Every one I know has been asking if I’m excited. I nod my head and give a smile and say yes. But to say I’m excited is actually lying because the truth is I haven’t wrapped my head around it yet.  My mind has bursts of fast paced moments (when I am anxious) and then there’s mostly the slow languid thoughts that take me a few hours or days to have the gravity of events sink in.  Up to today, it feels like I am just going for an extended vacation. 

Yet, when I really think hard and something clicks in my head that I am being with  B for good then I start feeling  unexplained glee. Like having a really really good secret and you’re the only one who knows what it is. Everything else feels surreal. 

I have anticipated this day since the day I met him. Every fiber of my being has been screaming to be close to him since the day I realized I love him. And now it is here. I am just minutes away. Yes, you must understand that unexplainable glee I feel and why it feels surreal. Because there is no words to contain the emotions I feel. 

The diagnosis given to me by the doctor at the Mental Health Services clinic last Monday was something  not new to me. All these years I have known that I have been living with Borderline Personality Disorder. I first came upon this disorder when I was dating a guy who had a medical background of some sort (don't ask me what as I have long forgotten already) and he said after a few dates that I was "difficult to handle" and I should consider seeking help for my BPD. I remember though that I felt shock then rage for what he told me not realizing that he was right all along. My friends started noticing my self-inflicted pains, my moods that swung like a pendulum, and then they finally sent me off to a shrink when I failed in an overdose..

Let me tell you, it was an "a-ha!" moment when I finally found out I have BPD. I felt a sense of relief that finally I am able to understand why I do what I do and why I think the way I do. Why it was hard to make friends and keep relationships. Why did I push people but inside I want them to stay. How I can feel such deep love yet be consumed by profound rage simultaneously. And it helped me see why I cut myself. I was able to move past the desire to harm myself in order to feel something. But the depression, anxiety, the  black and white thinking, the emotions the emotions the damn emotions stayed. I was starting to be better in keeping relations but at the same time I know that I was just hiding from them how bad I was because I didn't want them to judge me. If they knew how bad I really am, then I'm certain they will make fun of me and leave.

There's the stigma that come with the knowledge of being afflicted with a mental illness. Mental illness runs in my mother's side and I remember how they mocked my uncle who seemed to have lost his marbles. I didn't want to be defined by what I have so I thought if I worked hard enough and I become nice enough then people will start liking me and I can pass as a "normal" person. Most of all, no one needs to know that I have BPD. No one.

There are no secrets that time does not reveal. No secrets that can be kept from the people we love. After being with  B for more than than three years, the real D started seeping through the façade I have created. We fought more often and my insecurities were getting the best of me. Getting married only made it worse as I realized there is no turning back, I become a sitting duck to pain and rejection in case he cheats on me or realizes I am crazy and leaves for someone better. When I am most rational I see how I was recently irrational and I know that  B is slowly wondering where was the vibrant, confident, laughing woman he fell in love the first time.

And that was why I sought help. Now I am ready to face the skeletons in my closet and exorcise the ghosts of my past. I know it is not easy. I know there is no cure. I know that medication will not work (as I've tried it before). It's not going to be cheap also but I am hopeful that I will be better and I can live a life not burdened by so much emotions. I wish though that  B will not get tired of me and that he will develop the necessary skills to support me. And I hope he won't call me 'crazy'.

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For more reading about BPD:

• Dialetical Behavior Therapy (DBT) for Borderline Personality Disorder
• My Wife is Not Her [Borderline Personality] Disorder
• The Mystery of Borderline Personality Disorder

Courage, they say,  is not the absence of fear , but the triumph over it. 

If you have been following my blog, then I am pretty certain you have a general feeling already that I am not “all right” up there.  I’ve probably been dropped too much when I was a baby that I am easily suspicious and afraid of being hurt. It does not help also that I have always carried in me a feeling of abandonment and neglect from my parents.  I must confess that if I were to judge myself critically, I can say I am pretty mental.  Mental enough to admit even to myself that I want my madness to stop.

This is not an epiphany that came to me in the middle of night. I have known for more than a decade that despite the mental strength I possess, parts of me have been scarred so badly from emotional trauma but were not given time to heal before new wounds were inflicted on it again thus leaving my brain so broken. I  had wished that the trauma and the anxiety that goes with it will diminish over time or I will out grow the fears and the pain but it hasn’t and now it’s something I have to face.

