"frenzied hurly-burly…"

 

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The title of today's post is from the classic song "Can we just stop and talk awhile" by Jose Mari Chan, which I enjoy because of its retro simplicity. There are many times when I find myself wanting to “…get away from the grey and frenzied hurly-burly of the city life.”

I am writing this as part of an ongoing hypothetical conversation, which I realized was a unilateral discourse with the idea of a conversation partner in my head. Not far from playing chess/cards/checkers/tic-tac-toe with oneself, yet not the same as having a split personality or alter ego--indulge me. Unfortunately, the freshness of this idea is obviously short-lived...only my current mind knows what I'm referring to at this period in time and there's a chance that in the years to come, I will have absolutely no idea what this is about. Perhaps, I’m wrong and this develops. Let's carry on.

The main concepts are things I’ve entertained previously in my head: the butterfly effect and string theory. Disclaimer: I don't fully comprehend these concepts (I endeavour to), but have the basics for a non-expert conversation. At least, a hypothetical discourse. 

Now that I am older, I have become friends with my gut feeling. Whereas in the past, I would shush it with my biased rationality or shame. Shameful of giving power to the inexplicable visceral feeling in my gut, when in fact, it is that amazing gift that guides and protects. 

My gut might tell me that there is something amiss. 

My gut may inform me that something is worthwhile.

My gut may even cause me to check on something randomly and then by following its direction, I am instantaneously saved from some awkward or unsafe situation.

Acting upon my gut feeling has probably caused various cascades of events that have led me to this point right here. Things are neither absolutely random nor predestined, methinks. Blended to a ratio. And so, I have to ask rhetorically (unfortunately), what is the purpose of this discourse? Is it truly unilateral? Is it the subconscious attempt to entertain myself? Regardless…I’m grateful. It’s nice to engage in these kinds of other-dimensional patterns of thinking. Great exercise. There is that hope that it’s not all in my head, because some things are too coincidental.

—

Today marks the completion (final session) of my 1.5 years of therapy including an integrative phase followed by EMDR. I rarely write factual, “dear diary” stuff here but it may be worth remembering this day for me. Especially since mental health predicaments tend to be stigmatized in the culture in which I was raised. It is typical for persons in my culture to say “kulang ka sa dasal (you don’t pray enough)“, “wala naman ganyan noong unang panahon (that didn’t exist back in the day)”, or much worse: “arte lang ‘yan (that’s just being dramatic)”, when you admit to having feelings of anxiety or depression. 

I have reached that age when I resolve to cut the negative intergenerational ways of thinking for the benefit of my children. There is strength in knowing one’s limitations and it is brave to admit that help is needed. I felt that in my case, an objective professional was ideal.

During my final session this afternoon, I mentioned that I was imagining myself holding on to a piece of paper representing that traumatic memory/event that I just processed fully, putting it in a manila folder, and inserting said folder in a filing cabinet. Closed. It’s done. It happened, but let’s archive this. Not the type of archiving action such as in a container exercise…I don’t have to go back to it. Even if I did, it wouldn’t cause some emotion to come up. It has been processed and is simply for record keeeping. Maybe it could be disposed after a few years just like how certain types of research data are discarded after a set number of years after completion of the project. Something like that.

So cheers to us! As we navigate through existence aboard al dente spaghetti-like strings…let us flow through life in parallel, asymptotically, or maybe when fate is being cheeky—in entangled yet organized chaos.

*curtsy*