Losing the Passion?

Reading might be one of the most cliched things to write on “What is your hobby?”. I mean, that’s what a lot of people would right in order to look more intelligent than they actually are. Writing, though, is something that you don’t see a lot as answer to that question. What kind of writing? Scribbling? News Writing? The Onion-style writing? People can get confuse and be like, “So… like calligraphy?” and you’re stuck shaking and scratching your head.

Growing up, I’ve always loved reading. Stories, poems, ads… you name it, I would read it. I was always scolded for reading while walking because apparently that messes up with your sight or reading in the dark. I don’t actually remember when I learned how to read. All I know was that I used to stand beside my grandma while she teaches her students how to read then I started helping her teach them how to read. Reading has given me a good way to exercise my imagination as well as broaden my vocabulary. I’ve always aced spelling exams as I knew a lot of words that were probably seen as way beyond my age. My family and friends have always encourage me to read more. My dad and his siblings had lots of books and comics collections which I was free to use (as long as I take care of them). My grandma gave me a list called “Basic Sight Words” which I had to read everyday to enhance my vocabulary.

As I grew older, reading still made me happy and then I found about writing. Or more specifically, journalism. I was in Grade 5 when I was invited to train to be part of the journalism team of my school. I enjoyed it a lot and could see myself doing this for a long time. I didn’t end up being part of the team of that year because my teacher legit sabotaged me (but I’m over it… I guess). The next year, I was chosen to be trained again to be part of the journalism team. This time, I made it. I was preparing to be a feature writer but ended up as the editorial writer.

Every time we would have some writing practices during the training, I was always told that my features were more editorial. I would always have some piece of my opinion injected onto them instead of featuring the topic. In the end, I was chosen as part of the school paper. On the paper, I was credited as a feature writer but I was the one who wrote the editorial. The editor-in-chief was the one who wrote the feature. After the weeklong initial training, we stayed later in the school to start preparing for the city-wide journalism competition. We were competing with most of the schools in the country. I didn’t win and that broke my heart. I took me back to when I was little and also failed to win at a reading contest. Two of my biggest passions and I failed at being the top bitch. Anyways, most of my teammates won the top prizes and our school won the over-all top prize for journalism in English (there was another one for Filipino).

When I entered high school, I was motivated to be part of the school paper. I applied and submitted some of my writings, old and new, to them. I’ve never heard from them that year and when the school paper came out, it was obvious that I didn’t make it. The next year, I applied again. But this time, I was less naive and more aware. I knew the type of people that they’ve accepted and I wasn’t part of that cut. However, I still applied half-knowing that I wouldn’t get into the club anyways. I told myself at that time that if I don’t get in, I would stop trying. I did not get in and I stopped trying.

That same year, I won the Tanaga poster making competition. I’ve beaten the writers from that club and I’ve never been happier. It was an unexpected win as I thought that I wouldn’t have a chance with it because I didn’t make up my mind on what to write until the last 20 minutes of my time. I walked up to my stage and picked up my medal.

A year later, a competition was sponsored by the alumni of our school. It was a writing competition and only the honors and semi-honors students were invited to join. Everyone else were cut off from joining and we had no idea that this existed until the winner was announced on a Monday morning. My friends and I looked at each other, aghast at this inequality. Up there is a guy reading his winning piece while majority of the school body had no idea about this competition. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who felt betrayed and annoyed. Then, another competition sponsored by the same people was announced and this time, it was for everybody. My friends and I decided to join the preliminary part. About a week later, we were called to the Principal’s office to be personally congratulated as we were able to move on to the second and final round of the competition.

On the final round, our Principal gave this long pep talk which I missed most of it as I was late. However, I got to catch the last bit of it. I can never forget his words that up until now I still think about whenever I write something, “Don’t write about what they want to read, write about what you want to say”. With those words in my mind, I wrote what I thought was the most controversial piece of that competition. The topic was ‘I Beliefve…’ and it took me forever to think of what to finish this with. I wish for a better future? I wish to be rich? Then I thought, for all these year, I’ve seen intelligent and talented people in general sections not being given their limelight because the spotlight is always given to the honors’ and semi-honors’ sections. So the essence of my piece was that I believe that the school should not have any sections named as Semi, honors and General Section. As I looked around the room, I see members of the school journalism team and I thought, yikes, with this piece and these trained people, will I get a chance to win?

