Daily Page, the First of October

How is it suddenly October? But I like October. I like the idea of Samhain. Of witches and thinning veils between worlds. Of autumn, although we don't have it where I live.

I worked through gritted teeth today. Because it took all the strength and focus I could muster to do the important things at work. There was a learning session, and then a consulting session. And for both I needed the full power of my brain. And while I spoke (I'm thankful at least that I am working from home and online meetings do not require on-cam) I could feel the energy flowing away from the rest of my body to feed my brain. I was speaking with eyes closed, to minimize the energy leak from unnecessary visual stimulation. I was leaning back on my chair to support my back. But you wouldn't be able to tell from my voice which is my "passionate" voice. Apparently the way I speak about my work gives the impression that I am passionate about what I do, and many are carried along with it, or inspired by it, or believe me more because I seemed to believe in what I say.

I guess I do have some level of passion for what I do for work. I like the mental challenges, the problem-solving, the data-gathering, the data-diving, the wrestling with analysis and the crafting of reports that tell stories that sell or shift mindsets or seed transformations. I like the working with words. I like the digging for answers. I like the endless learning. About people, and what they want, why they want, the hows of various lives, the beliefs and meanings and the hills they would die on.

I almost didn't but I did end up running errands today after I wrapped up the work day. First I went to the pet supply store. Then I dropped by a special artisan food shop just to allow myself the treat of a small custard cake

and a bottle of burong hipon. Then a quick visit to the bakery for a whole wheat loaf. Then into the supermarket where I spent more than hour going through a shopping list and reconsidering the items on the list, adding items not on the list, and remembering items that should have been on the list.

It was an hour before I was picked up by Grabcar with my cartload of human supplies plus a wheeled big bag of pet supplies. So I got home at way past 8pm, and I still had to cook dinner. It was 9pm by the time I was able to sit down for dinner with my sister. My dad finished his leftover noodle soup and siopao. The mother, as always, got her food from the table as if getting food from a buffet, and ate at her desk.

I can no longer remember when she started eating at her desk. She stopped joining us at the dining table. In fact she had isolated herself from the main rhythm and flow of the household while at the same time playing victim that she was being treated differently and that she was not being taken care of. But there had been countless times of us and even me, reaching out to her to try to work things out but she refuses to take accountability nor responsibility for the breakdown of the family relationship. My last attempt was a long letter explaining to her that things have changed because she refused to change, and that her stuck ideals are not sustainable nor healthy for everyone concerned. Instead of meeting us halfway, she withdrew, and continued with her ideals and shoulds and musts and continued to blame us for her misery.

I started my therapy with a psychiatrist because of her and the realization of how much of my life and the family's life she had manipulated and designed to serve her own needs and wants.

As you can see I have a major mother issue. And that has extra weight on me because I am an eldest daughter.

I have anxiety and depression, and I have childhood/ teenhood trauma from both her and the private school she sent us to where students were physically punished and verbally abused and humiliated by teachers and by the directress herself who owned the school.

Ah, it is October so maybe that's why the horror stories are coming up.

It's half past ten and I am feeling the fatigue of the day. I am again at that crossroads of wanting to read or wanting to maybe do a sketchbook page or just watching Netflix. I think I will read so I can do it in bed. I don't think I can sit up for another half hour with a sketchbook. I'm reading Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson. I can't remember when but I had this sharp shift from fantasy to scifi. That was also around the same time that I stopped falling in love.