Black And Blue

My bruised arm

I easily bruise.

Now were you expecting some emotional babble to follow? Using the word bruise as a metaphor? No. This article is not about that.

I went to the doctor a month ago and had my blood checked. Something that consists of six vials and a little fear to get over with. Eventually, it was found out that I am anaemic, a slight issue that can be cured by over the counter supplements. But I was told that it needs to be monitored intently. Still, I’m alright.

Yet I wonder, why with just a tad of a bump can cause bright colours to dance on my skin. Blue, violet, green and black. Why do I easily bruise when every tests shows I’m just below what’s acceptable?

I remember, someone once grabbed my forearm a little tighter than usual. By the next day his hand print was on me. Green bright identifiers. I’ve never seen him so alarmed. He said he felt ashamed. I asked why, when both of us were just goofing around. It wasn’t inflicted  during a fight or anything. Nonetheless, he apologized profusely.

I had to sit him down and explain that this is normal. But even at the end of it, he was still visibly shaken and appalled with himself.

It worried me to the ends of the world, thinking he would never touch me again (in a non-sexual way, jeez what’s wrong with you?).


Dark Awakenings

Thoughts from April 24, 2010.

It has become difficult to wake up.

Not the act of opening ones eyes and starting the day, but the realization that you are waking up to the same despairs that you tried to get away from by sleeping.

I’m the type that ponders ever so deeply when I’m not working or busy with anything. My mind just keeps racing and turning which some people might conclude as a worrier. Maybe I am.

There would be moments wherein I’d rather be asleep so I can save myself from worrying/ thinking. But after perhaps two hours of snoozing I’d wake up and just can’t go back anymore. My head, the moment my body recognizes I’m awake, can’t will it to doze off again. So instead of conjuring horrors lying  in the dark, I would fight it off with a book, a movie or by writing.

There would also be times wherein I can’t hold on to sleep for as long as  I need to. Dreams,  sometimes they trick me. They make me believe that its true and I’d jerk myself awake in order to escape from it. So sleep  which is intended to be a reprieve, is at times taken with anxiety.

Truth be told, my battling can only do so much. The shadows constantly knock at my doors and I would have to comfort and convince myself time and again that this is just the meds screwing my mind.  I painstakingly  soothe the voices that there really is nothing wrong and in case there is, deep within me I know what to do in order to fix it.

I’ve been running myself to the ground – spending late hours at work, running numerous errands, meeting with people, running around the mall to get things that I may or may not need, etc. – in order to ease my senses when it’s time to close my eyes. But this don’t always work; more often, sadly it doesn’t.

I think of work, of people, things I missed, mistakes made by me and mistakes made by people towards me. Then it gets all jumbled up with hopelessness and fear.

I was never good enough for myself and that feeling speaks so loudly in my head sometimes – and the meds I’m taking is making it worse.

My Tuesday

Got to work late … like four hours late.

Spent the first two hours feeling dizzy.

Worked slowly.

D shared some bad news. I told her to chill.

Vertigo sucks.

Ate breakfast.

TL J said he’s in a bad mood. I told him it’s almost over.

That he has nothing to be worried about.

Coughed a lot to clear the asthma.

Talked to J until we got cut off.

He said he’s in some sort of predicament.

I concluded the ex is still in love with him.

Ate a pint of ice cream.

Watched Ellen.

It didn’t interest me.

Read more pages of American Gods.

Took a long cold shower.

Thought of getting better.

Prayed and slept.

… at around 530pm.

— I promise, May is going to be a little more fun (or so I hope). Just as soon as I get this darn cat off my chest.

A Bit Sick and A Bit Tired

After I took my mom and brother out last Saturday, I’ve stayed in bed for the remainder of the week due to flu like symptoms and asthma.

I’m getting sickly again. The weather has been unbearable and I keep looking at the sky for some rain. I think everyone is; we’ve also been praying for it at church. It might have rained last Wednesday – for about five minutes and what followed was a hellish muggy atmosphere – yet can you spell suffocate? It brought the smell of parched earth and the sticky icky feeling that puts humidity to sweltering nuisance.

Then fire.

Last Friday, 500 meters away from my apartment fire raged and blacked the sky. I felt sorry for those watching their homes steadily and swiftly devoured by the monter. I can only thank the heavens for keeping me and my property safe.

I think I’m going to take this week a little easy. I’ve been keeping myself occupied (over friends, family, visitors, day outs, work and errands ) for more than I should. I think I’ll just stay at home and take as much relaxation as I can.

But I hope to spend my waking hours not despairing for someone. That’s as much as I can hope for some days.

Several Meds Later

And I still have trouble sleeping. I am writing this after taking less than five hours of sleep which for me is never ever enough, specially when I came from a whole day’s activity before that… and the flu before that.

I can’t believe how frustrating this is.


So I thought I can bring myself to go out last Saturday, but alas, I’m reminded of my limitations as a human. The flu was stronger than I thought.

But before that, I popped my meds last Friday like M&Ms and was thankful that I didn’t have to go to work that day. Given I keep forgetting to eat (or I’m just so darn weak to get up and grab a sandwich), my stomach started throwing hissy-fits the following day. By Sunday, I was in such bad shape, I was already crying. I lost perspective that I just had flu and not a death sentence but somehow my vulnerability thoroughly eclipsed my sensibilities.

I don’t know about you but when I get sick, the water works starts. And that my friend, aint nice to see.

I’m better now. My ears are still buzzing and my head feels like it’s still slightly spinning but I think I’m bouncing back.

My weekend wasted in bed makes for such drama. Zero sexy time, zero socializing and zero shopping.


Sunday after church, I had a long talk with my friend from Aussie over Skype.

We had a lengthy touch ups for friendship sake and I learned that she’s sick. It may take sometime before the results come in but I’m hoping it’s nothing a long vacation can’t fix. The conversation was, at the beginning, for me; sort of wanting to connect while convalescing at my lonely bed. But then it eventually became about friendship, life in general and future plans (or lack thereof).

Abby if anything is resilient and I’ve never been abashed in telling her the truth. I told her a very dark secret of mine and she was very understanding about it. But like good friends, she was quick on the lecture. She’s very much dead on and I love her kind honesty.

She’s visiting this year and I can’t wait to see her.


Spending weekend in bed while your friends watch Justin Timberlake strut live a few feet away singing Sexy Back, is soooo not nice. No not Justin and the strutting, but me stuck at home.

The least I can do is get a decent movie the moment I’m all good. Anyone wants to join me? Hey we’re doing Dutch alright?