Facing this has not been easy. It has been months now that I have been contemplating of going to a mental health doctor and all because after each fight I had with  Bit made me see how irrational I am with my jealousy, fears, suspicions and doubts. If I was able to cut off my relationship before it gets to the point of no return well now that I am married I am not able to do that anymore. Now, I have to man up to the job and get my act straight because this is what marriage is. I love my  Band I will everything it takes to make him happy. He is one of the reasons why I want to be better.

So come Monday I get to see a mental doctor. Get my diagnosis and hopefully get a treatment. Maybe just maybe if I have a name of what I have I can understand myself better and when I am rational I can train my mind to avoid situations that trigger my defense mechanisms and when I am in the thick of things I can pull my mind out of the rut that makes me cruel and insensitive.

There are so many instances when I want to blog about something that has caught my attention in the news or during the day at work or a conversation I had with some people.

But the rush of emotions I feel blocks out all the words in my head... You know like running away from a tsunami but the wave eventually hits you and you are tossed around... That's how my feelings become that brings me in a bad kind of edge... Faint and breathless.

Instead of blogging I stand up from my Mac and walk away so I can escape these horrible feelings which is what I will be doing now. 

And there goes another moment I missed out in making a post.

[

After reading about how sequestration has affected the Army in this news.

Prior to my trip to Montreal for my immigration interview I have been surfing for places to eat in the area near the hotel. When eating out I tend to gravitate towards food that has superb taste, regional authenticity if I am eating country-specific fare, and price that is affordable and reasonable. While I crave my usual fast-food, I enjoy trying out dishes and exploring the diversity of a place.

One of the restaurants that have caught my curiosity is Il Focolaio which is the same block as my hotel. Their name is from the Italian language meaning “hot bed” or “fireplace” which is apt as they use a brick oven and firewood to roast their pizza made from  scratch. This place is reminiscent to a restaurant in Boracay my family and I would order pizza from which made me want to try it all the more. 

The night I arrived in Montreal was cold and when I got to my hotel room I almost didn’t want to to go out and eat dinner as my feet were killing me (the shoes I borrowed from my room mate was an inch shorter than my feet). But then I realized I have to seize the opportunity because I don’t know when will I ever go back to Montreal again or try out a brick oven baked pizza. So I bundled up and winced my feet in the damnable boots and took the elevator downstairs. I brought with me my Google map and I was surprised that the restaurant was less than ten meters from the hotel. 

The restaurant was not busy, to my relief, and the guy who was bussing tables told me to just pick a spot where I want to sit. I sat in the middle of the restaurant near the bar and  oven. The oven was not very distinct as there was a  partition that the staff use to prep the pizza. The lady who gave me the menu was really nice and she was prompt in service (it helped that there weren’t a lot of customers). I ordered  the Al Prosciutto and a blond beer. While waiting for my food I noticed staff who brought pizza bags for delivery and I think it’s wonderful that they have delivery service. 

And then finally my food came…  A pizza perfection just for me! I took a picture which was torture in itself as I just want to grab a wedge and stuff it in my mouth. This is definitely one restaurant I would love to go back over and over again.

Finally, I am cozy in my hotel room in downtown Montreal. It took me 14 hours to get here from British Columbia and my feet are killing me. Yet the next few hours will determine the real outcome of the wait that has lasted eleven months.

A few hours from now I am going to face a US Consul in the Embassy. He or she will be interviewing me and determine if I am fit to be awarded a visa to move to the USA and be with B . 

We did our paperwork, we've submitted all our requirements, I have read online forums to mentally prepare myself, I've checked double checked and triple checked the mandatory requirements. I am ready. But you know me, I am stretched inside and ready to snap from the mental stress and nervousness that I am feeling.

Everyone says I'll pass. But my twisted brain refuses to accept this. Yes I may pass, but there is a possibility I will fail it too. No one really knows the final answer until the Consul says it tomorrow. And so I sit here in the hotel bed waiting for my  B to come home from work so I can pillow talk with him and hopefully sleep soon. I am mentally reviewing the steps I have to do tomorrow and visualize the inside of the embassy so I am able to complete the task as soon as I can. I have a plane to catch back to BC so I am hoping to finish the interview by 9 AM. 

Tomorrow is the big day. I feel the competitive side of me push the pessimism and fear aside and I see the words form in my head now... "Bring it on!”

February is the so-called month of love and in a couple of days it’ll be Valentines day. Whatever. Right now I don’t really care.

