End of the World Confession: Hatred and Suicide

December 21, 2012 – end of the world. Well, at least that’s where the Mayan calendar ended. End of the world… I don’t believe in that shiz. But looking back, especially now that I’m sad again, it’s like I do what the world to end.


It was the 27th of November in the year 2012. I was cutting an illustration board for my Math extra credit task. Cutting illustration board with a cutter was so hard and painful due to pressure. At 8:17 pm, I wondered if cutting skin, flesh and an artery would be easier than cutting illustration board. I was crying my heart out. I had no one to turn to. I felt like giving up on everything. I wanted to end things. Then I placed the cold blade against my warm skin. I was about to cut in, when my phone rang: it was a text. Hoping it was my best friend, I dropped the blade (and it hit my foot…that hurt), got my phone and read the message. It was her. I told her that I was starting to doubt God’s existence.

Thanks to signal problems (Globe, please get your shit together), I got her reply a little late. I was really thinking that God doesn’t love me anymore. All the pain from my whole life came on me and I really wanted to end things without the pain. Good thing I didn’t pick up the blade anymore. I saw a little blood coming out of my foot due to that small cut caused by me dropping the cutter, and it scared me. I hate seeing blood coming out of me. I hate the pain. I got a piece of tissue to stop the little bleeding, and I got her reply. I texted her back, saying that all I ever experienced was sadness and that I can’t take it anymore. She told me she was crying too, and that she can’t imagine her life without me. She told me that I am her best friend, even if I don’t consider her mine (then I told her that I felt the same way…yeah it took us three years to tell that to each other). We were crying the whole night, then I switched to a different mode: I joked about flooding in my room because I kept on crying. She did the same. We had a good laugh, then we hugged the next day.


For me, committing suicide is the gravest sin (but I’d rather take my own life than to take another’s). I always thought of those who attempt to/commit suicide were the most pessimistic pessimists in the world. Those people wouldn’t let other people help them in their problems. They didn’t let God help them. They are irrational. They are desperate. They are selfish. They deserve to go to hell. I said those things not knowing that I would be one of them.

Have you ever wondered what’s in the mind of a ineffably sensitive, suicidal 16 year old girl? I’ll tell you.

  1. I thought that my family would support me in whatever I do…why?
  2. I thought that my friends would just be a text away…why won’t you reply when I need you?
  3. I thought that school would make me a better person…why am I suffering?
  4. I thought that there is no “I” in “TEAM”…how did “TEAM” become “FORCED TO BE INDEPENDENT”?
  5. I thought that you would always be there for me…where are you now?
  6. I thought that you love me…did you mean it?
  7. I thought we had something…what happened?
  8. I thought that we should be open-minded…so why are you so close-minded?
  9. I thought that everyone has flaws…why rub mine in even if yours are worse?
  10. I thought that You love me and You’ve known me since I was a little zygote…how come I don’t feel it?
  11. I think the world would be a better place if I didn’t exist.

Those were the things that were burning my head and my heart on November 27. I was so depressed and stressed that day. All those issues I have just bombarded me with so much pain and hatred. I hated my family. I hated my relatives. I hated my friends. I hated everyone in school. I hated the people around me. I hated that sad face on that balancing chemical equations quiz (I almost burned it). I hated the world. I hated my heart. I hated my mind. I hated myself. I hated God. I hated everything that I know that existed, except for that cutter that would help me kill me.

What stopped me from getting my own life? My best friend. Period. Not even the thought of my crush saved me. In fact, my crush was a reason for my attempt to kill myself, along with many other reasons…like broken relationships or some sorts.

I told my family and friends after a few days. All of them told me to not kill myself and that they’re always around when I need them.

After what I’ve been through, it’s hard to believe those words. It’s hard to trust anyone. It’s hard to give second chances. It’s hard; everything is hard, even myself. I have become a stone.

I was numb for some while, but I got back to my usual broken self, thinking if I should move on and mend my broken heart. Then a dream made me smile. Later that day, the person in my dream that made me smile kind of broke me and I don’t know why. I wanted to get the cutter again, but my brother texted: mom needed to go to the hospital. I gave up on my dreams of ending my own world. I went to the hospital and got freaked out by my surroundings. I kept my eyes open for spirits with unfinished business. Then I though to myself: when I die, I want to haunt people, but they would get scared of me. Maybe I’ll haunt them while I’m living instead.


