Maybe My Grades Are Not THAT Bad

It's second day of final exams and I can almost feel my nerves coming up. Clinical Anatomy's on the line.

I have learned yesterday that I got an 88 for Physiology. Not bad, but judging from the fact that I have dropped from a grade of 90, it's not also good.

A few days ago, I also learned I have a grade of between 86 and 87 in my Clinical Anatomy. I passed, but not in my standards. Today is redemption.

I think I have exerted the best that I can conjure for this last wave of Anatomy ruckus for this semester. Fingers crossed.

Reunion with my Most Trusted Friend

Having a friend is a blessing. What more then a best friend could be? It gladdens my heart that even if I don't have much friends, I have a few that I can truly count on. 

After what seemed like a very long time. She asked me out for lunch. I said yes because frankly, I wanted to. I missed these people so much. The people I spent my high school with.

She listened to my rants about my failed attempt to pass my physiology exams and gave me a few of her own opinions. We talked about her boyfriend and his struggles with employment. We talked about how our batch from high school, when we separated ways for college, seemed like the odd balls of our own respective degrees. Odd ball not in a bad thing, but more of we evolved to become introverts odd ball.

I have come to realize that we were once troubled teens, and still are. But high school made it easier to dampen the situation, we have each other to spend time with and momentarily forget our own miseries.

And I came to realize that it's not only me who tries her hardest to be accepted by herself, but them too. We grew up in an academic environment where we fought for high grades and its social implication. Us getting barely passed grades making us feel inferior thus reverberating in our attitudes.

My friend told me I changed. I was quieter, less annoying. The friend she was not used to. She tried cheering me up by buying me a bar of chocolate. I didn't eat it until I was watching tenners at school hosted by the College of Arts and Sciences where I was not supposed to smuggle in any food or beverage much less eat one.

One thing I've learned today? Keep your friends, they know what you're going through.

"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you."

- Elbert Hubbard

Letting the Pain Out

I broke down today. I broke down to a mug of Twining's Mint Green Tea and to my mum. I broke down about my demise in my Physiology exams.

Two weeks. I withheld the pain for two weeks. I didn't cry, I had to stop the tears from falling down my face. But today, they just fell. Just like the rush of a waterfall pulled by gravity. 

I am on my emotional peak today. The surge of hormones raging in my blood.

Today, I realized that these experiences can pretty much shake the faith you have on God. For two weeks I lived in a shadowed world, full of unhappiness and bad thoughts. 

I'd like to take a sabbatical for a while though. Just to clear off my mind and find God again. Because I just can't seem to formulate a reason as to why I needed to feel this grave experience. I really don't. I have been good, plain. Just me. I followed every order my parents told me to do. I fervently go to church. I don't skip classes.

I know I may seem uptight, but that's me. That's how I enjoy my life. But it felt good to have poured my emotions out.

Getting a fat 79 on two Physiology exams

What is wrong with me? Seriously. I was really confident when I took the two exams last midterms. And I have no idea how come I have acquired a grade percentage of 79 percent on two separate exams.

I know confidence is not a reason for one to pass exams, but still, I was confident that I know the answers. And I didn't slack of. I studied. Greatly. But in the end, I failed.

It's been a week since I knew and the only things keeping me sane are Cody Simpson's new album 'Surfers Paradise', sketching on my physiology book, some magazines I bought from a thrift store and just by being home. But it still lingers in my mind. This might be the only time I've had a grade in line seven. Most of my grades were in the line of nine, seldom eight. 

There are time when I feel like it's the end of the world, but I'm just too optimistic to rule out committing suicide, sorry not an option. On the other hand, I feel like a bipolar scum reverting to being the super introvert again. I avoid hearty conversations, I forget to smile, sometimes I even forget to eat. 

What makes it worse is the expectations. From the teachers, my parents, friends, and all other nuisance in my life. But most of all, from myself. I didn't grow up to receive a failed grade, I grew up to achieve the highest grade possible!