Yes, I am blogging again. They say communication is the key to a successful relationship and I know I should be telling all these things to  B but there is no  B to tell it to as he has decided to turn his back on me and sleep rather than stay up a few more minutes and listen and assure me. But because communication is the key to a successful relationship I will still “communicate”, even if I am just communicating in written form filling the blankness of my journal with words he decided not to hear.

Many times I have heard him say how I don’t blog anymore. What he doesn't understand is that in the past instances that I wrote about him in a not so positive way he reacted poorly that I felt I had to defend my writing which in principle I need not do. And so after those instances, I felt the need to censor myself from my own online journal to avoid hurting him. I cannot write about things that matter to me, I cannot vent any form of ill feelings towards him online, I had to keep it all inside again. And without any form of release, my mind is again frayed of unhealthy thoughts. And since I’ve kept them bottled up for so long,my mind is so exhausted I will have to see a shrink again.

What my mind cannot wrap itself around (and why I am upset) is why my own husband puts up with his ex-wife so much. And here are just some of the examples:

1. He takes care of her son (son from the husband who she was cheating with when  Band her was still married) often. Bringing him to the apartment and treating him like his own son.
2. Allowed her to stay in the apartment he lives in to the point that she folded his clothes.
3. Stays on a phone call with her even though she is not talking about their own children anymore.
4. He tells me that I should give her a chance before I judge her (the ex-wife).
5. Let her text him very late at night over trivial things.

He says I get jealous irrationally. He says I don’t trust him. Perhaps. But then he doesn’t really try to prevent me from being jealous because he never put her in place. He says, "I have to put up with her until our son turns 18". And what of me?!? Am I always the one to put up with both of them?!? Am I always the one to understand?!? Is it really gonna hurt his custody with the kids if he tells her to be considerate and text when it’s not late at night? Will her ex prevent him from seeing his children if he tells her he has to go if she is just raving about what his friend’s son said to their son? Will she ask for more financial support if he tells her to not touch his clothes? NO. But he doesn’t say anything. Even though I asked him nicely or I asked him rudely or I asked him brusquely to tell her to be considerate he doesn’t do it. WHY? I FUCKING DO NOT KNOW WHY!!! Maybe he’s afraid he’d rock the boat. Maybe he still got the hots for her. Maybe, despite what he says, he’s just in denial and is still in love with her. And so my mind goes on overdrive and then I imagine myself moving to the States to a man who probably doesn’t really love me but wanted someone to take care of him and then I'll end up the rest of my life second best forever trying to be the only woman to my husband's eyes and heart but it will never happen. 

I know, these are evil thoughts. But lately it's getting harder and harder not to succumb to my fears since my own husband shuts me down and ignores how I feel expecting me to suck it up and deal with it. Soon I will get to the point when I will have to pack and move to the States. But the way things are lately it feels like I am moving to a prison sentence full of misery and regret instead of a life of bliss and happiness.

If he just even tried one time, ONE TIME! to tell her to shut her face when she starts hammering about stuff my husband shouldn’t even have to deal with. If he just even try one time, ONE FUCKING TIME to tell her to lay off on the texting or calling late at night over things that can wait the next day. Then I guarantee you I will not even bitch about this. But him not telling her to shut her face is not the end of it, because he allows her do this and then whines at me at why she does it over and over. SERIOUSLY!!! Duh. She’s your ex then fucking deal with her. If you aren’t going to then suck it up and don’t come to me looking for sympathy because you ain’t going to get any but my anger which he doesn’t deal with as well.

I’m not a saint. I try to understand his relationship with his ex but I can only understand so much. They say communication is key but he refuses to acknowledge what I say and doesn’t care about what I need. He gets mad when I get mad and jealous. Well, if he doesn’t want me to be jealous over things he could prevent and control, I’ll just blog my anger away and maybe one of these days or weeks or months or years I will be callous enough I wouldn’t even give a damn if he slept with her.

 | V is for vent

Argh!

I am desperately trying to add my recipes in my blog in a separate page so I don’t have to maintain two separate blogs and also not pay for a real website. 

But I am failing. Like badly.

I may just have to close this site and open a foodie blog. But on the other hand I like having this blog to rage to and be inappropriate without people firing me or trying to get me arrested. 

Oh I don’t know.

My belated birthday gift from  B came today.

It’s one of the best toys a girl like me can have. And before any dirty mind starts imagining I’m talking about different toys. Let me post a picture of what my  B gave me">…

Now, isn’t that a thing of beauty?

The passing of veteran actor and comedian Rodolfo "Dolphy" Quizon made me pause this morning. 

