I'm Okay.

Fuck. (What a way to start a blog post, huh?) I know I haven't been keeping up here.. but I've been writing in my other books and taking up some art pieces. I have had many intentions of posting something but the posts are all unfinished and saved as drafts. I just wanted to say I'm okay, also, not okay. Why? Because.

Because my psychiatrist is an asshole. It's my first time really being assessed monthly by one, so it makes it all the worst that the first time had been a terrible experience. "Had" because I am going to cancel my future appointments and try to dwindle down on the meds and deal without them. Unless my mom had asked what I had been diagnosed with the first time I came in, he probably wouldn't have told me. Let's start from the beginning though...

Let's call him Tuna, because I hate the smell of tuna. Tuna should not even be considered a physician, it's such a surprise to see the lack of empathy in this ward and in many doctors I've come across. It's a disgrace and it encourages me further to believe that I am a joke. I've come to resort to my own self diagnoses because I did not trust Tuna's. He was extremely vague. He did not introduce himself. He did not explain how the processes worked. He asked me basic questions which apparently supported an entire diagnosis. He just asked about what school I go to... my eating and sleeping habits, etc. He ended up sticking panic disorder in a sentence. I know I have a panic disorder, general anxiety disorder and major depression, yet I've only been treated for the former. He ignored everything else. He never asked how I felt. He handed me his prescription and asked to see me in a month's time. He did not ask for my availability or explained what the medication was or did. My mom and I left the room (after 10 minutes...) and kind of looked at each other. "Was it supposed to be that fast? He was kind of rude."

I did my research once I got home... on him and the medication. On the side my parents kind of neglected the idea of mental health and its true existence in this form, in me. I guess it's because I'm their child and they refused to accept the idea that their own child had resulted to "this". It's not their fault. Their reactions had gotten worse as I got worse.

Meanwhile, I was reading Tuna's reviews are rate my doctor ...terrible, terrible, terrible. Quite scary too, knowing I was reacting to the meds terribly. As the person that I am, I gave him a chance... waited it out, see if he lived up to the comments or if he changed. I see him once every month... I wait a month for a 10 minute appointment to his convenience. He's been blunt. Said my symptoms were "odd". Questioned why sometimes I cried in the room. I kept giving him chances. My last appointment was hell. I needed some forms signed for school, to be signed up for our accessiblity services, which is a program in which people help those who need it with extra help, physical or mental disabilities etc. He raged at me. "You don't need it. Why do you need this? I don't get it. You don't have cancer so you don't get to have special treatment. Everybody has this. You have to deal with it. You have to live with it. So no." This was the second time I had tried and that was painful. Since then I've been stopping some of my meds... cutting more... almost-feel-like-dying panic attacks. Helpless. And there has been a lot going on the side making it worse.

It's been chaotic and this is only a fraction of it. But I'll leave it at that. It's just been a huge disappointment. Mental health is something I truly believe in and with this experience I've become even more existential of the aspect of life and mental health. But, I'm okay.

Until next time,
Mer x

Video Diary #1: Miracles in the Mundane

Hi. C'est la mer. So this summer, I've decided to continue my little tradition of creating quick little video diaries. I just think it is so important to make the best out of your memories. I'm sure we do remember all the greatest memories but what about the in betweens? I literally find beauty in everything. Normal things. Whatever "normal" means. These little things I find are the most important things and most of us are so quick to overlook them because we don't really understand them on a deeper level. I am constantly amazed by everything because I'm always looking up. I look up to the sky and I remember... "wow... we're living on a planet floating who knows where and who knows why." I was put here for a reason, I don't know what it is yet, and I may not ever know. I'm just going to enjoy... enjoy whatever it is that comes. Enjoy what this "normal" is. Not just the extravagant times, but the mundane. Enjoy all that exists.

Everything that I put into these video diaries means something to me. Sometimes people may not understand why I put certain footage in there and maybe even years from now when I stumble upon these videos I may not understand themselves. So, what it is I really want to do is just explain the beauty I observe and why it's important to me. They are just ideas that happen to pop into my head as I film the moments; beauty I wouldn't want to forget.

