September 26th 2017

I know it sounds dorky, but buying my first pair of scrubs is super momentous an occasion.

I know I have so much to learn but it feels like an honor that I get to be a part of healthcare in any way.

Even if it’s for a Pharmacy Job I’m pretty bad at right now… I’m gonna blame that only because I’m new to it.

I can’t wait to wear those scrubs everyday. I know I’ll probably get sick and tired of it but it’ll show the world I’m doing something phenomenal.

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July 24th 2017

h e a l t h      a n d

h a p p i n e s s

  1. drink plenty of water
  2. light some candles and read some steamy romance novels
  3. get 9 to 11 full hours of sleep
  4. use paraben, phthalate, ester, and sulfate free products. the results are amazing
  5. eat lots of salad but always allow yourself one or two cheat days. dieting is overrated.
  6. online shop for things you can’t afford. at least you’ll know you still have great taste, right?
  7. cat videos, man
  8. admire the works of Frida Kahlo. She’s revolutionary and brilliant, you’re welcome.
  9. b o b a     m i l k     t e a
  10. tell your family you love them. or at least the members that actually flush the toilet or volunteer to make you breakfast.

 

 

December 30th 2016

I want my mom to be happy.

She’s 58 years old now, and I don’t want her to feel life has no more zest.

I am responsible for a lot of her regrets. I’m not the best daughter that I could be. It’s awful she sacrificed her sleep, health, and career to ensure I grew up the way I did.

I would’ve thought the older I grew, the more appreciative I’d become.

I’m scared of losing my mom one day, but I’m even more scared that I didn’t make her proud. Or that I didn’t do my duty as her daughter to make her dreams come true.

I know my mom would love to have her own Filipino restaurant. I know I’m only 17 and I can’t earn enough to pay a downpayment on a venue for her. I need to soon… I don’t want to run out of time.

I say I love her, but now I need to show her.

October 25th 2016

Lizard. Snake. Reptile.

I am a very dry girl. I love my body, don’t get me wrong. I have all of my limbs and they work, my face is proportionate.

My skin is that of a monster. I feel like the boogeyman when I show them.

I cannot describe the physical or emotional pain. Chapped, red cracks that bleed in the winter. Cruel remarks made by soft skinned people.

I remember growing up, I’d always hope that my legs got skinned or something. Cut up enough so I could ask the doctor to graft new skin for me. The supple kind.

I remember crying because one day if I got married, my Husband wouldn’t love me because I wasn’t going to be pleasurable scaly.

I made a decision this year. I’m going to get a tattoo to cover up the scars.

It will hopefully be a worthy investment.

October 16th 2016

Today, I cried over cabbage.

Yes, I mean the green leafy orb.

No, it didn’t break up with me or call me ugly.

I was bottling up all this stress over the course of a month and because I quit band

– this isn’t a typo, I really did it-

I thought life was going to magically become easier. The load became lighter in the sense that I now have nine hours of sleep and time to eat food, however mentally I’m not in an ideal place.

Crying over cabbage tonight was my big red flag.

I had this feeling that because I couldn’t cook this stupid thing into some beautiful comfort food, I sucked at cooking.

Today, I picked up my little violin from 6th grade and I gave up trying to learn Vivaldi’s L’inverno. I sucked at this one piece, sight reading on an instrument too small for my hands that I assumed I sucked at music.

I text my teddy bear today and when I read back at my messages I get so frustrated because he’s hung up on a girl that isn’t me. I think to myself, “I’m not good enough.”

I shouldn’t feel this way, it’s so difficult to be depressed over something so dumb. I just feel like a big

B L A H.

Why do I feel so frustrated with myself? I like to believe I’m pretty. I like to believe I’m musical, or intelligent. I like to believe I’m loved. If not by my teddy bear, then by someone, A N Y O N E!

I don’t know what to do. Like hell I’m gonna sign up for a cooking class. Trying to find someone to go on a date with is too hard. I can’t sleep all day or stare at a wall and sort myself out.

 

October 12th 2016

I am inspired.

Today, I will write a verse, or a chorus.

I will reach one more scale tone above my range.

I will write one more poem to fill the pages of my trashed sketchbook.

Today, I will love myself.

I will love the way my nose scrunches when I genuinely laugh.

I will love my freckles and the beauty mark tucked underneath my right eye.

Today, I will be liberated from love.

I will go without constantly checking my phone for his texts.

I will be confident in me.

 

Today, I want to be a better version of myself, as every day following should be.

October 9th 2016

feeling short of breath.

sharp pain shoots in my heart

head is heavy

my thoughts are all muddled.

struggle to keep coherent thoughts

i’m anticipating another bout of worry,

where my vision gets blurry

my soul gets lost

i feel scared

death. darkness. become forgotten.

who am i? where am i? i don’t know what “i” am.

irrational is terrifying

i turned on my fan

even though the melancholy autumn winds send shivers down my spine

because if i feel frozen

i am feeling something

throat feels tightly shut

attempting to sip water

my placebo of choice

i’d much rather water than a pill

there are horror stories about those tiny little capsules

i’m afraid to take one.

i’m afraid to be depressed again.

it took so long to climb out

my 6th year of schooling

i ask my mother what a soul was

i ask my mother not to die someday

i pray to a god i worried didn’t exist to give me a sign he does

because i wanted to believe in a soul

i wanted to be with my family forever.

my 6th year of schooling

my mother forced me to eat tomatoes

and even though i hated them, i ate them all

because she said they’d make me happy

my second placebo of choice.

i don’t want people to think i’m crazy

anything but a lunatic

i don’t want to be shipped away

to an all white room that isn’t my bedroom

i’m worried that one day when i’m all grown up

i won’t find love

because when the bouts of anxious irrational thoughts plague my body

and shake my soul

they won’t understand what’s going on

they’d think i’m looney

and they’d leave me for someone more stable

but i am stable, i promise

i’m okay.