I won. Second place. Super unexpected and I didn’t exactly know how to react. Here’s a piece that I wrote on behalf of my general section friends. Here’s a piece that I thought they would just put on the side because of how it can be seen as an attack towards treatment of students by the school. As I walked across the stage, in front of the very people who rejected me into the school paper in favour of their peers, I felt a surge of pride. I still had it. I can still write and that rekindled my passion for writing. I knew that this was one path that I would want to walk on and pursue. But my parents had other plans.

I was going to be a nurse, like my mom. I cried and begged them no, but it was nursing or no school. I had no money and was dependent on my parents so I conceded. I took nursing for two miserable years. I can see myself becoming a nurse but I can also see myself not being happy. As years goes by, writing didn’t become my priority anymore and I’ve been abandoning my blog, one of my last connections towards my journalism dream.

As I look at this blog and my other blog (which I had when I was in high school), I could totally see when I started to lose the passion. When I started focusing more on my life and not on myself. Blogging and writing had always been my getaway. As I look at my drafts, I could see half-finished pieces, stories, how-to and memories. It saddens me that there was a time when idea just flow right through me and drafts were merely a way for me to save my progress so that I can finish a blog in a few hours. Now, the draft box has become a graveyard of my non-continuous ideas, writer’s block and loss of hope.

I don’t know if I’m still as passionate in writing as I was before. But writing has already been engraved in me and I couldn’t imagine losing the chance and the ability to write, to be able to convey my feelings. I think the one reason why interest in writing hasn’t been up there lately but because I haven’t been writing. I mean, some people would say that one of the easiest ways to rekindle a relationship is to bond with them again, right? I guess that’s what I have to do. To write more, blog more. Anything under the sun.

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I’m a Strong, Independent Human Being

It has been over a year now since I’ve moved out of my mom’s house and live on my own. For the first year, I moved into the school dorm which is not bad. It’s actually a great way to ease myself into being independent. I had a bachelor room which gave me sense of how it is to actually live alone. I cooked my own meals and paid my own bills. I had to do grocery shopping for myself or else I would have nothing to eat. I learned how to handle money and control my spending habits.

Halfway through the year, I felt like I had definitely become accustomed into living alone. For the longest time, I’ve already known that I would want to live by myself rather than have a roommate. I see myself as an outgoing introvert, if that makes any sense. I like keeping to myself most of the time but I also enjoy mingling and socializing with people. When at work, I’m happy and bouncy. However, the moment I get home, I just want a peace of mind and I get to do anything that I want. In the perfect world, I can afford all the luxuries in life. But it’s not and I don’t have a whole lot of money which means that having a roommate is an option that I cannot let go. I have friend for years now who also moved into the city the same time as I did and we talked and talked and eventually decided to rent an apartment together. The apartment we found was perfect in size and location. However, a few days into us moving into the apartment, they found cockroaches which means that instead of August, they told us we could only move in around October. Sucks for me, I had to leave the dorms by 3rd of August.

For two weeks, I was stressed out about the apartment. We decided to not go through with the roommate plan and I started to look for apartments. It was tiring. I was on Kijiji days and nights. I was on FB Market looking for rooms, basements and apartments. I went and visited a whole lot of places to no luck. Some were dingy, one was nice but waaay to far and the other one was just too expensive for what I get. I looked and looked until I found this apartment that was marketed cheaper than many of its counterparts and close to the school that I wanted to go. So I messaged the owner that night, got a reply from him in the morning asking me to call him and a minute later after that, I managed to book a viewing.

The place was perfect for me. Or maybe it was just what the tired me thought. Either way, I still got the apartment. On the day that I did my viewing, I signed papers and the next day, I gave my damage deposit. I couldn’t contain my happiness and called my mom about it. I finally got my own apartment! It’s a one bedroom apartment with all utilities included and the only extra is internet. Plus there’s laundry in the building so it’s not a hassle to wash my clothes at a laundromat.

I’ve been living in this apartment for about two weeks now and I’m just starting to settle. Overall, I feel like I need a badge that says “level two adulting” because I finally got myself my own apartment!!

F*** You Folliculitis

A week ago, I suffered unbearable itchiness on my face. Also, tiny lumps that feels disgusting under my palms. On the first day that I realized that I have these tiny lumps on my forehead, I immediately called 811 to ask some initial suggestions on what I have. The lady asked me different questions which all narrow down to questions about measles. I was vaccinated but it still didn’t stop me from thinking that maybe I was one of the very few people where the vaccine just didn’t work.