Anyways, here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QG5mOo17LbQ

It was my first couple days of summer vacation. I loved seeing the brightness on people's faces when they smile and wave, especially my mom. I love it because it's a sudden emotion and at that moment we forget our insecurities for a second and we let the world know the happiness within. All the problems wash away and you just feel the works of a smile rush through your body. The skies were so blue and so wonderful and there were hardly any clouds in the sky. It was surreal. I love passing by open fields and close to blooming trees. Everything feels very refreshing and spacious. We went to Markville Mall that day. It was quite busy but this mall is my favourite because everything is just so open and there are a million windows and it's clean, oh so clean and bright. I tried some new food in the food court. It's always a thing for me to try something new when it's available. I had some Indian butter chicken and chick peas with a mango drink on the side. It was scrumptious. My sister needed to go dress shopping for my other sister's wedding. I love the way people look at themselves in the mirror and don't realize how beautiful they are. I like the way they turn to try to look at their backs and their bum and I realize how we never see how we truly look like. We only see the front side of us most of the time. We cannot fathom the beauty other people see in us and that is such a tragedy.

We reached home and I played with the kids and like I said, I love spontaneously catching the emotions of people in the moment. Children have the best emotions and I love their random reactions and silliness and innocence.

I love the way the sun peaks through my transparent curtains and I love drawing back my curtains for a good read. I love opening a new book and touching the pages for the first time and smelling the crisp paper. I love hearing the spine crack a little.

I love the freshness of a baby. Skin that has not been tattered. The way their toes and their fingers move trying to discover the world. They're incredible little creatures.

I love the feel of cobblestone grounds beneath my feet. There is such beauty in overcast skies swallowing tattered old buildings. Within these buildings hide beautiful cafes, shops, restaurants and galleries and that is what humans are. Casings hiding what truly lies within, waiting for somebody to open the door and explore a little. I love gallivanting with best friends and weathered bricks and genuine smiles and watching people open presents you've given them. You can see the sparkle and excitement in their eye and their breaths and the way they blink right after they've opened it up. I love people watching and seeing people doing their own thing in the world. The way they get to places they need to go or the way they linger around and enjoy, enjoying in the way I try to enjoy. I love the way a candle burns out. And I love hidden art works on buildings, in people, in the atmosphere. I love cafes and a good old board game gone wrong. I love the smell of old record stores and the excitement of finding that record you've been searching all along. I love the spaces in between those very same people looking through the records and flipping through each one. Their minds are racing but the spaces are quiet. "Are you ready to cash out?" "Yes, I definitely am." My favourite lines as I carry my bundles of records. I love the plain, old "every days".

La Mer

Untitled

I just got back from the thrift store and I was looking at the books for a long time. And there was this man beside me and minding his own business. He literally reminded me of someone from Duck Dynasty. Meanwhile,  I was just thinking of all the books that I bought at the thrift store and I wanted to reread A Million Little Pieces by James Frey again. Then the guy (who my back is towards now) randomly asked me if I read any James Frey novels. I was so fucking startled because I was literally thinking of that. I turned around and I noticed his eyes, and they were literally so god damn blue. Like I said, he reminded me of someone from Duck Dynasty so he was wearing dark clothing and a leather jacket and carrying a few items and then he has these blue puppy dog eyes. I was a little uncomfortable at first just because I always am when I'm meeting someone new. Anyways, he started talking about the novel and was so into James Frey's novels and I put out a comment on my opinion. It was so weird but it was nice at the same time. I kind of felt bad for being so startled because he seems genuinely interested in books. Most of the people that approach me are only interested in things that make me uncomfortable. He asked if I read a lot etc. No creepy questions at all. Then he left to pay for his items and left the store. Then he came back into the store and said, hey I forgot to give you this. Then he handed me his CD. I was so worried that he was going to ruin the moment and say something that would make me all uncomfortable. He said his name was Anthony but he goes by John Boom for his records. He said it was nice meeting me and I said I really liked the album cover. His record description is actually super funny too: "This album is dedicated for those who don't take life for granted, for those who believe attitude is 100 percent and who know that we all walk on the same sidewalk so no one is floating ...yet. Hopefully you can get something meaningful from this album and not just donate it to Value Village, Salvation Army, or Goodwill for me to find later in the years but if I do find it, I will probably buy the damn thing! And whoever donates old cassette tapes, thank you very much. This is the first John Boom & The Jellyfish album of many more to come. A reputable consultant, let's call him Chris, once told me that you must empower the people, so what's more empowering to people than handing out free CDs? Maybe that's not empowerment but it's pretty cool...project free wifi is empowering! I have always loved the blues and recently have been a sponge to hip hop, mostly early to mid nineties east coast New York hip hop and have always wanted to put them together, this is the end result, just like that, Smack!! (Which is his album title). Actually, a smack is a group of jellyfish FYI. It has been a long ride to get to the point of being able to produce my own CD but it's here, I used to record solely on 4 track cassette recorders but have upgraded to using the computer and keeping it professional...etc." Then he talks about his recording stuff. It was cool.

