One of the questions from the Goodbye Hello journal is; what was your happiest moments?
I have to stop and think.
And shouldn’t that be the case? Shouldn’t I remember right away what they were? Has my mind been so clouded with sorrow that I forgot?
I can’t remember.
When was I truly happiest this 2020? Nothing even comes to mind. Sure, I’ve had happy moments but I can’t remember one where my heart swelled and soared or my belly ached with laughter.
Maybe I just forgot or I didn’t have one.
Taylor Swift’s song, New Year’s Eve, has a line which says,
Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you.
Next time, I have the happiest moment of my life, I’ll hope to remind myself to hold on to it. So I won’t forget.
Sometimes, I have the happiest moment ever, but then I remember that I have to go home and that this will be all over. What happens is the memory is replaced with fear and worry that I have to get home on time.
Maybe that’s why. Maybe I don’t have happy memories because they are always layered with fear.
Happy memories are like treasures in a box.
Mine just happens to be empty for now, but not for long.
This year put a halt to a lot of my plans but it also gave me space to take a step back, to reflect and to breathe.
I’m going to be honest, when the lockdown started, I felt relieved. And I know it was selfish to think; “now, the people around me are taking a break so it’s understandable that I don’t have a job.”
With determination, I started to work on my businesses and plans, hoping for them to succeed but to little avail. I did earn money through my business, but not enough to sustain me.
Yet, I am proud of myself for taking the huge leap of faith to try new things, to not stick with the capitalists’ normal way of life. I also learned to drive even while having untreated anxiety. Did I mention I also self-published a book that nobody read? Or how about crafting a journal that nobody bought? That’s hard work, and I’m proud of it.
However, trauma seeps in when motivation reigns on my mind. Flashbacks of disgusting memories come back ’til all I want is to hide under the covers of my bed. And for months, it happened. I couldn’t sleep well and it took all the strength in me to force myself to get out of bed in the mornings.
I lost my drive and energy. I wondered what people thought of a jobless nobody. I wondered what will become of my life.
Wishing to have all the answers to my questions but without making ways to find them, is a waste of time. Truth be told, I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.
There are days I feel like a failure. And it always comes back to, “what do people think of me?”
But what do I think of me?
I think I need time to heal.
I haven’t been to a therapist so I can’t diagnose myself but I’m 80% sure what I’ve been through constitutes in the word: trauma.
And people will never understand, which is why I have to get back to the core of who I am and what I’ve been through. It’s a tough road and I’m just not strong enough at the moment.
A few days ago I woke up and told myself:
If you’re gonna spend your days staying at home, then you better make it worthwhile.
I splashed myself alive with the coldest amount of determination I could get. Then I worked.
Nowadays, I do laundry and clean the house then I got to bed without feeling guilty.
Maybe that’s all I can take for now. And maybe that’s okay.
I’m not yet ready to face the harsh realities of the world if I can’t overcome the cruelty of my own memories.
As much as I’d love to journal, I just don’t have the patience to do it these days. My mind flies away so fast, I can’t sit still and reflect without feeling guilty.
Also, most of my old journals never see the light of day once they are stored away.
I decided to do this journal right here on my blog so that I can just open with a click and look back on my thoughts.
I usually leave goals behind, mostly because I forget about them as I’m consumed with other worries in life. But I hope I can finish this journal by Project Love.
Shoutout to the love of my life, Hermes, thank you for being here and reading this. ☺️
Today’s question reflects upon the person who gives the best advice.
So… Let me tell you about my boyfriend.
Aside from being handsome, kind and intelligent, he’s also a great listener.
I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about his advices that just soothes my heart. He speaks with empathy and wisdom.
I’ll always be grateful that God gave me such an amazing lover in my life.
I’ve got a bestfriend and a boyfriend in one person! How cool is that?
I’ve always been sensitive, I’m even considering myself to be a part of the “highly sensitive person” community or the HSP.
Whenever I share about what’s in my heart, I’m usually answered with: “you’re too sensitive.” “it’s not a big deal.” “get over it.”
But with him, I feel understood. I know I can always come to him and be understood. I love him very much.
I can only hope, that I’m that person for him too. I want to be a good listener… even if I’m not good in giving advice, the least I can do is to listen wholeheartedly without any judgment.
The nicest compliments are the ones you never hear.
-read this before but i forgot where..
I think this statement is true since most of us don’t know how to tell someone we admire them without feeling cheesy or a fraud.
We usually can’t take compliments so we brush it off. I’ve experienced what it’s like to sincerely compliment someone and them thinking that I was just being polite.
But I did mean it and I hope they realized it.
I’m guilty as well because I usually brush off a lot of compliments that come my way. I don’t like compliments because they create expectations for me to live up to.