The next day, I prepared myself to go to the hospital. I didn’t want to go to a clinic because what if it’s something that’s easy communicable? I may need to be isolated for a week from the general public. I drove to the ER because I didn’t want to potentially infect anyone else. I entered ER and the triage nurse asked me what I was in for. I pointed at my face which is now full of red dots and he said, “Acne?” And I was almost like, “Yes, I went to ER for acne”. But no, I was feeling itchy and feverish so I told him, “I think it’s an allergic reaction because I have it on my arm too”. He asked me to sit down for a while and I waited for my name to be called. About 10 minutes later, another triage nurse called me in for my vitals to be taken and she immediately though I had chicken pox. I am 80% sure I haven’t had chicken pox yet because my mom said I didn’t have it as a kid but my grandma said I did. So I was isolated in to a room and I was texting and updating my dad about what is happening.

The doctors came in the room and looked at my dots on my face, arms, chest and back. He asked, “Did you tell them you have chicken pox?” and I was like, “No, the lady (nurse) did”. Ultimately, it wasn’t chicken pox and measles. He said the dots looks very different from chicken pox and he said I may have folliculitis, inflammation of the follicles. It just so happened that they decided to inflame on my face. Anyways, he prescribed me a topical and oral antibiotic.

The next few days felt like years to me. I refused to go out of my dorm room because I was so ashamed of my own face. There were tiny red dots and many white bumps. I’m one of those people who feel disgusted when seeing tiny circles in such close proximity from each other. Unfortunately, that’s what happened to my face. I would wake up in the morning and I can’t even directly touch my own face because the tiny dots felt so disgusting under my palms. I had to use a wash cloth and gently press it on my face. I would apply the topical medicine thrice a day on my face and body. For four days, this was what I did. By the fifth day, the bumps started to dry out and one by one, they started to fall off. I have this tendency to pick on my face but this time, I tried my hardest not to or else it’s gonna create some holes on my face. I’m vain like that.

By the end of 7 days (the duration of my antibiotic treatment), my face felt smoother and the last of the bumps had dried out already. It’s flat now and not like some mountainous terrain. I feel my confidence coming back and I know that I can finally get out of my room and get my parcel from the lobby. It’s been there for four days and I refused to go down and show my face to anyone.

For those seven days, I finally understand how some people with severe acne gets some low confidence. For those few days, I would look at my face and pity myself. I was just about ready to quit my job and go home if it didn’t clear up by the end of 7 days. Thankfully it did and I was able to return to my job two days after I finished my medication.

Growing up, I’ve always had bad acne especially on my forehead and chin area. I learned to just love myself and not care about the pimples that just show up on the middle of my face. But for the past few years, I’ve had less acne and the scars were already starting to heal and I was finally feeling a tad bit pretty. When this happened, I thought it was gonna be the end of my world. But then I hyped myself up and just reminded myself of my dreams. All of those can’t be achieved if I just decided to hole myself inside my dorm room.

Anyways, I have dark spots on my forehead and pretty much my whole chin. Some people suggested I wear foundation but I don’t want to. I don’t like wearing make-up because I sweat easy and you’ll just see water streaks. Also, my face is still healing and I don’t want to irritate it and get more redness. For now, I’m just using some gentle cleanser and tone correcting moisturizer. This whole ordeal made me realize that I really am vain.

On (Slowly) Losing my Friends

I’ve been living in Canada for over four years now. I was told by a lot of people that the longer you stay outside the country, the less friends you get to keep in the Philippines. I thought that was bullocks because my friends and I promised each other to communicate often. I was a silly girl.

On my first few months, there were definitely some communications going on. It was mostly on Facebook and Viber. We would chat on FB messenger and have some group message going on. Slowly though, I realize that I was the first one that would approach them. If I don’t say hi, I would never get any message. After a year, I started to wait for them to contact me. There were definitely a few, but it started getting less and less until I don’t chat with anyone anymore. So I sort of started to reach out to them again but it was all futile because I was mostly the one handling the conversation. I didn’t want to strain any friendship I have with my close friends but this distance that they’re putting is enough for me to back off.

I’m still friends with them on FB and follows them on IG. I would like their posts but rarely comment. There’s the occasional ‘Congrats’ and ‘Happy Birthday’ but that’s it. I used to post these lengthy-ass FB birthday posts and reading them on my FB memories when they pop-up gives me such bittersweet feeling. At some point, these people were my friends, my confidants and partners-in-crime. Now, we’re mostly just colleagues with some good memories.