Monday, March 30th, 2015.

Now Playing: Bones - Ben Howard

Bonjour. C'est lundi. March is shedding its skin for the arrival of rainy April days. Yes. I'm surprisingly having a fantabulous Monday. I took a 2 day vacation this weekend. I usually continue doing my school work on the weekend but this week I nestled on my velvety couch for the whole two days resting my body. There were some incidents during the week that tore me to shreds and soaked up all the little energy I had left. I may be a day or two behind schedule but I'm frankly okay with it. I needed it. I wasn't looking forward to today, but now that today has come.... it's fantabulous. I woke up at 7 06AM. I fell asleep on the couch. I've been less anxious sleeping on the couch compared to my room because my mom's also there and it's very helpful to have another breathing soul resting by your side. I definitely could hear my mom trying to wake me up while preparing breakfast but of course I was a lazy cat and didn't pay attention. She decided some new methods in waking me up. She usually calls my phone because my ringtone is pretty loud: Diana Ross, I'm Coming Out. She decided to use the blender today and that did the trick. My clever mother, everyone! I had a full hour to calmly get ready. Last night, I was too bummy and thought I should just go to school in what I slept in, which is always a good idea. But I checked the weather before I went upstairs and it's a bit rainy, 4 degrees Celsius, and overcast skies. Perfect. My favourite kind of day. I still kept the slouchy look and wore my favourite orange hat with my outfit which consists of jeans and a t shirt and a cardigan and an olive green jacket. I decided to wear my nude flats today just for a change. I wore light makeup today, and light pink eyeshadow, something I've never tried. I even had time to curl my hair. I come downstairs to homemade breakfast, but today was different. Usually my mom likes to stuff me with Filipino breakfasts but she's getting the hang of my healthier breakfasts that I've introduced to her. I usually make the meals on the weekend and my meals do regulate her blood sugar levels. She said she didn't know how to make the breakfasts I make her, which usually consists of avocados, eggs, multigrain toast, pieces of fruit and a smoothie. But that stuff is much easier than the foods she makes which I found pretty funny. She did a damn well job today. I got to take my time having my delicious breakfast while playing with my niece, Maia. I took a break my hip hop music, I missed my acoustic/indie music oh so much. I changed up my phone music to Ed Sheeran, Passenger, Matt Corby, Hozier, Vance Joy, and Matthew Barber. The first song that played once I left the house was Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran. Of course. Perfect right? I felt the cool breeze... a feeling I've missed the past two days. It feels like autumn today and it makes me happy. Bus rides are also my favourite. I love to look out the windows, especially because I live around a variety of areas. There are farms, cemeteries, forests and little neighbourhoods. On the bus I can't stop tapping my foot, my fingers, or bobbing my head. It's an irreplaceable rhythm especially when you're on the bus... everything feels so still. On the next bus I got on, I stared out the window above my head that showed the sky and it was simply cool to see a new perspective of the world and new angles of the everyday things we see. The street wires, the lampposts, birds, traffic lights. I just thought it was damn cool. I was happy because I'm beginning to find everything beautiful once again without forcing it upon myself. I've been too exhausted to see things, and I mean really see things. To have this be the first thing that happens in my day was overwhelming. I started thinking about beauty. I asked... why must there be an image to beauty? In everything, what constitutes beauty? Nothing constitutes it because beauty is in the core of everything. I thought about it some more, and that became philosophical bus ride number 1. I think I may have a series of these philosophical moments.... I should jot them down in my quotation book. Then, I got to school, I'm having a honey lemon cough drop, I'm sitting in my favourite place in the library overlooking a pine tree which is currently dancing with the wind. The light is bouncing all over the place, and I've finally got a French class to attend this morning. All is well right now and it hasn't been like this in a long while, as it seems. This is a big deal. Hope you are all having a beautiful morning as I am.

