THE ANATOMY OF RELATIONSHIP

I  sat   alone  by the garden  at  my  aunt’s place.  The wind   broke in  my pores, sending   chills    throughout  my  body.    Only  the   stars   illumined   the    sky,  casting    a   pale light  to  where  I was.

With  the wind, the branches  quivered,  so  did  my  soul.  I was touched  by   the serenity  that engulfed  me.  I had to keep my silence for one moment.  That single moment lasted   long..  Long  enough to accommodate  many thoughts.

The  night  went  on. And the  quietness  evoked something.

While many  things preoccupied  me, I can only  submit  to the  lessons  of that  tranquil night.   It was a time   for solitude  especially as my heart  was needing rest. I needed  some time  off  from  all that  disturbs  my peace… all that  pains  my heart…  all that  confuses  my  judgment… and everything  that obscures    my  true  vision. I needed   that   moment  to  reconstruct  my  goals and  to know the things  that    should truly    matter.

The thoughts that flooded in surprised me and I wanted to capture  them   so  I would never  forget.  Amidst  all   that distracts me, something   that  night  made sense:

Of  what  is  partner?

We  look  for a person  who is   going  to  be   our  twin soul.  Some  have   found  the one   they  feel  entwined  with their   hopes  and dreams,   while others  are still in constant search.  So   what  does   having  a partner   mean  to me?   Being    with  someone    is   like   finding    another  reason  for  a conversation…  its    finding  another   place  to  enjoy   the walk…it’s feeling inner peace  that   even  in the  great silence   there    exist  a conversation  that  only  the heart  knows.

What about  when  such partnership  goes awry? Then perhaps no matter how special the other person is and how much willing you are to love him (her) more, it makes sense to let go because you know that you deserve to be loved back much better. While he has his needs for belongingness, you know for a fact that you also desire not only physical but also emotional intimacy.

To find the person who complements who you are is like finding  another set of shoes to begin the journey with… towards growth, completeness and hopefully, contentment.

If your partner impedes your growth as a person, limits your world and defines life for you from his own perspective and dictates your heart to keep down its voice for the sake of holding the relationship together, or for by his actions you realize that he cannot be your solace, find the strength to set free. Free yourself from consenting to a life you are not meant to live because despite the many concepts about love,  romantic relationships normally should make one happy and at peace.

Relationships are never perfect of course. But if there are more dead silence than heartfelt conversations between lovers, more heartaches than laughter, more indifference than belonginess, or when you feel alone despite your togetherness, when you cry alone and he’s out there somewhere unaware of your own pains, try to let go of the hand that ‘s never meant for you to hold for long.. It is all right to sacrifice because there is no perfect match but sacrifice for the right reasons.

Do not settle for something less than what’s enough. Love sometimes is selfish because it wants exclusivity. And there is nothing wrong with that because it says something about commitment. Loving, however, is also a selfless act. And being selfless is not forgetting oneself or one’s needs, but a person in love  recognizes that  apart from himself  there’s a separate identity whom he is willing to compromise. Desire someone who is willing to step out of himself so he can also pay attention to you: what makes you happy or what brings you pain. He steps out of himself so you can meet halfway, blend your dreams and be able to grow with you.    

Having a partner means finding the  person you feel  connected with,  whom  you’d  go through life’s  difficult times with when the  good vibes falter and there is discord. Because  you still know that he (she) is your other wing. And life  would  not be as exciting   without  the other person because in him (her)  you  have  found  a special reason to look at life with  a little  more glare. Thus life becomes a little bit  reasonable,  a little bit grand, a little more tolerable because you have each other. And you grow tall together.

After all, growth is an essential element in human relationships. Love draws in something positive – that is a resounding fact I know. If someone  pulls  you  together and  makes sense out of your life, then  you have found your  Home. But if you degenerate because you are in love with someone, perhaps it makes sense to say that it is not  worth nurturing. Therefore, not   worth  your   time.

"MY BOYFRIEND IS A SUPERHERO"

I am an artist. I have special skills. With the strokes of the brush, I can create a masterpiece. I don’t only paint, I sculpt. From a lifeless bar of clay or a dull, cylindrical candle, I can create a nude woman, a mother and child, a man’s beautiful body. Suddenly a fluid figure comes out from a meaningless form. They all come to life because I have the gift of expression. My art can tell a story of pain, of passion, of freedom, of a lively imagination without a single word. I am an artist and artists make the normal extraordinary.

My boyfriend, though, does special things — extraordinary things that even I am not capable of. You know why? Well, he makes extraordinary kids live normal lives as much as possible. An extraordinary job, I must say!

My boyfriend, Stephen, is a SPED teacher. He specializes on children with special needs, children who are now called “mentally challenged.” Eight hours, he devotes his time helping kids handle their daily activities, as well as assisting parents cope because childhood disorders place financial, social and emotional strain to families.

Every weekend we stay at the Center for an hour before we go for our usual date. He wants me to appreciate the kids and understand his work. That is because I sometimes get jealous of the time and the passion he allot to his work. It’s really irrational of me to complain but I’m just a woman in love and, well, women in love get jealous, sometimes, right? I always tell myself I need to respect his work just as he respects my passion.

“That’s Dominique,” he said, pointing at a little girl at the corner of the room.

“What happened to her?” I asked while looking at the child purposelessly moving her hand.

“She has RETT’S SYNDROME. She was normal after birth but she started to regress between 5 months and 4 years. Now her ability to communicate is impaired and her social skills are poor,” Stephen explained to me.

“She seemed scoliotic, isn’t she?” I asked after noticing that her trunk movements are clumsy.

“You will also notice when she walks that she has unsteady, wide-based, stiff-leg gait. She even does toe walking sometimes. Often, you will notice her teeth grinding, her repetitive hand movements like hand washing, hand wringing, hand mouthing, tapping and clapping.”

“Honey, if her mental growth and development are impaired, what happens when she reaches puberty?”

“Well, she would still undergo normal sexual growth and development. Although, sometimes, even if masturbation is a normal act, it happens in inappropriate times. So parents should learn to modify this behavior in public,” he explained while giving me a silly look.

“Her feet is rather small, hon.”

“Yes, children with Retts have small feet and they have poor circulation in the lower extremities so their feet are often cold, bluish-red. Usually, they suffer from equines (downward pointing of the foot) and valgus (heals are together and the toes are apart) and pronation. No cure for this one, hon.”

We moved closer to a little boy named Noel, whom he said is a case of ASPERGER SYNDROME. This disorder, he said, is same with autism but less severe in which the child also has impaired social interactions, repetitive mannerisms, and non-functional rituals. Unlike Dominique or Jacque (a case of autism), Noel has no problem with language. He has normal IQ and his language skills may even be superior to those of an average child. Children with Asperger may even function independently.

“Sofia, about 4 years old, is a case of CDD (CHILDHOOD DISINTEGRATIVE DISORDER). Last year, when she reached three, he started to regress.” Stephen continued to intrigue me.

“You mean, she unlearned skills?” Now he really got me interested.

“Yes! She regressed to a lower functional level following serious illness. Now she has lost previously acquired language, motor or social skills. She will gradually deteriorate to a severely retarded level. The thing is, it cannot be treated nor cured so she would definitely need lifelong care.

Hearing him say that really made me sad. It seemed so hopeless.

“Now this little one here is Aaron,” patting him gently on the head. He manifested impulsiveness and hyperactivity (ADHD) when he turned 4. He is now seven. There won’t be any interference with his academic performance and social functioning until middle school.”

“Heredity?”

“Yes. But it can also occur with children who do not have familial history. Sometimes, it can be caused by neurologic impairment, prenatal trauma, early malnutrition hypoperfusion of the frontal lobe and use of drugs during pregnancy. ADHD is primarily a problem with sustained attention, concentration and task persistence. He’s very inattentive, aggressive and poorly behaved.”

Aaron begins to move his legs restlessly, fidgets his hands and impulsively interrupts our conversation.

“He’s the one giving me a headache most of the time, hon. He always has temper tantrums and does not follow through requests and he forgets easily. He also has low tolerance to frustration.”

“So what do you then?”

“Well, we give him structured routines, school intervention plan, and detach modified parenting techniques. In the morning, we give him methylphenidate (Ritalin) which is a psycho stimulant, as well as Dextroamphetamine (Dexidrine) and amphetamine (Benzedine). But these suppresses his appetite, makes him sleepless, gives him depression, stomachaches, high BP and headaches. We also give clonidine, antidepressants and antianxiety drugs.”

Children with ADHD never outgrow their inattentiveness but they become less impulsive and hyperactive overtime. Some adapt well with their inattentiveness but those who could not cope up report to alcoholism and substance abuse as they grow older.

“Now those two kids over there are Justine and Julia,” Stephen pointing at the kids near the table. “They are a case of MENTAL RETARDATION, with an IQ of less than 70. It is not a mental illness, just a developmental disability.”

“Really?”

“If someone calls you moron, hon, give him a silly laugh.”

“Why?!” pinching him hard.

“Ouch! C’mon, it’s a mild mental retardation with an IQ of 50 -70 and you still are educable.” Laughing. “Then you retaliate by calling him, well, you choose: Imbecile (Moderate) with 35-49 IQ (trainable); Idiot (Severe) with 20-34 (needs close supervision); or, profound with below 20 IQ which needs custodial care.”

“I see. Of course, I’ll retaliate with Profound” winking at him with a jest.

“Normal people should have an IQ of 90-110. The borderline is 71-89. Mental retardation could be a result of a problem with trisomy 21 instead of 2 such as in Down Syndrome (Mongolism); Klinefelter (47XXY) which results in underdeveloped secondary sex characteristics like small testes producing defective sperms and gynecomastia (breast enlargement in men). It could be also caused by lack of PKU enzyme that converts phenylalanine to tyrosin resulting to accumulation of phenylpyruvic acid that damages the brain and Tay Sachs an inherited disorder of lipid metabolism causing mental retardation, blindness and weakness.” He continued.

