I sum up parenting in two words:
Love and Training.
I sum up parenting in two words:
Love and Training.
But not from all kinds of pain.
Parents must learn how to distinguish pain from danger. I know it’s hard watching your kid go through pain, especially the ones you had foreseen and could have prevented.
Honestly not for me. Maybe because I’m slightly sadistic lol but more because I find it amusing and magical how a baby learns (immediately! instantly!) from a mistake — like miscalculating clearance and hurting his head, losing his balance and falling on the floor, pushing or pulling something too hard, and many other things that a baby who freely explores would experience.
And then he moves more slowly, walks more cautiously, carefully learning all these little things that we might overlook as unimportant or automatic. The growth happening right in front of us is beautiful!
I try to be 15 steps ahead of danger; but I’m right there for necessary pain.
When Alon came along, so did a new fear — that is to be dead long before he has a fighting chance in this difficult life. I’m worried about who will teach him manners, values, critical thinking, creativity, and spirituality.
And my response? To keep on writing.
So he will hear momma, a talking thinking momma. Not just a photo/video momma, but one from whom he can keep learning, long after I’m gone. A momma who doesn’t just preach, but also unfolds. A momma who isn’t perfect, but real. A momma he may never see again, but whose love he will feel eternally.
Thanks to Alon I have the courage to find and hold my voice again. I will pour my heart out so he will hear me loud and clear even from the other side!
So many people get trapped with the wrong person. They think that “getting to know” means knowing his favorite food, sports, or to meet his family, or if you know what his fart smells like.
You should also get to know his issues — can he restore and heal himself? Can you help him? How does he cope with his problems: does he drink, or does he look for a solution? When you fight, does he have violent tendencies? When he falls, how fast does he get back to his feet? Which among his traits are merely due to his upbringing, and which ones did he freely choose? When he says “sorry,” does it mean he’ll never do it again, or just some ten times more? Does he see you as his equal, inferior, or could be superior?
When you truly get to know him, then ask yourself, “Do I want this?” For the things you don’t like, “Can I live with these?”
Don’t get yourself trapped.
Ang daming nata-trap sa maling tao. Akala kasi nila yung “kilalanin mo” ay alamin mo lang ang paboritong ulam nya, anong hilig nyang sports, yung makapunta ng sampung beses sa bahay nya, o kapag alam mo na ang amoy ng utot nya.
Dapat alamin mo rin kung anong issues nya, kaya ba nyang gamutin ang sarili nya? Kaya mo bang matulungan sya? Pag may problema, paano sya mag-cope, naglalasing ba o naghahanap ng solusyon? Pag nag-aaway kayo, may tendency ba syang maging bayolente? Pag nadadapa, gaano kabilis sya bumangon? Anong ugali yung nakalakihan lang nya, at ano naman yung pinili nya talaga? Kapag nagso-sorry sya, ibig sabihin ba nun di na nya uulitin, o mga sampung beses na lang? Kapantay ba ang tingin nya sayo, o mas mababa, baka naman din mas mataas? Dapat pantay lang.
Kapag kilala mo na, tsaka tanungin ang sarili, “Gusto ko ba? Yung di ko gusto, kaya ko ba?”
Aralin muna nang mabuti para hindi ma-trap.
Just looked back through all of my profile pictures on FB, back on photos as old as 8 years. I see a girl who wanted to be wanted, a girl who liked herself, and wanted to be liked by herself. She sought adventure in foreign lands, foreign relationships, and in nature. She had always been a child of nature, long before she even knew she was being called. She fell in love, with people, with life, with old churches, her best friend. She’s always wanted more from life, somehow she got addicted to the adrenaline of adventure and being in contact with the strange. She loved art, and learned how to express her beautiful soul. And then she tried to fit in, to belong, be accepted and loved by others. She projected an image of success, youth, potential, direction, passion, certainty, when deep inside she was torn apart, fighting for the faith that had been challenged forever. She grew wings for her own liberation, experimented, played with herself and with danger, not with caution but with an all-in defiance of reason. She had rocks, like her friends whom she keeps until now, and hope. Her everlasting hope that maybe God is there. She plunged into the dark headfirst, broke her wings. She thought it was for love, but yes it was. She broke her wings but not her soul. She found the pure. Pure loss and nothingness. She tried again.
And this is the final photo on her profile, which she doesn’t plan to change anytime soon.
It’s quite easy to lose track of things you’ve learned and accepted earlier, no matter how hard it was to arrive at such learning and acceptance.
For weeks I’ve been at a constant battle between adjusting my reality and adjusting my mind in embracing it.
Constant complaints and picking on little things do not seem healthy physically, mentally and emotionally. So I’ve been literally telling myself to either love this reality or shut up altogether.
But now I’m starting to grow dependent on a drug that puts me to sleep, without horrible dreams that come in the wee hours; and if they come to wake me up, I’m robbed of the brief moment to react and be scared. And then sleep is mine again.
This battle was first about urban and rural. Rural won. Manila and Cebu. Cebu won. Now it’s convenience or comfort.
Sometimes it’s about adaptability, practicality and a bit of sacrifice. And sometimes it’s about wellbeing. Is it really practical to trade peace of mind? Know the things you can’t live without and accept that there are things you can’t live with.
“Now I know what to do when you have an episode. I’ll listen, hug you, tell you I’m never gonna leave you, and then we’ll cry together.
Just remind me when it happens again.”
My boyfriend must have forgotten what episodes were like. I never really thought of giving it a name. Depression, borderline, bipolar. Didn’t matter as long as I’d get well, my way.
But what happened tonight lead me to helping Jason understand and really learn about it. This website was very helpful:
International Bipolar Foundation
Consequently, I learned new stuff. Like maybe I’m incapable of making business decisions, that my dreams are too big, I’ll never get it right with money, I was manic when I steered our lives to this direction.
Until now I can’t fathom the thought of taking meds or professional help. Maybe I will get by with a hug. Maybe not. Till the next episode.
My mental state says I need some coffee or beer. “You’re overspending,” a response I never imagined would start cutting me off from the world.
It’s sad that I’ve got nowhere, no one to run to. I know, friends, you’re there. But I’m here.
I tried remembering the time when it wasn’t like this. I’ve had this mental state thingy since time immemorial. But I had someone. A friend or a stranger. Always. Until now.
Meanwhile in my head… “What if I get unstable sometime in the future and it gets real messy?” “Well, we’ll go through it together. I’ll help you sort it out.”
I gave myself (or the Universe rather) a deadline. June 5. When my life would start to change. Specifically, when our sales would start picking up. June 5 came. And nada, nothing happened. But in my mind, there’s that voice that keeps reassuring me that change was happening, only that I couldn’t see it.
Yesterday afternoon, my boyfriend told me the sales was still down. But something in me wasn’t going down with it.
Now that I’m drinking with my boyfriend, I thank the Universe not because sales are up, but because I don’t mind anymore. My day would no longer be dictated by the sales. And I’m happy that my boyfriend is somebody that I can drink with and make love with no matter what happens in the world.
And yes we’re just done drinking. Time for the other thing.