 

On Turning 22

Today, on the 22nd of September, I officially turned 22. For 22 years I’ve been living in this world, gracing everybody with my wonderful existence. This birthday has been by far my loneliest and quietest birthday ever… the worst if you may. 

For a few days now, I’ve been planning things to do for this day. When I found out that I was given this day off work, I planned to watch the sunrise and go visit the Fort Edmonton Park. Maybe walk around my residence for a while and just enjoy the day alone. I would end the day with a nice dinner whilst overlooking the whole city. However, I did got up at 5 am (I slept at like 2) just so I can catch the wonderful sunrise. Lo and behold, it’s super gloomy and the sun wasn’t even out. It was rainy and cold. I was gonna just enjoy the walking trail but the signs pretty much saying ‘Keep out, the trails are eroding’ doesn’t sound super safe to me. So off I went back to the dorm and re-planned my day again.

Since I couldn’t go back to sleep anyways, my first meal of being 22 was rice with sunny side up! I wanted to have pancakes but I just got lazy to go to Denny’s (which is literally right across the street) and I didn’t want to order online and wait for 20 minutes. I just told myself that I would give myself a wonderful dinner. Looking out of my window, it’s still gloomy and rainy. I just threw the idea of going to the Fort Edmonton Park away and just got dressed for I have no idea what. I was gonna go to Michael’s so I can buy a Create 365 planner but I got lazy (again). I actually have a Create 365 planner which I barely used and still had September to December on it. I want to make a 365 days of writing special things that happened to me on that day onto a diary. However, I know that I suck at keeping a diary (blogging works better for me anyways) and all I need is a little bit of space to write a few sentences. The Create 365 planner is the perfect planner to use.
By 2pm, I didn’t know what to do anymore. I could have studied or read some books. But no… why would I wanna spend my birthday doing that? So I watched Rush Hour 2 and 3 and made myself happy. By 5pm, I was on UberEats and Skip the Dishes app trying to find some food that I want to eat. I can’t decide if I wanted some steak or fried chicken or poke or some Filipino stuff. In the end, after an hour, I settled on some ribs and chicken with rice from Swiss Chalet. I didn’t even have a birthday cake.


Overall, this day for me has been a meh. It’s definitely not how I want to celebrate my birthday. However, I am living alone in this big city with barely any friends. I feel better though when I talked on the phone with my family members. My parents of course called me as well as my aunt. My aunt gave me a gift that I didn’t expect, she’ll pay for my phone’s monthly bill! That’s already a very big help for me because that’s already a $100 less expense for me.

As for some FB greetings, it’s mostly some Canada friends that greeted me. There are some from the Philippines but I actually didn’t even expect some greetings from them. We don’t even talk anymore.

I’m 22, one year older but not wiser. Although I can say that I am more mature now and less vulnerable.

On Moving Out and Living Alone

Finally! The day that I have been waiting for has finally arrived. I’ve always thought about this for years, even when I was still back in the Philippines. I’ve always wanted to be an independent lady who can live and survive alone in the big city. This is it, a step closer to my dream.

I have been living in a small city for four years. That city didn’t even have an escalator! Since I came from a big city, moving to a smaller one here in Canada was definitely a big thing for me. I was used to big malls, traffic and noise. In GP, it was definitely less noisy and less traffic. Also, there was only one mall that’s one level and closes at 6pm. Although I was happy living with my mom, I wasn’t contented in living in such a small place. I was born for the city. I’m a city girl after all. My mom, if she has the absolute say, would prefer for me to stay in GP. But me, with my adventurous and curious heart, don’t want to stay. I want to be in a big city.

I’m currently in Edmonton, about 4 hours from GP. It’s a fairly big city and houses the biggest mall in North America, the West Edmonton Mall. It also has a few more malls and little strip malls on the side. I’ve only been here for a week so I have a lot of exploring to do. I have to do it before winter though or else I wouldn’t enjoy the walks and driving so much.

I moved out of my mom’s house with barely any money in my pocket and a shit-ton of student loan on my back. She helped me buy my necessities and my dad supplies me monthly money (yaaaas!). But since I’m a strong, independent woman, I’m also on the hunt for a job. I’ve been working for over four years now and I’m used to it already. Not working makes me feel unenergetic and super lazy.