Another pillar in the Philippine entertainment industry is gone. But with his passing he is not leaving a void for he has left a lasting legacy to the Filipino people. A legacy of laughter and great movies.

We have a guest. Not just any guest who we wanna kick out after three days of staying but a special guest we want to stay forever.

J is in town visiting. He is  B’s oldest son. Let me clarify that ---  B’s oldest son is 15 (turning 16 on December) and he lives in a different State with his mom but every now and then or at least once a year B flies him to his State and spends some time with him. This month is that time of the year when he is in town and we get to spend some time with him (Although that last statement may seem confusing to common folk, I want to clarify that  B makes it a point that the children recognize and treat me as if I am there even though I am not physically with them). It’s a rare event when all three kids spend it  B with under the same roof.

The first two years that he did this we were still starting our relationship and I was still learning the ropes. His two younger children spends every other weekend with him and our relationship has evolved from the novelty to common. The two children are so used to me that they look for me, call at me, and most times ignore me too. One of the things I have learned is divorced parents have it different when it comes to parenting compared to parents who are together and live together under the same roof. Divorced parents and parents who are physically separated to their child or children (because of work or duty) often times over compensate because of the guilt they somewhat experience for not being able to to be there for their child. Over compensation can be in the form of lax in discipline or over abundance of material things. Perhaps it is my Asian upbringing combined with the military training and my masters educated parents but as I got to observe divorced parents and OFW parents form of child rearing I feel somehow that that aspect is something to be worked on.

Forgive me if I seem judgmental, in the contrary, I have utmost respect for divorced and OFW parents as well as children of OFWs and divorced parents. Due to the challenge of trying to discipline, be supportive, guide, instill values to their child despite the absence of the other parent and their limited resources the single parent attempts to give more, care more, acknowledge more, value the children more, and even love more than most do. One parents attempting to fulfill the role and responsibility meant for two people makes the word “parent” mean so much more.  

Due to trying to fulfill the role meant for two people, being a single parent is difficult and at times some things fall thru the cracks. Some misbehaviors are not corrected, some values not instilled, some attitudes are left unchecked until these children are too old to be corrected or accept discipline. When me and my separated and divorced friends discuss this they always comment “you don’t understand us because you aren’t a parent”. I scoff at this blind accusation because even though I am not a parent (i.e. bore and raised my own child) it doesn’t mean I am not entitled to an opinion. I know being a single parent is hard, there are some things I recognize B cannot do such as cook the children nutritious food or ensure their clothes are coordinated and not wrinkled but there are some things that I can expect from him such as ensuring the children do not watch TV all day (and night) or they do not shout at each other whenever they fight (which is OMG almost every hour, I think).

It took me some long weeks of thinking and few times of fighting with  B before I was able to understand that most single parents struggle with the fear that perhaps they are being a bad parent to their kids because they aren’t with their child(ren)’s mom or dad and some parents fear that when the children have grown up they’d blame their parents for not being there for them when they were growing up. I don’t say I understand they psychology behind a single parent’s parenting methods. But one thing I’ve learned from  B is that he tries to be a good parent to the kids as best as he could, and he may somewhat be a pushover but with me in his life now he is able to curb this side of him. On the flip side, I’m learning to take it easy and be more confident in the parenting styles I am am comfortable with. 

With the things I’ve learned since I’ve been with B, a part of me now wants to “over compensate” by asking  Bto teach him to drive a car, buying him some games and clothes. We want to make up now for that one year he was away from us and try to make this vacation memorable. While we do realize we cannot turn back time or buy his affection, we can’t help but try to make this trip special and hopefully he would be given a chance to stay with us permanently.

A month after  B and I got married, he applied for my I-130 to the US Department of State so I can move to the US and be with him.

It's been a long time before we got to that part. I still remember the time when we first met online and decided to be with each other exclusively though we haven't met yet. Then there were the times we've fought so much that I thought we were going to separate. Her sister told him I was only after a green card. My sister was apprehensive of me being with an American as they're notorious for being too cocky. We were both sure of loving each other, even though it wasn't always expressed it was a given that what we have is special and one that can last a lifetime. Until my Canadian Immigration papers came in the mail almost turned things around...

I want to be a Canadian Citizen and I have to wait at least 4 more years before I can be one. Now let me be clear and write that being a Canadian citizen is not a lifetime dream neither is it an achievement I have been planning ever since I was young. I moved to Canada in 2008 and even when I was processing my immigration papers I wasn't certain being a citizen is something I wanted because it wasn't something I needed. And then I slowly fell in love with the place, the culture, the government processes. In this country you are valued, you are taken cared for, you are supported, and as long as you are legally entitled to be here and you are law-abiding it is easy to find job(s), get training, and achieve your goals. The recent recession is not something that affected the Canadian economy, so instead of scrounging for places to work, there is actually a shortage of manpower to get the job done.

