Currently on a train to Edinburgh, which seems to be a funny place to sort of find the only time you can sit down and think. Last week, my dad and sister arrived from Manila — presumably to visit me, but also they have timed their holiday, fortuitously, with the Wimbledon matches this year — and that coincided with the end of my first year at uni, for which I had to write an essay, which took up most of the time of the weeks leading up to it.
(Unnecessarily long lead-up, but basically I have been busy with school and fambly time and so, the train ride it is.)
I first flew in on the 10th of October, but am done with my first year of school, which is a little weird (for some reason), but here we are. We handed our third essay for the year on the 18th and met up for drinks after. An England match was on and the pub we were in erupted in celebrations when “we” won. So, uh, so did we, but I suppose for different reasons.
RELIEF! FRESHLY SHOWERED! READY TO GET SMASHED!
(If anyone was interested in reading my Unit I essay, which is my favourite one of the three I wrote, I uploaded it here. And like… it’s not super good, but I got okay marks on it, so it’s like 🤷♀️ but also, I’m 🎉🎉🎉
It’s about decolonisation and linguistics and deconstruction and Martha Atienza and ati-atihan… essentially.)
Zaxx came over my house yesterday (I did three loads of laundry and said hi to my plants and housemates), and she asked me if I felt smarter, and although I would have usually waffled and hemmed and hawed, my answer this time was an unequivocal “yes.” Because I do feel smarter, but whether it’s the kind of smart that’s useful or not, that’s still up for debate, haha.
Anyway, I was in a not-so-good place in the weeks leading up to summer. Basically, I was a useless lump that couldn’t be bothered to do anything other than the bare minimum, but was somehow roused from that when Isa and Crae came for a visit.
And, also, seeing Rostam perform and him opening and closing with “Don’t Let It Get to You,” which I was so glad I showed up for because I was thinking of flaking… on plans with myself.
To be honest, I am convinced more and more that depressive episodes are really cyclical, and although medication helps to manage it, there is a a possibility that it will never go away. Soooo I think I’ve learned how to sort of come to terms with that (and spoke a bit about it here, thanks to Gabbie) and just ride things out. I think that learning that you can resurface has helped me manage my stupid fucking headspace when it gets annoying and suffocating.
Isa and Crae have returned to Manila and my dad and sister are here for about two more weeks. I still feel a little bit untethered… but I think I’m breathing a little better, so that’s something.
So, I’ve taken my family around a fair bit. We’ve gone around West, East, South East, and even Brighton, and now on the way to Edinburgh. We’ve still got a few places to tick off, but I think we’ve covered pretty good ground.
The first book I finished reading after all of my research reading was John Berger’s “Hold Everything Dear,” which was beautiful (as usual) and timely (even though it was written more than a decade ago; which is like… depressing, a bit, since the world is still where it is, or possibly even in a worse place) and also still the kind of writing I wish I could do. I feel selfish a lot of the time… or more like self-centered and navel-gaze-y. Which, to be honest, isn’t much different from how I feel like I was prior to my move.
But my point is that Berger makes it feel like it’s possible to comment on current events and important things with a specificity and a perspective that doesn’t teeter on self-centeredness. And it feels important and compassionate and right. And I’d like to write like that, someday, I think. (My brain is too noisy or too quiet and it doesn’t feel like I have anything to say, really.) I’m happy that I get to read what he has to say, though. He’s written so much, but it also never feels like there’s quite enough of it to go around.