One-pot Pinoy Goulash

The sweet version of an American comfort food using one pot and cooked within an hour. 

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, diced

6 cloves of garlic, minced

1 red bell pepper and 1 green bell pepper, diced

500g ground beef 

2 beef cubes (optional) 

2 400g cans of diced tomatoes 

2 200g packs of Pinoy Style tomato sauce

2 tablespoons soy sauce

4 tablespoons brown sugar

4 bay leaves

1 tablespoon Italian seasoning

1 tablespoon oregano

1/2 tablespoon Cayenne pepper (or chili flakes) 

1 cup malunggay

500g elbow macaroni

4 tablespoons parmesan cheese

4 cups of water

Salt and ground pepper to taste

Procedure:

1. Sauté the garlic in olive oil until light brown. Add the onions until translucent. Add the bell pepper and continue to sauté for a minute or two. 

2. Add the ground beef and continue to sauté on medium heat until cooked. Season with salt and ground pepper. 

3. Add the diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, soy sauce, bay leaves, Italian seasoning, oregano, cayenne pepper, beef cubes, and 2 cups of water. Bring to a boil and let it simmer covered for 30 minutes. Stir occasionally to remove the crust at the bottom of the pot. 

4. Add the brown sugar and 1 cup of water. Stir to combine. 

5. Add the macaroni and stir. Cook until pasta is al dente (usually 10-15 minutes). Stir occasionally to remove pasta at the bottom of the pot. Add water as needed. 

6. Once the pasta is cooked and the sauce is reduced, season with salt and ground pepper to taste. Add the malunggay and mix. Let it simmer for a minute. 

7.  Turn off the heat and add the parmesan cheese one tablespoon at a time while mixing. 

8. Enjoy! ❤️ 

The Perfect Garlic Butter Shrimp

This recipe is a result of research in a span of a decade. The secret, I've discovered from other dishes, is to saute the shrimp first, remove once done, and prepare the sauce in the same pan. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

1 lb medium-sized shrimp (preferred over prawn, fresh over frozen, unpeeled)

1 cup lemon soda (7 Up preferred)

1 stick of butter

1 bulb of garlic (minced)

Fresh basil (minced or you can also use dried) 

Parsley (minced)

Thyme (optional)

Italian seasoning (optional)

Cayenne pepper (optional)

1 spoonful of cornstarch dissolved in a spoonful of water

Procedure:

1. Peel the shrimp leaving the head and tail on. (Or you can remove but, personally, the best part is sucking on the head! Skip this step on a lazy day.)

2. Marinate the shrimp in the lemon soda for 10 to 30 minutes. Make sure that all shrimps are covered.

3. Mince the garlic, basil, and parsley. (My favorite part! I love the smell of garlic on my fingers.)

4. Melt half the butter in low heat. Once melted and before it gets hot, add the shrimp without the marinade. Set the lemon soda marinade aside. It's best if all the shrimp fits flat on the pan. Cook each side for 1-2 minutes until all parts have turned orange. Remove the shrimp from the pan. 

5. Add the garlic to the pan. Toss in the butter until golden brown (This happens in a minute! Don't blink!).
6. Add the lemon soda marinade into the pan along with the remaining butter and all the seasoning except for the parsley. Mix, cover, and bring to a boil.

7. Once boiling, remove the cover, and put in the cornstarch mixture.

8. Mix until the sauce thickens. Add some more cornstarch mixture based on your preference. Just dissolve the cornstarch in water first because it does not dissolve in hot water. (This I learned the hard way.)

9. Throw in the shrimp and gently toss to coat with the sauce. 

10. Transfer to a serving bowl, sprinkle with parsley on top, and enjoy!

Breathe

I want to talk about mental health for a bit.

Amidst all that I've had to endure the past five months, I snapped. A little over a week ago, I snapped.

First of, I would like to thank everyone who checked in on me after that very public meltdown. I uninstalled social media immediately afterward which prohibited me from posting/responding anymore.

Of course, I would like to thank my awesome fiancé who has been keeping me together and who picks me up every time I fall.

I've considered deleting my post. But, deleting the post does not delete it from my history. I figured that it would be a good reminder for me in the future. What's behind that illogical post, anyway? Well. This is going to be long.