“All we do here is to promote optimal development. We make life bearable for them and the family who needs our support.” Taking my hand, we walked towards the door out of the classroom.

“I am not saying that you love what I do honey. All I want is for you to see these kids are part of me.”

“I know.” It was really sensitive of him to say those words.

Kissing my forehead, he said “Besides, you’re going to need my patience one day when I’ve become a dad. I don’t need special kids, though. Normal kids are special enough! And mommy here doesn’t have much patience with little ones.”

“Hey! I’ll be a good mom, you’ll see.” Taking my hand from him.

“Hahaha.. just kidding. Of course, you’ll be. I knew it from the start,” slipping his arms around my waist while we walked towards the car.

“So now let me take my favorite baby to a special date.” And he gave me that smile I always loved about him.

For me, my boyfriend is a SUPERHERO.
He does special jobs for those special kids.
While I make extraordinary out of the normal,
he brings the extraordinary lives of those kids
as close to normal as possible.

A Good Day’s Rain

                         It was raining that day.

                         Looking down from the terrace,  I had an old familiar feeling. It was more of calm than gloom. I was just at peace with the present. The past   and the  future were suspended into the background  and I was simply feeling the moment.  Immersed in the actual presence of things. Grateful enough to even have that moment to start afresh. 

    I was watching the rain continuously drain into the red canopy  and   eventually  making  the  tip-tap  sound   as the water poured  into the  pots of plants. There  were  two trees on both  sides.  Their leaves were a lush of green.  Under their  shades were  benches  that looked like  huge wheels.  I was   just there  captivated by the  soothing calmness as  I watched   the grey clouds pool together   warning of heavier rains. Looking beyond the  fence, I saw   a well-kept  lawn where I imagined   lying  down  while  the raindrops  drench me.  Unafraid of the cold. Just welcoming the sky above me. Appreciating its boundlessness.

                            I touched the  railings of  the terrace  and it  was cold. The rain was  already sipping through the glass windows. The cars were  neatly parked.  Two men   passed  by with their raincoats on.   Some children were   happily splashing the waters on the streets. I remembered  how my brothers and I used to be during rainy  days  of  our  childhood. We would race climbing on trees back home and shake the branches  for   more dew drops. 

 Then  we would all plunge  in the well nearby and catch  tadpoles  while   frogs  make  noises under the rain. We  still  have that  well back  home, although it looked really big when we were kids.

                      The rain brought fond memories.   That day, I appreciated the pleasure of the moment. I was made aware of   my breathing and of the life  I have.  I was there just sensing the world I’m in.   More  conscious of the  fleetingness of time.  Just appreciative of the  presence of life   in me and  around me. Not curious of the future, not critical of the past. Just making small steps within my present reality. Unhurried  and  uncomplicated.  Raw. And I savored it before  worries  and preoccupations   set in.  Before   the unsolved issues of the past  and the  unmet plans of the future  come into the spotlight  again.

                        That day was a brief lucid reality where my own “internal universe” was still and quiet. No rumblings of any kind.  Yes, the clouds were dark, the rain brought in the cold wind, the whole place  was foggy, but   it was  a good day. It never has been better!   

EXPERIENCING SAGADA

Sagada. So much has been said about it but those who have been there certainly have varying experiences. I would say, mine was of a different story, too. Before the summer finally ended, my friends and I endured the rough terrain on our way to what they call “Off the Beaten Path.”

Going to the Mountain Province was the farthest we had so far been and am especially glad to have tagged along. The pine trees, lofty mountains and rice terraces undoubtedly left a mark in us and for as long as our memory would serve us right, there will be imprints (in our minds) of the panoramic view along the trail and into the heart of Sagada. And just as we boast of having captured the view in our cameras, it was the place that, in truth, enchanted and took possession of us in awe.

The  trip via Banaue to Sagada exhausted us but thrilled us at the same time. It also rewarded us the fulfillment of having lived that inspiring experience. After an 18-hour travel from Manila, we finally reached the municipality of Sagada before dark on a Saturday afternoon. I could see that I was not the only one “beaten” by the ride.

At first sight of the town made me feel a bit disappointed though. Sagada as a tourist attraction did not measure up to my expectations. It was a small town with locals and there was nothing new nor exciting about the place. It was a commonplace and I thought I came all the way just to see a simple town that did not look interesting.

But I adjudged Sagada too quickly and it was rude of me. We rested awhile in the Sagada Guest House before we went to see the Echo Valley where overlooking were hanging coffins. The next morning, off we went to find the secrets of the forests and savored the rich greenery and the serenity of the century old burial sites. We sought for solace and I, for one, found my heart peaceful.

That day, we travelled the trails to the Sumaging Cave, one of the most popular caves in the area. On our way, where it probably took us 20 minutes, there were pine trees with their daunting height. At the right, beyond the cliffs, we had a wonderful view of the valleys and plateaus. They were magnificent mountains and rice terraces, accentuated by the colors of robust trees and rich brown soil.

It was as if I was looking at autumn with the blend of orange, brown and green. It was a masterpiece of the Divine: the trees, the ricefields and the mountains were beautiful just as they are. It was a simple forest and planting field but it was not a commonplace after all. It was a sanctuary where I imagined nymphs and fairies dwell, where fireflies abound and the soft breeze and morning mist were the spirits of the woods.

Barefooted, we descended into the cave and in it we witnessed unorthrodox display of stalagtites and stalagmites and many other rock formations. It was a new sight and was pleasurable indeed. Sometimes, we had to immerse into the cold water just to get across.

Roaming, we touched the rocks and I could feel there is life in the walls of the cave. There were fossils among the rocks and they breathe some significant history. I have learned that the cave was created by water erosion. We no longer pursued the underground pool nearby because it was too dangerous to do so. Emerging, I know that I will never touch everything in that cave again and the rumbling waters will forever echo in my mind.

 We proceeded to the burial sites, one of which was just along the road and the other farther on the other side. It was amazing to see a different way of burying the dead and I admire natives who had thought of it. I also learned that the locals before bury their dead according to the manner by which they died. There were separate burial sites for those who died in child birth, sickness or natural death. That practice, however, is no longer observed at present.

In the afternoon, we hurried to the ( ___) falls which took us another roller coaster ride and an hour trek — one way. The view along the trail was surprisingly beautiful and I thought to myself that while the pictures about it were promising, the real thing was incomparable. This was where my personal journey began. Looking far as I could, I felt so insignificant compared to the vast expanse of space staring at me, to the huge mountains that say “I am mighty.”

Meantime, the trees, hanging on the cliff, found their rightful places under the sky and stayed there without complaints. They were beautiful at such an awkward state. God has placed them just where they should be, not one tree among the millions I saw at that moment seems misplaced. I consoled myself that if God had placed those trees at their special places, so would He find mine. Just a thought that rang louder than it ever did in my head.

We found the falls but the water was so cold. I just lavished the scenery: the waterfall was too lofty that the water broke hard against the rocks as they flowed to somewhere I do not know. There were playful kids with us in that “sacred place,” where one can whisper to the rocks one’s silent anguish or private hopes; where one can relay to the waters the desires that only the heart knows so that the water as it flows can carry whatever secrets it was given. In this way, only the rocks, the moss, the trees could exchange the secrets of a heart that unlocked itself in silence and found communion with nature which will never speak of what it had known. Then the secret will forever be kept safe among themselves.

I opted to walk alone on our way back to the road. Something in me prodded to shun away from the others for a while so I could listen more intently to my heart. I hungered for silence so that every step of the stairway back to the road was a quest for some realization. I looked around the cliffs and the steep mountains and I felt a bit of sting. I felt so misplaced and I envied the trees because unlike them, I still am trying to discern my rightful place in this big wide world. I envied them for the tranquility they offer and the simplicity they exude, while I, I am no longer simple as far as my dreams and ambitions go and I rarely find serenity amidst many concerns.

At such time, I felt to be a wanderer, lost in the world and hopeful to see where I fit. Well, enough of the drama. But I needed it, I must admit. Back to the municipality, we watched the stars at the rooftop. It was a truly romantic evening that awoke the dreamer and the poet in me.

It was a time when my heart was both “still and rumbling” at the same time; wherein there was communion with the “Soul of the World” and solitude as well; wherein I felt happy being with friends and yet at some point I felt so alone. Yes, it was a night of mixed feelings and I, for one, needed to live that moment. Before we finally ended the trip, we stopped by in Baguio where a nice cozy room awaited us for the night.

It was Tuesday afternoon when we finally reached Manila to attend to mountains of a different kind: office files. On our way to Sagada and back, we have seen sights that delighted the heart and I must admit that my dream of travelling had come to life. I was filled with awe and I will happily sigh upon remembering our days there. The mountains were unconquerable, the sky (although we were already in high altitude) remained unreachable, the magnificent stonewalls in the cave could only be touched and memories were the only thing we had ever taken with us back home.

The whole experience in Sagada was like a dream and dreaming always ends with waking up …and so we woke up to reality, which by the way, is also an interesting adventure!

YOU (and I)

You are my Pathfinder

(when my direction takes off course)

my Lighthouse

(amidst sea of troubles)

my Wishing Star

(upon a DREAMy evening)

my warm Embrace

(under a cool shade of security).

You are the Spark in my poetry.

You are my Sponge for tears

my Chat in a lazy afternoon

my Walk in the rain

my laughters’ Echo

my Twin Smile among a crowd of strangers

and I…

I am your greatest admirer

and your number one fan.

Together,

I am the free kite that dances with the wind;

You are the string that keeps me steady.

Thankfulness

Think of the  times  you were at peace. Nothing troubles you. Nothing  disturbs  your heart. Not a single doubt   about your future  in your mind. Just  the silent peace  out  of knowing you  are loved and that Someone’s aware   of what you’ll ever need.