But I want to change that perspective. Maybe some people are truly sincere and a simple “thank you” can make their day.
Why is it so easy for us to forget the compliments yet remember for years and years the nasty comments people made against us?
Maybe we’re trained to focus on the negative.
Today’s question is:
What is the nicest compliment you have been given recently? Who said it? Why was it meaningful?
I had to reflect on that. I haven’t been out a lot to meet with people, and the times I did go out, I was usually met with some unpleasant side comments.
However, one scenario came to mind.
One evening, I was chatting about my day with my boyfriend when suddenly he told me that I’ve changed. I looked happy and free.
It’s meaningful to me because I have been deconstructing my religion, and have taken a different approach in life. I still believe in God and I think I always will.
I never thought I could embrace the people around me with love and acceptance, simply because I wasn’t taught that. I was conditioned to view people as prospects or candidates for church membership, rather than human beings with complicated lives. Human beings hungry for love and connection.
I cried out to God for repentance and eveyday I learn something new. It’s a daily challenge to undress myself of a selfish perspective, along with all the other false beliefs I held about God, love and life.
When my boyfriend noticed the change in me and complimented me for it, I couldn’t explain the satisfaction I felt. It was a very meaningful moment for me.
I have changed. I’ve always wanted to, and now it’s beginning.
I’m working hard on myself, always learning and stripping my mind of all the trauma that was inflicted upon me. It’s not a pleasant journey, but I believe it will be so worth it.
During the month of May, I mustered the courage and probably lost my rationale when I decided to share my blog to my family members. I even created a Facebook Page and invited almost all of my family in the hopes of generating traffic for future posts.
Only, those future posts never came.
Here’s why.
“You think you write well, but you don’t.”
Those weren’t exactly the words said to me but it ran along the same lines, coupled with a mocking tone. Congratulations! My sunny hopes were shattered. I said goodbye to my inspiration to write.
I’ve been told before by various people atleast five times in mocking and condescending ways that I don’t write well, that I’m not talented, that I’m not a real writer, etc.
And believe me, I know. I know that I’m not a good writer.
I’ve accepted that fact a long time ago, but it took years for me to build up the courage and confidence to share my writings to people I know.
I have absolutely no worries sharing my blogs posts or articles to strangers. But if someone I know gets to read it, I might as well hide.
That’s why I couldn’t understand what went through my mind that made me think I could share this little piece of art I have here, to my family.
Because they don’t even care.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate them if that’s how they feel. That’s alright. I’d rather them not care than make a nasty comment.
Picture my self-esteem vanishing like a mist when I heard these words:
“You think you write well, but you don’t.”
I felt like my castle crumbled overnight. (credits to tswift!)
In C. S. Lewis’ book, The Four Loves, he explained that sometimes family members make fun of someone who is different because 1) they don’t understand 2) they are insecure 3) they wish to do what the other is doing.
That happened around May, it’s July now and my family has forgotten this blog has even ever existed. I have deleted my Facebook Page and they never even noticed. I guess this is true:
If you’re absence doesn’t bother them, you’re presence never mattered.
Unknown
Well, good riddance. I have bounced back from that deep dark well I have allowed myself to climb in to.
Another lesson has been ingrained in my heart. It’s better not to tell anyone about this. If you happen to be here reading this seemingly lengthy and pointless post, I would like to thank you. Thank you for your time.
While going through a difficult time, I pushed through all the hardships and self-published my book, Threads of Hope. I am proud of myself for persevering even when the voices got loud… I once told my mom about my plans of publishing a book and she answered, “But who would ever buy that?”
I guess she’s right. It’s been more than a month. And I still got zero sales. If you’d like to prove my mother wrong, feel free to purchase it here. 😉
I don’t think it’s all about the sales but rather about the courage and the determination to not listen to the voices telling me I’m not good enough and just publish it.
I wanted to jump up and down with joy when it went live on Amazon. It took all the strength in me not to tell my mother because I know it will only be received with a lifeless comment.
Some of us have dreams that others can’t and refuse to support. But that’s okay, because you have God and yourself. In my case, I’ve also been blessed with a boyfriend who truly believes in me more than anyone ever has.
There’s light in the darkness and there is hope for us to rise up from all this negativity weighing us down. Don’t stay in the deep dark well, you can bounce back and let your light shine. Believe in yourself. ✨
Here’s some of the photos and videos I took this month! 💛🌻🌿🌄
The month of April was all about DISCIPLINE for me. I pushed myself to really stick to my commitments. I may have failed in a few but I also succeeded in some. Progress is progress no matter how small. 🤸♀️
I’m looking forward to what God brings in the next month. Hopefully, an end to this virus. Stay at home & keep safe! Here’s to more memories. 🥂
Life With Rachel 