My FB comment as to the main reason bloggers lose their readers

One of my longest FB acquaintance, Doug, is agonizing over lack of blog readership recently and I just have to share my sentiments as to why.

“As a long-time WordPress resident, I’ve repeatedly observed how even the most popular bloggers lose their followers, one by one, over time — and the reason is seldom personal. Either the readers also obtained struggles of their own or became preoccupied with other pressing matters.
Typical to the grounds why highly-beloved TV shows get cancelled eventually. People’s interest understandably drifts off, not to mention their tastes keep evolving. But it’s hardly a reflection of the artist’s excellent skill.

I forgot to attribute the fair amount of camaraderie between those WordPress bloggers and their remaining followers. A two-way street, to boot, nonetheless.”

journal writing 2

Just more than a year ago, I was thinking I’m having the best time of my life. It’s not perfect but things feel alright. There’s the future I look forward to — because I’m healthy, I feel young and I’m free. Everything seems fine. I thought it would go on forever.
But now, I don’t think happiness will come to rest on my palm again. Heartbreak and sadness out of my recent losses have simply taken over.

“Choose life, Carry on no matter what, Hold on tighter to the Lord”.
I keep these advice on mind.

But there are times I don’t know what to feel anymore. I don’t even know how to view sorrow — if there really is the right way to handle it. And I’m not sure I would want to forget or let go of this heavy heart, too. Sounds strange, I know. It’s like I now possess a clearer understanding why some people get attached to loneliness and quiet despair. It’s like the choice of holding on to all that’s been precious feels more right or somehow better. It’s so hard to put into words. But now I’m beginning to get it.

My Biggest Heartbreak

Nearly a year ago from today, I had relayed to you how I prayed hard for a dearest one to survive, to stay alive. God answered my prayer — and she and I were able to spend Christmas and New year in the ancestral home we just moved into. Then I lost my brother last January. The past six months that followed had been one of the saddest periods of my existence.

Unbeknown to me, an even larger sorrow had been looming ahead. Another tragedy would hit that would leave me with a deeper sense of loss. And it would take place within a span of two weeks this July.

After my son’s final departure eight years ago, nobody was left — only me and her. My friend, don’t think of me absurd when I reveal to you she isn’t human. Do take into account my deep compassion for God’s other creations since my younger days.

People have hurt me — but she, my baby, had given me only love, devotion, true companionship. Through nearly nineteen years of togetherness. She was simply there for me — through thick and thin. A fact I could’ve taken for granted many times.

Today exactly marks the third week she’s been gone. I had previously thought I’d feel alright somehow when this day ever arrived. That there would be a little sense of relief when this time would come — considering how I’d sometimes get overwhelmed by all my tasks and responsibilities, and how she could be a handful on certain occasions. How dead wrong I was. I now feel devastated losing her. It’s like I’ve lost a major reason to go on. What little joy that’s been left before is now completely gone.
What I would give if only she could be with me again.

I couldn’t sleep during her final days as I tried to make her feel she wasn’t alone during her last moments. As a result, I felt nauseous throughout the ordeal. When she manifested signs she was in excruciating pain, I couldn’t take it anymore I called my sister and asked her to assist me to go to the vet so she could be finally put to rest.

She’d been sick in the past I knew this could be it — due to her age. I must forgive myself for not being able to save her this time — and for being clueless she might already have been agonizingly afflicted even before she stopped eating and drinking. I decided I’d leave it to God and fate this time. I didn’t want her to die solitarily in some vet clinic — and I’d prefer she’d go before me because she’d be left with no one if I perished ahead of her. But you know how guilt could strike in the face of tragedy and despair I keep second-guessing myself for every decision made, now that it’s all over.

One thing you should know about me, my friend: When I witnessed my father, my mother, my brother and my pets’ physical sufferings before God claimed back their lives, I ended up loving them a thousand times more. It’s simply the way it is with me.

Mornings are the hardest when I had been used to my baby feline’s sweet greetings whenever I open my bedroom door after waking and getting up.
It feels so strange and painful these days getting through the day living without her. She was a constant and a substantial part of my existence. I now go through every motion with the heaviest heart. She’s always on my mind as memories keep flooding in. She wasn’t a mere cat to me. She was my baby, my dearest child.

Her love and attachment to me I had felt in spite of her circumstances. I’m more sure than ever that if she could have the chance today, she’d express to me her wish that I survive this heartbreak. That I must keep going on.

I had taken care of pet dogs in my earlier years, too, and how I love and cherish each of them to this day. My fervent wish to the Lord is that there really exists a heaven for all these wonderful creatures. Because I want to see again and be reunited with all the pets I’ve loved my whole life, this time for eternity.

No Greater Love…

I couldn’t save you anymore, yet you kept saving me, even after you were gone.

You are not just a pet. You are my child, now and forever.

Nineteen years of togetherness, just you and I for so many years. My one true baby, my greatest joy, my deepest love, now my angel up above.