Months before we decided to get married on a specific date, I talked to  B and told him about my desire to pursue my citizenship and because of the length of time to achieve it he didn't seem to thrilled with the idea. He was so bummed that he talked about postponing everything but the way it sounded to me was he was breaking things up. That bad. As I listened to him I had to make a decision right then and there... to stay in Canada and pursue this citizenship or to marry him move to the US and attempt to keep my permanent resident status in Canada. It was the thought of days without  B...long hours and weeks and years without the man I love... what is the point of being a citizen here if I lose the one I love? So I told him, I'll move to the US instead but I refuse to be a US citizen.

While most Filipinos vie to be a US citizen and they think I am crazy for refusing to be one, I can relate more to the diversity of Canadians and their attitudes. Also, I am afraid that when I move to the US instead of being able to make my dream of having my own restaurant/pastry shop into a reality I'd be stuck again working at some dead end job because of the recession in the US. These are fears I haven't shared to B because I have seen how loyal he is to his country and voicing my concerns might hurt his manly feelings. For all intents and purposes, I am moving to the US because I have a duty and my duty is to be with my B. I write these words with a sense of pride because I want to be beside  B and build a home with him. 

So now we wait for the decision of my I-130. I have written this post to put my fears to rest and be optimistic of my future. I take comfort in the wisdom I learned when I left my parents house at 16, when I took my first inter-province bus ride alone, when I first learned to drive a car, when I first moved to Canada, and the first time I saw  B and knew that change was about to come --- change is inevitable and I have the power to choose how I feel and how I will deal with my situation. The great part about this is unlike my trip to Canada in 2008, I have  Bwho is going to be with me for as long as we both live and that alone makes my fears all in vain.

Today is my 33rd birthday. And because I have Facebook, I have been greeted by fifty-six people already, quite a feat prior to my having a social networking account! I wonder what would happen to birthdays and all those special holidays and life events if Facebook was not invented by Mark Zuckerberg. 

Because I am Filipino, I dread birthdays. It's that day in a year where you are coerced to treat your friends because it's your birthday... as if you owe them for your birth thus "treat them". I think that is the stupidest thing ever! First of all, if they are really my friends, then they should have the balls to treat me instead of the other way around after all it is MY birthday. Second, not everyone has the financial capability to treat all their friends. And lastly, if you can only afford to treat say 3 of your ten friends how will you choose the three without offending the rest. So because of this stupid mentality, I have opted to hide on my birthday and do whatever I wanna do.

Now I am in Canada and the norm for birthdays is different by a hundred eighty degrees. People pay for your dinner or dessert or at least pay for their own meals. And if you get to be invited in a house party you gotta bring your own liquor and a gift. The least you can do is get birthday card to the one who's invited you. 

But I don't hassle people with a party at the middle of the week. My husband isn't here to bring me out to dinner (and pay for it). I dislike the idea that they are also going to think about a present or a card or be inconvenienced by that day in my life that marks me a year older. If tables were turned I don't mind getting them a gift, but because I am in the receiving end I choose to keep things low. This birthday I'll stay in the house and patter around. 

In a few hours this will be over. I'm a year older and hopefully I'll be a year wiser.

I love my little hole in the Internet.

Even though it’s been …let’s see…  "too long" seems to be the appropriate number. And to answer a few questions: No, I have not conceived and given birth with the amount of time I haven't blogged and Yes, I did go thru some life changing events.

Believe me when I say, I feel guilty for not blogging. It's like forgetting-to-pick-up-your-own-kid-in-school-guilty that a lot of instances I have thought of shutting down this blog coz I can be a coward sometimes. And  Bhasn't been helpful either as he never ceases to point at the obvious whenever he checks on my blog. It's not as if I have bajillion followers who go to this puny space in the world wide web to get their daily fix of bitchy me, but even if I know it's probably just a handful of people who check my blog and read my rants posts either lacks the passion to write most things that goes thru my life or I tend to protect my privacy so much.

