Empowered-less

Yes, I know that the title is not really a grammatically correct one.

I guess it's weird to write after so long. I've been MIA because a.) work took over and in terms of priority, that's my number one and b.) I've been too tired to really write anything most days.  I guess, I'll take this short lunch break to let everyone know out there that I'm still alive but (just like the song) I'm barely breathing.

The funny thing about how I feel is that people always make you feel your empowered then your not. Work makes me feel that way most of the time and so does my family. I always feel like the only real choice I do make is which channel do I watch late at night when I can't sleep.

When I was growing up, I always envied adults because they make their own decisions. I thought, by this time, I've proven myself capable of deciding what I can and cannot do. But then again, I thought by this time I would be married to George Clooney or Prince Harry so I guess my judgement depreciates as seconds tick by.

The funny thing about this "growing up" is that it's totally different from "getting old". I've heard it many times over that wisdom does not necessarily come with age. But the thing is, how wise you are may not necessarily be an advantage when people can't see pass beyond your age. Yet again, I am a walking example that people will always judge the book by its cover.

I'd love to be empowered someday. To be trusted with the opportunity to talk the way I should deem to talk or walk the way I believe how to walk. Lastly, I would love to be trusted with the opportunity to be trusted. I guess it will never come easy so I should be content with simply being,

Someone Anxious.

Tired (in multiple ways)

I feel so tired.

And to think that I just came from a long weekend of fun.

Sometimes, I wonder if "this" is really worth it.

~

I'm constantly annoyed at how some people talk about individuality and flexibility when they themselves cannot change. This is stupid. It's either people think too much of you or they just simple belittle you. At the end of the day, people like me, who has had enough, would probably just leave to save our sanity.

~

Now that I'm able to write that out (in line with ranting it out later to Lucille), I guess I should apologize for not writing as often. Then again, I know not a lot of people read this to begin with so what's the point. Maybe, I should apologize to myself. I'm sorry self. You see, you don't like change and your adamant to succeed but then again, you should give yourself a break because this is already, in your belief, beyond you.

Nope, it's not the devil and in fact, you love the devil. If it was just the ruler of the underworld, you'd probably love the idea of taking over. It's the minions - or a specific one or two at that. You can't pinpoint it but you know that there comes a point where you just want to say: "F*ck off!"

Yeah.

F*ck off!

Alright, now that's said and done, it's about time to talk about stupidity. Am I stupid? Some people (even some of my closest friend) always, and without fail, makes me feel like I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just because the things that interest them no longer interests me. Even though, I'm the one always making the 101% effort. Whatever. Yeah.. I guess, I am stupid. Happy now?

~

"What do you want to do?" she says in a tone that my ears are allergic to.

Truth is, I don't want to do anything. I want to write (but apparently I'm too stupid to write), sing (but I'm pants in Karaoke) and travel (but we can't afford it anymore). So what's left to do but do everything that you do and find a content in the middle of things.

~

The weather outside is not helping because every time I get wet, I wonder if anyone out there would share their umbrella with me... Weather just makes me feel lonely and I guess I should get used to it. I am (even with friends) a lonely sad old lady who has mastered the art of the fake laugh.

~

Can't you see I'm tired? It's your turn to ring my bell, knock on my door and offer me a doughnut.

Please do.

Because I can't just be, and always will be,

Someone Anxious.

Life in a Suit: The City

Let's talk about the city...

No, I'm not talking about the city and that hit show where fashion and acts of the night are up and about. I'm talking about the city where I currently work where people are trying to pave a good walking experience (despite the smoke and the number of people constantly bumping you). I'm talking about the city I would like to dub thee as the 'Big M'.

After two years of working here, I realized that I'm quite familiar with everything already. From the restaurants, nearby shops, malls and its version of food trucks splattered on the sidewalks.

I'm used to the city.

But I don't live in it.

I'm fifteen minutes away from the city and on a good Saturday, I only need to catch a ride to the train and voila! Leisure time for me. On a working day, I take one of the shuttles that drops me off three blocks from my office. I love this walk and if I'm not rushing, I drop by a coffee shop along the way or near the back of my office building to buy a highly expensive cappuccino.

People are not as fashionable as you may think. A lot of times, people walk wearing flats or flip-flops. People leave their coats behind, unless their rushing to a meeting and are covered by the usual jacket or cardigan. Most of the time, a sea of black slacks would accompany you while waiting for the 'walking man' signal to turn green. During these moments, you are one of the urban workforce. You belong to a statistic of the employed (and hopefully, the dreamer). Sometimes, you might hear a man arguing on the phone or a bunch of girls with their office gossip. Nevertheless, you will always be accompanied by the last hurrah of an old, beaten down engine that is over its last miles.

Once you reach a nearby mall on a workday, the crowd becomes a force, a wave that will lead you to the train station if you do not counter their flow. Best thing to do would be to grab a bite before you tackle the commute home. An affordable sandwich is nearby if you want to feel like you are indeed in NY. You can eat on the steps of the mall center and pretend that behind you is some important building manufactured by history. If you feel rebellious, bars are quite open on a working day. They'd sell you cheap beer and give you a handful of peanuts while you light a cigarette and look important. Truthfully, I love this experience. Walking inside a restaurant, hitting straight for the bar while adjusting my suit to make yourself comfortable. Then, I light up a cig and I tell myself: "You had a pretty long day... at least your not jobless!"