Love, Mer.

Untitled

I’m currently writing on the bus, just got off from school. I sat my ass down the entire day writing a 10 page French essay in the library. I decided to release some of the stress through here. I haven’t had an update post in a while, but this is a good sign because I’ve been taking care of myself. I usually write when I need to… which means I usually write when I need to talk to someone but don’t want to physically talk to someone. I’ve been finishing a bunch of assignments and trying to do as best I can in school right now since some of our TAs are on strike. So far only one of my classes are cancelled… but it’s my best class and getting a credit for this course is crucial for the next two years of my school year. I’m so focused. I’m so determined. But this makes me so anxious. Anyways, I’ll mention several events that haven happened thus far (probably not in chronological order)

·     My sister and her fiancé celebrated their engagement and held a bridal shower at the Distillery District, which is a quaint little artsy strip. It was held at the gallery and it was spectacular. The night before, the bridesmaids spent time together to create the sweet table. My other sister, who’s a chef, catered the event and it was spectacular. It was cozy and it was so nice to see everyone play a part rather than have an event planner plan everything. It meant more; it was more. It was perfect. Even the music was DJ’d by my sister’s best friends and it was on point. I’m back in the 90s with my music. (I also created a playlist; I’ll leave a link below). All my childhood memories flooded back as I caught up with my sister’s fiancé’s family, and her best friend’s families. They were all telling me stories of when I was younger and it was a rush. It was a beautiful experience.

·      I attended CounterMOSAIC. This was an event held at my school that my good friend asked me to go to. It was empowering. It was somewhat of a poetry slam event about resistance, power, feminism, and equity. Everybody was so down to earth, and inspiring. Rupi Kaur and Cherrell Brown were performers as well. I had the chance to meet a new friend as well, Jessica. It is simply a satisfying feeling to be around people who love the same things as you.  I was literally touched by everyone’s passion that I was inspired to write once again (hence, my previous post). It was an honour to experience and breathe the same air as all these empowering people.

·      I had my very own late night study session at school. I’ve been meaning to have one of those because they seem like an accomplishment. I think it’s one of the MUST experiences of a university student. So I wrote my 10 page French paper that day on a Saturday night until 11pm. It was exhilarating. Shout out to all who were there that night …and every Saturday/Sunday night. 

·      I feel like I’ve been balancing well with school and friends and family and myself. I make sure I have minimal things to do on the weekend so I can still spend time with my mom and dad. Discipline at its finest so I’m going to pat myself on the back for that. It does take a lot of sacrifice to not give in to hanging out with friends during my breaks at school. Lately, I’ve just been trying to read ahead of my courses and all that and I feel much better that way. Although, this balance has given me more time to think. My anxiety has heightened. Especially at night. It’s devastating and exhausting. But I try to push myself the more next day and experience more… so in a way I’m thankful for that anxiety… but most of the time, I resent it. Hopefully on April 13^th, I’ll have found some remedies or some help.

·      

Either tomorrow (if I get the opportunity) or Wednesday… I’ll be taking part in a special random act of kindness. But that’s a secret I’m not ready to share.

http://8tracks.com/merissagladys/10-veuve Here is the playlist. 

x Mer

My Insecurities are Weight

Never have I ever put together most of my insecurities in a written format. This is just a little skeleton of words I hope to continue writing and adding to in the future. 

