Isla Haraya: Maria (Published under IMMAC)

Chapter 8: The Calm Before the Storm

Trigger warning: May contain sensitive topics such as death, sex, profanity, suicide, self-harm, drugs, alcohol, mental health, sexuality, etc. Please be guided accordingly and read at your own risk.

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I always saw being alone as something to be happy about. To me, it was independence and freedom. In a way, being alone meant that I did not have to depend on other people to make decisions for me, I did not have to follow what others wanted me to do, and I could do and say what I felt was right for me.

To me, being alone was comfortable.

Ever since I was young, I was usually left on my own. I was not allowed to play with classmates or neighbors, and my cousins had their own thing even when we were kids. Even since then, I had already been trying to look for a place in this world and I had been struggling to find my place because I did not seem to fit in anywhere.

A part of me thought that maybe I was just being way too picky, that maybe I was trying to fit in a place where I wanted to be but not where I was meant to be. I tried to be patient and understanding that maybe my timing was different than everyone else around me who seemed to have found their places quite fast. And I knew that other people had their own struggles and that I was not alone and not the only one struggling in this world, but there was that point in my life when it was so much easier to focus on the bad things than the good things in life. Whenever I looked around me, all I could see were smiles, and all I could hear was laughter. It felt like the world was mocking me while I suffered in silence with no one to lean on.

Sadly, my family never really acknowledged or noticed that I might have been sad...or maybe even depressed. I did not want to self-diagnose, so I always said that I was sad or just very sad. To them, it was just me being dramatic and they never understood why I was such a gloomy child when they have provided everything they thought and knew that I needed.

And I always felt bad because they were right. They put a roof above my head, made sure I was clothed and fed and gave me a good education to help me achieve all the things I have achieved so far.

So whenever I felt bad, I also felt guilty that I was asking for more when everything should have been enough. It really pained me to disregard my own feelings but I really thought I was just being way too greedy. After all, I need to learn how to be satisfied, right?

When I woke up, alone in my cabin with swollen eyes, the feeling was all too familiar to me. It was not the first time but, God, I wished it was the last time.

I took a shower and changed into a light sweater and pants, not feeling the island vibe at the moment. And the sweater would feel like a hug, which I obviously needed but would not ask for and it was not as if I was going to get one anyway.

And just as I was about to head out, I was surprised to see that it was raining hard. Inside, it sounded more like a drizzle but outside, it was close to a storm, especially with how dark the sky was—a brewing swirl of gray and steel gray. With that kind of weather, I thought that it would be ideal to stay indoors.

But there were days when it rains,

like the skies wanted to sympathize

and tell me that I wasn't alone...

There were days when I felt heard,

somehow.

But was it really for me?

But I knew that staying in would just make me wallow in sadness until I end up crying myself to sleep again.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my bag, with my notebook in it, before heading out. Since some of the activities were probably not available, I decided to head to the café instead.

Despite the weather, I could see fellow guests walking around and trying to figure out what they would do for the day. And even if it was my choice to go here alone, I felt that tinge of jealousy nipping at my heart when I looked at how happy they all looked, spending time with their loved ones.

As much as I wanted to take a peek at my phone, I was scared to see all those messages again. I honestly had not recovered from the previous day's messages from Nanay, Tatay, and Kuya. They all pretty much stained this trip with the thought that I was, once again, selfish that I put going on a trip first than being there with them.

But was I really wrong?

Was it so wrong to take a breather and just enjoy something that I had wanted to do for so long? Was it so selfish to want to take a break? Was it unacceptable to choose me once in a while? Was I really that bad of a person to give myself what they never did and probably never could?

Settling down at the café, I ordered a cup of coffee before I opened up my notebook and was welcomed by the scribbles that I have written for the entire year.

Every year, I would get a fresh new "365 Days" notebook that I would fill with scribbles and I would even glue important things (even receipts) just so I had a clear image of the things that happened on that day or week...and that entire year. It always felt like a good flashback to see if I grew or if I just reverted to old habits that I thought I was sober from. Either way, tracking my progress felt like a good thing to do to be aware.

But sometimes, I just get lost between the pages or somewhere along the lines of the past, wondering when things would change.

"Choose happiness," they said. And I tried my best to keep on choosing what was going to make me happy but every drop of joy seemed to have an ounce of pain accompanying it after that last smile or that last laugh. No matter what, happy days always ended in tears.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice cut through my thoughts. As I looked up, it was...

"Sarah? Oh, it's not. You can take it," I answered, forcing a smile but tears were brimming my eyes at that time.

"Thank you," she answered as she grabbed the chair but then she looked back at me. "Are you okay?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes were so soft and kind and her presence just felt light.

I nodded. My eyes probably said otherwise but I nodded. "Yeah, of course. Have a wonderful day," I said, my voice breaking at the end.

It was obvious that she did not believe me but she did not pry. And as she walked away, I finished up my coffee and paid for it, took my notebook, and then headed back to the cabin without another word.

Being back inside my bubble, I felt somewhat safe. Not fully, but at least a little bit. Just enough for me to let the tears stream down my face. I sat on the bed and opened the notebook with a pen in hand. The tears blurred my vision so I was not able to see everything. I could not read a single thing as I sobbed right there, tears dropping on the pages.

"I want to be okay," I whispered to myself, thinking that maybe those were the magic words to be okay. Maybe saying things could manifest them. "I want to be okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm...okay."

But nothing.

Another night of crying myself to sleep again, I guessed.

Curled up under the blanket, my phone was right next to me. The small light at the corner indicated that there were messages or notifications that needed to be read. I reached out to open it up, desperate to find a connection that would ease my mind, but I was welcomed by messages again.

And I was not able to read everything anymore. I only saw some and I just...shut down.

[Tatay]: You don't do bad things to your family.

[Kuya Joshua]: I thought you'd understand.

Why did I even bother? Why did I even try?

That was the thing about them—if it was them, I needed to understand them but if it was me, they did not have to understand anything.

Nothing was for me.

No matter if I beg.

No matter if I try.

There was nothing left...

...for me.

[Daniel]: I'm coming to see you.