The only hope I have now is the finals. May the odds be ever in my favor.

I think I changed for the worst

It's been bothering me lately, how I have been a blabbermouth and insensitive prat when I entered my third year as a university student.

Has every accomplishment of mine got into my head? I strongly think so, and it's bad, real bad. 

I just wish I could be my former self again. The silent, dainty and contented me who never squealed a gossip or made a snide remark about someone or something. The me who was reserved but has deadly poisons up her sleeves. Now, all my poisons seem spoiled, not one has that extraordinary and surprising element that makes it unique. I am an old news, or maybe I wasn't really news back then? Maybe I was hallucinating that I had that special capability in me that others saw?

It's pretty bad that I am a gossip, but what's worse is the people I am gossiping about. I always get paranoid when people treat me differently than they did before leading me think and rack my brain for stuff I might have done to piss them off. Sometimes, thinking like this leads me to my previous squabbles making me feel all guilty and bad without any tangible reasons. Maybe they're just inside my head and I'm just magnifying things with my paranoia. 

I do hope that by twelve tomorrow, I shut up and confide only to my closest of friends, which are only two. I hate being me.

Issue #6: Your Guy Best Friend 101

I don't think every girl has a guy best friend though. Why? Cause I don't.

You ask why again. Well, it's just that in high school, out of 25 students in our year and class, only eight were under the male population, and I think this is the stage wherein same sex cliques are formed. And I think having a friend at that stage was awkward, someone might mistake him for your boyfriend. I think I had some close friends who were boys just because sometimes I'm like a boy too, no drama, no whining, just pure happiness and simplicity.

AHHHH. But it isn't so. There is more to being a boy than meets the eye. First, they're not apathetic, just quiet and minds their own business. They know the issue but they don't join the commotion. Well, most boys do. There are some who seem to act otherwise though. But based on experience, these are their usual actions, and my dad's like this. They won't really care if you've got whatever disease you have on, but surely, they'll remember that note - and that's saying something.

Boys usually talk about worldly things such as cars, technology, and others. But you can make them talk of abstract things when both of you have been through deepest moments, and when you have gained his trust because most of the guys I've had interaction with are not those who easily-trust. Most of them talk to me about anime updates, games and the newest game consoles, but the longest ones I've known talk to me about emotions, their problems and other way more personal stuff.

Right now, most of my guy friends don't even send me text messages. The way I see it, most of them have found it insignificant anymore when there is Facebook or other means to connect. Also, way back in high school group messaging was very popular. You could create your own original template with signature, but now it seems a bit out of place, especially for us college students. Actually, most of my guy friends just visit Facebook, not even posting or anything, just lurking around.

Why I consider them my friends because they don't scare me. Bubbly boys and vain men scare me. For me, they're like girls hidden under a thick coat of testosterone. My male friends don't do selfies, hell, they update their display photos once in a year, sometimes never, posts photos but not usually themselves. They post conversations, comments and likes but not every effin' minute. Most importantly, they don't send you PMs that they want you to like something they have posted.

I am not saying I hate these more open men, it's just that they don't suit my feminine persona. It's like we'd clash and form ripples of havoc and mass destruction with our rainbows and unicorns. And I don't want that to happen. 

It's only normal to feel awkward towards certain types of boys, but then, even if you don't have that best guy friend, you need to have some male companions too, just to keep you grounded and sociable. Sometimes, mixing with the same sex have adverse effects on oneself, just like harboring feelings for them, or being paranoid within the vicinity of an opposite sex.

I know this post is crappy because it's half past twelve here and I need my daily dose of sleep. But first, my calcium and iron supplements. Haha!

Issue #5: Your First Ex-Boyfriend

Last May 31, 2013, I have willingly decided to tag along with my high school friends in line with the early celebration of one our classmates' birthday the next day. And the obvious place was the heart of nightlife in our place, which was supposed to be off limits for me, even if I am already 18, I know, LAME. Anyways, so my dad miraculously agreed to let me go and have fun, to be interrupted at midnight.