December 21, 2012 – 10:15 pm. Nothing has happened. I was just trying to figure out my prom dress a few moment ago. I have decided not to move on from some things that I have to move on from. I thought that I need to give people second chances. But this time, I won’t trust that much. I don’t want my world to end.

Life Goes On…Or Not

Another emotionally-driven blog post for Cloie. yay.


I danced around my air conditioned room last Saturday, and I am now suffering the consequences: hello coughs, colds and asthma. I wasn’t quite well yesterday, but life goes on. I woke up this morning and I said, “Today is the day, but I don’t have the voice. OH NO! But hey, life goes on. I can’t afford to be absent this week.”

I whispered to everyone that I talked to because I had to conserve my voice for our choral recitation at 9:10. At 8AM, our school had an earthquake drill. We were at the top floor… -___- So I was really having a hard time breathing (thank you genes… I did not ask for asthma but oh well), but LIFE GOES ON. Final practice, prayer and it was showtime! Everything went well, except for the sss-so and thhh-thou parts, but everyting was well! I was really proud of my class! We went up to our classroom, had a mini bonding session, prayed, and hoped that we would be one of the five sections to compete in the finals.

We patiently waited for dismissal time. They announced the top five sections that will advance to the finals. We stopped our work in computer class, and we crossed our fingers, hoping to hear “three-four” from the PA system. Only two sections from the third year level got through, and we didn’t make it. Of course, we were all sad and we are all still heart-broken. Then I saw (and felt…even in myself) all the bitterness, especially that we heard things. Then we all digressed into the Songfest last year. Most of the people that I was talking to really told us that our section really deserved to win. Yet, a classmate and I told them that the judges saw something in the winner that they didn’t see in us; we also told them that that happened to us this year. We all know that we were good and we could have made it. As the song goes, “I did my best, but I guess my best wasn’t good enough.”

It hurts until now, knowing that things could have been/may be different. But what hurts the most is that we gave so much and yet we got something that I think we didn’t deserve (and no, I’m not talking about the prize). We gave what we can to get a really high score in our English form (exam… <–choral recitation), but we got a low grade (well, it’s low for me and most of us). We passed, but it’s low! For sure, we had a fault, but seriously… IT’S A FREAKIN’ EXAM MY GOODNESS!

This afternoon was really disappointing, but I want to look at this this way (even if it’s kinda cliche): this is how God wants it to be. Everything happens for a reason. I guess this is God’s way of telling us that we can’t always be on top, and that we must strive harder, even if we have strived so much. And we have to learn things the hard way.

Disappointing, but life goes on, and we have to go with it.


Also, I lost the book that I borrowed from my brother that I lent to my teacher. Now I have to buy him another copy. Ohwell my teacher wrote a note and inserted it in it… Even that is gone. Good thing I read it already.

Le heart is heavy and torn, once more

For some stupid (yet unknown… weird!) reason, I can’t breathe properly again.  This only happens when: 1. I have coughs and/or colds ; 2. I have asthma/fatigue;  3. I am SO stressed; and 4. I am once again feeling emotional and sad and, I really really as in very very super duper want to shout “I want this to END!” and “Take me NOW!”. This time, it’s number four.

Ever since the school year ended, I have been feeling bad… (Siguro dahil hindi ko napagsasabihan si Miss Alie ng mga kuwento at problema ko…  Lol!)  I’ve been feeling like the world’s on my back, even if school is over. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. It must be this desire for this person… No, desire sounds wrong. Let me rephrase that. It must be that feeling that wants me to be with that person (ops sa mga nakakaalam, bawal magcomment sa ibaba!) But no, it’s not that. Maybe because I know that what I’m feeling is wrong.

