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On a different kind of pain

 It's a different kind of pain when you miss the one person who you thought would always be there, the one person you've shared so much with, and the one who accepted you in spite of yourself. It's a different kind of pain realizing that your best friend isn't there anymore, that you can't talk to her or hear her stories, that you won't be able to hear what she thinks. It's a different kind of pain listening to songs that remind you of her, of what you guys used to talk about, of the experiences and life changes you shared together. It's a different kind of pain when you're just one of the few who will be able to remember her light, her pureness, her laugh, her complexity. It's a different kind of pain when you know the one person who can help you in dealing with this pain is the very person whose absence is what's causing it. It hits you different. And all you can do is cry on the nights when you remember her, when you miss her, and when her...
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On Therapy

I'm in therapy. I keep on harping that to anyone I feel comfortable sharing it with. I discuss in detail what I do in therapy with just a handful of people, probably 2-3 persons. I tell anyone who's willing to listen because it's something that I want to normalize and by sharing it, I would feel more at ease about it. For years I have resisted getting help. I think I went into Psych because I thought it would help me. And I have always resisted counseling because my transference is really high, so is my abasement. But now that I am doing it, I realize how beneficial it can be, especially to someone like me who has a truckload of issues. As it is, it was Cat again who pushed me to do this--to engage in something that I need but was never brave enough to do. Inadvertently, her death pushed me into doing this. In the weeks following her death, I couldn't cope, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything worthwhile and that time in my life opened my eyes that I had to ...
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On freedom

 I'm actually cheating. I used freedom in the title all because it's Independence Day here in my country--a country that's free in most aspects yet the shackles of poverty, corruption, and small-mindedness won't ever let its people be truly free. The disparity between the poor and rich is so vast that you will witness it just by walking the streets. I am privileged, I am aware of that, sometimes too aware, and yet there are times that I forget that. Martin said I'm one of the most self-aware persons he knows, my therapist pointed out you are actually very aware of your emotions but that I always rationalize situations and circumstances, and I am actually too self-conscious to let the small stuff go. At any rate, I'm supposed to be working on something but here I am slacking off. Is that a form of freedom as well? It's a choice, yes. Do I willfully do it? Yes, I procrastinate a lot. Will I kick myself for doing this? Also yes. Hahaha. Oh well. 
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On class musings and realizations

  So here I am again with a blog.  Since last month, I've been considering creating one but with work, school. therapy, and life happening all at once, I never really got to. Now, since I have some time to kill before I fold clothes and prepare dinner, I thought I might as well do this. Everything here is rudimentary--the design is just related to the title, the color I picked because it has green and Cat loved green towards the end, and a simple theme because I have no eye for design nor the inclination to customize anything at all.  I came from Stat class, a subject I am taking for the nth time yet still struggle with. I dislike numbers, hate inferring conclusions based on numbers, yet it's aligned with what I have been doing for the past two decades. Grannarly is prompting me to change the last sentence but I'm too lazy to think of a better sentence, to change the structure because that means I might have to change how I speak. I've gone back to journaling religiousl...
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