So here's the catch, my former boyfriend, who is my first one ever in the history of my geeky life, is a close friend of the boys of our class, then and now, well, they're much closer now. I was actually anticipating his presence their, and was actually excited about seeing him. I know, I repeat, pathetic.

The story behind us was way back in 2007, when I entered high school as a naive little town lass who gullibly fell in love with a junior boy's shiny and silky hair (yes, I know, it feels like a shampoo commercial, but it's not) because he was dancing gracefully for their class/year presentation for the acquaintance party of the high school department. Ultimately, the information that I am in love with him (actually his hair) reached his ears and that was the starting point of a budding relationship that would last for mere 2 months. Probably the best 2 months of my life.

I was to blame for the surprising end of our noobish relationship. One morning, I just woke up, with my female hormones raging, and felt the need to break up with him. UGH. Yes, the horror of my mistake, yet a right choice. I am so dumb, I know. Looking back, he was the perfect guy. He has his own opinions but genuinely opened his heart to me. What hurts the most is to know how much he really loved me by the aftermaths of the break-up. It keeps on haunting me, until this very hour.

I may have managed to move on, but not when we startd communicating again in my senior year as friends. We called each other goldfish (and you can see me smiling here). He was my confidante, my best friend. I let him borrow books on topics that we both like, and leave drawings and notes in them for the other to read. I know because I purposely left one at a book in which he also returned a drawing in it. I kept it, and held on to it, that maybe someday.

But that someday probably won't come. Because on the day that we met again after a very long time at my classmate's birthday, my heart was aching, waiting and longing for him, but it was evident from him that he did not return the favor. I was fetched at around 12:30 in the morning, a little intoxicated by the alcohol I was subjected to and fired off confession messages to a girl friend of mine who was still with them. She was a bit tipsy too and let my ex-boyfriend read everything, leading him to message me in the morning that he was sorry, leaving me skeptical, mortified and ashamed of myself.

As a whole, I really think he is my first love. After 6 years, the pain is still there, raw, scarred, painful. But I'll get through it, I know I can. I have to.

Issue #4: Accepting oneself

I AM FAT. For a person who barely stood 5 feet, and weighed almost 60 kilograms, that is beyond obesity. And I am referring to my ugly self.

I used to be thin in high school. So thin that I felt accepted by the society. Now that I've grown extra fat, I don't know where to put myself.

Yes, I am insecure and I hate myself about it, but you know what's worse is that me being fat and ugly and pimply and has unruly hair, I don't even know how to describe myself to you.

I've tried a lot of diet, I've blamed a lot of circumstances as to how I've gained weight (the most popular by far is my Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, which truly does make you gain weight).

Currently, I like someone whom I'm not privy of his personal life, feelings, etc. and it drives me crazy, even mad to think that I am not worthy of him because of my ugliness. I'm struggling, but I wasn't graced with the milky color of my friends' skin, their beautifully chiseled faces, nor their bodies. Rather I was granted with a petite stature, broad hipped, big butt, wavy hair and just plain curvy. Man, I hate it.

Currently, I don't know how to resolve this problem. I think I need time to do it so I can see if I can lose weight before my uncle's wedding and that I could accept myself again. :(

Issue #3: That exam you were sure you studied but you are sure you're going to flunk it

