To more 10 hours of sleep

The District Press Conference

Individual and Group categories.

Among every category, I was most confident in Editorial Writing. Feature Writing, not so much. The difference in confidence lay in how much my head was contained of emptiness when the ideas stayed out of it. I ended up being able to write for 2 hours straight and only making it in the category I felt least confident.

I may have expected to get into the Editorial Writing placements- it seemed my hopes were too high. And to be truthful, my heart sank when I heard 9th place.

In my head, I could have been so much more. But I realized I was the only one putting myself on a pedestal. I was the only one who put pressure on myself. I was my greatest nemesis.

On January 7, the group competitions were held.

Having been my first time competing in the Group category, I was anxious. I felt as if I was never really able to comprehend what I needed to do, what I had to improve on, and what I was doing. The whole domain of it was so unknown to me despite lay-outing for so long.

I still tried my best- but maybe I should have slept the night before, eaten before I left, and prepared more the night before. Nevertheless, in retrospect, I cannot blame myself for what turned out to be. I was everything all at once. How was I supposed to stop when everything was uncontrollably in constant motion?

But really, I just wanted to be a journalist that day. And so, I did.

Winning 3rd on the Features page for Collaborative Desktop Publishing was unbelievable to me. Although I wished my group had made it to the Top 3 schools, I was proud.

It was a fun occasion overall. I remember pondering, “Wow, I get to experience high school this way.” After all, I am a grade 12 student.

Oh yeah, I’m a grade 12 student.

Throughout the whole thing, there was this fear in me. It wasn’t of not doing enough nor being enough. It was of leaving with regrets.

But— among other subject teachers, I found that Cordero was the most patient.

To this day, I do not know what value will molecules, chemical bonds, scientific formulas, force, sound waves, and chemical imbalances bring me. If I heard those scientific jargon and highfaluting terminologies again, I’m sure they would echo through my left ear and out of the other. Until our final tests, I had average scores– some I still succeeded to fail.

However, beyond my inability to fully comprehend what he had taught was my will to keep trying.

No matter how much I had fallen short in his subject, Cordero never stopped believing in me. At one point in this school year, those jargons and terminologies made sense, for he never failed to explain them. At one point, what he had taught, I found valuable in my student life. At one point, I allowed myself to just be where I was, still trying because he believed in me— despite the wrong answers in recitations, wrong calculations, and failing scores.

Now, it's clear to me.

I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly love Science.

I woke up one day and looked forward to trying again. Because, for another day, Cordero will repeat those same jargons and terminologies, until I finally understood them.

Walking back to class, with my lunch bag in hand, I find myself looking forward to one last discussion with Cordero, knowing well that this is the Science I wish to continue knowing now.

When I returned to the Philippines, I left so many things behind in Qatar. All the things I could not do or experience there, I tried to do here. Then there was this massive void in my heart I wanted to fill. I realized it was because I had regrets. And I didn’t want to experience that again. Maybe that’s where the disappointment in myself came from. The imposter syndrome.

With such an unexpected outcome (winning in Features), I remembered what I first applied for in Journalism: cartooning and feature writing- so maybe everything was going to work out, right?

The Division Press Conference

February 25, 2023.

I had to be in school by 6 am- but to begin the day, I woke up at 7 am. My body took too literally what sir Gelo had said the day before, “matulog ka, Cheska.” And so I did, for 10 hours straight.

The day before the press conference, or the 10 hours of sleep, I had to prepare for my first-ever communion in church. As always, I was sleep-deprived- if no one could already tell by the deep weights my eyes carried underneath. However, I ate food, wore my new white dress, and cut the fabric we bought the day before for my veil. I was prepared until I realized at church that I had left the veil at home. First unfortunate event of the day.

Then, I had to go to school to train. Sadly, for my broken body and brain, I had to take my exams at the same time. The sequence of unfortunate events was starting to roll. This occurrence stalled my time to write a feature paper about the spirit of EDSA.

Having finished all my exams by 3:30 pm, I finally got to focus on writing and not just look to the left and right of my screen trying to write and ace the exam. Because of this, I decided to stay with our sports writers, and past dismissal time to finish my article. I was not going to leave without getting it done.

I may have not realized it then, but I see it now. I wanted it. No, not the win. I wanted fulfillment for everything I’ve broken, sacrificed, and done to get there. To get here. I wanted to compensate for the damage I had inflicted on myself, my academic life, and my social relationships. There even came a point when I couldn’t bring myself to open my bedroom door and get out of bed- because I was just scared.

I constantly asked myself, “will it always be this way?”

“Will I live through my life sleepless?”

“What reward will I get other than a certificate?”

Many questions flooded my mind and eventually drowned me in a deeper hole. But in the back of my mind, I knew the answers.

It is only this way because I chose this path. I am only sleepless because I must stay awake. And although certificates stay as physical entities, they give value. They represent how hard one has worked for something. They acknowledge the blood, sweat, and tears that no one else might even recognize.

As much as I knew that a mere piece of paper would not define how wonderful and vast my mind and creativity are, I also knew it would be the pride of my mother and father, who kept asking if I had gotten rest. The pride of my friends, who I feared I would burden if I asked for help. The pride in myself, who always tried her best- in the form of a paper.

So I left school at 5 pm. I was awake until 10 pm preparing for a Business Finance report for the coming week. Then, I fell asleep. And so the sun rose, and my eyes stayed closed.

Now, first, why did I not wake up? How did no one wake me up when I was so all about it for months?

To be honest, I felt a bit disappointed. That morning was amplified proof among the many other mornings before it that I was alone. I was the only one pushing myself to get where I wanted to be.

During the drive going to San Francisco

High School, I cried. I prayed. There was no way I wouldn’t make it. There was absolutely no way I would forgive myself for missing something I sacrificed so much for.

There was no way I would just give up.

All of this- perhaps so much more, manifested into my day.

And so I wrote, given the prompt and the fact sheet. I finished on time- 5 minutes earlier than due, to be exact. I submitted that piece of paper with so much doubt traced with my fingerprints. I stepped out of the room with the new friend I made, greeted by the lovely Janna. Then, I walked down the stairs just as my chest filled with this feeling of I couldn’t pinpoint what.

I knew something was wrong- because this was not how I should be feeling. I knew I wasn’t okay, and I knew I was slowly giving up on myself.

In my head, I was practicing multiple sorry’s to my mom, dad, and sister. They had to watch me struggle and not be able to do anything to help. They spent so much money and gave so much of their trust just because they believed in me.

I was rehearsing the words to say to sir Gelo and sir Noli when it wouldn’t work out. I was sure it wouldn’t. I was going to tell them that I was sorry- that I really did try- it just wasn’t enough. I really did do my best to attend every training session to improve myself. All my efforts just weren’t enough. I was so sorry.

The rest of the event and the ride home, my mind was stuck on how I could’ve done better. Opening the gate and stepping into our home, I saw my aunt and uncle. They asked how I felt about the competition- if I had felt I would win. I responded, saying it went okay, knowing deep in my heart that it probably didn’t- knowing that I have never been more uncertain of something.

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