Post Scriptum

Once in a while, it feels great to have some form of reaffirmation. To have some sort of support and appreciation when you least expect it. Mine came from a friend who said that his first impression of me was that I was this person who was larger than life, who could do anything. Be anyone.

I told him it was all a mask.

He said, "No, you were the one who had it all figured out. You know, just because you feel that way right now means the "veneer" or the you that we saw or I saw wasn't true. You just have to accept, come to terms and realize that the person we admired then is still there beyond the wasteland, Elephants' graveyard. The desolation you're feeling right now. And you have to see her, look toward her, and hopefully grab at her, so eventually you can come to a point where you're embracing her again. Because you are not a defeated person. This is only a defeat. You are in pain but not worthless, but you aren't a loser or a failure. A loss."

I guess he's right. There's still some spunk left, otherwise I wouldn't struggle so hard to make things right with the last remaining embers of strength. 

And he's not the only one who said that I'm "enough". I might have given up doing nightly news oncams, which I had personally written and requested from my superiors, because  I wanted to make a point and had to get it across. However, my transfer has been taking ages...

Clarified this incident to one of my older friends who asked when I stopped and why I did. After telling him about my passive resistance, he said, "You might have given up what might be considered as a lucrative career but in the sight of those who care and matter the most, you're a superstar."

I cried. Man, did I cry.  

I guess it's time to remember that it doesn't really matter now how many times I've been persecuted for what I believed in, but, what's important is that I held my ground.

I guess it's time to apologize to the people who don't deserve to be hurt just because I'm wounded right now. 

I guess it's time to hold my tongue when I'm supposed to keep silent and speak up when I need to be heard.

I guess it's time to reconcile the differences and not be offended by those who have blatantly turned me down. Those who have exploited me and my strengths and have maliciously highlighted my faults.

I guess it's time to stop having suicidal thoughts and finally forgive myself.

****************************************************************************************************

PPS. And it was because out of necessity, not my suicidal tendency, that I had to brave the Signal No. 2 typhoon tonight. I didn't want to wait for a damp tricycle and cram myself inside with the other wet passengers. Yes, I walked head on through the rain, fierce winds, and deep mud puddles at such an ungodly hour. At one time, the wind caught my umbrella and blew it upside down, drenching me a bit.

Oddly enough, there was something beautiful about the rain being blown by the wind as the lamppost shone against the droplets. It seemed like a wet, Van Gogh "Starry Night" painting.