Capture  this moment. You  want to live in  thankfulness. A state of  life that tells you  you are blessed. And  you  should  be thankful  that   while you  don’t have the things    you  want, you  have  what  you’ve got so far.

- You  have  your family  with you  while there are broken relationships somewhere   in this  part of the globe.

- You  breathe  freely  like there’s so much ahead of you  while  others  labor  for a gasp of air. Some are sustained by a ventilator  while others  need intubation every now and then.

- There  are a thousand  out there without   the gift  of sight and you  can just imagine  how eager they  are to see themselves in  a mirror.  They  have not seen the sunset on waters.  They have not seen  what a flower is, or what a bus is.  They can only  create a picture  in their mind about the  things that you tell them.  They can feel   you,  touch  you   or hear  you, but  they  can never see your face or the  glow in your eyes.

Some  people   don’t have  what  you  have. And  you  have to be grateful for these things.

-You  can hear people  in a  conversation while others   try  to read  only  through   gestures,  facial  expressions or lip movements. Some  will never hear the soft spoken “I Love You,”  not  even the nagging of  a cranky neighbor.  Not even when the door slams,  or a screeching  vehicle coming near.   They  can only sense  by intuition  or by  the sight of things.

-  But even  SENSE  sometimes fails   thousands among us  everyday.  Some  people are  numb from  heartaches or loss  or personal tragedy.  A person’s  nerve pathways  simply  shut down and the  transmission of   impulses stops. Then  pathological condition  happens  and the person loses  awareness of  the  fundamental idea of “hot or cold.”

- Some   undergo dialysis   while    your  kidney  still   performs the  normal filtrating process.

-Your  liver  continues to  metabolize fats,  your  glands regulate   your  hormones to a normal  level.  There is  homeostasis ( a state  of internal equilibrium) in your  body.

- You can still  recall   while others have lost  their memories.

Can  you imagine  people  restricted  by physical disabilities? Can  you  imagine  the  number of people  rushed  by the minute to the  hospital because    they   had a heart attack,    a vehicular   accident, internal hemorrhage  or because of episodes  of apnea.   Think of those  who  lost awareness  of themselves   and went into coma, or paranoia, delusion, amnesia  or  schizophrenia?   They  are   those  who have detached    from  reality  because of  depression or because   specific   neurotransmitters  in their brains  suddenly   fluctuate from  normal levels?

-  Imagine  the many  who  are  particular  with time  or  with the   food they take  because   they  are  watching over  their   blood sugar. Ask the diabetics.

-Think  of those  in chemo or those undergoing lifetime  hormonal therapy.   Can you imagine the inconvenience   they have to go through everyday?

-  Imagine  those who,  in the  first place,  were never allowed  to be born because they  have   selfish parents  who were too   coward   to raise their  own children.

-Imagine  your  life devoid of the  single “little “  blessing that  you  have now.   Then tell   me how  you  feel.

-  Yes,   you  are  lacking   while others are   abundant.   You  complain, all right. You  scream in frustration  and  you  sulk in pity   because others are  far more blessed.  These   things  console  you little,  you may say. And  your  sorrow  still multiply.   You grow in envy   because  others   still get the better  part   while  you  are stuck in between the  BEST  and the WORST. There  are things  that   are difficult  to make  sense.   But  this   I know:  that you  can still live in gratitude  for the things  that  you   already  have  and  for THOSE  YOU DON’T  HAVE.

- You  don’t  have a ventilator  hooked to you.  You  don’t  have injections to take.   You  don’t  have medications to  regulate  your   neurotransmitters  because   if they fluctuate   then  you may  have bipolar disorder, Alzheimer’s  and Parkinson’s  diseases to  mention a few.

-  You are a  well   person, equipped  with  useful  skills. You  don’t  have  your life’s partner   and  you  are growing impatient  but   you    are ALIVE   and   every day  is a POSSIBILITY.

-  You   don’t  have  the career  that   you   dream about, the house  that   you’ve been  dreaming of,   or  your  own business that    could make   you feel  fulfilled and competitive. But  you  are  NOT DEAD, are you?

No one is convincing you  to be content. Life is only asking that  you be grateful   despite    the aches in your  heart.

You grieve  for the things  that are not given you  even  when you  feel you really   deserve  them.   How can  we know the   reason why?

No one  is asking you  to love  your failure. But  you  are asked to   continue  believing  that you  deserve more  and  you  can have them,  if not  today, then the next time may be.

This  will not  console much  but these are hard facts of life.   Every  single  day   though, stands  for one thing: that  something  can change! That  your brokenness may soon heal. That you  may   get  the  big breakthrough in your   life. That you  can meet the one  you’ll say “I do.”  That you  can sing  and dance  because you  are well.   That  you  can be happier.

The tide  will turn to your favor. The wind will change  direction. And the rain that  got you  wet and chilling  will give way  to the rainbow. If not today, then in another  time.

Nature tells us  that there are rebirths;  there are  renewals. The day breaks to full light  only to  recede   for  the night  to befall.  The caterpillar crawls  before it   can have wings.   The  turtle creeps slowly  but it  still “ARRIVES.” The birds  have hollow wings   so they  could fly. And  sometimes  our lives need to be  hollow  so  we  could  be light  for  flight. Our  souls need to  embrace  the darkness  because  it makes us desire  to bring  in the light.   Our  hearts   at times need   to ache  so we can appreciate more  the idea of happiness.  And  frustrations    are inevitable so we can see that  we  are misplaced or so  we could see what else we need to  do  to get  to where  we want. Just like the turtle, we too  shall ARRIVE.

Emptiness  tells  us  that we have a large vacant  space  to fill. Our emptiness  tells  us   that we can be “FILLED.“

                           Now breathe. This very simple act   should  tell  you something  important, don’t you  think?

April 25, 2009 at 9:00 am 

LOVING A BOY FROM A DIFFERENT WORLD

                                         I told  him   I love him. Many times.  Over and Over.

                                         All he could  do  was  stare at my direction blankly,

                                                       as  if I wasn’t there at all. 

He has a world of his own  and  seldom   do  our   worlds   merge.  Meet Jacque.  He is  just  one of  the  kids   who need  special  help in   the  Center  for Mental Health  where I work.     Every  child  experiences feelings of   sadness,   anger, suspicion,   excitement, withdrawal   and loneliness, but  what  separates the normal  from a  disorder is  the degree  to which   these feelings  become so  powerful that they  interfere with   the  child’s activities, causing him to suffer.

AUTISM  is  a disorder in  which  a   child   fails to develop  normal social relationship,   uses  language  abnormally or not  at all,   behaves  in compulsive and ritualistic  ways   and may fail to develop normal intelligence.      The cause of autism is    multifactorial  such as genetic   or chromosomal abnormality,  viral agents,   metabolic  disorders, immune intolerance, perinatal  anoxia or  drug intake by mother during  pregnancy.

Symptoms are evident   at the age of two  until three  years  old.   At  two years  old,  a child   should  demonstrate    interest in others, possess an ability to learn from the environment and communicate verbally. 

Jacque  is not     mentally retarded,   although  many   children  who have autism  have  both.   Those with   IQ of less than  50  often  also develop  seizures  before  reaching  adolescence.    

While   symptoms become apparent  at age two,  there  are   observable peculiarities that may    heighten   suspicion  for  autism:     peculiarities  in gaze,  hearing and play.  Children   with autism  shows  lack of interest  in   play  that   requires social interaction.   They may gaze  briefly  and out  of the corner of the eye,  and  since  they  do not respond   to sound  stimuli, they are  first suspected of being  deaf. While they   do not   respond  to loud  noises, they   may  react to certain sounds that  are     fascinating  or    distressing to them.

Jacque  does not  want to be  cuddled  and  avoids  eye  or  facial  expressions to    social  contacts.   The other day,   he   was  upset  for being  separated  from his  parents, but he  does not   turn to  his  parents     for  security  like  other  children   do.   At one time he had tantrums,  he stiffened  when  his   older sister  tried to  hug  him.  I told   her   she  should give  his favorite toy instead  and take him    to a  less stimulating environment in  order to   provide reassurance and comfort.  

Everyday,  I  help Jacque  establish  self-boundaries    by calling  him by name and correcting him  when he addresses himself in the third  person.     I maintain    consistency  by   providing  him  with  his security blanket (attachment  to  inanimate objects), same activities  and  avoiding  demands  that is out of  his  routine.   

Children  with autism   like  consistency and sameness.   Jacque  usually has tantrums,  giggles,  acts as deaf  and fears no danger. At times, he is insensitive to pain;   wants  blocks  not balls; points to anything   and is  resistant to normal teaching methods.

He  is   very  resistant  to    changes.   In fact,  he often repeats   certain acts  such as rocking, hand flapping  and spinning of objects.  At  one time,  he injured himself  by  banging his head and  biting himself.  Anti-psychotic    drugs  such as respiridone     is  given to reduce   self-injurous behavior,  but    there is  a risk  of    movement  disorder (as one of the side effects). 

I  always     encourage  physical contact   with him  although   I know his  tendency  is to push  away.  I tell him  stories  even if  he remains unresponsive.   I   ask  him to paint   and  help  him  learn new skills.  I read him poems because he responds    to rhyme in poetry due to sameness of sound.

About     70  percent of  children with  autism  have  some degree of mental retardation,   an IQ  less than  70.    Their  performance is uneven but they do   better  in motor   and  spatial skills .  Some  children    have    idiosyncratic  or  “splinter” skills  such  as the ability  to     perform   mental  arithmetic  and advanced musical skills.    Jacque has learned to  play  the piano beautifully  when he was  just  4 year old! 

Those  with lower  IQ, meantime, manifest   severe motor  clumsiness. Some  children  also   increase    withdrawal  by    refusing to eat.  Though  they do  not experience  delusions,  hallucinations  or illusions, they may, however,  develop  schizophrenia and  seizures.   

