Because Blue Flowers

I am in a bit of a good mood, which I don’t expect to last long. I got a massage yesterday, and it felt so good because my shoulders are so tight and knotted. I am going back next week for more. It’s just something I need right.

I am still having trouble sleeping. Partly because my shoulders hurt, but also because I have so many worries and anxieties and think too much. My therapist thinks that if I work through all the things I carry inside, if I process my stuff, I can get closure and heal. I don’t even know what healing feels like. I seem to equate it with weakness or something foreign to me because I don’t believe I’m innately a real good person, I’m not spiritual or anything, and I have this weird ego. I feel so fake just saying that word, healing. How can that be me? Healing sounds like something only positive people and like really kind and spiritual people do. But I am just sick of having all these secrets and not feeling strong inside. Of not owning my story and taking in pride in it.

I talk about my parents and my deep resentments in therapy a lot. I feel unhappy because my parents never change. Even though I know they love me and mean well, I don’t like the way they show it. They worry about me so much it irritates me and makes me feel guilty. And they’re so pushy that sometimes their advice feels like criticism. They tell me when I’m gaining weight and what they think I should eat and what I should to to lose weight. Now, they want me to drink a tea from Thailand made from blue flowers because they saw a Filipino guy on TV who said eating the flowers got rid of his bipolar. I know they want to help me, but sigh… no blue flowers are gonna magically cute my illness. Plus, it doesn’t taste like anything or make me feel warm and good inside like the strawberry white tea I normally drink. It’s actually a green tea which I love. Tastes so good.

Anyway so I’ve decided that since I can’t change my parents, I could try changing my emotions and behavior when they irritate me. Lately whenever I feel bad or guilty about being grumpy toward them I end up feeling I have to do something nice for them or make it up somehow. Like I try really hard to be patient when my dad starts talking even though I really don’t want to talk or care about the conversation. Idk why but I get so easily triggered when my parents communicate because I don’t feel invested in 90% of their conversations. Especially my dad who goes on and on with trivial things I couldn’t care less about. Plus, he’s always buying stuff just because it’s on sale and showing it to me like it’s some kind of treasure when all I see is clutter and not only that but it pisses my mom off because she thinks he’s wasting money and just takes up space in the house and my dad leaves all his mess around. Lol. Family.

So, now, my thing is to try to just accept it and try not to get irritated or snap at my parents and be nice. Then I won’t feel so guilty and bad about myself. Lol. Because they never hear me anyway. And I have never felt comfortable talking to them about my feelings. I especially can’t talk to them about my secrets.


Hoping 2018 gets better

I wish I could say I am happy and I am doing so much better and I am writing really well. But I’m not. I can never finish any of the writing projects I start, and I always end up thinking it sucks. Is it because I’m depressed? Because bipolar meds suppress creativity? Because I’m not that smart? I hate not writing well. Is it because I’m not writing in the right genre for me? Should I give up on the fantasy novel? Because it seems like I’m never gonna finish it. Should I work on the memoir which is so painful to write I keep getting stuck on that too? Or am I merely avoiding writing the hard stuff? I got an MFA in Creative Writing but it seems like it turned out to be a waste of money and time.


How I ended 2017:

Spent the Xmas holiday with my parents, brother and sister-in-law and their dog Cammie. My brother, sister-in-law, and I watched Star Wars: The Last Jedi in IMAX 3D on Christmas Eve. It was alright. I liked seeing women and people of color in starring roles, but the plot was a little thin. I liked Rogue One better.

On New Year’s Eve, rented Wonder Woman, which I liked very much for the most part. It did strike me as odd that when Diana left her mother and Amazon sisters, she didn’t seem to miss them or female companionship much. Because men wrote the script. The only loss she reminisced about was her former male lover. It would have been more satisfying if she cursed stupid humans because she left her home and family and totally badass female Amazon warriors just for them and they kept screwing up. She should have walked away from their dumbasses and stupid wars and psychopathic genocidal fantasies. Because really, fuck them all.


How I started 2018:

Playing Wow because I’m angry and depressed more than anything, and all I want to do is escape everything. I’d rather be writing, but like I said, I end up thinking everything I write sucks. Maybe I should try outlining again. Idk. I feel like if I never get my stories out in the world, I have nothing worth living for, and everyday is just about getting by. Not even people make me very happy. Maybe it’s a symptom of my illness. The borderline personality’s feeling, and of emptiness, longing and fear of intimacy, the inability to sustain relationships, fragile sense of self, sensitivity. And all the rage and unstable emotions.

I feel like I belong nowhere, and I am so fucking envious of the writers who do. I have never fit in anywhere, or never stayed too long with any particular community, and I can’t sustain my friendships IRL.

The only community that I’ve sustained in the last 10 years is WoW. I’ve been raiding with some players on and off for five years. Aside from my main raiding guild, I’m also in a Horde women-only guild and a FB group for women WoW players. WoW passes the time, and the online community is a good place for people are relatively isolated to communicate and socialize with others who share at least this one common interest.