Never will I forget you until my very last breath.

My baby was put to sleep July 16 2022, Saturday, around 6:45 p.m. bcz I couldn’t bear watching her suffer so much pain anymore.

Mourning

I’m at my lowest point right now. The pain of recently losing a loved one permanently, in parallel to my experience when I lost my parents, has completely thrown me off — surprisingly weighing heavier than I had thought because I’m having a very difficult time accepting I won’t see my vibrant baby brother nor hear his voice ever and laugh hard at his never-ending jokes again.

A month nary has passed since I lost him. The deep wound punctured by his departure may never heal. But I know I’ll get by and I am determined to spring towards the finish line, no matter how.

I’m doing my very best to manage this toughest period of my life by working out, eating low-fat meals, reading, and writing. I feel jaded for now by social media trifles and seek more online mind challenges as part of my coping strategy.

Never had I thought losing Cliff would be this hard. I didn’t expect I’d feel this much grief and sadness.

Yesterday was his 55th birthday. Happy Birthday, dear brother. I love you and miss you so much.

Gone Too Soon — Farewell to my dearest baby brother

How do you start the the year right when you are carrying within you a heaviest heart?

When for the first time in a long long while, I am relearning the true meaning of sadness.
When thoughts that occupy my mind have been the number of times I had failed my baby brother and the fact I wasn’t able to save him nor protect him. How I wish I had spent more time with him and that I had tried to be more understanding during our trying periods as siblings.

What a year that begins with a blow to my soul I might never recover from. The world seems to have turned colder, emptier, darker, smaller. I die every minute it dawns on me that I will never see nor hear my brother Clifford again. That another loved one has been forever severed from me.

My brother who was constantly full of life, of hopes, of never-ending jokes. Our animated face-to-face table discussions, our no-holds-barred conversations, our outpouring of confidences, his hysterical humor — were all legendary.
Clifford fought for his life — he had wanted to stay longer. The Sinovac jab, however, accelerated his illness and things went downhill rapidly. Gone at fifty-four years of age. Too young to perish.

I go for a walk these nights and think, how will I ever recover? His physical sufferings too traumatic to recall. The touching moments during his last days that I witnessed — as a father to his daughter, as a husband to his wife. The unforgettable New year’s eve when I entered his bedroom and found him talking to himself — I greeted him Happy New Year and he greeted me back. Once again, he was the baby brother I had loved so much and protected when we were kids. I told him I loved him and he said he loved me too. It was one of the happiest moments of my life… because that was the first and last time we would express our love for each other.

Clifford’s six-year-old daughter will grow up and be carving her own life while tugging a few, hazy, and faded recollections of her loving dad. His young common-law wife will no doubt remarry soon. He devoted the last seven years of his precious life to them. But soon enough they will both inevitably forget him. And me? I have the remaining years of my life to remember Clifford by. All the laughter, the joy, the conflicts, the pain… For so long, my brother had occupied a huge portion of my existence. So I’ll be left with only my grief, my enduring memories, and my devotion for my younger brother that would last till the end of my days. There’s nothing left. Only my sorrow that will roll on and on until my very last breath.


An Online Love Story – Conclusion

I doubt if C and I will talk again. Nobody wants a less-than-pleasing “breakup.” The sentiment we shouldn’t have added the “romance” in the first place I expressed to him; not feeling regretful about it all nevertheless. Deep inside, a fraction of good sense exists to have left him a better person bcz I built up his morale in every way I could during our better days.

Another important thing I’ve proven: One crucial question a woman should always ask herself before entering into an affair of the heart: “What has been his life before I came in?” The answer to that will ultimately give her the clarity she needs.

There is really something about standing by one’s values — the honesty and fidelity I’ve repeatedly imposed from men I had cherished. My constitution fosters the ideology any type of love affinity can only be true and authentic when faithfulness and commitment are present. How I can’t be in something that isn’t true. Boy am I glad to have stuck by those ideals one more time.

Writing this story has been cathartic. Soon after I released my story-letter, this week started with my pummeled interior easing off. I also feel like I’ve got my old life back. My days and nights are now chat-free — free of mere sweet slick talking which, in hindsight, was an unproductive use of my energy and time. No more restlessness over thoughts a “boyfriend” has been taking me for a ride. Nowadays, I can focus on my priorities and perform tasks and personal projects diligently.

I hope nothing like this will happen to me again. That I may never imperil my serenity with the remaining precious time left God has granted me.

Thank you, my dear friend, for allowing me to share what has pressed hard against my heart these past few weeks. What a privilege it’s been to be heard and understood once more by you.

Sincerely,
geena

An Online Love Story – part 2

Additional issues spewed one by one between C and I apart from the basic adversity of our long-distance love affair: An “ex-gf now bestfriend” he still runs errands for and goes out for taco dinner at least twice a month and only god knows what else; his highly active social interaction with other “gal pals”; his imperative for pretty much everything to stay the same as before when it invokes his liberty.

