2004 Journal Entries

NEAR DEATH


If I died would you weep for me? Would you bring me a bouquet of red roses on my wake? Would you walk the mile on my funeral until I am buried to my grave?

These were questions asked of me by a very close friend of mine in the past. And for once I could only stand still with my clueless ness of the matter. I had no idea what to tell her. Even the first word seemed hard to pronounce. I thought she was crazy....

Is death something you feel before it actually happens? Are we alarmed before it comes? Are premonitions true?

I have never been so afraid in my entire life!!!

When I was nine years old, my younger brother shot a stone on my chest with a slingshot while I stood looking hungrily at the guava tree. The pain didn't start to pound until the stone rolled down from my body.

In high school, the same younger brother hit me with brass steel that pounded against my shoulders and aimed a butcher knife on my face. But I stood there as if what he was about to do wouldn't kill me.

On another occasion, my elder brother Jonathan hammered my head because I was getting in the way of his work. I was about six years old that time and he was seven. He was in the event of helping my Dad do his carpentry. I also did not feel the pain of that hammering until my Dad saw blood shedding from my head. Immediately I was rushed for medication. Until the present time I still have that scar on my head.

Even amid the theory that kids are afraid to sleep in the dark, I was always more comfortable sleeping with the lights off.

I guess, what I am really trying to say is, all my life I've always been brave about everything, from the wrath of my brothers to the seething hatred of my mother for me.

Until that one time came when my landlord and landlady awakened me at dawn of January 28, 2004, in a new city all by myself in a new apartment. They told me some unknown men broke into our units and stolen some stuff. The burglars actually intended to break into all the houses and apartments in the subdivision, to salvage on what valuables they can get.

Over at the other side, they broke into an office unit and took with them some pertinent documents leaving destroyed windowsills and panes. At the apartment unit next to ours, they stole a laptop, 2 high value Nokia cell phones, atm cards, wallet with money, and a bag filled with personal things and documents (e.g. driver's license, keys etc.)

In our unit, though, they only took Jason's (my companion in the apartment) black traveling bag that was filled with nothing but trash and cellophanes. Before it was stolen, I placed that bag outside the back door. Plus they ate all the leftover food and left a huge mess in Jason's room. For the moment, my companion is out of town so I am left alone in the apartment.

After having been told about all that has happened, I sat back on the living room couch not knowing what to do or feel. I wanted to cry, shout and laugh all at the same time. I couldn't leave the apartment, yet I was scared to stay there alone for another night.

Every one of us was curious to know what really was the motif of the robbery. I mean they broke into the room of the tenant next door and they could have stolen everything. They were strong men, because they were able to break loose the grill bars of the windows, which is why I am so afraid that, perhaps, the next time they break in, they will already attempt to get in my room and do me harm.

I haven't been able to get sleep for several nights because of some personal worries. And the only time last night when I finally got sleepy, the crime had to take place. Now, most probably I will not be able to go to sleep again because of fear for my life.

I've been wanting to shout this out after all the shit I feel...just give me a few moments...

“SON'S OF FUCKING BITCHESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

There, there, that's better.......................

My 34-year-old neighbor says she is just thankful the burglars hadn't decided to steal her life away as well, or killed anyone of us. She said it was so hard to try and adjust to the loss of her material things. But then they are just things...they can be replaced. Her life was above measure.

This made me ashamed of myself. It made me think of the several times I tried to kill myself without much value for my life. It made me go back to the question of my old friend whom I wept for in her death. She died of asthma and I did bring her a bouquet of red roses on her wake and walked the mile to her grave on the day of her funeral. But it is only now that I completely realized the great value of one's life.

So, if I were to ask you...if I should die...would you have done the same for me?