It all started on September 30, 2019. My mom complained of stomach pain so she was rushed to Ospital ng Makati at her request. I shall save the details for later. Bottom line is that she spent over 16 hours at the ER which could have been longer had it not been for the help of my Betan family. Thus began my rage toward the current state of public healthcare in this country. (Rage because I've been angry at the lack of focus on public healthcare since Juan Flavier.)

A week later, we found out about the mass. I remember teasing my Mom where she hit her pancreas for it to have a bump. It was at this time as well when we found out about my silent miscarriage. Thus began my frustration toward life.

My mom's condition would go on to be a real debacle. We've had to get her a CT Scan privately because the hospital's queue would have had us wait for two weeks. Through all of it, my mom had faith in the government-run Osmak despite our pleas (including my fraternity brothers' recommendation) to seek medical attention in a private institution fueling my rage. My mother, a proletariat paying taxes all her life, trusted the government to take care of her. Who will not get mad at that.

By the time she had her surgery on December 18, 2019, the mass had grown from 3 cm in her initial CT scan to 10 cm. The doctors did not want to take the risk. It was beyond removal. The doctor showed us the photo. One could no longer tell the pancreas from the tumor. Thus began my feelings of regret.

With my mom's help, I tried my best to get rid of my negative feelings. She would say, "No regrets. No what-ifs. Pray. Have faith." And so, that's what I did.

But it became harder not to allow negativity as I watched her helpless in her pain. This woman who would tell of the story of giving birth at Ospital ng Maynila (another government-run hospital) sharing the bed with another woman in labor enduring the pain of a normal delivery and discovering the syringe of epidural anesthesia was on the bed unused afterward proving how high her threshold for pain was... This woman would not be able to sleep and can only scream out in pain because of the tumor. We begged everyone attending to her at OsMak to give her morphine. No, they said. They could only give her Paracetamol and Tramadol.

Four days before she expired, she was brought to the ER of Medical City. They immediately gave her morphine. It was only at this time that she felt relief since her first trip to the ER five months ago. And so, the dimming fire of my rage was further fanned.

Then, the pandemic reached the Philippines.

I wish I was more apathetic. I wish my parents did not raise me with the awareness of my privileges. It's a gift and a curse.

Seeing how the government is managing (or, more appropriately, mismanaging) the situation drove me to madness. It was even worsened by seeing how all these privileged people reacted to calls for action and improvement. Thus began my fear for how our country will recover from this.

And so... on that fateful day after a minor argument at home, I snapped.

After getting my emotions in check and addressing my mental health, this I must say. Not all men are trash. Those in our government are trash without a doubt. But no, not all men.

I know. I know. This was supposed to be about mental health. I am getting to that.

At this time of global crisis, we all have our personal crises to manage as well. IT IS OVERWHELMING. It's not even a possibility; it's a certainty. It's okay to have negative feelings. It's okay to be angry, to be scared, to be confused. What's not okay is to not address them.

Now, more than ever, we must pay attention to our needs and strictly adhere to our coping strategies. The first thing we need to accept is the reality that this is happening and to adapt our routines accordingly. Remember my post last year about mental health? Now I see that it was indeed preparing me for what's ahead. We cannot control this situation. We can only control how we react to it. The serenity prayer has been on loop in my head the past couple of weeks.

The government is already playing the lottery with our lives. Let's not do the same.

Here's a photo of today's sunrise. May this remind you like it reminded me that everything will be okay. This too shall. Life will move on.

Falling in love again

I used to hate my hair; it's never straight nor curly when I want it to be.
I used to hate my forehead; it's a third of my face.
I used to hate my eyebrows and eyelashes; they do not exist.
I used to hate my under eyes; they are always dark.
I used to hate my nose; it's too wide.
I used to hate my cheeks; they're too chubby.
I used to hate my teeth; they're still crooked after braces.
I used to hate my lips; they're unremarkable.
I used to hate my chin; it's too pointy.

I used to hate my face. I couldn't stand looking at it. I would avoid my reflection altogether especially in the girls' bathroom when I would see myself beside other girls who I thought were too pretty for comparison.

It's so easy to fall in love with other people, with places, with hobbies. Why was it so difficult to fall in love with my Self? I am one of the many girls who were raised in the "Barbie" culture. As a girl raised amongst boys, my standard of beauty was based on a mere doll.

