BATANG MINDANAW: Still life with hope

SURIGAO CITY (MindaNews / 1 Aug)—It’s August now, almost two months have passed since I graduated from college last June 6. Besides that, I am counting the days until my birthday on September 15. I will turn 24 that day, and my life has been filled with emotions—mostly adding layers to my existential dilemma.

Everything feels foreign, and there seems to be a lack of direction. There comes a time when each day begins and ends with musings that sally forth in my head. My anxiety is steadily increasing. I have felt so insignificant. It’s sad.

They say life after graduation is promising. I vividly recall being one of many college students who thought, “I can’t wait to graduate.” At one point, I believed that the challenges I would face afterward would never extinguish the burning desire within me.

However, the reality is that these challenges now haunt me, as I realize that life after graduation is spontaneously a series of decisions that may or may not shape one’s future—a constant series of adulting classes with lessons that seem formidable. (I had no idea that life after graduation would be more demanding than life in college.)

Life after graduation often greets you with unscripted tomorrows, a time when self-doubt can overshadow motivation, and you face the pressure of balancing life’s decision-making power amidst mazes with no exits. It’s scary.

Furthermore, as my fellow contributor at the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Cristine Joy Castro (Young Blood, 10/27/19), wrote with accuracy: “I tried looking for jobs that would fit my knowledge and abilities and submitted applications to a lot of companies, without realizing that I was already putting a lot of pressure on myself and that I had become impatient. I was desperate. What is sad is that in the Philippines, even if you have an academic degree or an impressive résumé, there is never a guarantee that you can be employed immediately, especially if you are a fresh graduate of a nonboard course.” Realization hit me so hard that I can’t help but relate a lot to what is written.

At 23, I feel like I’m living in an aquarium, confined within a specific place. Despite my constant movement, I linger on, trapped against the walls. What I’ve gained are unmet expectations, unresolved trauma, and persistent pressure.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that if I wither, I will bloom in the right season. Now, I will stay positive, hold onto a sliver of hope, and maturely accept my current situation, even if it seems far-fetched and doesn’t align with my desires.

Everything is short-lived, and the future is unpredictable, with both repelling challenges and charming surprises. What is certain is that I can continue to hope, continue to write, and remain hopeful. Still life with hope.

Who knows where I’ll be tomorrow?

(Jhon Steven C. Espenido, 23, writes from Surigao City and is an AB English Language graduate from Surigao del Norte State University.)