The thing about living alone in the big city is that it’s just me. I don’t have friends here… yet. I’m hoping to meet more people in the next few days so I wouldn’t feel alone. I’m an introvert but I’m also someone who likes some good conversations. I talk a lot and being cooped up in my room with my phone in front of me most of the time is not exactly healthy. I really need to get out more (or maybe open my bedroom door?).

It’s only been a week since I have moved out. Things will happen and I’ll probably meet a lot of new people. It’s not bad, it’s also not as exciting just yet.

Seeking Help: One of the Bravest Things I’ve Done

I remember that one morning, I woke up uneasy. I sat on my bed and bad, suicidal thoughts clouded my mind. My heart felt heavy and my head was messing with me. I remember being emotional and irrational. The thought of jumping off a bridge or driving my car through a cliff kept on replaying in my head, over and over again. I was a mess. I was crying, I was in pain. I remember deciding not to to get out of the my room on that day because I was scared of actually harming myself. The sight of the scissors made my skin crawl as I imagined it piercing through my skin. I winced at the thought but it did give me comfort. Thoughts of hurting myself always gives me comfort as well as uneasiness.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The emotions were taking over and I knew that I had to help myself before I lose myself. I searched the suicide hotline and called them. It rang and I had the strongest urge to cut the call off but I knew that I had to push through. A lady answered, she said she was a registered nurse and she could help me for the time being. I was crying but she was calm. She talked me through and helped me find the nearest help center. She asked me if I feel safe from myself, I said “Yes” even though I wasn’t too sure myself. She directed me to the center and a few hours later, I was calm enough to drive and started my baby steps towards a better mental health.

I remember sitting on that chair with the lady across me. She was asking me questions, questions a counselor from two years ago have asked me too. In my head, I thought she would be the same as that counselor, with fake empathy and note-taking BS. I hated that counselor. I only had one session with her and never came back because I felt too embarrassed pouring out myself to a stranger which obviously showed me fake empathy. But this new lady is different. One of the first things she told me was, “You are very brave in coming here“. Brave is one word that I would describe myself when it comes to tackling many life challenges but I never thought that asking for help is considered a brave move. But this lady just called me brave because I finally sought help to better my mental health.

I was eventually placed as urgent in the list for day therapy sessions. I got a single-session therapy with this male therapist (probably a psychologist?) who told me that I didn’t have depression, but I already know that. What I didn’t know was that I had Childhood Trauma. No one has beaten me to a pulp nor sexually harassed me. But the way I was brought up definitely affected how my brain works. It affected my personality, my emotions and how I breath. I didn’t know that I breath differently from a normal person. Apparently, regular people breath mainly using their stomach. I, on the other had, breath mainly using my chest. When this therapist asked me try and breath using my stomach, I had a hard time doing it and I still have trouble doing it right now. He said that my way of breathing shows that I’m always on the end, that my brain is rarely relaxed which explains why my anxiety is always at the background. Also, he showed me a diagram relating to childhood trauma. It wasn’t just anxiety or depression, it’s a combination of different things but never the whole thing. I didn’t have depression just because I still have appetite with food and pleasure. However, I still showed the other signs and symptoms for it. In short, he said that I have GAD, a bit of depression, a bit of OCD and a bit of some more other things that I wish I remember because I was an idiot and didn’t just took a photo of it.

I have finally started my therapy sessions. These are free so it definitely helps me a lot. I’m looking forward in finding more about myself and actually experience emotions that I have probably deprived myself in a long time. I’m also considering taking some medicines so I’m just gonna have to wait until I meet with my family doctor.

Seeking help for your mental health is not a bad idea. It’s gotta be one of the best things you can do for yourself. You get to stop asking “What is wrong with me?” to start asking “How can I help myself?”. It can be scary at first, but it can definitely help you in the long run.

 

On Traveling for the First Time Alone

This past January, I finally decided to make an appointment to renew my passport. Since I get to have a week off from school because of Reading Week, I planned to make my trip on that week. It was supposed to be just a two-day-one-night trip but since this is the first time that I get to travel alone, I might as well make the most out of it. In the end, I went away from three days and two nights.

