MARGIENARY

If you ask me that question, I’d say I have been hiding in my cave trying to get all the cobwebs off the stalactites and sweep the floor clean to chase away the perpetual sleeplessness which is like some red-eyed bats that hang on their little sharp-tipped wings on the roof of a cave. After I wrote that I’m-in-a-bad-mood-so-you-better-get-out-of-my-way-rant some weeks ago, I decided to be a good girl (for a change :-) and keep things to myself. At least to keep from ruining someone else’s day if not more so to maintain a semblance of sanity. That would be the dramatic answer I would give you which would no more or less than the truth, depending on what perspective one is looking from. The honest and stripped-of-drama, straightforward answer is that I have been trying to “live” more. I guessed experiencing death even for a few seconds leaves its mark on a person and it makes one try to be more ‘alive’ than s/he already is. How does one live more? Well, for myself, I’ve been making sure

During my birthday this month, my friends and colleagues serenaded me and the first song they sang was one that is called Faithful Friend by Twila Paris. One line in the song that I remember says, "I will never put you on a pedestal." And my mind went, "Why not?" But then the next line in the song says, "For we both know the glory is the Lord's." All in all, the song was good, and I should not fail to mention that I love the melody. But that is not the main reason why I am writing this blog. The reason was that I have personally proven this month that the worst thing one can do, both to oneself and the concerned person, is to put someone on a pedestal. Just like the song said, the pedestal belongs to the Lord alone. We can hold people in very high honor but we should never forget that they are human beings too... fallen human beings just like me and you. It is therefore unrealistic to expect people to stay as perfect as the person we have ma

I’m confused.  I have been a mound of angry muscles, veins, and bones and arteries who if not reined in would go about virtually biting people’s heads off. When you died and been brought back to life, I would think you would be gentler. You would look at the world and everything in a whole new light. Well, I don’t.  I am angry at the doctors for making me go through that when they could have prevented it.  I am angry at my body for being such a messed up clump of cells that cannot even function the way it is supposed to. I am angry at my health for being such a pain in the neck. I am angry at the people who bring work to my door when they know that I need to rest. I am angry at friends who just see me walking around and standing on my own two feet and then assume that everything is fine now and they can treat me without the slightest bit of sensitivity and consideration. I am angry at people who think they are encouraging but actually irritating. I am angry at the dishes that don’t wa

I almost asked my husband to take me to the ER today, (although from past experiences, the ER in the hospitals in this side of the world aren't that encouraging either) after I felt a sudden chest pain, weakness in my limbs, dizziness, and nausea, which are all indicative of a heart attack.  Now, why in the world would I get a heart attack? Well, yes!  I am not the healthiest person, but heart attack?  So I decided to wait it out a little and see how it goes, telling myself to breathe in and out because it came to a point where all my awareness was focused on the crushing pressure on my chest that makes it so difficult to breathe. I voraciously searched the net for any possible diagnosis of the symptoms I was presenting and came across a forum where people with similar symptoms posted what their doctors found out (or mostly what they did not find out) and some remedies they've tried that somehow alleviated the discomfort.  A lot of them said it might be trapped gas that is

It is a good thing Blogger does not kick out people who stay away from their blogs for too long.  I would have been asked to leave long time ago if they do. It is always good to come back here and read what transpired in years past, so I am back but mostly to use this page again as a therapist.  I always find it therapeutic to write about things that have had an impact on my life specially the scary and bad ones. Yup, I almost died exactly a day before the 4th death anniversary of my dad. It was around 11PM, while I was writing my case digests on a Saturday, the 14th of this month when I felt this nerve-racking pain in my lower abdomen. I tried to psych myself up and get it under control but when I could not, I awaken my husband and told him that maybe he should take me to the hospital.  After that, I passed out because of the pain.  My husband thought I fell asleep.  When I came to, it was already early in the morning of Sunday and the pain has gotten worse

The last week happened like a whirlwind.  Plans were made while at work, the plans came about and then ended, and I was left mY Synapses...

I have not written any blog entry or anything personal for that matter in the last year or so. I could say that after my son was born, he occupied all my waking hours, and I would not be lying, but that is not the real reason why I stopped writing. For one, I suffered the dreaded postpartum depression and I did not know how to deal with it. I denied it for months. I kept asking myself why I became too lazy to engage my mind in anything other than changing nappies. Of course there was the occasional burst of energy that enabled me to accomplish some things in my job, but mostly, I have had to drag myself out of bed every morning and force myself to go to work. I knew I needed help but there was no help anywhere. I called my doctor but other than a pill that was supposed to put smiles on my face, she was not really of any help. I did not take the pill as it was contraindicated with breastfeeding so I really do not know if the pill would have helped me had I taken it. Looki