There is nothing permanent except change. I’ve been reflecting about this for quite some time now. Sometimes in lengthy periods, sometimes brief moments when I’m alone. Change. It seems that for the past year or so, the obvious shift in my life were sometimes unexpected, but in the end I’m thankful they happened. I moved to the States when I was seventeen, full of hope that long distance relationships worked, giddy that after almost 12 years, I can finally spend quality time with my mom, who moved to the States when I was young. It wasn’t long before things became different; my hope that LDRs last were shattered, but on the upside I had a solid group of people who loved me unconditionally—something I might have never experienced had I not moved. So in a way, change was okay. I don’t know, really. I think when I clean out my room and I unearth these little momentos of my past life, it forces me to think of those times, albeit good or bad. In the end, what I know now of myself is great. There are moments when I’m unsure about my life and what happens next, but I know that it’ll all connect in due time. You learn that people change; that sometimes the people you once thought of as your closest friend can hurt you in more ways than one, and you can only do so much to keep that relationship. You learn to let them go, not because you want to, but because you need it. I’ve learned that people who bring negativity in their everyday lives are not worth the effort—friends are there to bring you up and support you, not the other way around. I’ve also learned that when all else fails, your family will be there to help you get up. Change is the only permanent thing, we can only hold on to certain things for certain amounts of time. These are some of the things that I’ve unconsciously kept hidden in the darkest corners of my closet. I’ve decided to throw these tangible objects that once were the cause of my happiness, now remnants of memories that have already faded. Spring cleaning really can do a number on you. Maybe I should make this a yearly thing.

There is nothing permanent except change.

I’ve been reflecting about this for quite some time now. Sometimes in lengthy periods, sometimes brief moments when I’m alone. Change. It seems that for the past year or so, the obvious shift in my life were sometimes unexpected, but in the end I’m thankful they happened.

I moved to the States when I was seventeen, full of hope that long distance relationships worked, giddy that after almost 12 years, I can finally spend quality time with my mom, who moved to the States when I was young.

It wasn’t long before things became different; my hope that LDRs last were shattered, but on the upside I had a solid group of people who loved me unconditionally—something I might have never experienced had I not moved. So in a way, change was okay.

I don’t know, really. I think when I clean out my room and I unearth these little momentos of my past life, it forces me to think of those times, albeit good or bad. In the end, what I know now of myself is great. There are moments when I’m unsure about my life and what happens next, but I know that it’ll all connect in due time.

You learn that people change; that sometimes the people you once thought of as your closest friend can hurt you in more ways than one, and you can only do so much to keep that relationship. You learn to let them go, not because you want to, but because you need it. I’ve learned that people who bring negativity in their everyday lives are not worth the effort—friends are there to bring you up and support you, not the other way around.

I’ve also learned that when all else fails, your family will be there to help you get up.

Change is the only permanent thing, we can only hold on to certain things for certain amounts of time.

These are some of the things that I’ve unconsciously kept hidden in the darkest corners of my closet. I’ve decided to throw these tangible objects that once were the cause of my happiness, now remnants of memories that have already faded.

Spring cleaning really can do a number on you. Maybe I should make this a yearly thing.

IT’S OKAY

Whenever I get home and change into pajamas I always look in the mirror and do a check like that scene in Mean Girls where they all line up and pick through all their “flaws.” Mine would always be:

  • thighs too big
  • arms too flabby
  • my hair is an utter waste
  • my stomach has a food baby that doesn’t want to go away

And sometimes I brush those things off, sometimes I just sleep them off because who gives a rat’s ass right? 

But there are days, minutes and moments where I just want to pick everything apart. I just feel so bad about myself that even the most comforting words won’t have any effect on me. Chalk it up to low self-esteem growing up, but when other people start to pick you apart, it hurts. They say don’t worry about it, you’re beautiful, but sometimes it really does hurt. A tiny comment (“You look bigger today”), a big suggestion (“I think you should start exercising because you’re too fat”) or a backhanded compliment, (“You’d look so much prettier if you lost ten or twenty more pounds”) and all my confidence just disappears.

And I really wish I didn’t care. I wish I was one of those girls who believed in themselves that any form of insult that people throw at them would immediately bounce off. I don’t know, maybe this whole self-esteem thing takes time. I keep telling myself it’s okay, it’s okay, you’ll get through this, there are people who love you no matter what.

But on days like this it’s okay to not be okay. 

A Little Stressed Out

I haven’t been updating this Tumblr for a while now aside from the daily Instagram photos, and for February I only reread The Hunger Games and Catching Fire. February wasn’t a good month for reading and Tumblr-ing, I guess. Now that its mid-March, I thought about how my life is right now. Also, I’m trying to put off doing my homework, hehe.

My plate is a wee bit full lately. My classes at school are piling up, and every night work seems too frustrating to even bother anymore. But I keep trekking. I keep my head high and do what I have to do. But sometimes it just doesn’t seem enough.

Flashback to about four days ago at work when I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the people I work with, people who are decades older than me but act like immature four-year olds. I couldn’t take snarky comments anymore. I couldn’t take people noticing every single thing I do. I tried so hard to make sure that I don’t step on anyone but that day, everything was just so shitty that I couldn’t help but cry. I held them for so long, but when that one thing happened, I just burst. 

I feel a lot better now, but sometimes people can be so annoying. But I’ll keep going. I’ll keep my head up high. 

watsoningholmes: watson’s lunch break by *the-view-to-a-kill idk what to feel anymore

watsoningholmes:

watson’s lunch break by *the-view-to-a-kill

idk what to feel anymore

Source: watsoningholmes

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