Costumes and Cammie

Speaking of creativity… My mom hosted her 70th birthday party last month at the Hilton. It was a costume party with a Bollywood theme. She put it all together, the centerpieces, giveaways, and party gifts. She even did a Bollywood dance with her friends. The costumes were all very colorful. It was festive like all my mom’s parties. It seemed like everyone was having a good time dancing (ballroom and line dancing), taking goofy photos at the photo booth, and getting henna tattoos. I didn’t stay the whole night because of my back problems and arthritis, but I was there for awhile. It was a long day and I even got my hair done at the salon with my mom. The costume was all my mom’s idea, but I didn’t mind because the day was all about her. Anyway, here’s a picture of me, my parents, my sister-in-law Elsa, and my brother Eric.


Eric and Elsa also brought over their six-month-old puppy when they were in town for the party. Cammie is a Cavapoo, which is a cross between a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and a Poodle. She’s so cute and funny, and she knows a few tricks like sit, down, and shake hands. Shake hands was the best and made me laugh and feel happy. There she is walking all over my brother’s workstation in order to get his attention.


Things are somewhat back to normal with me and my parents. I am not angry anymore. I have been directing my thoughts toward writing, and am not going to worry about the disability review for now.

This April

Well, the news is that we returned Harley to the breeder. I was just stressing out too much and the pain from arthritis was not improving, especially in my hip area. I think I really tried with Harley, even took her to puppy class. My parents were helping me out as well, but it was all just too much for us. I felt that Harley needed more time and attention, but I was constantly in pain. After we returned Harley, I saw my doctor again, and she referred me to physical therapy. I really want to get better, especially because my mom’s 70th birthday party is coming up in June. I am improving a little and feeling less pain, but I am still spending a lot of time in bed resting. My mental health is a bit more stable though. I haven’t been doing any of the things I used to do before I was diagnosed with arthritis. Haven’t been playing WoW, haven’t been writing, haven’t been reading that much, though I have been listening to more audiobooks and I continue to update my romance book blog. As a consequence of my current quality of life, I have been watching a lot more TV. LOL. I watched Supergirl Season 1 on Netflix and used my 7-day free trial of Showtime on Amazon to watch Homeland Season 6. I also wake up every morning wondering if Trump got us into war while I was asleep. So, 2017 is way more awful than 2016, and the Trump administration is truly scary. I’m just glad I have my family and few friends on/by my side.

Hello 2017!

And good riddance 2016!

I spent New Year’s Day setting up my new computer gaming system. I bought it online one-stop shopping at Fry’s, and it was delivered within an hour of my purchase. Faster than Amazon! This is an ASUS G11CD, with Intel i7, Nvidia GTX 1080, and 512 SSD drive. I also bought a Razer Black Widow mechanical keyboard, which is super neat and makes me type faster! I definitely don’t feel like I’m mashing keys in WoW anymore.

This New Year, more than ever, I am thankful for all the good things in my life, old friends and new, and my family who cares about me so much. Life is too short and I’m feeling blessed.


This Christmas, Somebody to Love

oyster_wine-3This Christmas George Michael passed away. As if 2016 couldn’t get any worse. I was having dinner at Larsen’s Grill with my parents, brother and his wife, three aunties, and one uncle. We had just finished our appetizers. I had an oyster with a glass of Cabernet. Then, I hopped onto Facebook to see what was up. That’s how I found out. My brother couldn’t believe it either. He asked me if it was fake news. But it was all over Twitter, and I was able to find solid reporting on it. How tremendously sad. I grew up listening to George Michael.

What a crazy year this has been. There’s been good times with family and friends, positives in my life, which have balanced my depression. AND my parents are getting me a puppy, which I’ll get to take home in February. But even with all my blessings in life it hasn’t been enough lately. I’ve been having trouble sleeping and crying a lot since the election, so my psychiatrist started me on a new antidepressant, Abilify, which is actually classified as an anti-psychotic but is FDA-approved to treat bipolar depression. He thinks that I’m feeling more depressed now because I’m realizing that I need more in life. He said that I’m too smart to be as isolated as I am now. That what I have now is not enough for me anymore. I think he’s right. I am missing human connection. I feel like I deserve so much more and so much better. I want to be in love, to love and be loved.

I want somebody to love.

Celebrate George Michael with me.

The Past Five Days

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my psychiatrist (who recently came back from visiting the Philippines, we talked about Duterte a little but mostly he complained about the smog and pollution). Anyway, he asked me if I knew about the website, which of course I have and which I refresh throughout the day. (I also compare 538 averages with Real Clear Politics.) My psychiatrist’s conclusion: Trump is toast. Meanwhile, no med changes for me, is good.

Personally, I think my main problem is my chronic neck and shoulder pain. It never goes away. Even if I take a break from the computer, it’s still there. It’s a constant companion and it bothers me. I wish I didn’t have all these problems in life. Things could be worse, right?

Continue reading “The Past Five Days”