  As with other  children in the Center,    we observe Jacque closely  in the    playroom setting.  Childhood  Autism Rating scale   help  us in the evaluation.    Doctors  also try to   look  for underlying   treatable or  inherited   medical disorders  like   hereditary disorders of metabolism    or   fragile  X  syndrome,  a DNA  abnormality   that leads  to   mental  retardation (besides the famous   Down syndrome).

  For now,  we    subject him   to  behavioral   modification  techniques  and   psychotherapy  to help him  cope   up    with  his   social  difficulties.     Drug therapy   cannot  change the underlying   disorder    but   certain  selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors  (SSRIs)  like  fluoxetine,  paroxetine    and fluovoxamine   are often effective in   reducing   his  ritualistic  behavior.    

Autistic children   are  also given neuroleptics   to control  destructive behavior,   stimulants  (Ritalin)   to  stimulate responsiveness,    and lithium  for  convulsions. Time limits and  verbal reprimands are most often effective  rather than    punishing that may  worsen     self-aggressive    behavior.    When he does  something  worthy of praise,  I usually  give  him tangible  reward than verbal praise. I see  to it to intervene  before   his tantrum  outbursts.

Jacque  is    aware  only of himself so  he   is    engaged in self-stimulated acts and plays alone. But there  are instances, too, when   he advances to parallel  play. Older autistic children in the Center  also  are unable to form  close  personal relationship  and  cannot interpret  the moods   and expressions of others. 

About  50%   of    children  with  autism never learn to  speak.  Jacque though   has learned to speak but in   an unusual way  such as talking in the third  person  and speaking  with   unusual  rhythm   and pitch.   He  fails  to   differentiate  himself   from the  environment  so he  constantly repeats  what  I   say  and   he often  uses    “you”   when referring to    himself. He  finds it  difficult  to process   external stimuli and apparently  needs   help in  feeding, dressing and toileting.

Jacque  will    have  the symptoms  throughout  his life.    The prognosis  is  strongly influenced    by how  much usable   language he will acquire   by  age seven.    However,  those  with  IQ  of 50  would definitely  need full time institutional   care  as adults.

Just  before I left  the Center this morning,  I told him again that I love him.          I  handed him his   favorite  toy — his security blanket –  to reassure  him    of  that love…

even if he does not respond to it.

TO BE HALF-DEAD

                                                                           I loved a boy in my past.

He was 14 when he was hit by a car while trying to follow me home. We were walking as we always do across the park towards the end of the river. It was 6 o’ clock when I saw him trashed to the street as the vehicle screeched for a break.

It was not his fault. He was always careful. He was always mindful. It was just that afternoon that he did not think too seriously. It was just one afternoon that a group of college brats suddenly appeared from nowhere. They were car racing and that boy’s life stopped.

He has been dead for years. I have lost his smile, his laughter, his silly look. It’s been four long years since I heard him whisper secrets to me, since I heard him scream my name from the rooftop of our high school building. I’ve lost a beautiful part of me when I saw him filled with blood as he was pulled from the street and rushed to the hospital. I was there when he was hooked to a ventilator, when the doctors pushed some volts on his chest to revive him. Later did I realize it was called defibrillation.

It’s been years and I still love that boy.

He’s not dead dead though. His in comatose. Almost gone. I can still feel him, his warm face, his beating heart, his breath. I still talk to him; tell him stories about my escapades and my suitors; share him my dreams. I still wait for his advice on what to do with my life, on how to trust another guy. I still await to hear his voice whisper my name or just for him to look at me once again… or one more time.

The doctors could not assure if he will wake up. They could only say it is possible. They explained that recovery is likely if the cause is overdose of sedative; complete recovery is possible if the cause is low blood sugar that lasted for an hour. If it is head injury, substantial recovery may occur even if the coma lasts several weeks but not if it lasts more than three months. However, if the cause is cardiac arrest or oxygen deprivation, full recovery rarely occurs if after 1 week, the person is still unable to move his limbs.

They said that COMA is a state of unresponsiveness that a person cannot be aroused, even with vigorous repeated attempts. Under normal conditions, the brain can quickly adjust its own levels of activity and consciousness because deep within the brainstem are nerve cells and fibers controlling consciousness and arousal levels (the reticular activating system). The brain makes adjustments based on inputs from eyes, ears, skin and other sensory organs.

Impairment results when the nerve fibers connecting the brain and the sensory organ malfunction, when blood flow to the brain decreases or when toxic substances damage the brain. Levels of impaired consciousness can range from reduced alertness (obtundation) to stupor (hypersomia) and to coma (complete unresponsiveness). People in the deepest stages of coma need a ventilator because the brain cannot perform essential body functions, including maintenance of breathing.

Head injury directly damaged the area of his brainstem that controls consciousness levels. Antiarrythmic drugs (Adenosin or Nutaphake, Amiodarone HCL or Cordarone, Lidocaine and Phenytoin) are given to keep his heart beating normally. Although, the doctors explained that sometimes, bleeding in and around the brain (hemorrhage), hematoma (accumulation of blood), tumor or pus, can directly damage the area of the brainstem as they place pressure at the site.

My own research led me to understand that apart from vehicular accidents, neurologic (cardiac arrest, aneurysm, infection, severe lung disorder, seizures), toxicologic ( alcohol intoxication, drug overdose), and metabolic causes (hypothryroidism, liver encepalopathy, kidney failure, extremes in temperature, hypernatremia, hyponatremia, hyperglycemia and hypoglycemia) can also lead to stupor or coma.

Doctors look for signs of brain damage such as Cheyne-Stokes respiration (periodic breathing from rapid to slow to none for seconds); unusual postures such as DECEREBRATE rigidity (head titled back, arms and leg extended, hands flexed, arms pronated, extended and adducted, feet plantar flexed) and DECORTICATE rigidity (plantar flexion, lower extremity internal rotation, adduction and flexion of upper extremities. arms flexion). When there is widespread loss of activity in all parts of the CNS, however, there is usually a GENERAL LIMPNESS.

Through the years, I have tried to understand what he is into. A year from now, I will be in medical school because I have a lot of questions that need answers. I need to know the possibilities.

Yesterday, I talked to my uncle who is a physician and he explained to me something about Persistent vegetative state, wherein a person is awake but devoid of conscious content. It results after severe brain damage when the cerebrum (containing thought and behavior) is destroyed, but the thalamus and brainstem (controlling sleep cycles, body temperature, breathing and heart rate) are spared.

In this state, a person can still open his eyes, relatively have normal sleep and wake patterns, breathe and swallow spontaneously, and may even show a startled reaction to loud noises. However, he lacks all capacity for conscious thought and behavior and he would only manifest reflex responses like jerking and stiffening. If it persists for months, recovery is unlikely.

Some people, though, are in the locked-in state, a condition wherein they think, but are so severely paralyzed that can only respond by opening and closing their eyes. They are conscious and the brainstem is affected but not the cerebrum.

According to him, Brain death is the most severe form of unconsciousness because the brain has permanently lost the ability to perform all vital functions. The person is legally dead, while the heart continues to beat. A person is said to be brain dead if he is unresponsive to painful sensation, not reactive to light, unable to breathe without assistance. Pronouncement of brain death should be made only after medical problems are corrected and EEG is done to confirm absence of brain waves and Doppler ultrasonography to determine absence of blood flow to the brain.

I guess, there is a part of my life that will never be bridged.

Sometimes, I already want to give up. My life has been half-dead, too, the day he met an accident. I have no memories of him since the day they brought him to the hospital, except that he’s lying in deep sleep. He will always be a boy in my past because, in my mind, he never grew up to be a man. I have been trying to understand how a “dead” boy can be revived, how I can pull him from that sleep and show him a world outside his bed.

I will pursue neurosurgery after I finish medical school because I need answers that will help me cope, hope or finally let go. I have my life, too, you see. I was not hit by a car 5 years ago, but that same day I became half-dead as he is right now because I loved him. Something in me also died that day. And just as I have been trying to wake him up, I must also revive myself.

But he hasn’t waken up. And I couldn’t reach to where he is. We have grown up and through the years, I’ve kept myself near him. This boy in my past doesn’t know me anymore.

And he does not love me, of course.
How could he?
HE NOW EXISTS SOMEWHERE I COULD NEVER BE.

DATE  WRITTEN: JAN 20, 2008

"GOGGLING FAITH"

PRAYER IS POWER

Some people come to “stretch” us. Some events happen to pound us. Like a metal we stretch with the pounding. Then we get into the fire to melt and mellow,  only to bear the pounding again. Sometimes life cools down. Only to repeat the whole cycle. Only for us  to be made into the fine form we are meant to become. Here  is a prayer we can all share.

Dear God,

…don’t make me feel so bad that I should hate my life. Don’t stretch me so much,  I might grow weary and turn into a thin weak sheet. Don’t pound me too long, I might break already. Don’t immerse me to too much fire,  I might realize the dark element in me and burn in anger. Don’t make me wait too long,  I might grow restless and ungrateful. Don’t make me dream too far,  I might wander off and get lost. And please, do not dishearten me with too many of life’s complexities, I might rebel.

Please do not take me so high, I might forget the solid ground and choke with air. Don’t give me too much success, I might burst with unnecessary pride. Guard my emotions so I will not expect too much,  nor  feel so un-favored and brokenly unable to mend. Save me from my own harsh criticism, that I may see my own beautiful reflection. Spare me from too much pain,  that I might become bitter and forget that I am just as special as the others. Teach me to refine my values, and never surrender my self-respect just to compromise.  Help me bend when I need to bend. Straighten  me whenever I feel low and small.Strengthen my will and rekindle my faith, that I may reach out to the heavens when it is hardest to pray.                                                                  

Guide me in loving and teach me to love back. Help me keep my emotions on  the right track and clarify my visions, that I may walk the path I always desire to tread. The good path. The better path. The only path I know  could get to You. So grant me, I pray, a hand that helps, a heart that loves, a mind that envisions, and a chance to do what I am supposed to do.