Anyway. To give a run down of the things that happened the past nine months here is a list of what happened (in no particular order):

|I got married!!! Yay! Got hitched to my best friend  Bso I am now a Missus! It's still something I am getting used to since were still physically separated by a huge land mass. 

|I am now a Canadian immigrant. That was something of a close call actually. I didn't know that I had to stay single until I do my landing in Canada or they'll cancel my immigrant status. God is gracious in my life though and I was able to process my landing 2 days before our wedding.

|Celebrated Christmas. I have a surrogate Filipino family (they're actually the parents of my landlord) and this past Christmas was so far the best Christmas I've celebrated with them since I've moved in this place. Plus, I learned to bake Ube Macapuno Cake. 

|No Philippine trip.  B and I was really hoping to go to the Philippines after our wedding but since I had to process my landing and I wasn't sure if my passport was going to make it in time for our vacation, we opted to postpone our trip until after I move in with him.

|Lost two friends. One was because I chose not to deal with the drama. The second was because she didn't treat me as friend... it was a one way street.

|Moved to a different store. Ah, that's all I can say about work.

|Restarted an herb garden. Just five herb  varieties this time and primarily on those I really use. I am just confused with my sage though... coz the leaves don't look like anything in the pictures I see online.

So there it is... the past nine months (without the stress). My birthday is happening in two days. I'm stoked! This year so much has happened and so much more things are bound to... I just hope I'd have the tenacity to take time and blog about it.

I have lost count of the number of times I’ve lost my temper and become hissy at  B. It’s not something I’m proud of and every time I am able to rationally look at the situation I get so ashamed of losing my temper and being hissy I wish the world would just open up and swallow me. At times I wish he never met me too coz he’d save himself a lot of pain if he and I were never together. I feel as though I am constantly struggling to be better or cool or be laid back and every time, I lose it.

My old mentor having noticed my anger management issues once pulled me aside and ask, “What do you gain when you lose your temper?” and I said “Nothing”. And I think he wanted to teach me something with that talk but it didn’t helped much. I was still as Nazi as I was the first time and I still give scathing sarcastic comments when I get aggravated. But lately I’ve come to realize that my answer wasn’t true at all. I don’t gain “nothing” when I lose my temper; I actually gain a lot of self-guilt, promote hate and mistrust, and worse of all I break apart every good thing from my relationships. 

I wrote a few weeks ago how I try to work on my behavior first before I feel any feelings, and I tell you it’s HARD! Most times for me, feelings are fucking nuisance. I get offended with the slightest joke, irritated when things aren’t done the way it’s suppose to be done, and feel rejected when I don’t get attention. It’s sad really, and I worry at times he’d get fed up with my childish and evil ways he’d quit and just leave. And when that worry starts to gnaw my insides a part of me says “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did leave you.” Yeah, you can call me psycho.

But what I don’t write is when the tables have turned, when  Bbecomes hissy and nothing I do or say makes him happy. It’s like he’s tired of sunshine and wants some male bonding time. When the slightest concern or question causes him irritation creases his forehead with a wrinkle and he gives tart replies. They are once in a blue moon days, but they do happen and when they do I look at him like a deer caught on headlights and I just want to make a run for it before he hits me or something. I’ve learned to watch for the signs (cussing out loud, banging the mouse on the desk, more cussing, a firmness in his voice tonality, still more cussing, and his face looks like a cop who caught me doing something illegal) and I’ve learned to take a deep breathe and let it roll. It’s nothing personal, it’s just the way things are in any relationship.

So now that I've come to face my shortcomings and correct my flaws, I've come to realize that it's not just changing one's self and being better but also accept the person for who they are and giving them the best even though we're treated poorly. In any relationship it's not just enough to say "I love you", we have to live it and work on it. 

"Opinions are like testicles... 

If you hit them hard enough it doesn't matter how many you've got." 

~ Varric, DA II

So lately I’ve been spending a lot of time with my Xbox playing Dragon Age Origins, the expansion pack and Dragon Age II. I know that for some it was a lame way to use up most of summer but hey, whatever floats your boat. 

Like any role-playing game (RPG), DA makes you choose a character and personality and you try to stick to it. You can romance your companions, sleep around non companions, be friends or rivals, push them away so they leave you, and ultimately after all the quests you get to the climax beat the bad guy and try to save the day. But then there are dialogues and gossiping among your companions. And those are the things that I actually look forward to in the game. Most of the time they fight amongst each other. But then they also spend a lot of time looking out for each other’s back. Silly as it may sound but I take it personally if one of my companions betray the team. And if you hurt ‘em, I’ll kick your butt.