I accepted that I am unpretty...

...until my Pops died.

I missed my Pops so much that with what I know of genetics, I looked for him in me. Slowly, I found myself falling in love with my face. I am the perfect combination of my mother and my father. I am their legacy to this world.

Excuse me if you see me posting my face. Never been a fan of posting selfies but I am still in the process of liking what I see on my selfies.

Keep posting your selfies. Live loud and proud.

I am a bipolar bear.

Big day for me today. I have just been assessed to be fit to go back out into the world.

A few months ago, I shared how much I had struggled with my mental health and I've been hesitant about sharing this journey out of fear but I believe it's high time that we continue talking about our personal struggles. Times have changed. People don't judge for mental health struggles anymore; people take advantage of it.

Embarrassing as it may be, I had a meltdown. Not because of work. Not because of my relationship. Not because of my family. Not because of the traffic nor the world in general. I had a meltdown because I had been genetically configured for the chemicals in my brain to be imbalanced. Anyone who is truly close to me has witnessed this first-hand. Anyone who is truly close to me knows how intense I can be. Guess what, normal people aren't intense all the time. Normal people can go on their days without obsessing about every little thing. Guess what, normal people don't think the way I do and that is why normal people can't do what I do, either.

Today, instead of living in shame and believing that I am cursed, I shall embrace what I have. I shall wear it like a medal, along with my heart on my sleeve. I have bipolar disorder. Let me be that person you know to have this condition. Let me be that person you ask for help from. I shall not give you advice. I shall direct you to where you can seek real help.

People are predisposed to reject and mock what they do not understand. I shall try to shed some light unto this illness. This is not who I am. This is not what my life is all about. I am a kind person. I am a sister, a friend, a girlfriend, a colleague, a mentor, a student, a writer, and a surfer. I am not bipolar.

Occasionally, my brain tells me I'm sad even when there is nothing to be sad about. What's bad is when something sad actually happens and then I'll have something to direct my sadness toward. This is the side of the illness that is called depression. Personally, it's worse when my brain tells me that I'm excited even when there is nothing to be excited about. It's good when good things happen. I get so hyped up and psyched that I can accomplish anything. I can go on for days without sleep - planning, thinking, and  working. What's bad is when something wrong happens. Did you know that the physical manifestations of excitement and anxiety are the same? Once the panic attacks begin, there is no turning back. Everything will irritate me and I will no longer have any control over how that irritation translates in my words and behavior. This is the side of the illness that is called mania.

I am not one to make excuses but there may be no better time than to apologize for all that I have said and done. I have been irresponsible and arrogant for not taking my medication regularly and relying on my self-control. I wish I could tell you that going to the beach makes everything better. I wish I could tell you that a warm hug takes away all the negativity. They help, yes. But they're not enough. No matter how well I take care of myself, I have to rely on a few tiny pills to be healthy.

(On a side note, the pills concoction isn't a *magic* potion that would change an asshole into a more acceptable human being. Your thoughts are your own. Your feelings are your own. If you think ill of people, no pill can change that. An attitude of gratitude is the only cure. Rainbows don't suddenly come out of your derriere when you're on anti-depressants. You still need to believe in the goodness in other people and, most importantly, in yourself.)

Today, I write this with the commitment that I won't leave my mental health to chance anymore (albeit with shaking hands as a side effect). Today, I am humbled to accept that I have a disability and I am proud to be handicapable.

To the girls he loved before me...

You are special. You are unique. I only know you from his stories, but I have much respect for you. Whilst I did not know the two of you when you were together and how your relationship was, I wish you understand that I was you. We are all just looking for love and to be loved and I know how painful it must have been to realize that your attempt at it did not work out. I'm sorry that you were both hurt. I can only hope that you both appreciate the time you had spent together to only remember the happy memories. I can only hope that you are as happy now as we are.

I hope that at this point in your life, someone had made you realize what I realized being with him. People come and go in our lives and each one has a purpose. And then there's that one person... That one person who truly will make you understand why your past relationships had to end. That one person who makes you smile every waking moment of every day. That one person who can't seem to upset you. That one person who knows how you will feel even before you do. That one person who speaks the language of your soul. That one person who gives you strength and peace of mind to face the unknown future. That one person... who for me happened to be him.