Forgive me when I wane in faith, when the fire in me loses its valiant sparks, when I become disturbed  and annoyed by the threats and hurdles that keep on growing.  Comfort me when I dream too much and get frustrated and unworthy. Allow  me to accomplish whatever good that is in my heart so I can have that inner peace of doing  something beyond  myself. And please tell the world not to dampen spirits of people like me  who go  after their dreams. Guide me out of the tunnel of self-doom and rescue me when I lose hope. And teach my heart to persevere even when the world turns unfriendly and disappointing.

Forgive me for the darkness in my soul, for my cynicism, for my stubbornness and even for my skepticism. Forgive me for my wanderings that take me off the road. Protect me from my fears, from getting drowned in self-pity and even in too much hope in something that’s too far off. Forgive me for my  insecurities and incapacities. And talk to me please because I need you. I need you because I love you. And I love you because that‘s what I’m here for.

Make me brave when I am afraid, when I get frustrated,  rejected or isolated. Help me to be kind even when my own pains teach me to be selfish and bitter. Encourage me to fight fairly knowing that You will also fight for me when the world beats me unjustly. Teach make to stand up for myself when I am battered and injured. And heal me of my wounded scars and enliven my spirit to continue forward even when the climb is steep or the road is wearing me off. Help me when I am helpless, heal me when I am beaten, inspire me to do good. Intervene in my life events that I may not feel abandoned and unloved. And love me please sometimes in the way I could also  recognize it. Your ways are mysterious God  but help me connect.

Please don’t hide too long or let me wander too far, I might get tired looking. Allow me the chance to live my dreams and “get there” so that every pain or sorrow or hardship or disappointment could make sense to me. Allow me to find my own footprints that I may be happy. Help me find my own “place” that I may feel complete. Dearest God, help me push my boundaries that I may strive to always become better. Surround me with people who will make a better person out of me. And inspire me to pray and please  teach me how, that I may always reach out to you… be it in joy or in despair.        

"COMMUTERS"

DATE  WRITTEN: jUly 17, 2008

PEBBLED GLASS

July 15, 2009

She placed another pebble in the crystal bowl. It’s almost halfway full. Someday she’s going to place a small plant in it to thrive. It will be an elegant centerpiece on top of a polished wooden brown table. And she would serve guests with tea on a white porcelain glass and they would come around the table for a chat.  They will giggle and share about the men that woed them and those that broke their hearts. They will toast to single independent women that they are.   Some will toast for a happy married life.  Some of them will complement how great the tea is done; others will notice how beautiful the glass centerpiece is.  But everyone would think of it as just a work of art that serves to please the aesthetic sense. And only she would know the story behind those growing pebbles in that delicate crystal.

She would smile   for that secret. And just as the plant that awaits  to find its rightful place  with those pebbles one day, she too awaits for something special. She waits   for someone to tell her their love is possible. That it could thrive. Until the day he breaks the thin silence that separates them from being together,   only  those polished stones shall hear her affection in a faint whisper. Every time she wants to tell him she loves him, she would drop a pebble in that bowl. That growing pebbled bowl is her own growing affection. “One of these days,” she would say “he’ll take my hand and tell me something that we’ve not been brave to admit.” And they will not simply look at each other with more than just an interesting glance. And when they are finally together, only those polished stones would bear witness of that love she had for so long kept. They would remind her of that beautiful secret. She would smile and no one would understand how truly beautiful that pebbled centerpiece they are looking at. Not even he, who caught her heart in a glimpse.

"Goodbye"

It’s a word  that capsulates  my grief

Over a lost love that ironically

I haven’t  yet found

In him whose affection

Never reached its depth.

Goodbye is a word that seals 

A love story that never fully bloomed:

Ended before it even completely

Unravelled itself.

Goodbye is an act of  spreading

My wings away from the

Pitfalls of untested love;

My protest against a passive affection

He claims to be true.

Goodbye is a silenced “I love you”

That never will be told

For my heart decides to mute itself

Because it cannot make an unworthy sacrifice.

WHEN SHOULD WE FORGIVE?

This is  a tough question.  In fact,  more difficult to figure out than  the  act of  forgiving. When  do we really   forgive the most important  person  we sometimes  have wronged and we often  overlook to appease? Ourselves. When should we start mending  to finally hit the road  to self-redemption.  You. When  should  you forgive yourself of your own brokenness?

 I say Today.  Today  piece  your life. String memories together, glue the broken realms of  your childhood, appreciate your youth  with all its thrills and foolishness, with all its idealism and cynicism, too. Today,  strip yourself of old wounds and the scars  that led you to be what you are today: Hurt, Learned, Purged, Joyed and Forgiven.  Today, forgive your indiscretion, your unsolicited pride, your unrecognized follies. Forgive yourself for  demeaning your potentials, for looking  short than what you could possibly envision, for seeing less of yourself  whenever you get engrossed with the personal victories of  others,  for looking  at people’s shortcomings as failures on their part. You must  have been guilty of responding less to the present because  either you are distracted by some past or preoccupied  with some distant  future.  Forgive  yourself  then for your  fears which  sometimes  forbade you to bet  on yourself and  just take a wild  shot  at life.

This life has taught you  to dream, to fight for all its worth, to love beyond what you thought you are capable of, to hope in those dreams that one by one they  will come true.  At some point, life might have  taught you to  resurrect  after unexpected blows that brought you heartaches, to have faith in others as much as in yourself, to forgive even those with treacherous hearts, to believe  that you, just  like anybody else, deserve to love and be loved back.

Sure you do have regrets. You have made darn mistakes. Mistakes you probably  would not have   done if you knew better.  You  hurt  a couple of  people. You trusted  and  have been betrayed or taken advantaged perhaps. You  got angry at some.  You must have  erased indefinitely some people in your life and there’s no changing  your mind  about any of them. But you surely keep a constant few whose presence in your world teaches you that despite imperfections in relationships, they’re  worth having.

Certainly you have  dreams.. and have  accomplished most of what you’ve planned, I hope.  You have tried to enjoy life and get the best of everything that life  has thrown at you.   You get lonely, too.  After all,  you  are human. You get  vulnerable  even  when you seem tough.  Even bones break.  Even hard shells  crack.  Sometimes you  do  because you are not heartless and insensitive eventhough you have  sharp edges. They  validate that you  have feelings, that you  can  be hurt  and  torn. But   you try  to recover fast unlike other people who may be  wallowing in their miseries   while  you  already  found reasons  to be happy. I guess, it’s a gift on your part if that is so.  And you  forgive others easily, though  you  may  find it  difficult  to forget a hurtful act done,  a piercing word said,  a treachery committed. Maybe they linger  to remind you  only, no, not of the hurt you  felt or the anger you had  but for the important lesson of whom   to  trust, to care, to love and to pray for. After all, we cannot   do much   when   others  dump us,  hurt our pride  or degrade us, but we can  outlive those negativity by learning  from them.

By this time, you have   already learned  a great deal in this life and though   there are things  you  want  to change,  you will not  waste  your energy trying to create a perfect, more tolerable past.  You just want to do better TODAY and the years onward. Today,  you’d like to forgive yourself for things  you wanted to do  but  couldn’t or didn’t  do… for the things  you  still want   to accomplish  but  lack the  drive to go straight  toward them.. for plans you still have to go for but find  yourself  helpless to make happen.. for  some people you may have failed  to reach out to   so they could feel  appreciated and needed. In your own silence,  am  pretty sure, you   would like others  to  do the same favor  for you.

Today,  continue to piece your life  with renewed  enthusiasm and hope in the possibilities.  Your possibilities! You   will have doubts  but you  will  struggle to believe, right? You  will meet   setbacks that will drown  your courage  but  you  will  rise  beyond them, won’t you? You  will take pride in what you  have  accomplished in this lifetime. You will be lonely   but  you will appreciate   the rain-and-the-cloudy days of  your  youth just as much as you would enjoy the sunshine.  You  will be  hurt at times  but  you will heal. That’s  for certain.  You will be happier and content.  You will arrive on that day when you  may have   dreams  that did not happen but you  can actually  smile with  contentment;  when you have   some regrets  but you can live  with them;  when you can look at life  with more  maturity and wisdom than you do  now; when you can  just laugh  at   all the foolishness you  made  on yourself.  Most important  of all, when  you can  be just happy where you   are and what you  have  so far made of your life and the choices that were  given you.

So when   should   we  forgive then?  Today.  Right   at  the very moment  that   we  have  realized   that we have  gone too far  with our bitterness,  with our  self-absorbed  guilt,  with being lonely and depreciated.  We  should forgive  as soon as we are ready or  feel the need  to reconcile   with   our lost yet deserving  selves. Today, receive  the grace of forgiveness. We often   bury ourselves  in our failures and regrets  that we find it   difficult to  forgive  our   weaknesses,  shortcomings, incapacities and ignorance. But   we  are a mortal flesh less than  perfect.  And yet  we perfectly fit to the category  of  those worthy  to be forgiven for  who we are  and  who we cannot be.

WHY READ

Some of us love  reading  books; others just read  for  comfort or  for entertainment of the moment.  I, meantime, love reading  just as much as  writing. I  started  a month  ago  and  I   finished   5 already, most of them  were  English books. One was  of  Paulo Coelho (well, he has  a new  book   out  in the market  although  the one I  really  liked  costs P700 so  I  opted  for  the other one  which  was half  expensive, darn!) I  also got  a hand of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, which I really enjoyed! I would never lose  fascination   in poems written in Old  English. They are mind boggling and very artistic.

WHY READ?

