clearing out muddled thoughts, sort of

5/31/12 --

Are you down right now and don't know why?
Are you weighed down by a lot of things and can't identify what they are?
Are your thoughts messed up and you can't think straight?

Check. Check. Check. Pardon the lame ad reference, but I desperately need to gather my thoughts and I think now is the best time to do it before I start a new chapter in my life.

Three years ago today, my Lola died. How I'd love to use a less harsh term: passed away, went to heaven, expired, departed, etc., but then again it's the same thing. She died and will never be back, and everyone will try to comfort me (and themselves) by saying that she'll continue to live in our hearts, that we'll meet again in the afterlife and stuff.

Scrap it. My tendency is to wallow in sadness, and no matter what everyone else says, I'll shut them out. My Lola's death is my first loss. And right now, I don't think I can cope with another one. Whether I've already moved on or not, that I can't say... I might be in the midst of it. I don't know if her death is the actual reason of my poor attendance in Church for the past three years, or it's that and my realization that I hate the way some (emphasis on "some" please) priests give the lamest homilies; false facts, mind controlling stuff, wasting half an hour without raising any point. Her death gave me more "profound" things to ponder on, or well, her death just bothered me with the bigger things than what's happening daily and plunged me into bothering with things I can't control. So I ended up wasting my time thinking of reasons for doing this and that, and basically just made me depressingly unproductive.

When I was five, I asked my Mama why I'm alive. Of course she didn't know the answer, and yes, she said it to me straight. Two or three years prior that event, she told my Ate to be patient with me since I was not yet six; therefore, I didn't know what I was doing and I can't be accounted for the wrong things I've done. "Ha Ha," says the little me. I understood every word she was saying, and I used those words to my advantage with my tongue sticking out like my then-usual (ahem, ahem) bratty self. But what my Mama said shook me deeply in that age. I prayed that I want to die before I turn six, so that I'll never turn bad then I'll go straight to heaven and become an angel. I'm twenty-three right now, with the tail and fangs, but I don't wanna grow horns. And now, I just want to die right after I've been to confession, which I don't do anymore. After being scolded by the priest in a confessional in the university chapel, I left that place crying and ashamed since the people next in line are trying to peek in since I was taking a long time. I haven't been to confession since.

I feel like I'm stuck in a ditch. I grew up in a strictly religious family and went to a Catholic school where I played the good girl role. And now, I'm questioning myself if I'm doomed to go to hell because I feel like I'm such an evil person. Now I know why I fear death so much. It's hell I fear and the uncertainty of dying. I'm still glad that I have a religion and my faith. I think it saved me a lot of times whenever I felt really depressed and wanting to end everything on my own terms.

Another aspect of death I'm frightful of is losing someone dear to me. In all of my selfishness, I'd rather go first. I need another period to clear out this detail, since I already feel drained trying to figure out what's keeping me from living a full life.