I pray that you have found whatever was lacking that made the two of you give up. I pray that wherever you are in life, you are at peace with the decisions you have made. I pray that you are contented with the person that the relationship and its end had turned you into.

There really is nothing much left to be said but thank you. Thank you for taking care of him and for loving him before he found me. Thank you for helping him realize the kind of partner he would like to be and thank you for helping him become the person that he is. I am infinitely grateful for you.

If we do end up meeting each other, no need to worry about any awkward silence. You will forever be a part of his life... and, now, you are a part of mine too.

My best life ever

I should be in Siargao right now. Instead, I'm in the city... attending to my responsibilities.

It's easy to be happy when everything is going well and according to plan. How are you when your plans fall apart?

The past couple of weeks have been tough on my mental health. I had to exert extra effort not to succumb to the pressure and exhaustion brought about by life (not just work, mind you). I wasn't going to share this. But, in light of recent events, I feel that posting this, while detrimental to my privacy, may be beneficial more to those who may be struggling as I was.

It broke my heart that so many people shared that video. I knew him. I knew of his demons. While what happened is sensational, it was hard for me to believe how desensitized people have become over death. This is a human being in his weakest and most vulnerable. And there are people he left behind who have to deal with this loss. Read that again, put yourself in both shoes, and learn from this situation.

Depression and anxiety are not novelty terms. The easiest explanation I've been given by my shrink is it's just like diabetes. When someone has diabetes, you don't tell them to just be strong and to snap out of it. You tell them to see a doctor. You rush them to the ER when the symptoms manifest. You encourage them, if not force them, to be treated. At the same time, when you have diabetes, you don't just go on with your life hoping it will go away. You take the medication and you make lifestyle changes not to aggravate it. You don't let it become you. You don't go around expecting people to treat you differently for it.

I've wanted to die for as long as I can remember. My teenage journals chronicled those moments. I felt so alone and insignificant. That's why I started writing. I didn't think I'd live past 27. True enough, it was 2012 when I had my worst episode. I'll spare you the morbid details but I was so convinced that I had to die that I wrote to my family and my friends. I said my goodbyes. "I love you and this is not your fault." I put on my favorite dress and prepared my "ticket to freedom". I sent a text message to my manager quitting my job. Then, someone showed up. And then, another. And before I knew it, my family was there. I was loved. I was valued. I am loved... and I will be missed. The demons just made me not see it.

When I was loved back to life, so to speak, I realized that suicide is selfish. Wanting to harm myself is selfish. My parents didn't work that hard to provide for me to have a good life just so I can end it. My friends didn't spend all those hours listening to me go on and on about how sad I was just so I can end it. And I didn't survive every failure and heartbreak just so I can end it. I was saved. And from then on, I made it my purpose to give back.

I just turned 34. I didn't plan my life this far. This is all new to me - not knowing. But, I know - I've seen - that if I can just get through an episode, I'll see that things aren't as bad as I may think. I am alive and there is always hope. Always. I just need to listen to my body and take good care of me. I sleep at least 7 hours a day. I exercise. When I'm tired, I rest. I make time for everyone and everything that makes me feel alive. I say no to people and things that I feel would not contribute to my well-being. When I fail, I treat myself with kindness and look for ways I can do better. When a negative thought pops in my head, I pause and analyse it. I turn it inside out until it becomes something that pushes me to keep going. Catriona's silver lining is real.

When the negative thoughts become too strong for me to manage, I do my part and I reach out to my support system. I take my meds. I don't post on social media and I don't just go around spewing my vitriol to whomever will give me the time of the day. I never want to add to anyone's burden. As someone in need of support, I also need to be compassionate towards everyone's struggles and make sure that they are in the right frame of mind to help. "I am not okay. Do you have the head space to listen?"

My dear friends, I am 34 and living my best life. I start and end each day with gratitude. Nothing is too small to be thankful for. I've found that the more I give thanks for what I have, the less bad I feel for what I don't. I've also found that the more I love my self, the less offended I feel when some people don't. Stop comparing your life to what you see on social media. Everyone's life is different. Everyone's struggles are different. You do need to know what makes you happy and keep moving towards it. The journey is the destination. I'm rooting for you.