… because it makes you  FLY. Peter Pan takes you by the  hand  and you soar.  You  circle  the  sky   with  tinkerbel and you begin to believe   in fairies. 

…because it makes  you  fight  with  valor  and honor and with your greatest strength  as you battle    side  by  side  with King Arthur and the Knights   of the  Round  Table,  or  with the vikings, or with the   warriors of Sparta.

…because  you   sail  with the nymphs  under the waters of Poseidon, the God of the Sea,   or  you   have the privilege   of  sharing  the  adventures   of Odysseus in his voyages.

… because as  you   turn the pages of  a book, you’ll hear   the  own  words  of Brutus talking  about  Caesar… or   eavesdrop  in the  sweet  call  of Romeo  to  Juliet as  he profess  his hidden  love…or be educated in the wisdom of  Confucius or Plato or Socrates and learn about  these great philosophers the world has ever known.

…because it makes  you  dine   with kings and  princesses… or the goddesses of  Egypt, and if you are lucky,  you  can eat  with  the  gods of the greeks and savor  their  ambrosia.

… because it makes you see the cruelty  of Hitler,  the oppression   of the poor and see rummages  of   war.  It  makes you  run in fear  just  like the casualties  in many great wars fought long before  you were born.

…in your books,  you’ll meet  angels and demons, of dwarfs and fairies, of spirits  and ghosts, of vampires and wolves. And perhaps  you’ll meet centaurs  and unicorns, magic and spells.

.. because  it  makes you read the  thoughts   of Anne Frank in her diary or of Mother Theresa pleading  not to  take  the life out of  the innocent unborn.

… because as you  browse  through the pages of your favorite novel or  book that interests  you,  you’ll  see your  own self  reflected in the many characters   of   the  stories that  you read. And  some  of your confusion  are shed with light, some fears   are  lightened and   some of your dreams take flight.

… You begin to flap your wings  and feel the  strong wind  as  you  soar   like the hawks and eagles; you begin to breathe  in water   like princess Ariel and the mermaids; you sleep for thousands of years under  a spell  like princess Aurora; you die with  so much  pain  seeing   Romeo lifeless by your side immortalized in the  novels of Shakespeare.

     You read because there is    so much  to life  that  is unravelled through books. There you meet the   characters created  by the mind of Christian Anderson like the Frog prince.  There  you  bathe in the Nile in Egypt like Cleopatra, you taste the juice of Ambrosia with Zeus and Hera, the gods of Olympus in Greek mythology.  There you meet Annabel Lee  of  Edgar Allan Poe and witness  their  eternal love. And there,  you might meet yourself reflected in their personalities.

     You  read because it  takes you to wild imaginings. You  climb  with  Jack on a Beanstalk; you ride  and fight  with Don Quixote; you meet the ragpicker of Og Mandino who tries  to salvage lives of hopeless people and you’ll hear  Og say “You are God’s Greatest Miracle.” And  you see your life  change because of what they all have to say.

     Books  tell us a fragment of who  we are.  We see   our  ideals   in   some of the inspirational  works   of Paulo Coelho;  we understand life through the  words of the Prophet Kahlil Gibran. We  read  a part  of  our  lives   in some of the  stories   because great literary pieces  talk  about  universal  experiences  of love, hate, boredom,   hope or hate. Theytell you  of your own experience. Some of  which   you    read   comfort  you, inspire you,  educate  you  and  entertain  you.  They    sometimes  move  you to tears   or   exhilirate  your  feelings or give  you   some inspired thoughts.  You dream with the authors,  you  travel  with them and  they allow you to join them in their   wonderful  journeys.

ON LOVING

I am not an authority to define exactly what love is and the dynamics involved in loving. Who is, anyway? We all are just trying to find the most universal and acceptable statement on this so-called L-0-V-E. Some manipulate words to capsualize their ideas on love even to the extent of justifying their little “misdeeds.” Some are driven helpless by love, others, however, are enabled. They say that most people in love loose their contact with rationality, allowing themselves to be swept away by the strong current of emotion wherein some things become uncontrollable. Perhaps so. It happens to many people anyway. They give up the things they value or compromise their values because they have “fallen.”

I guess, I will never find the true value of love in the philosophies of others for each one lives and loves according to how he views the world and the issues around it. And realistically, I will only be dealing with my own viewpoint through which my actions are driven. Yet I realize that I cannot simply look at love in the context of shared physical intimacy where the oneness of two people are concretized even before the sanctity of marriage. Sex, I agree, is a wonderful thing and is an apt ocassion to “loose” oneself. Oneness finds its truest expression in love-making that brings forth a miracle of life, but as for me alone, I still desire that it be viewed in the proper context. “Proper” though would encourage arguments, but I guess, am understood but what I exactly mean by it, without elaborating.

Boy and girl relationships are either given life or turned sour because partners cross the bounderies of marriage before the actuality of the sacred “oneness” of two souls before God. Some do not believe in marriage, others do not believe in God. But for those who have faith in both, the question is how much will they value that faith. I, for one, am accountable to my life’s hapennings according to the values I allow to operate in me. While there are relationships which have prospered even because of that shared intimacy, it never gave a guarantee for a life-long commitment, and most often, ended in aching hearts and injured pride.

 I respect other’s perspectives on loving “much.” Yet, I believe that loving, though we lose something valuable in us, should also earn something for us and never erode the love for self. When looking for a partner or deciding to stay with our significant other, we may perhaps want to consider in a relationship the element of growth. If our partner enables us to grow in our respect for life, love for self and a deeper appreciation of who we can still become, confidence in each other’s potentials, and faith in the same God, that partner is worth it all.

This is my personal commitment to love: a driving force that enables me and may significant other to become “larger” than who we were before we found each other. I am a hunter for I seek this elusive thing; am a poet for I craft my own meanings of what     L-O-V-E is, based on my understanding; I am a carpenter because I try to build ideas about it, hoping to house my thoughts on love into something concrete. I am simply a human being wanting to have my own understanding of this phenomenon — and a miracle — that will surely touch our lives, one time or another. It is not, however, necessary to define or fully understand love.

When we love people, we have ourselves to give away, but ourselves not to forget. I think that is just fair because how can we best love when we have neglected our very being from which we draw out our resources. How can we love without ourselves and look only to our object of affection. I think in loving people, for which I do not expect others to adopt my concept of love, we are not asked to fully concentrate our energies in making the other person happy, but also in making ourselves happy in knowing that we are our best selves ready to be shared.

 It appears to me that when we less value ourselves as an individual, we give less to the person we love. In loving our partner, for instance, we should look at him as someone who could build up our strength, reinforce our self-worth; someone who would function as a support system when we feel like tumbling down; who would encourage us to value ourselves; and who would make us feel wanted. Vice-versa. Our significant other should be someone who is complementary to our dreams and needs; someone who would not want us to forget ourselves and demand to be always understood and loved for who they are. I ponder, if someone truly loves, he would want to be the best of himself thinking that that is what his partner deserves. He should be someone who would not want by his will, to hurt the most — regardless of his shortcomings as a person. Loving comes out of respect for the the object of our affection and that no matter how difficult the times are and how great the tendency to harm is, we would strive to give the person we love the benefit of fidelity and loyalty. There are NO BUTS. No alibis and justifications.

Some people have lived up to it even though there are just a few that I know of. The point is, it still happens and it can be done. When we love, we become our best selves, something that occurs without much effort because that is what love is headed: positive. To love means to have ourselves made better because no matter how many other people look at it in the other way, I suppose the benefit of being loved and loving in return is POSITIVE. Anything that comes otherwise is not the essence of love. For love is a positive energy that “happens” to make us better and happier in the longer term. However, sometimes, when we are hurting or are afraid of losses, we fail to see the benefit of letting go’s.

Sometimes, as we are so in love, we miss out the “larger picture” why relationships should end. Loving, as a positive force, does not mean the absence of pain or sorrow. On the other hand, it means that through pain and sorrow brought about by relationships we should be able to strenghten our character, sift through our essentials and cleanse ourselves of misconceptions. My point only is that out of miserable happenings, we are able to see more clearly the path we want to take, whether we want to pursue the journey with someone or set our partner free to find our own deservings. But love is not just the romantic feeling of being with an opposite sex. And we all know that! It is also the sacrificing act of a mother to her child, a person towards a stranger, a teacher to his profession.

Oftentimes, we limit our world by associating love merely to couples who are dreamy of a life together. Most of us are focused and curious of being in love in a romatic way. I must admit I am one of the romantics who regard it highly valuable. despite the hurtings of past mistakes and failure, I still believe that if we place love in the proper context, by which I mean “not too much not too little,” we won’t be so hurt.

Loving means togetherness, where couples spend time doing the things they agree to, being happy doing it and wasting the time for each other. It means sacrificing some important things in our lives, but not to the extent of losing ourselves in the process, where degeneration eats us up and we end up miserable and incomplete as a person after having been “loved off.”

 Love lets us rediscover ourselves in another. I see it as a guide that makes us realize our worth, not lose our worth. It leads us to many discoveries about who we are and how much we are capable of loving,fairly. While we love as much, we begin to see and build our self-worth especially because our partner leads us that way: to reconnect with who we are in the reflection of the significant other in our lives. This is a responsibility that we, in turn, are inspired to share at will… if we truly love.

One Mc Donald’s Afternoon

  I  ordered   the  latest  in Mc Donald’s today: the Kung Fu Panda Shake.  It does  taste good! I’ve always loved the fries, the float and now the nuggets. But am I writing  for the foods? No!

Not really for the foods  but for a hilarious experience of dining alone.  Sitting quietly, munching   the fries,   I began to be  curious of what people are probably thinking about me eating alone. Well that’s because  these two women  at my right  keep  glancing very often at my direction  and I thought they’re  probably  curious  why a  woman  in her  20’s has no one to  enjoy  the foods with. Ah, that’s where it all started!