Because this is a solo trip, I also get to book my own flights and hotel. I used my Air Miles and More Rewards points to help me save money. It took me hours to choose which flights to go and hotel to stay at. I wanted to arrive in Vancouver as early as I can and leave as late as I can just so I have lots of time to explore the city. The hotel that I wanted has to not need lots of Air Miles and should be in or near Canada Place. Finally, I settled with an early morning flight (5:20 am) so I get to arrive in Vancouver at around 9 am and a later returning flight at 5:30 pm. The hotel that I got was in downtown Granville and was just steps away from the shopping and food places as well as just minutes away from Canada Place.

On the days leading through my flight, I would check and double check my flight and hotel just to make sure that I have it all prepared. I would read tips on travelling alone as well as packing tips. The night before my flight, I was still packing up stuff on to my carry-on. I was torn between carrying my whole wardrobe or just bring a change of four outfits plus sleep wear. In the end, I just picked whatever I liked to bring and since I was going to a big city anyway, I can just always buy whatever I would need.

On the day of my flight, I almost missed the checking in at 4:50 am because I reached the airport at around 4:55 am. Thank goodness for online check-in. Phew. Anyways, I booked a Plus Seat for that flight and it was ah-mazing. Actually, all of my flights were awesome. In 3.5 out of 4 flights that I had, I was seated next to no one. The 0.5 was my flight from Vancouver to Kelowna where I was seated next to this girl then Kelowna to Calgary where I was seated next to no one.

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This was the best part of my flight to Calgary. ❤

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Since this is a trip to a big city, I decided to eat at places that I wouldn’t get at GP. So it took me over 30 minutes to find places that I would love to try. There were tons of pizza and sushi places and I could always get that here. In the end, I got to eat in Nando’s (a Portuguese-style restaurant), Guu Garden (Japanese restaurant), Congee Noodle Delight (Chinese restaurant) and Cafe Crepe (crepe place). I made sure to order foods that I couldn’t get here for me to atleast get a unique food experience.

The highlight of this trip would be my dinner at the Top of Vancouver Revolving Restaurant. This was an experience that I loved and would love to do again. It might have been hella expensive but it was worth the price. I wish I could have stayed longer in that restaurant (I was there over an hour) because the view was just to pretty to pass.

My trip involved a lot of walking. I walked to Chinatown, World of Science and all around the Granville area. I was able to sit by a window and just observe people go by their daily lives. I was able to, in a really short while, experience what it’s like to live in this big city. This trip has enabled me to realize how I much I actually love travelling to new places. I’ve always known that I would love to travel at some point, but now that I’ve finally done it alone, I would love to do it again. This trip has helped become less anxious as I was finally able to get a rest from many stressors in this place and have a getaway to another place.

This trip has helped me relax, even for just a bit. This is what I needed and would need again. Here’s to me going to another new place alone again.*cheers*

What It’s Like Living with Anxiety

I’ve lived with anxiety for years now and I didn’t even know about it. I though that it’s normal for a person to feel scared for no reason once in a while. I thought that it was just part of survival, to be on the edge all the time. However, in 2014, I went to the doctor because I had trouble breathing and had really bad headache. He assessed me, asked if I was stress and ask me some questions about my health. He looked at me and said, “You appear to have mild anxiety. I would suggest that you talk to the counselor that we have”. I went to that counselor and talked to her. I remember crying and pouring out my heart to her and it made me feel better. However, I felt pity on myself after that session because I pretty much became vulnerable to stranger who doesn’t care about me nor truly empathize with what I was going through. That was my first and last time with a counselor.

Over the years, I read more about anxiety and that’s when I realized that it’s more than just being nervous. It’s something that I have to live with everyday and just attacks me at random moments. It’s more than just being nervous or stressed out for an exam. It’s about sitting in class then suddenly feeling nervous for no unknown reason. It’s about trying hard not to breakdown in public because I just heard a loud noise. It’s about not crying at work because I had to deal with a lot of mean customers than normal. It’s about having an anxiety attack while driving to work because I was not sure if I turned off the stove just because I didn’t triple check everything before I left. It’s about having to tell work that I’m gonna late because my car wouldn’t start instead of I was having an anxiety attack because most people doesn’t understand how bad an anxiety attack is. It’s about getting shitty grades because the stress gets to me and my anxiety levels is so up there that I can’t focus on anything and the only way to evade the scary feeling is to sleep.