However, the best part of my day would be the moment I step out of the office building with the sky not as dark as it ought to be. It feels early and I quickly put on my earphones. I smile and I start listening to my walking playlist. My step is a little bit faster when the song is upbeat and a little bit slower when I'm listening to something sad. It's that time of the day when you think: "Yeah, my personal time just started."

Because, honestly, the moment you wake up until your working hours end is all about work. It's all about finding the right outfit for work, rushing to be on time for work or even taking a bath because you don't want to smell when you're in work. It's not true that you can have lunch outside (unless you're having it with your own colleagues because you do work still while eating) or you can play hookie just like that (because you probably won't have work when they find out that you have no valid reason to take a leave that day).

Working in the city is hard and people always assume that it will be easy just like in the movies. I guess, what's keep me sane is the idea that when my work hours end, my personal one begins and that's why you have to get through the day.

So that's my life in a suit while working in the city. I hope you understand now why I find it so hard to meet at times. I also hope that you get it, that it's not that I'm pulling away, but I can't always extend the effort. The city is near, accessible and more affordable to me.

Suited,

Someone Anxious.

Writing About: Life in a suit

Everyone's been doing a lot of writing exercises lately. In fact, most people I follow have started and even Holly has her own version...

I thought it would be nice to keep tabs with people by writing about how my every day is going (and not just about what I feel when I'm hyped or extremely blue). But instead of talking not talking about anxiety (like Holly) or the brighter side of things, I've decided to write about my life and majority of it being my work...

Don't worry, I won't talk about company secrets or gossip. The posts won't be anything about hot office romances (which I'm not the type, truth be told) or any of the nitty gritty details that won't make any sense if you don't really know me.

Life in a Suit posts will be more of me (well, duh - it is my blog) and what are my thoughts about working on a specific day. What makes working corporate so special or (for some) dull. I know a lot of people hate talking about work but maybe this way, some of my friends might understand what I do a little bit more and realize why exactly do I do what I do.

I can't promise that there won't be some rants along the way but what I can say is that this little exercise might be able to help me (and you) realize the simple joys of working an 8 - 5 type of job.

Hope to inspire (you and I both),

Someone Anxious

Rant: When one gets sick...

It's funny how sickness trumps everything else.

Just to clarify, I'm not sick. I'm actually in good working conditions right now. Last night, I had a great time with my uncle, supporting him in his fashion show. I was able to meet his friends and a celebrity here in the city (Clue: He owns a make-up chain). Today, I finished everything I had to do (well, what I remembered to do).

Then I received a call.

My brother, living quite far if I do think so myself and thus, I officially categorizes as an absent family member of sorts finally took the liberty of informing my dad that he's sick and in the hospital. I think, to make much sense to this, I have to write about the state-of-the-nation between my family (or what's left of it).

It all started last Tuesday. My aunt informed my dad that my brother was sick. He had a fever and decided to get himself tested in the hospital. What ticked me off was that he called my cousin (who is in the states FYI) about it. This might not make sense if you don't know me at all but the short explanation is that they work together in the same bank. So practically, they go to the same office. But my brother, who he himself likes and admits, is a bit out of touch. Yes, he didn't know that our cousin is in the States right now and opted to call her so that he can be brought to the hospital.

But since my cousin is in the States, it launched a series of unfortunate events.

My cousin called my aunt (her mother and technically, my land lady). My aunt went to my dad (we all live in the same area) and informed us that my absent brother was sick. This might not seem quite unfortunate, but when you're living in the same situation as I'm in, trust me, this is the last thing you want.

Now, I just find my brother's initiative stupid.

I don't know about you, but we have one "rule" (which is really more of a norm but this is not the place to discuss academically what is culture) and that is to take care of your own family... My cousin, just brought my aunt to the hospital a week ago (which was an added stress to her) and did not, in any way bother my dad or I (until it was absolutely necessary). Now this, is quite a little bit back to normal.

Am I getting through?

Point is, you don't call a cousin or an aunt to help you out when you're in the same situation as we are. You call Dad because he's your dad. He should even call me because I'm his sibling and I think direct relation weighs heavier than first degrees.

Anyways, I called my brother and handed my phone to my dad. That's the only time my beautiful absent brother finally decided to talk to him and inform us about his condition (which at that time, was just fever and he assured us that he was okay). We went on with our lives because that's what we do. In fact, that's what he does best.

Then my dad sent us a message this afternoon that my brother was confined to the hospital. He's stable but it just so happened that he had dengue. I called my dad, set a schedule and we both decided to visit him tomorrow early morning so that we can finish whatever we're doing tonight and focus tomorrow. Seems sound? I thought so too.

My sister didn't think so though.

As if she was here geographically, she set me a mirage of text messages on what to do. I call her to inform her what Dad and I planned and 'lo and behold I get a verbal slapping session.