First guess, am a LONER.    I prefer  being alone and am not good in social relations. My interpersonal relationships are shaky  as  I have difficulty  dealing  with people. I probably  sweat   a lot    conversing with others that my throat  suddenly becomes stiff whenever  am   with somebody  so I prefer  the solitary life. At this point, they probably   are joking   to each other  that the fries  I just ate   are clogged  somewhere  in my throat! (hahaha) Much to my dismay, they   might be thinking  that  am a good  candidate for    schizotypal  personality or  schizoid which is a pre-morbid state  for  schizophrenia.

Then   I  laugh out  secretly  upon that thought  because  if  I blurt  out in   loud laughter,  I would  be confirming that am an idiot, losing contact with reality and finally   snapping  out. Silly!  What else    could they be thinking. Let’s see.

1. That  I  just  broke up  with   my long-term partner  and  am  forced    to  eat alone  as   am  experiencing  withdrawal and plan to isolate  myself   for as long as  my  heart feels  sorry.  Am in the  pathethic mood, trying to sort things out — why  it all went wrong  — so in desperation, I treat myself out for a satiating  snack  to compensate for my loss (some people   eat a lot you know, when they are under stress or depressed!). Again, they may have thought that   I  do not  have anyone   to  comfort me because   friends  might  be at work  at the moment and my  “superhero” had gone somewhere  else  “rescuing”  another damsel  in distress. And so am left alone in this pitiful  condition.  (Arrrggghhh!)

2.  On second liberating thought,  I probably   have my  special someone although  he’s too far away  to   dine  with me at the time I wanted to stroll at the mall!   Maybe  he’s  in his office tied to his work  and   feeling  guilty for not    being able to  be with me  or    pehaps he’s abroad  trying to  earn   extra cash    so   he could finally   save for  our grand wedding sometime in the future. And  all he could  do is    call me up  to  say  how am I doing. (Well,that’s a possibility and a better option than the first, ayt?!)

The  people   around  might  have  wondered (in  a split second) why while the   two couples   on my left  are  dining  heartily  and  the two ladies  on my  right  have now  become   obviously curious, I am in the middle, “sandwiched,” and eating   alone. So I tried to come up  with more  reasons they probably  jave come up with.

3.  That am a newbie  here, being  an adventurous traveller, unafraid  of  being   in a crowd of stangers, exploring   the unseen places in the country.  So am sort of a back-packer, free-spirited  young  woman  who  jumps into  a  bus or plane or boat and  lives an  extraordinary life “exploring.”  With great admiration and envy,  the “curious people”  perhaps   have thought that am a  woman   who can travel to places  accompanied or unaccompanied  because  I do not allow plans to be delayed or posposned just because friends  who previously promised to tag along   suddenly  cancel the appointment. Then at the  end of the  day, I’ll  sleep in a  cozy  hotel ( with  a jacuzzi or   a plain bathtub) to spend the night with or  buy a ticket to  someplace for another adventure. (Wow,  what a nice way  to look  at it, huh!)

4.  As  I continue to  enjoy my  coke float,  I thought  someone   in the  crowd   who’s saner  than these two “gossipy” ladies on my  right may have thought  that  am am a perfectly sane person, with good  social contacts, enjoying  the gift  of  nurtured relationships. And this particular moment  that am into,  is my time  for   myself. Let’s call it  a “time-out”  from the social life   to reconnect  with  one’s self. It’s where  I  test   my   confidence of doing things without depending   on  a companion. It’s MY TIME. My time  in which I can teach myself to be comfortable  without having the “security blanket.”  It’s easier to  feel okay when  you  have your friends  to laugh with or tell stories  with over a cup of  coffee or a bunch of fries, but some people  feel   so unease  being left alone. If    you are  a  confident peson, I believe, you  don’t mind being alone sometimes  and you  dont  get  uncomfortable   when  people  look at  you  with obvious curiousity.

4.  (Now  this  is really shameful but  it’s  possible that  the  two  ladies  AGAIN on my right  might  have  thought!)   That am supposed  to have a date  but was  stood up! (hahaha!)   The  guy  did not show up! And after  seeing  me  from afar suddenly didn’t get the nerves to approach me.  So there  I was,   dining alone   feeling pathetic. (Ouch!)

5.  That  am probably  just a writer  trying to ease out   from my  little  nook, breathing some air, having  a break because I just had a “writer’s  blackout.”  So  I went out  to  find  some interesting    ideas, unwind myself a bit then after a good afternoon  snack,   ready to plunge   again with  new things  to write!

6.  Now here’s another  silly idea  that could be true  but   hope not:  That  am going  crazy and suspicious as I try peeking into people’s thoughts   when in fact they are unmindful of me!  Yup,  that  the  people  around  are  not   curious at all  and they are    just   having their  usual talks  while  I  attach   a lot of   meanings to  their gestures.  (hahaha, talk about paranoia.)

But as I was almost   finished,  a  guy stood  in front  of me  with  his Kung Fu Panda  combo meal  on a tray and there   he was looking  for available  table but none was in  sight.  Tall and fair, he looked  stunning.  He  was wearing  light orange  polo shirt,   faded  pants and slippers.  He  was  neat and handsome eventhough  he was  only  wearing slippers. Talk about  simplicity combined with  elegance.  Ah, a perfect picture indeed!

So  looking   at my almost gone   fries and nuggets, he   said:

“Is it okay  if i join you?”

“Yeah sure, am almost  done.”

“Thanks, ako lang naman.”

“No problem,” I replied.

So we dined and  I felt triumphant   because   the  two gossipy girls on my  right  are dying  with envy  since  I got to dine with a very good looking man.  Now its my  time to  imagine  that  the  spaghetti  that  they ate  are probably   stucked  somewhere  in their  throat as they grow “GREEN-EYED” for   my  unexpected luck!

I sipped my last  coke float, smiled  at the guy  who also came to Mc Donald’s  to dine alone and  told him I must go.  He  smiled  back and said goodbye.

Now I feel relieved  because  while I sometimesdine alone , others also do.  And its  perfectly normal!  And what do you know,  sometimes you’ll just get unexpected treat  of dining   with a “loner” who’s perfectlyhandsome. Now that’s the desert!

26 Jan 2008 (INSIDE MY BRAIN)

It’s a Saturday and I am relaxing in a lovely beach somewhere in what they call Pasacao, the beach capital of Camarines Sur. I am enjoying a privilege card given to me by my Professor who invited me to visit Surfer’s Paradise owned by her sister. The sun is high, but the wind is cool and the waves are playful. The foods are inviting and my diet, which I call HUNGER STRIKE, is temporarily cancelled. Who could resist seafoods against the backdrop of tempting ocean and the smell of sea breeze. I have been boy watching, duh, and girl watching… errr!

I’m on my two piece and a pair of classy sunglasses. I’m on my flip flops and dangling earings, bangles and a white flaring cap. Some young couples just walked by; some children are busy building toy houses on sand. At my left are teeners playing volleyball. Close to me is a handsome guy, holding my hand (all right all right, I just added him to the picture! His invisible. I mean, non-existent, haha!) What a nice way to treat myself on a hot weekend. This is what I call pleasure!

But duh, I’m here! In front of the desktop, merely imagining that scene over and over! I wish I were there savoring the ocean breeze, munching the seafoods being served and sipping a cool penacolada. This is what’s nice in being a writer, if you cannot go to the place you want to be, you can bring the whole place to where you are! So I am bringing that paradise in my head and into this piece of what do you call this? – ahh, “LITERARY- TRASH-AND-TREASURE.”

I am on my writing mode right now. But I’m not going to imagine more things for a while. As I have decided, I will use my passion in writing in trying to understand something about medicine. So I am bringing my passion in writing into some good use but this time, not about literature but about matter-of-fact issues. In this way, I study and have fun at the same time because writing is already an appendage to me. It’s in my lifeblood! The only way to learn fast is to put what I know into my MEDICAL JOURNAL.

Since I started with imagination, I’d like to discover something about how the brain works and how we create images or retrieve memories. In short, I’d like to know the power of the mind – the PSYCHE and its pathways.

I came across a very interesting topic on neuroanatomy and behavior just now. It said that CEREBRUM is the most superior part of the brain, composed of two hemispheres, the RIGHT and LEFT, each divided into FOUR LOBES. I always get confused with which lobe is responsible for what particular function. I hope that I’ll get this right this time.

The FRONTAL lobe controls higher order THINKING, abstract reasoning, decision-making, speech and voluntary muscle movements. So when I decide, logically think, abstract and talk, I am actually triggering my frontal lobe. If something bad happens to this lobe, illogical and psychotic thinking will ensue, uninhibited behavior will manifest and speech will be incoherent.

Meanwhile, the TEMPORAL lobe is responsible for judgment, MEMORY, smell, sensory interpretation and understanding sound. So when I recall something or make a judgment, hear or smell (like the smell of delightful camaroon rebosado, spicy squid or hear the waves splashing on rocks), I have activated my temporal lobe. Any problem with this area will pave the way for aggressive and violent behaviors, olfactory and auditory hallucinations, as well as LANGUAGE abnormalities. (Tragic, isn’t it?)

The PARIETAL lobe controls SENSORY functions and body POSITION. So whenever I “sense,” feel pain, pleasure or temperature or whenever I am aware of my positions or where I am, my parietal lobe is at work! When I see a ball coming right at me from the teen players of volleyball at the beach where I just imagined, I would respond to evade it! Otherwise, I would be in terrible pain of being hit. The awareness of space and the ball coming right at me is the function of my parietal lobe. Impaired spatial ability and body image and the inability for self care are some of the problems associated with a defect in this area.

Meantime, visual function, the ability to SEE, is the work of my OCCIPITAL lobe. Visual Illusions and hallucinations indicate impairment in this part of the brain.