Let me say though that I never expected to learn any life lessons from those games...

|Wynne taught me what leadership is about 

|Alistair taught me the value of helping out family as well as looking out for myself

|Morrigan taught me that being a bit evil is not that bad

|Leilaina made me appreciate beautiful things

|Zevran has taught me second chances 

|Sten made me realize that we must learn to be contented too

|Oghren has taught me to laugh from the belly

B thinks my game is slutty, I guess because of the romance options in the game. But that’s fine by me, because a good beer and a laugh makes the dragons worth killing in the end.

For so many years I've lived by myself. Having left my parents at an early age (because of my hard headedness) I have gotten used to paying my own bills, moving to different places, cooking meals for one, Christmases and birthdays alone. The loneliness over the years isn't something that goes away but over time I've learned to cope and if the sad carols I hear move me to tears I tell myself at least my family is still complete, we just can’t be together.

Despite my age though, there is still a little girl in me who wants to be taken care of by my parents. I know I can’t get it from them anymore and even then there was some sort of awkwardness between my parents and me. I love them but with them I have to be always strong, and smart, independent, and self-sufficient. And most times I get tired of being the woman they expect me to be. Most times, I just want to be plain old me.

So I suppose it’s a blessing living with my two older Filipino couple. They’re the parents of my landlord who offered that I move upstairs after a year and a half of discord with the Filipinas I used to live with. Initially I didn’t talk to them because I had a feeling that they have heard bad things about me and the hurt I felt from my previous room mates was still fresh in my heart. Eventually I started getting to know them. They generously offered food even beyond the usual “kain tayo, Dar”. And as weeks turned to months our bond became stronger, I eat with them, cook for them, clean house and do errands for them and they do the same for me. I became the daughter they never had and they became the parents I wish I have.

It’s going to be a year since I’ve first moved in with them in a couple of weeks. I feel that I’ve never lived with anyone else but them. Our loneliness living in Canada has drawn us to find companionship with each other. Perhaps in the near future I will move away from here and finally be with  B. It’s not something I dwell on though, because as much as my heart is excited the sadness of separating from Nanay & Tatay pinches my heart. 

A few days ago, I watched as my manager was about to get another pair of the least selling product to stock her area, and even before her gloved fingers touched it I told her not to get it explaining production is slow and I want to keep wastage to a minimum. She looked at me incredulously and in a joking manner retorted, “You control everything!” I grinned and said, “I know. If I didn’t you’d be fuming about our daily waste”. As I walked away her words still echo in my head. And instead of being angry I felt a confounded sense of validation to her statement. And this validation was met with a realization that my desire to always be in control which used to be my greatest strength has now turned against me.

In one my coaching sessions with my former mentor, he told me that I have a Type A Red (or Choleric) personality. I laughed but asked if it was wrong but felt I’m right. That itself gave proof that I am a Type A Red, a control freak, a perfectionist and worst of all it goes hand in hand with codependency... a boon to any business but a curse to any form of intimate relationship. So a few days ago I started reading on my personality type and below is an excerpt from Wikipedia alone---

Vulnerability

"Control freaks" or "perfectionists"[4] can be seen as defending themselves against inner vulnerabilities, as with the man who was "a dominating control freak because of his mistaken belief that if he wasn't in control, he would re-experience his childhood angst".[5] Such a figure will "cajole, wheedle, pressurise, get 'difficult' all the time, to get his own way. He's always behaving like a puppet-master, tying strings on other people … because he can't bear to be changed himself".[6] Similarly, a woman who 'is not grounded either in her own imagery or her own musculature … finds her identity in power over (sometimes called love of) her body, her family, her friends, her garden … Without that control, she is nobody'.[7] When such a control freak pattern is broken, 'the Controller is left with a terrible feeling of powerlessness … But feeling their pain and fear brings them back to themselves.[8]

Control freaks have been linked to codependents, in the sense that "codependency stems from a deep-rooted fear of abandonment, which leads to an excessive need to control and dominate … to control others because they fear they cannot control themselves".[9] Recovery entails recognising that being "a control freak … kept me in codependency, and pushed people away from me. To grow out of controlling, we learn to be, instead of do".[10]

In terms of personality-type theory, "the Control Freak … is very much a Type A … driven [by a] need to be in control".[11]

Type A

The theory describes a Type A individual as ambitious, aggressive, business-like, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with his or her status, time-conscious, and tightly-wound. People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving "workaholics" who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence.

