I take this moment to cry.
from the Resistance of the Body series,
by René Glorius.
I had been debating with myself whether or not I should post this entry. It will probably not be a very cheerful one. Exorcising demons is hardly anything to smile about.
For some reason I could not place my finger on, I had begun to feel very despondent with each passing day of the week Unproductive. Boorish, even. I wanted to find the the reason for all these negative feelings and tension.
I realized I was not reaching any of my goals for the house. It was still as bare, unfinished, and unimproved ever since the last time the computer counter was made. All my grand plans for the house had come to a sudden halt, and I had this fear eating away at me.
I was afraid I had failed. I was afraid I had indeed neglected, abandoned the house.
I wanted to get angry and blame Ondoy for taking away everything I held dear, everything I worked hard for. The heavy oven that held promises of baked treats and kitchen conquests. The internet and phone lines that provided me a wealth of information. The great stash of yarn for my knitting and crocheting. My beautiful tarot deck that helped me reach out to troubled hearts. My beautiful textiles and notions. My patterns and sewing books. My trusty sewing machine.
I wanted to blame Ondoy for taking away the lovely home I made, the life I made for myself.
I'm thankful Time has bouyed me up to some level of improvement. I should count myself lucky that I still have a job, that I still have good friends, and that I still have my skills about me.
I am thankful for so much love from everyone.
I should count myself lucky I still have a house to come home too, no matter how thread-bare it may seem. A home is still a home, a house still a house.
I guess what really frustrates me is the thought that I'm still left standing on the same spot. Emergency expenditures have been popping up left and right, and it's been quite impossible for me to set aside some money to save up for repairs. I'm not blaming these expenses. I won't. I take full responsibility for my actions.
It just frustrates me that I'm still just here. It frustrates me that I'm unable to move forward with my plans.
There's a part of me that's sorely disappointed I put this post out. I ought to be strong. I ought to keep a stiff upper lip. there are millions out there homeless, and here I am whining. It's a disgrace to cry over material things.
I've done my best to keep strong all these months. I had jobs to finish, people to help, and a house to put back together. I had a job to do.
For now I'll let myself cry over my losses, just this once. I'll cry for all these precious things I lost, and what the house has been reduced to.
I'll cry, just this once.
I'm done. Time to move on.