Now, embedded in the cerebrum is what we call DIENCEPHALON. It’s actually superior to the brainstem and consists of three structures: THALAMUS, HYPOTHALAMUS and LIMBIC SYSTEM.

What receives and relays sensory input (related to the parietal function) and processes memory (related to temporal function), as well as regulates mood is what we call THALAMUS.

Known as the control center of the body, the HYPOTHALAMUS is responsible for homeostasis. It regulates the Autonomic Nervous System, temperature, food intake, water balance, biological rhythms and drives (and the more familiar term, BIOLOGICAL CLOCK) and hormonal output of the anterior pituitary gland.

Meantime, known as the EMOTIONAL BRAIN, the LIMBIC SYSTEM regulates emotional responses. It consists of the LIMBIC LOBE and frontal cortex, hypothalamus, amygdala, hippocampus, brainstem (the respiratory center) and ANS. So it is the limbic system which is actually responsible for my emotions!

It is such a wonder how the brain works and it will always remain a mystery to me how such a tiny part can regulate all kinds of responses. The brain is one thing but the mind is another. How stimuli are perceived, relayed, interpreted and eventually how responses are generated and effected are interestingly complicated! Any defect in the structure of the brain due to trauma, lesion or congenital anomalies, hormonal imbalance. or any deficiency in the neurotransmitters responsible for regulating mood, transmitting impulses or initiating an action potential automatically lead to pathological conditions (abnormal functioning).

Well, I think I’ve had enough of this brainwork for today so I’m up for another stretching at the beach. Zaaaaappp! There goes the people enjoying the waves as they plunge into the water; the kids continue with their architectural designs made of sands. Meantime, let me put my towel on the white sand and let me lie under the sun for a summer tan. I really hate to cut this conversation but you see, I’ve just spotted a charming beach guard coming towards my direction!

22 Jan 2008 (BEAUTY QUEEN)

She walks the aisle like a beauty queen. She waves her hand with grace. Well, she is a title holder after all. In fact, she has not lost the glow on her face. She stands erect as all beauty queens do; she holds her chin high and answers questions without a trace of doubt.

Then she loses all charm and composure when she starts screaming like a leaf tossed brutally by the wind. She loses grip of reality and an upsurge of emotions overwhelm her once calm soul.

She was brought to the female psychiatric ward the other day. Her mom hasn’t slept for days because she thinks that her only daughter is so vulnerable in that place – a place where everyone has her own world, her own miseries and fantasies, her own hidden, untold grief.

Her name is Marianne Rodriguez, 22, a beauty queen. She’s beauty, brain and grace in one. In the latest pageant that she joined, she was hailed Miss Philippines International; now she’s tagged as CRAZY.

 Her inmates giggle when she starts screaming like a child in pain. She’s hailed as the prettiest psychiatric patient in the ward but this time, she’s in a different contest: a race back to reality.

Severe depression overwhelmed her ego, a part of the personality which interacts with reality and balances the Id and the Superego. When the pressure is too strong or the trauma so severe, a person simply snaps!        She did. Who could blame her? She was raped three weeks ago.

Unconsciously, she made a psychic escape from a reality that was too much to handle that she begins to dissociate herself from an experience too traumatic for her to integrate with her conscious self. Her memory, identity and consciousness disintegrated and slipped into a world detached from what she used to know. Her diagnosis: PSYCHOGENIC AMNESIA.

Her family was told that disassociative amnesia is a sudden inability to recall important personal information that is too extensive to be explained by ordinary forgetfulness and is not associated with organic disorder such as brain injury. The doctor said that sometimes, memories will suddenly and dramatically flood her. Every time that happens, she begins to cry out loud. Some patients, though, never break through the barriers to reconstruct their missing past.

 Her family, with the institution, has been providing her with a supportive environment that establishes safety and emotional security. Her mom and dad want her fast recovery but they were advised to stimulate memory loss gradually because the upsurge of memories could be very upsetting for her. Marianne is said to have excessively used the defense mechanism repression because her conscious self could no longer handle anxiety associated with the conflict. Any woman who is forced to live with a bitter experience she did not want to participate into, ganged, raped or battered severely, can snap and break. No one wants to be placed in a situation where one is intimidated, threatened and forced.

   Rape is a violent sexual act that violates a woman’s freewill. Fresh from a party in Ayala, Manuel dragged her into the car. She struggled but he gave her a punch that made her unconscious. When she awoke, she was already in a small house in Cavite where she could scream but no could hear her plea. There, he forced himself into her repeatedly and she struggled against his strength. She was forced to become weak, helpless and submissive, the exact qualities the offender despises in himself.

Manuel’s motive was apparently of conquest and power, and Marianne was tied-up, verbally threatened, intimidated with a weapon to subdue her and eventually submit to his sexual demands to gratify his sense of power, security, mastery and control. For Manuel, it was an exciting adventure as he saw it as a test of his manhood.

After two days, he left her, beaten, bruised and scarred. He made an anonymous call to the police, who searched the place and returned her home. Marianne’s life changed and she lost herself. She had not slept nor talked for days. She retreated to a world that was tolerable, a world devoid of that tragic incident that rerouted her life.  She was  in a road she doesn’t know how to find her way back.

Marianne’s case is a rape by acquaintance (rapist known to her). Some rape happens as statutory (rape of a minor with consent) and incest (rape of child by relatives). Their legal aid said that it was a confidence rape as she had prior interaction with the offender, Manuel. The assault was a kind of power rape: a rape committed by a person with low self-esteem and with feelings of inadequacy and a history of poor interpersonal relationship. Manuel is one of her suitors, recently rejected. Obviously, the act was precipitated by the incident of rejection that offended his feelings of inadequacy and insecurity. He might have committed it to prove his manhood, virility and competence.

Some offenders, though, engage in the act for sexual gratification: anger rape. In anger rape, they vent their anger and hostility, their hatred and contempt against a victim who represents those women who wronged him at some point of their lives. They are fraught with conflict, irritation and irrational jealousy to the point that they become physically assaultive. In the process though they are not aroused; they simply want to channel their anger towards another that in the end could lead to homicide.

Meantime, some offenders commit the act because of the need to inflict pain and torment: Sadistic rape. Often ritualistic, aggression becomes a sexual expression and a source of sexual gratification. Breasts, genitals and buttocks become the focus of injury and the offenders become intensely excited and pleased in the victims torment, anguish, distress and suffering which are interpreted as sexual excitation rather than a refusal.

Impulsive or opportunistic rape, on the other hand, is said to occur in conjunction with other antisocial acts such during a robbery and usually is not premeditated.

With Marianne, the rape occurred with someone that she knows but in some occasions, the offender has no prior interaction with the victim: blitz rape; or that the offender assaults a woman he is somewhat acquainted to: marked victim rape. In some instances, a retardate or minor is raped: accessory to sex rape, while some women are raped during their date: date rape.

Any rape experience imposes a traumatic history. Marianne dissociated from her herself in response to that experience and she has been experiencing rape trauma syndrome. At first, she was DISORGANIZED. She felt angry, guilty, embarrassed, humiliated and dirty. She had been into denial, shock, disbelief and she was constantly afraid. She complained of having multiple physical and somatic problems and wished for revenge.

 Several days or a week after, she transitioned to what is termed as REORGANIZATION phase wherein she struggles to adapt – the WHY ME? phase. She attributed blame to others, justified her actions and tried to regain a sense of control and self-protection.

For days she has had recurrent dreams and nightmares, irrational fears, such as being indoors or outdoors, being in a crowd, being left alone, and engaging in sexual activity. Her grief apparently resolved slowly. She tried to review and analyze what happened then she snapped. She broke loose. The pain was too much to bear, and the frustration was overwhelming that she regressed.

The only way to win a ticket back to reality is to lose that crown of anger, bitterness, disappointment, pain and hopelessness. She has to make them all disappear and get her back into shape by making a transition. She needs to make a transition to recovery.

She needs to piece herself together, mend her brokenness, regain her self-respect and go beyond her pain and her loss. She needs to pull herself out from that debilitating and traumatic experience and learn to be at peace with herself. She must reeducate her heart to trust the world again and re-learn to see her worth.

This time, she’s not in a competition for a title; she’s into a fight to break the chain of confusion and guilt and anger that the experience forced on her. She needs to fight for her future — a future that awaits anyone who is raped, molested or assaulted .. anyone who is robbed of something: the self-preserved dignity. Because amidst the tragedy, there is a future to look forward to.

 For now, however, she will struggle; she will cry in pain like a leaf tossed aimlessly. She remains the QUEEN OF THE WARD and definitely, IT IS NOT A CONTEST SHE WANTED TO BE IN.

COLLECTION

10 28 2008

Place the  sunbeams in  my  pocket

Pick   the corals in the deep

Wrap  a  box of smiles for me

And seal  some rainbows in  a jar.

Catch  some lightning;

Squeeze them in a can.

Bring  a barrel of  sleepy stars

And place the moon in a bucket.

Deliver   stardusts  on my doorsteps

Push  the sea breeze through my window;

whisper  a sonnet  in the wind

To lull me through the night.

Race  with time  to  steal  me  from tomorrow

Live and dream with  me TO-DAY.

Then gently hold  my hand  and

keep me steady.

But  put  love in your caress

Add passion  in  your  voice

Then I’ll know your love  is true

And I’d  need  none of these collections.

I  shall not need  a bed of clouds

Nor   the  sunbeams to  warm my days.

I shall  blow the  stardusts  to join the silent wind

While I  free the stars  and moon

To  sparkle from afar.

I shall unwrap the box of smiles

Unplug the  jar of  rainbows;

Throw  lightning  back to the heavens

And let corals sink where they once were.

Let the sonnet   fade in silence  with the  wind

In exchange of your heart close by.

For   the impossible

If done without love

is  like a body  without its soul.

But love that’s true  pulls all possibilities.