I'm sure there isn't one soul in this world that doesn't possess any insecurities. We're all insecure about one thing at least. Me? I'm insecure about everything and anything. So let's just put it out there, yeah? I mean, I have a distinct nose, my teeth are crooked, I'm pretty much half blind and to be honest, one of my eyes... it's lazy sometimes. My skin isn't perfect, I've got scars and scratches and dark patches. I've got short eyelashes that refuse to flutter every time a man walks by. Cause these scars are stars that are constellations that are black holes that suck in information. These scars are stories and histories and childhood memories. My skin is a carcass that protects the divine within. And my eyes? My eyes are fucking boss. I only need one to see the world and I can see beyond what people see. I can see goodness. I can see depth. I can drown you with these eyes, but I can also let you float. Eyes that let you flow, eyes that let you grow, eyes that let you know... that I love you. Sure one of them is lazy sometimes, but I sure as hell am not. My teeth, my crooked teeth are the consequences of a small mouth but that doesn't prevent me from speaking huge words, big words, meaningful fucking words from my pure big ass heart. This heart that can break so easily only because I can love so well. This nose, this damn distinct nose. I can smell the sweetness of grace from miles away. I can smell danger before it happens and potentially save a life. My eyebrows are uneven too but fuck that, at least they're clean alright? And people say we grow hair where it's not supposed to be? Do you think I can control that shit? If it's not supposed to grow there, why is it growing there then? Are you serious right now? If my leg hair grows, it has nothing to do with you. That shit keeps me warm anyways so don't you dare comment on what makes me comfortable. Ha. See that's the beauty. So you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry that this is what I have to show to the world. I'm sorry that... that's all you see. I may not be the prettiest girl around but damn am I fucking beautiful. But if pretty is all what y'all pay attention to... I don't wanna be. So yes, yes, insecurities... they are weight. They are weight that makes you stronger. They are deadlifts, they are squats, it is poetry, it is music, it is art, it are... whatever the fuck you do that makes you strong. It is resistance. These are my mother's features, my father's features, my grandma's, my grandpa's, my ancestors beyond. So don't you dare pick on mine. Be respectful. You are the perfect temple for a unique love. You. Are. A. Legend.  

Flaming June

Flaming June by Sir Frederic Leighton; oil on canvas 47inx47in 

I'm probably going to butcher the way I truly depict this painting, please tolerate so. I am not the best at critiques; I don't consider this a critique, simply, my thoughts put into a string of phrases about one of the many lovely things I've stumbled upon. I found this painting to be quite a medial perspective of many opposites (of which I will further explain in depth). The first time my eyes ever fell upon this piece I was in complete awe and I was unsure what I was in awe about. Nonetheless, it became one of my favourites. Thank you Sir Frederic Leighton.

The longer I observe this painting, I can say that it is a progression of quietness to loudness. The stillness and chaos mingle with each other smoothly. The crumples in the clothing, the linens (I believe), the hair, are all wholly part of something simple: sleep and rest in a mercurial form. Leighton's vibrant choice of a clementine orange as the predominant colour works well in this piece. It leaves an impression of balance. Something different, something cheeky. Although most of the painting consists of warm colours, the hints of blues and greens make a tremendous contrast.

Innocence and provocativeness. The intention here is that the woman is not suggesting seduction, but her entire being is seductive. Her innocence, coy and peace induces a tenacious type of seduction. With the help of her blush and her transparent clothing exposing the breast in such an innocent manner brings a sense of sweet eroticism. You are in between two temptations: to explore her or to leave her in slumber and enjoy the endeared composition. The glow and the countless ripples that flow and tide around her natural curves in such a unique, curled position, like a child's, is one of the several reasons I could not look away at this. She is tempting, dreamy, and irresistible. The way she's radiantly "flaming" in this droopy manner can be somewhat comparable to Salvador Dali's, The Persistence of Memory. She is both.

Realistic and ethereal. The position is realistic as well as the situation. However, the way that it is presented reflects an ethereal perspective. Although there is depth, we cannot tell exactly the textures of the painting's contents: the linen, the plant, the frames, etc. This such smoothness suggests the cross between real life and the afterlife; heaven and earth, lust and love. I think that's what is genuinely unique: it is both.

She elegantly imposes "you're all that's safe, you're all that's warm," therefore, she oozes with comfort. I adore the outline of her body and the use of energetic colours to create a tranquil atmosphere. Incorporating opposites to constitute a collection of unusual and contemporary affections. Isn't art wonderful?

Now, if only I could look as sumptuous as Flaming June when I'm asleep... *soupir*

Yours,
Mer. XO

Oh Sweet Melancholy

I started the year the same as I ended the last: alone.

