There are some things in life that you just cannot change. You may have accepted it to be as such, but the people around you may not have.
There are times when you try so hard to fight and be strong for the people you love, only to find out that some of them would be hurting you and would, in the end, be causing anger to build up in you…not intentionally though.
I have been met by the greatest trial in my life. The one event I never thought would happen to me, yet it did, and all because I was too stubborn to use my head and too weak to have allowed my heart to lead me.
But the damage has been done, pain has been inflicted upon innocent ones and blame has been poured over the rightful recipient…me.
Yet, for how long should I endure these blames, these hurting words that even though I do admit all of my mistakes I still don’t feel deserving of being called sumpa (cursed), malas (misfortune) and worse lahi ng demonyo (of the devil’s bloodline), by the very people I have been loving all my life…my family.
I have grown accustomed to being addressed to as the bringer of malas in our home after my recent illicit affair which bore a fruit. Even the retirement of my dad, the financial difficulty in our house…almost everything bad happening to the family has been blamed on me. I have brought upon us the malas.
Well, I don’t blame them for calling me such. They were hurt by what I did and my recent crisis came at the same time when the family is experiencing great difficulties. I actually added up to the burden.
But I intended to help out. I told them I would work even in my condition, but they won’t let me. They wanted me to stay home for some reason.
So, now that the difficulty is much too deep to deny, I am the easiest to pin the blame on, not directly, but by calling me as the malas.
Just recently another term has been coined – sumpa. I do want to believe that my brother, the one who made the statement, did not intend to say such a thing to me, as the word was not directly addressed to me. However, as he said “Naniniwala na ata ako sa sumpa!” he was looking straight at me.
I’d like to believe that I’m just paranoid, for I do not think my brother, the one of all my siblings, who gained my greatest respect for his rational thinking, would say such a thing to me. Nevertheless, it hurts so much…paranoid or not of me.
Well, here at home, when Sundays come, you would often hear my mom saying that, we are having great misfortunes because I am not attending church anymore and that I do not pray. And whenever she gets the chance to come near me she would tell me “Magdasal ka naman anak para mawala ang malas natin.”
Well, you might say I’m just being too sensitive when I tell you that these words are irritating me each day that passes, but they do.
Honestly, I do pray, but do I really have to show the world that I am praying?
I believe that the only one who can help me keep my sanity despite all the things that are happening to me is my faith to Jesus. This is why I pray. I talk to Him, thank him and share my pains to him.
I pray to thank the Lord that up until now I can still love and think…that I am still sane. I go to church for a different reason…that is to make my mother happy.
Unfortunately, my mother’s belief of faith is one associated only to the Catholic Doctrine…thus I am a sinner and they are being punished as well for my sins.
Just this Sunday, I have experienced the deepest anger I have ever had for my mother. A feeling I never thought would come over me, but it did and though I’m deeply sorry for feeling it, I can’t help it and it’s still in me until now.
I wasn’t able to attend mass that Sunday because I have been having cramps and for some reason, I feel tired of listening to the priest moralizing, politicizing and criticizing most every person they can criticize for being a non-Catholic and these is being done during the children’s mass, where most of the attendees are children – who aren’t actually interested in the kind of sermon being done for they just run around the church, chat with each other, or sleep.
Well, my mother found out about it and she was so upset. She went to our room that night and seeing me lying on my bed, she most likely thought that I was asleep. So she called on my daughter and asked if we attended mass. My daughter of course told the truth the we didn’t, and my mother, so angry at what she heard, shouted at my daughter and told her “May lahi na talaga kayong demonyo!” she slammed the door after.
I turned to look I my daughter who was just staring at the closed door and was not saying a thing, until I called her to lye beside me.
I was so mad at my mother! I can accept being addressed as malas, or sumpa. It would have been fine for me too if she said “May lahi na talaga kayong demonyo!” directly to me…but no…she had to tell it to my daughter!
I wanted to ran after my mother, shout at her for what she said, of all the things I have been called this is but the lowest and it being said to my daughter just makes it even worse!
My daughter is nine and everything you say to her she is able to retain in her head. She is like a recorder and I wouldn’t be shocked if one day she would again bring up that comment, like what she always does about things she heard from a long time ago.
My anger rose and I would admit it’s still rising, because it has topped most every pain I have felt over the last few months since this crisis of mine broke out.
Yet I tried to keep calm. I do not want my daughter seeing me charging at my mom even if I have a valid reason. It’s just not a good example.
I kept calm and told myself “five months and a book to buy our freedom and we’ll be off!”
There’s nothing stopping me now. I love my family, I love my father and even if my anger for my mom is growing, I know I still love her. But I have a family of my own and she just charged at my daughter - I love my children the most, so I’m buying our freedom before my daughter gets hurt even more.
You might say I’m doing it for the wrong reason, but I think it’s about time to make my move. Move on in life on my own and prove to my children that we can survive…that I can survive for them.
Why buy my freedom? You might ask. I love my father and it has been my greatest dream to leave him something of my own, a piece of me before I prove to them I can stand alone.
I know he wouldn’t let me and would most probably say I can’t make it. But I have to make it. It’s something I have to do. Yet I cannot leave our home, knowing that I haven’t done anything for my dad. This book I am making is the one, it will help his business and it will leave him a piece of me.
And though it pains me to think that I have to do such an exit…I must for my own sanity.
Love is not enough, I have things to prove to myself, I have responsibilities to my children, that I should have started long ago, but was not able to for I was perceived as weak and unable to do so. Yet I am not…it was my guilt…my conscience…my fear of being called ungrateful for my family that has been stopping me and keeping me in this dead end.
But now I have to be brave. I know it will pain my father the most, but I have to be brave and move on alone for my children.
For how long must I endure the pain of being called malas or sumpa and the pain of my kids and I being referred to as lahi ng demonyo? Five months and a book…still five months more and a book in the process…but I’m counting and I’m finishing the book.
From then on I will be the queen of my realm, one which my children will learn to appreciate for it will be a realm from that of my love, my time, my perspiration – my whole being – for the future I alone owe my children and I alone can give them.
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