"Why can't you just go there!?"

"I'm booking a flight home and you won't even go there when you are just a couple of cities away!?"

"I don't understand! Have you even called him yet? Don't you even care?"

"Wouldn't you want us to visit when you are in the hospital, confined?"

"Where is your sense of family!?"

I swear to whatever god or gods are out there, I have never been this angry. Sister dearest, how dare you tell me about my sense of family! I have done nothing but give everything to family. From sacrificing everything for my grandmother, uncle and mother - even staying with her until the very end; From staying with Dad, my aunt and my cousin - because their family and that's where I should be; From doing something and putting your dreams on hold - because in this family, dreaming isn't cost effective; From giving every inch of an extra penny, every ounce of blood, sweat and tears because of family. I swear to god, if I have a fucking wrong sense of family, then maybe I should just jump off a building!

If I was confined, wouldn't you want to visit? Fuck this! I was confined. I was sick to the bones. In fact, I've been in and out the doctor's office for the past six months! Who did I call first, my dad. I asked help from the person's whose responsibility is to help us in the first place.

Tell me, my family-oriented sister, who is the one talking to our insensible grandmother? Who is the one taking care of her, visiting her every week and even buy her requests? Who is the one keeping our dear uncle sane, supporting him and giving him every bit of extra I can scoop? Who remembers dad's birthdays, arranging everything for him and making sure he takes his meds and eats healthier? In fact, who texts and calls our dear absent brother even though we both know he will never reply or texts?

Tell me, my family-oriented sister, when was the last time you looked at our grandmother and actually talked to her without rolling your eyes? When was the last time you talked to our favorite uncle and asked him really how he's doing physically and emotionally? When was the last time you gave dad something he really wants (and your monthly contribution doesn't count because we all do that)? I may be here for the good times, but trust me when I say that I'm also here for the fucking, dirt-poor, agonizing ones. Remember? You left! You fucking left and I had to catch all the crap.

Never insinuate that I have no sense of family because I have done everything to keep ours a working semblance of one. If you think I have no sense of family, then there's one reason why I should just give up on ours.

Now I truly see that Holly was right. Maybe, this is more reason for me to be more adamant to not have one.

Obviously Ranting,

Someone Anxious

Missed.

I often wonder if I am missed.

I write about so many things I miss and now, I can't help but think if anyone really truly misses me. It's hard being left behind at times. Everyone's got someone (is that a song somewhere?) and at times I feel as if I'm downgraded to number 2.

I don't mind.

I mean, I understand... I understand that love is stronger (isn't that what I write all the time here?). I understand that it's the natural course of things: to be moved to number 2. I guess, as number 2, I try really really hard to be there for people. To fill my days with catching up, meeting up and getting along. I try to keep busy, not take any offense and make the most of being left behind.

It's not that lonely, I realized. But there's that feeling of wanting to be missed that nags you late at night.

I told a friend on mine, over a cup of yogurt, a few weeks back that I've been running. I've been running as far away as I could so I  can forget about the things I want to forget and not remember about the situations that happened. I keep busy, tiring myself out with work or keeping myself out from home. I drink (or act drunk at times) to pretend to be happy. I tell happy stories, eat the most bizarre of foods and pretend to fail jokes because I want it all to go away at night when I'm alone in bed thinking about an old room, an old house, an old life and even an older lover.

But that's the way things are supposed to be... that's the way it is because everyone has something or someone. They have their own lives to live and I cannot expect them to be there, to cry with me after so much time has passed. I am but a percentage of what people can or cannot give. At the end of the day, we're all just part of an emotional statistic.

I'm not bitter... I'm not sad. I'm just here.

People tell me to take risks, to do what I want to do, to pursue this and to pursue that... but can I really? Honestly? Can I? Reality comes to haunt me every month. I have bills to pay, people to take care of and things to settle. Sometimes, I wish these people can understand what it really feels like to live in the 'real' world. I'm sick and tired of people saying how grown-up they are when in fact, truth is they're not. Only a few people I know understand and that's probably because they went through the same things...

...they were hungry, once, like me.

...maybe they just want to be happy, like me.

...possibly they just feel missed, like me.

Me,

Someone Anxious

Burst and Bloom

To Someone Out There Who Will Feel Incredible Pain After Reading This:

It's funny how a person you used to love tend to disappoint you still.

It's funny how said person ignores you now but back then you couldn't stop talking to each other.

It's also funny how said person won't give back your belongings after borrowing and promising he'll give it back in mint condition.

It's just funny because regardless of whatever happened and whatever is currently happening in your life (and I assume in other people's), you have no right to be so disrespectful. I find that not replying to me because you apparently "forgot" that something your using belongs to me is so disrespectful. It's not about what you borrowed, it's how your acting like a 4 year-old wishing you won't be caught (that's the vibe I feel).

So please, Mr. Can't-You-See-I'm-Over-You-Coz-I'm-With-A-Better-Girl, reply to my messages. It would be nice also if you return my item. If you don't, then I hope you can just fuck it! Here's to you being a good example to her kid.

Sincerely,

Someone Anxious.

PS. There's a secret message somewhere up there.