I woke up to a shiver. At least this time, it wasn't due to a nightmare. The air was icier than usual in my room and for a second I thought I was breathing in my own cold blood. I smelled loneliness. The small of my back was exposed so I let my blanket absorb me whole. But like I said, the air was icier than usual, so I decided to pull back my shield and exposed my face and body to the light and endure Mount Everest. I stared at my window for a bit wondering what everyone else was doing. Probably getting kisses and hugs and warm greets about how much they mattered to people. Not me. I guess I deserve it, though. I swiftly brushed that thought aside, pulled my hair back, and thought... "What song should I play?" I resulted with You and Me by Matthew Barber, of course. So I wallowed in my knitted goodness for half an hour with the song on repeat looking around my room. My photos on the wall, the messiness of my bookshelf and hidden things that have fallen to the back of it. I decided I'd clean it up later and get rid of all the filth I didn't need that was slowly piling up. I also wanted to take a hiatus from social media... delete everything. But somehow, I don't think it'd be possible for me as it is a personal storage. I rarely use it for its true purpose of socializing, so I thought, maybe one day I'll forget it's fraud meaning and just do it. Can you tell it's always a battle between my two opposite minds? I have yet to tame them.

I swung my legs so they were dangling off the bed. Dizzy. I closed my eyes and exchanged air with the snow of my room. I felt like a slob wearing oversized men's clothing for the past week. Still exhausted, my weak fingertips had no control as I made tons of clatter in the kitchen downstairs. My hands shook as the plates did on our onyx marble counter. There were plenty of leftovers from last night that I could have eaten but I decided on samosas for breakfast. I brewed some coffee and saw the evidence of evaporation thicker than ever. I told you it was cold. I watched it and craved for warmth. Baths usually suffice when I'm looking for something to fulfill the need and longing of someone's arms around me. It's funny, because I'm not a "huggy" person. I don't like hugs, but it's a biological need that I cannot deny. I slowly ate to silence and the slight scraping of ceramic against ceramic, downing my coffee.

Honey and lavender baths with a bit of passionfruit. Some people say that baths are unhygienic, that we're bathing in our own filth. I enjoy it. I mean, when else can you enjoy bathing in your own filth? There's something about seeing your naked flesh submerged underwater that's relaxing. You bathe in your own dirt, and filth, and sins, and vices, and it's okay. Because it's yours. It's unfolded before you as you cleanse the deadness off. You know how it's harder to walk or move under water? I feel that's how my life is like. Like I'm living under water. Submerged, and ultimately, gasping for a breath. It's that feeling when you're slowly being pulled by the water as you try to pull yourself out. Like tug of war. And so I was bathing in metaphors. Water. The very element that can swallow me towards an endless bottom or lift me back to shore. Something that can kill me, but also necessary for vitality. How strange it was to me.

I got out and kind of analyzed my naked body. For once. I would always pass my the mirror afraid of the monster I would see. Myself. Something pulled me to look today, though. I just looked at each part of me through the foggy reflection... breathed... dried off... breathed again. There will come a time where someone will see me naked. They will see all the angles of me that is impossible for me to see myself. That terrifies me to shreds because I am already not okay with the parts that I am able to see. Maybe they'll like something about me I never knew existed... or maybe that's something they'll despise. I shivered not knowing how that would end, if the time came. I slipped on a bralette and a chunky sweater and yoga pants, classic.

I turned my speakers on and played one of my playlists... "I'm sorry if I smothered you" played in the back as I dusted my shelves. Organized my books. Made the bed. Threw out older parts of me. You can tell a lot about me by my room and even my bookshelf alone, I thought. But I don't think that it's obvious enough for people. A lot of people that have ever entered my room take a glance and say... "nice room". But this is me. Is that all I am? Is that all I deserve? I wish people asked more about the things in my room and what they mean to me. But I guess that's my hopeless romantic speaking. I also unwrapped my hidden canvas because today, I will paint. I will get lost and bring myself back. Then I'll do it all over again.

I decided to check my phone. I haven't charged it in three days. I don't find a use for a phone to be honest, except for emergencies. Nobody really talks to me anyways. But for the first day of 2015, I didn't want to talk to anybody. This sweet melancholy is mine.

Happy New Year.

Yours, Mer. XO