Just got home after a depressing major quiz for my midterms and you can tell that I am depressed. I'm more of depressed of my circumstances for the past weekend. This is what happened: I knew we had an exam today (Monday, February 4, 2013) for a major subject. I studied Friday, just a review. I was supposed to study my medical abbreviation handout, but alas! I forgot where I put it. I looked for it in my bag and I was so SURE I had it in my paper case, and looked for it there but it wasn't there. So I text messaged my friend who borrowed something from me in that class and I was sure my had out was with her, she replied that it was. Though already in a very bad situation, I opted to attend my high school classmate's debut party last Saturday which gave me a day off. Also on that day and Sunday, I studied for a wrong major subject. I thought our professor was going to give a test so I studied hard and apparently, boom! Monday came and we didn't have a test. Life sucked for me. And so I crammed for my expected exam at 12:30 p.m. and apparently, I think it didn't go well. I am really next to crying. I am a straight A student for heaven's sake! These things are not supposed to happen. But yeah, I blame myself for being to relaxed and contented. From now on, no more parties. That's it. It jeopardizes my examination results. UGH! How I hate it when I cannot even mess with the time to return it when I had the choice to choose the better idea. 

Issue #2: Disappointments

Why do we feel disappointed when things we least expect to go wrong comes out not in our favor? This year's university week felt like that. I know I haven't contributed much for the garnering of points for our department, but still, all my efforts of coming to school on time even if I am under asthma medication, sitting on the bleachers for hours, and a lot more sacrifices I did, all for nothing. Well, all for second place. 

I am disappointed because my friends and department mates are disappointed, and you can see it in their eyes how they'd wish to finally grab the throne from the defending champion. We've been working hard, but I guess what we did wasn't good enough. And that disappoints me too, how we did not maximize our resources to win. We could have won, but we didn't. And so we are facing a bitter sea full of sorrow. Yes, I am also in sour grape mode. Who wouldn't?!

Disappointments are meant to be faced head on, with us accepting our fates and how the truth can hurt, also if the effort you have put into doing something wasn't enough to achieve the goal. At least that's one of the few things I have learned today. Also is to never skip dinner, a hungry stomach adds more to the down feeling. Naps also helps, even just a 5-minute or a 10-minute nap can rejuvenate your lost energy and might alleviate the negative emotion within you.

Lastly, drink a hot  cup of chamomile with peppermint tea. I drank a cup and I feel groggy already. Write your disappointments, and let the world know that we have such an imperfect life with sorrow and dark days. xx

Issue #1: Being a Talented Wallflower

Like any normal teenager, I also have issues even if I'm already in my eighteenth year and it's already considered as an entry to young adulthood. But how come there are still a lot of issues that concerns problems of teenagers? Moreover, how can I cope up with them? I don't think keeping it hidden within yourself is not a good option as it sometimes turn out negatively unlike when you have an outlet for all of the issues you want to let out. Sometimes, telling our parents isn't enough, there's no retribution and you didn't even contribute to the society. You just made yourself a punching bag of bullies. Plain and simple.

Since I entered the university I'm in, I was and still a wallflower. But it didn't have much perks than what you think it does. It's hard, especially if you're a talented wallflower who has a lot more under your sleeves, but your school mates are just plain ignorant and selfish to notice. I mean, I was an achiever, I ace my subjects with flying colors since I was in elementary up to secondary education and is still doing so currently. I am an accomplished artists as I have won a lot of art and painting contests in the previous years, and had years of professional art classes with distinguished local artists. I am a musician. I can read and play musical notes with the piano and the violin. Music is not just a hobby for me, it's a passion since I have been exposed to various types of music at a young age.

So why can't people see that? Oh yeah, because I'm a damn wallflower who doesn't speak up for herself. What I'm trying to avoid here is getting branded as an ambitious girl who thinks she's better than anyone by delegating herself. But I think I will try that sometimes, to speak out, I mean. I have had my rest for the past year and I think I have mastered and known myself to be ready for battle, as Sun Tzu states in his renowned book 'The Art of War'.

So my piece of advice to those teens who are wallflowers but has the talent and has what it takes to conquer obstacles, grab the next opportunity stopping your way. As we grow older, we need to master how to make decisions that will benefit us and make us happy. After all, life wasn't given to us just to suffer, but it is a gift. A gift to do things with freedom. What we should do is maximize it, and make it bountiful. 

The good thing is I have been relieved of one of my teenage issues. I hope you too! xx