I know it’s wrong;  I even went against it at one point in my 15 years of existence (well, I changed my mind). I know it’s wrong, but why do I still do it? I keep on asking God to help me change, but I end up imagining myself living in that “perfect situation” that I keep on dreaming of. I end up living in this fantasy world where everything is acceptable (like a Philippines that accepts gay marriage, but that’s not what I dream of); I end up sinning again. I believe in a lot of things (gender equality, equal rights to all of humankind, love, fate, friendship, happiness and loads more), but I put religion first. According to the Catholic Church, what I am doing is wrong, ’nuff said. I know I can’t be perfect, and I know I can’t be sinless (sad life there). I’m trying my best to forget about everything that I’m feeling, but no, I can’t. That person just brought too much change in my life. TOO MUCH, I TELL YOU. O faith, I remain faithful to you (that was kind of redundant).

I believe in what the Church says, but I still believe that everyone on this planet deserves happiness. I think everyone should do whatever s/he want to do. I believe that no one has the right to destroy another’s happiness. But I also think that no one should step on another just to be happy. We all want peace here, okay? Back to my point, all of us should be happy. But, how come I’m not?

At this point, I am breathing properly. YAY! So, I was able to let it out. What a success, although I’m still feeling bad. Oh how I wish that person knew all the pain I’ve been going through… How my heart is torn into two (pero puwede ring three).  How I can’t breathe not because of reasons 1, 2 and 3 (because that person always knows that I go loco for air because I’m sick and stressed). How much hair I’ve lost because of this (haircut for a new life and hair loss due to stress). How much (or many… uh Grammar Nazi mode is totally off) things have entered my mind since that day when everything changed came. How I wish that person knew everything.

And now, I can’t breathe again. Poor lungs, poor brain, but I pity my heart the most.

The Word: Expectations

It’s amazing how expectations can tear a person apart.

I’ve always wanted to be a singer, and study in Julliard. I want to be a theater actress, and be a Broadway star, too. So, I end up wanting to be a musical theater student. But how the hell am I going to be one, if my voice teacher doesn’t like the way I perform in class? She told me that singing is thinking. A singer does not see her instrument, so one must think that the voice should be this way, or that. “It’s all in the mind”, she said. And this morning, she told me, “You also have to enjoy it. You think too much, Cloie. Parang pasan mo ang daigdig”. (It’s like you’re carrying the world… ugh crappy translation) It’s hard not to think too much, especially if you’re undecided. I really don’t know what I want to be. I’m only a high school sophomore, and my mom says that it’s too early to know what I really want to be. But what makes things really complicated are the endless expectations from the people around me. From my parents, to my aunts and uncles, to my teachers, to my classmates, to my mentors, to my relatives, to people who know me; to everyone, in short.

I’ve been a consistent honor student from the first grade until freshman year. Then my report card from the first quarter in second year came, and I was short on two A-s. My streak was broken, and I was devastated. Of course, my parents were not so happy about it, and I feel like my dad was surely not pleased. I know I did not do my best, but I know I did well. I didn’t do as well as everyone expected because I was all over Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, books and random other stuff. I did because I wanted to escape from the reality of a student’s life. Studying is hard (so I don’t), but I get good grades. Thank God for giving me the gift of learning things quickly! (Yes, listening in class does the trick) I knew that I can get a perfect score instead of -1, but I didn’t do something (good) to make the best possible.

Alas, I let my parents down. I did not meet their expectations. Again, the dreadful word!

Everyone expects me to do good; to be as good or better than them. I’m sick of these expectations. I’m not a crowd pleaser, but why am I greatly affected by these expectations? Maybe because these things would actually affect my future.

Mom says that my brain would get wasted if I won’t be a doctor. She said that I’d be a successful engineer. And the most hateful thing that she said: there’s no money in teaching and in the arts. I mean, seriously? How did my teachers feed their families? They expect me to be successful in the field I am academically good at: math and science. I’m good at them (at some point), but sorry, I’m not interested. I love history, literature and the arts, and I want my job to be related to any of these. I’m good at Social Studies, English, FIlipino and Music, so why are they focusing on me being a doctor when I don’t like Biology, and me being an engineer when I know Math isn’t my best subject? I know that my parents want the best for me, but don’t they get the fact that what makes me happy might be the best for me? I know I’m being a bit (or a lot) selfish, but I’d be really happy if I get to do what I want. I’d be able to serve God and His people without forcing myself if I do it by doing my job; doing the job that I love. Well, I still have time to think.

I’m not in the perfect state of mind right now. And I guess this is the result of too much expectations: breakdown. (cries)