CRAYOLA MOMENT: No choice left

Monday morning and I am stealing office hours writing this post. Sorry… If I will not write, I might burst out in a way I will further regret.

The opportunity that I have been relating in my previous posts is the acceptance of my own research for international presentation. A prestigious university in Taiwan accepted my paper for presentation. This opportunity is a rare dream come true for any researcher. It’s a milestone. It’s a priceless achievement.

My dream to reach countries because of my research turned to reality through my former Dean.  She handed me a letter calling for paper presentations in UP. It would be a great opportunity in case my paper gets accepted. I did not hope for anything. I was conditioned to believe that I will not make it. But out of respect to my superior, I submitted my research. I submitted because it was a directive to follow.

As soon as I hit the send button, I buried my files and forgot about everything. Mission accomplished. Case closed.  Months after I submitted my paper, I received an unexpected email. That was it.. My paper was accepted. There was a sudden outpour of happiness.  The good news came so timely because during those months, I was in the lowest point of my life. I was just sad, miserable and depressed.

That piece of happiness settled for days. What once uplifted me gave me a heavy source of depression. The conference will not push through because of the hostage taking incident in the Philppines. The next days were all tears and sadness.

I had no other option but to forget. Months passed and I got used to everything. A year after I have moved on, the opportunity knocked again. This time, my paper was included in the next conference that will happen at the end of the year. I was almost happy. Just almost because the conference will be held in another country and that would mean money. I can’t finance myself, I admitted that defeat. But giving up was never an option. I sought for financial assistance to an institution whom I know would support me. It was my school / my employer, who ironically endeavors to become a cradle of quality researches. In its aim to become research oriented, I assumed that it will be willing to support research endeavors like presentations abroad. Sadly, as I have mentioned in my previous post, not all institutions practice what they preach.

I used to criticize institutions who do not really create means to fulfill their mission and vision. But that was all empty words of criticisms. It never came to my thoughts that I will have my own way of experiencing this defective practice.

History is repeating itself to me. What once uplifted me is again drowning me to depression and though I refuse to admit it, it transforms to hatred… I can’t imagine how it is easy for other people to throw away other people’s dreams and ambitions. That dream gave me life, a “real and an alived life.” The moment I accidentally read that note of regret, also marked the start of another stage of depression in my life.

If my paper is out of quality, you should have told me.What rather pains me was the fact that I wasn’t given a fair fight.  I can’t accept that form of defeat. This explains why I can’t help but feel sprouts of hatred in my heart. The institution may not have a program to support my endeavor. Isn’t so ironic that the institution envisions itself to become excellent in research, yet it doesn’t have a program to support this kind of endeavor? Being in that position, you could have imposed a better action. You could have treated my case as a means to correct a weakness of the institution. You could have done a corrective procedure. You could have done something better.

Karma has its own way but I will never wish for one. Revenge in any form will never be an option. The two slaps of failure and depression are enough to wake me up. Just like last year, the next days, months and years will be a painful stage of forgetting, letting go, moving on and survival. I have no choice anyway..

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