There are a lot of things that I want to do: skyjumping, cliff diving, skiing. However, just thinking about these already send my heart racing. I have to take a lot of baby steps in order for me to stay calm and avoid getting those dreaded attacks. I have to keep on telling myself that I am okay and there’s no reason to cry. I had to learn how to keep living normally while the feeling of dread is always there. I have to strategically plan everything that will stress me out or elevate my anxiety levels just to avoid getting anxiety attacks (mostly doesn’t work but it’s worth the shot). I still have my McDonald’s Crew Trainer workbook with me, something that I finished doing two weeks ago. I’ve been putting off submitting it because I was scared that on the day I would get verified, I would breakdown. This is one of the many things that I have to hold back in order to keep myself together.

The thing about anxiety is that it’s not something that comes up one day and scared me shitless. It was something that I have always experienced ever since I was younger. I looked back to the many times that I have felt nervous for no reason and those times that I just cried because of the build up stress and emotions. At that time, I thought I was just being silly and a cry baby.

Day by day, I’m moving forward. My stress levels right now are up there, so is my anxiety level. The littlest, stupidest shit can set me off. I almost had a breakdown at work today, but I held it in until I went home. The thing that almost set me off was a customer shouting at his son, not me. But guess what? I’m functioning. I think I’m doing a great job in pretending to live normally.

Just Kidding Films is my Inspiration

I love browsing through Youtube and just watch random videos made by different people. One time, I was specifically looking for Asian Youtubers and ended up watching lots of videos by the Fung Brothers, Niga Higa and some Wong Fu skits. I kept on seeing videos from Just Kidding News on my recommendation list. Because the name Just Kidding News didn’t appeal to me, I didn’t care for their videos much. At some point, I got more curious about JKNews because I kept on seeing it so I decided to just open one of their videos. I wish that I can still remember that video because that is that one video that made me fall in love with the whole Just Kidding Crew.
I’ve been watching JKNews videos for a year now. I watch it every morning while I’m having breakfast and sometimes at lunch when I have no one to eat with. I love how each of the crew member gives their opinion and are very fun to watch. Although sometimes I don’t agree with what they are saying, it’s still nice to hear some opinion from other people. I love their antics and the funny edits that the editors though. I love how they kick and punch and create holes on the wall of their old office. I love the chemistry that the crew has with each other and with the guest.


Because of JKNews, I started to watch a lot more of their videos from their other channels. Just Kidding Party is my second favourite channel from all of Just Kidding’s channel. I love how they go crazy with the punishments that they do and they’re not scared to do whatever dirty or scary things that they pick in whatever games. My favourite game that they do is Mafia. I watch the one without their characters being revealed because I feel like I’m part of the townspeople. I love it when Julia becomes mafia because she got better with her lying skills and I admire Byron for being so good at this game (as well as in One Night Werewolf).
I’ve also watched a lot of their vlogs. I watch videos from Tiff & Case, Bart and Geo (The Beaws rock!) and Joe Jo (Jechika, you amazeballs of an editor). I know that Julia has a vlog channel but she doesn’t exactly update much so I haven’t really visited her channel for a while. Because of these vlogs, I feel like a friend but not a friend to the JK crew. I can tell you some details about their lives like what they did in Japan or when Geo and Bart lost Briggy (spelling?) and their journey with Meatloaf or Tiffany and Casey’s vacation in Mexico. I can tell you part of their journey from the old office to the new office and the other members of the JK Family from behind the camera.

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Bart and Joe

However, more than anything else, the reason why I’m a big fan of Just Kidding Films, especially of Bart and Joe, is the fact that they are successful. They are successful because they worked hard. They are successful because they did not give up. They are successful because they pushed themselves for more experience. They are successful because they did not stop with just one company and are still venturing on some other business (like Go for Broke with David So). They are successful because they did what they love and wanted to do.
In a few years from now, I want to be as successful as Bart and Joe, as successful as their company Just Kidding Films. I am no filmmaker no do I have the drive to be one. I want to be as successful as them in a way that I want to see myself succeed in my chosen path. I want to prove to everyone else that even though the odds could have been against me, I can still push through and be successful. That at some point in my life, people’s gonna know me because of the achievements that I have because I worked hard and did what I love.
It amazes me how big Just Kidding Films become. Joe and Bart started taking videos from one digital camera (am I right?) and now they have all these high technology camera and a new set and office. Everytime I lose sight of my goal or get disheartened or someone tells me that what I’m doing won’t amount to much (I’m studying to become a Geneticist), I just watch some Just Kidding videos to remind myself that Bart and Joe didn’t start from the top. But they managed to rise to the top from the bottom and I think that that is one of the greatest inspiration that I will ever have.