Funny Strange Medicine

My last conversation with Ann left me with an uncomfortable thought that I’d rather spend time doing things for other people than for myself.  That’s easier for me because as I found out facing the blank page that asked to be filled, it meant sitting with pain without flinching.

After writing a long-delayed “blog” entry, I realized all I needed was to watch Frozen’s Let It Go because after not having seen it for months and after writing my cathartic missive, I cried for the first time in front of You Tube playing the song I thought everyone’s so sick and tired of.  The lyrics still resonated with me and my plight, and the song took on refreshed meaning.

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen.
A kingdom of isolation,
and it looks like I'm the Queen
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in;
Heaven knows I've tried

So it’s no use holding back and keeping things inside because they’ll blow over and appear uninvited in flashes of temper, in exhaustion, in anger.  I was tired of working and coming home to a house that needed more cleaning because I had more initiative than my only adult housemate. I was tired of letting conflicting parenting opinions about television get the better of me, waging a war inside my head.

It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all

I thought they won’t get to me in China and the distance from Manila does you good but then you have to make that distance extend itself further.  The physical length is not enough if you’re still carrying the weight inside.  The emotional distance – now that’s trickier to hold off and the hit Disney song funnily soothes like a drug.

It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me,
I'm free!

My anthem is freedom but I revert back to non-freedom, feeling trapped and bogged down when I shouldn’t.  It’s good to keep company with people who remind us of this basic freedom. 

Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You'll never see me cry
Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the storm rage on

Yup, it’s okay to live with raging storms and it just goes on around you but it’s merely storm around you.  Allow the storm to enter and you have to beat it out the door like an unwanted guest and maintain your peace. 

My power flurries through the air into the ground
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I'm never going back, the past is in the past

The past is in the past. The past is in the past.  The past is in the past.  How many times do I have to repeat that?  I’ll let Idina Menzel repeat it for me a thousand times.  She’s got the greater voice range, anyway.

Let it go, let it go
And I'll rise like the break of dawn
Let it go, let it go
That perfect girl is gone

No perfect girl here, just somebody imperfect realizing it’s okay to tell problems to fuck off. 

The "Unmendable"

I take pride in having no regrets because it points to a life well-lived and to decisions that may have led to unwanted places but still came from the heart.  But there is one decision that haunts me, one regret that taunts me that I had made a grave, unforgivable mistake. I regret going back to the Philippines for three years.  I regret choosing to live in Serendra when we could have lived in Clark.  I regret that night at Starbucks when all hell broke loose upon the fabric of my family.  I regret reading the letter that confirmed all my fears. 

There were no surprises given the complicated, overly dramatic family background.  In the first place, I did not want to go back to the Philippines at all because I knew my husband would not pass the standards of my mother and I did not want my family to see “my difficult marriage” up close.  But my husband convinced me that we needed to try out living in the Philippines if only for my grandmother who was ill and my father who missed us.  My husband wanted to find a business opportunity as well but in the three years he was there, nothing panned out except for permanently damaged relationships.

What I regret the most is that my mom and dad’s relationship is ruined beyond repair.  They had survived a bitter divorce and managed to become friends through time that heals, but now it is back to where it was when they separated the first time and probably even worse.  My dad is painted as a devil in my mom’s eyes just as my husband is (and if I may add just as her eldest brother and to a certain extent, her mother is).  That’s how my mom is when she puts extreme labels on people and I know only a miracle and grace can change that.  It’s all perfectly understandable if you know our family history. However, accepting this scenario does not go down too well for me despite rationalization and psychological analysis. 

I want to regret marrying my husband but I cannot because we have two wonderful sons who make everything, even this unpalatable debacle, worthwhile. I can’t shake off the feeling that I wish there was a rewind button I can press.  I want to go back to that tragic night and wish my dad stayed for the meeting that would change everything.  It was so strange of him, so unlike him not to stay like it was God’s deliberate joke on me.  I want to go back to that point when I was choosing where to transfer and wished I took a firm stand on Clark instead of caving in to my dad’s suggestion of Serendra which was pure temptation to be in a paradise-resort setting.  I wish I could have convinced my husband more forcefully not to stay in the Philippines then we wouldn’t have had to suffer through senseless, unnecessary inferno.

Finally, I wish I didn’t have to read that letter from my mom that validates from a person outside myself and in writing that I am what I think I am – a failure in many ways.  I went from cancer-surviving hero who protected the life of her unborn child to the most ungrateful daughter in the world whose sense of entitlement and choice of husband disappoints and disgusts her mother.

I enjoyed the three months in Singapore and the one year in Serendra but two years in Paranaque took more than its unintended toll. 

They say suffering is good and makes you grow.  They say God will turn the bad into good.  I am waiting for that day I’m sure will come because God keeps promises, though these are days simply riddled with doubt and regret – not all the time but it creeps up now and then. 

When I arrived in China after three years in the Philippines, as a coping mechanism, I viewed Frozen’s “Let It Go” innumerable times and it helped a lot because of the cathartic lyrics.  Maybe I need to sing it again and again until it leaves a stronger imprint on my brain and the regrets fade. Maybe I haven’t been praying enough and need to pray more.  Maybe I need to write more, hence this blog entry which I cannot post on my blog. 

I’ve started envying my students who have the time to express themselves on paper and I didn’t because I was too busy checking their articles and preparing for their classes.  Now, I’ve carved out these precious few hours to vent in black and white, and it’s relaxing in a way but it needs an audience, a stage where it can play out its beautiful ugliness to the hilt.     

P.S. I found a version of Let It Go that might be stronger medication:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ-jvEd0pDw