“There’s something about internet friendships that lack depth and meaning, they are relationships bound by barriers. Don’t you agree?”

Your exact words to me, my friend, in our correspondence of late.

You were essentially right. Still, I chose to remain engrossed staying inside my bubble, dismissing what it might cost me in the end.

C had laid plans as to my joining him permanently in his Kansas home very soon. Cognizant of sweet-talking manners embedded in his nature, I was nonchalant; albeit kindling the possibility he could shelter real deep feelings for me. Both of us had pledged true love for each other during the early days of our ardent affinity, in aspiration for whatever grandeur it might spring.

But instead, at each passing day, the gnawing sense we had made a mistake of inserting “romance” to our once-plain friendship kept growing — to the point I started contemplating how I could extricate myself from this bogus liaison without much jumble, considering his temperament (chiefly brought about by his not so healthy condition).

Maybe I should just get a bigger life. Let him have his fun while allowing my name to remain in his relationship status. Maybe I should ignore moments when I felt empty in the course of our web exchanges. Maybe I should just ride out the intricacies of this online union — despite the unhappiness that has kept mounting.

Then came the breaking point: Accidentally learning another recent new errand he had to run for his ex-gf turned bestfriend. I couldn’t take it anymore. Being half a world away from the man who texts loving words day and night and calls me his girlfriend — as the woman he said he’d wished for all his life… who, in actuality, is a woman clueless on proceedings personally transpiring behind her back.

I was right. The impending breakup wouldn’t be less than turbulent. I wanted the friendship to stay on, yet words hurled were painful.

-(to be concluded)-

While You Were Away

My friend, do you remember that genial sunny afternoon when you revealed a precious segment of your history in spite of the half a world distance that separates you from me? Such deed on your end bestowed the pleasant conception of having gained your trust and the seal our more than three years of camaraderie coveted. Yet soon after, an inexplicable disconnect took place which in its aftermath made me think it could be irreversible this time.

My goal nonetheless to push through on resurrecting my love for writing was strong it led me to rejuvenate a friendship with one of my oldest facebook pals. It brought me to ask this friend directly if he could be my reader. And he said yes. A couple of days after, he professed his affection with the desire to become more than just my reader. Seeing nothing wrong as both of us are single, I granted his request.

Let’s call him C. C is far from my typical dream guy because all my life, I’ve gone for the muscled and physically-fit type. His cerebral mind and erudite diction, however, were impressive enough to overlook the physical demerits.

I prefer strong men — he was an ex-soldier and deputy who projected toughness and robustness. Having said that, he could casually wield sweetness from his core. Most importantly, upon giving my condition of us never to engage in online sex talk, he unequivocally complied.

We’re of the same age. We share the same appetite to stretch life into wide yonder — plus an unceasing endeavor to shape this world to a luscious orb. His passion for riding motorbikes  has turned as more than a mild interest for me; to become a free-spirited female biker was one of my unrealized dreams.

Morning and evening of texting and chatting; that amount of attention and sharing (frivolous matters, our innermost thoughts, his past) between us two felt favorable…and for the first time in a long while, someone was with me day in and day out.

In spite of his ideal stature, he’s been out of shape — and he’s got diabetes, one of his few medical ailments. Hardly the quintessential dude that I could look up to and be proud of. Still, a gradual realization occurred: There will come a point in our lives when we embrace something not based on our long-held standards, but instead, based purely on a decision. I simply made the decision to love him.

To accept him for everything that he is even though he cannot meet certain benchmarks I have long fostered.

His declaration on his fb page we are a couple incipiently provided me the drift of acknowledgment and felicity I’ve since missed, in view of his extensive social circle. Things felt good for the time being.

Until reality began to set in.

(to be continued)

Days like this

Hope you don’t mind if I share every now and then little facts of my existence:
Both my brother and sister are not in their best health. I’m not saying mine is perfect, there are demons (esp as to giving in to sweets and carbs) I continue to battle — but my siblings always have been more than reluctant to sacrifice the good stuff they’ve been used to in exchange for an improved sense well-being.
I could only subscribe to the old maxim “we get what we deserve.” The problem is both their medical conditions could’ve been contributing to the gloom and tension that blasted soon after my brother’s cancer diagnosis a few months ago.

I was raised from a very broken family. My parents despised each other. There was division between as our parents required their children to take sides. And it carried on even long after our parents’ death.

Among us three, my father’s looks, determination and character had been passed on to me. If my acute bashfulness hadn’t been an obstacle, I strongly believe I wouldn’t have been an underachiever. I could say the same for my misanthropic streak which could’ve been borne out of a solitary upbringing bcz my parents hardly paid attention to me when I was growing up. No no, this isn’t a “poor me” piece.  Although there had been countless times when I bled profusely and managed so as not to let anyone notice, I more often appreciate the strength and independence my exiled introvert being have afforded me.
Today has been more of a rough day and I hope writing something will somehow redeem my spirits.