Written: January 29, 2004



BURN OUT (Edited)


Earlier today I received this heart-breaking text message from my elder brother after exchanging a few funny messages. He is serious...I know. He is, perhaps, the closest to me among all my other siblings. The second eldest in a brood of seven followed by me with a year's gap. We are each other's confidants. My brother has always been that open to me and I to him. Our lives and experiences has been to each other an open book.

I replied to his message, "Rest if you must, John."

His answer to my message had been, "Only God knows my problems. If I could only hug all of you...my family...”"

I could feel my blood running dry. What person in his right mind could tell you this? And how am I supposed to feel exactly, as a sister and as a confidant? I wanted to cry but I was holding back my tears. My brother needed strength right now. I couldn't show him any sign of weakening.

For long unending and sleepless nights, over-work and fatigue, I sat still in a corner for one day during the Holy Week and thought to myself...I am tired too. Burned out for some reason. How do you stop to miss someone? How do you just take all the time to yourself? How is it possible you can shut out the world from your life? I could not begin to imagine.

I miss radio life. I miss my family. I miss my hometown. I miss my friends. I miss my loved one.
Being away from all the usual in your life can drive you crazy sometimes. You get sucked up in your work without noticing that you are losing grip of some of the most essential part in your life...the important ones. The special people and who you are.

In high school my barkada (group of close friends), used to tell me that I was the most thoughtful member of the group. I basically write every one of them simple notes or greetings every school day. I know each one's birthday and never fail to give them meaningful gifts on their special day.

Until somebody told me this quote, "The one thing constant about the world is change," I could have bargained this certain part of me. Not the sentimentality...the thoughtfulness...the sunny disposition.

Isolation is weakening. Silence can kill you. I have lost contact with my world.

Last July 12, 2003, when I was still working at the radio station, I received a phone call from the same elder brother. "It's Dad's birthday today." He reminded me.

It did not come to me in the form of a shock. I was embarrassed. How could I have forgotten?

So this is what it meant otherwise with, "Welcome to the real world, Theren!"

Hello cruel world!

What is it about the real world that is so consuming and heart breaking? Why do people take a tight grip of it when reality check is, it is not all that remarkable?

The worst thing that came into my mind after feeling so tired of bearing the consequences of the real world was to resign from my post and go back to my family. Perhaps, relax from all these hassles for, let's say, a year or so, before taking on a new career path. When was the last time I went home since running away?

I have given it some thought, though. I am physically tired. The job I do is demanding and very tiring. Right now I am in a state of knowing that my body is about to give up and that I am supposed to get sick. But I cannot, so I resist the fact that I am sick.

Perhaps, I am just not used to this kind of adrenaline rush. First of all, it is a multi-national company I am working for. Second, I have relocated into a new city of different culture and dialect. Third, besides surviving the job, I have to live up to all the occasional anxieties and loneliness.

Other than my roommate Jason Chavez who also plays the role of a close friend, brother and my direct superior at work, I have nobody else I call my friend in Cebu with whom I can go to and hangout with. Those I feel I want to hang out with.

Recently, Jason told me that by third week of April he will be out of Cebu and will be away for two months. The news freaked me out.

I WILL BE ALONE IN THAT APARTMENT???!!!!????

Suddenly, the horrors are creeping back on me. The likes on the movie "Panic Room", that's just about nerve wrecking. I am not just dismayed or sad or depressed.... I AM MORTIFIED!!!

Ever since those unknown men broke into the apartment some months ago, or is it weeks, and Jason was out-of-town, I have never been peaceful at nightfall. I have to go through the trauma of being afraid every time I hear any movement or sound.

Third week of April is fast approaching and I get so feverish at the realization. Can I live with it? I can only imagine the sleepless nights. Am I getting too sentimental about this? Well, what do you want me to do? Can I lock Jason in his room so he wouldn't have to go? Huh? Tell me! Bring it on!

This excerpt was taken from the Journal of Theren Alexander, April 6, 2004 - 11:40pm… emotionally out of control...for the mean time.

Copyright ©2006 Theren Alexander