The Why But Not Yet the How... Saturday, January 12

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I’ve never felt so alone as I did tonight and perhaps revealing this makes me super vulnerable.  So be it.  This is my homepage, an online diary where I vent and spill my beans.  I don’t know who is reading this but I know the numbers; I know I have quite the following, just don’t know exactly who you all are.

So, this is me being totally honest and vulnerable.  There's no shame in that.  It's called being human; being human like the rest of you.  I'm owed that right.

Correction on feeling alone though, I have been this alone and I remember it too.  The last time I felt this alone I was sitting at Hulk’s in Korea, at the juice bar front counter where my computer sits in the corner.  I had clocked out, mentally.  The next day I clocked out physically -- I left Korea.

Sometimes I think about leaving the Philippines, about just getting up and leaving with whatever I can pack in my bag, like I did with Korea.   Just get up and pick a different country to start all over in.  I’ve restarted life three times now -- when I moved to Korea after university, when I left Korea for Canada after 11.5 years, and then when I arrived in the Philippines 2 years ago.

I’m not new to starting over.  I could do it again.  I’d pick Sri Lanka for my next life.

Today I sat down to write a letter to my father, to ask him to financially ask him to help me with securing my space for my private boxing club and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  The more I wrote the more I realized this will never work.  It will totally break my relationship not only with him but with my brothers and possibly the rest of my family if they caught wind of me asking him.

You just don’t ask for financial help in my family.

You don’t really ask for help, period.  Well, at least I wasn’t raised to.

Skittles suggested me to write it and though I’m not putting the blame on him here, I also know that if it were solely up to me I would definitely not have even pondered the idea of asking my father for help.

I choose to be homeless in my university days over asking him for help.

I choose to stay in a toxic relationship in Korea over asking him for help.

I choose many things that I wouldn’t naturally have over asking him for help.

I have never choose my father to help me because I wasn’t raised that way.  I was raised to answer my own problems and that for every action has a reaction, a consequence that I have to face up to.  And if I wanted different consequences, I should make wiser choices, better actions.

I’m over hearing about my dad’s mortgage story, the story about how the banks rejected him and my mom’s request for financial help and how they told them to their faces that they’d never make their plans a reality.  But they did it.  They figured it out.  They made it work despite the odds that were staked so high against them.

I don’t know how I’m going to make this work, I have absolutely no idea, but I know it will never come down to my father helping me. 

I really have to woman the hell up, just not sure on how to go about it.

I know my why but not my how.