In his 1996 book, Type A Behavior: Its Diagnosis and Treatment, Friedman suggests that Type A behavior is expressed in three major symptoms: free-floating hostility, which can be triggered by even minor incidents; time urgency and impatience, which causes irritation and exasperation; and a competitive drive, which causes stress and an achievement-driven mentality. The first of these symptoms is believed to be covert and therefore less observable, while the other two are more overt.[3]

Choleric

A person who is choleric is a do-er. They have a lot of ambition, energy, and passion, and try to instill it in others. They can dominate people of other temperaments, especially phlegmatic types. Many great charismatic military and political figures were choleric. They like to be leaders and in charge of everything. They can be very manipulative.

I am citing only one source. And before anyone says I am self-diagnosing and it is unhealthy let me reassure you that it’s all good because the fact of the matter is what I’ve read I can affirm as what I do and how I act and the way I think and feel. Perhaps not all of them are real (such as being brand conscious or saying no to coupons) but I’d say nine out of ten of the information I have searched online is true. Now going back to the discussion on hand, having such a complex personality I want to give kudos to everyone who’s still my friend and moreso to  B who’s never quit on me. I mean really... I am such a spoilsport and anyone who’d be around me would feel so oppressed I’d kill me if I was in a relationship with myself.

I am self-centered and egotistical, I tend to neglect the fact other people have feelings, I am very sensitive to criticism and losing control of a situations revive the skeletons in my closet. I look rude, arrogant, and pushy. I cut off people mid sentence and tend to give ultimatums. And I don’t think I have to state it but since we’re in a ball right now I’ll mention the fact that I have intense anger issues.

Even typing my faults now makes me want to just look for the nearest hole and let the earth eat me up. I mean really! They said 15% of the population has a personality type similar to mine but my question is, how do we live with ourselves?! But being the Type A Red that I am, my motivation has shifted on how to become better. How do you not become an asshole? Since I’ve realized how much of a killjoy I am, it only galvanizes my desire to work on my behaviour first then my feelings. It means I have to learn to chill without a pill, unlearn impatience, let things slide, accept wishy-washy people, give more hugs, smile more. And those are just a few of the things I need to accomplish on a moment by moment basis.

Such hard work! The consolation is at least I realize this now before it’s too late. Personally, the idea of learning to de-stress makes me a bit stressed already. I think my unrolled yoga mat will be a permanent fixture in my room from now on.

The post I wrote early this morning was published using the new Blogger app for iPhone. I wanted to try it and I imagine if a popo watched me walk to work this morning the cop would most likely stop me to check if I’m drunk. Coding at 3 AM while walking in streets lit by a handful of streetlights is something I won’t attempt any time soon.

The good news though is it works. The bad news is it’s not fully functional especially if you’re like me who is anal about aesthetics. Here are some of the features and challenges I had noticed and experienced when I was using it:

• Posts are not arranged on a consecutive order. Perhaps it was based on the date when the app was launched that’s why I notice the dates were all “11-09-09”. Yet even the entries were not arranged from most recent to oldest but a mishmash of very old, very new, and some in between.
• When writing a post and publishing, it will use the generic Times New Roman 12 font in black. To publish on your preferred font, size, and color you need to know a bit of HTML coding. If you want tabs, alignment, create a list, use any italicization you got to code it. Writing a post is like writing the simplest form of email without any embelishments.
• Pictures can be uploaded using your camera or existing photos in your library. I’m not certain though if you can use either/or the front and back camera of the iPhone 4 as I am using a 3GS.
• Unlike the full site, you can’t schedule when you want the post to be publish. You only have three options: 1.) save as a draft; 2.) publish it now; or 3.) delete it permanently.

• It takes an average of a minute for you to save a draft and then see your draft in the full site. That’s not bad.
• Tapping the nifty “B” at the bottom center of the app will bring you to another page where you can see your blog in mobile format. However, it will only display your post entries and any extra columns you have will not show up besides the “About Me” section. There is an option though to go to view the web version without having to open a Safari browser.
• Any post written/embedded in Java will not show (this is an iPhone limitation).
• If you use any java against plagiarism it will be disabled. Meaning if people can’t right click on your blog if they use a browser, using this app they can. But no need to be paranoid. They won’t be able to access your iPhone Blogger app anyway unless for some reason you leave your phone lying around unlocked.
• You can include your location in your post. I don’t use this particular features but it is included.
• Key features not available are: Posting videos, stats, blog settings management, comments moderation, page management. changing template, and layout editing.

Over all, I’d give them a Needs Improvement but would give a B+ on speed. Hopefully the feedback I submitted would be accounted for. Can’t gripe about it though as the app is only 2 days old.