechanisms that don’t make sense in my world now. feeling the suffering of not having something to worry about or be scared of. they say that depression comes to show us what we’ve been repressing all along, a slowly-brewed suffering ripening. my mind keeps finding ways to resist this sadness and change its ways.  my soul tells me to feel it, to be it. my sadness is relentlessly self-sabotaging, isolating and it knows exactly how to constrict the universe into a set of known routines and familiar sounds. it validat...

  It’s a new paradigm for me, finding God in gratitude. that used to be a supplement, perhaps the darkness made it much easier to find a glimmer of light in the skies of dawn. now that light is abound, how do I find that particularly special guiding radiance? it is some skill I’m learning— uncovering layer upon layer of God’s presence in the blessings I’m dipped in. the light of God has become an ocean I’m lost in— all those blessings? all those little moments of the day I have always dreamed of? all this love, all the beauty of home, it’s here between my fingers. and still, I am not used to seeing without turning the lights off. however, I am aware how that this is now my mission: unconditional gratitude. being grateful without expecting anything in return. before, I used to feel the pain of my sufferings coated by the mild sweetness of my blessings. now, the sweetness of gratitude is not that profound. it has no balmy sensation for my heart is at ease. I see now that indeed, I ne...