2019, a eulogy

The year is ending in a few minutes and my social media feeds are bombarded with essays. I hate all the unwarranted emotional downpour but since I'm very introspective, I guess I'll just try to understand that people move in the same wavelength this time around, albeit publicly. Nica says her 2019 was a year of fulfilled wishes -- we finished the film and she traveled to all these beautiful countries. That had me looking back on my year. So before it ends, I think I'm going to bandwagon with everyone and do my usual remembering remembering list (because its fun to read back sometimes).

In January, I learned that life can mimic movies. Alone in a foreign country with bruised shoulders and a broken heart, it's possible to bleed quietly while stuck in a downpour, the rain washing my tired body with feelings of wasted time, effort, and resources. That to go "home" was to brave the rain, unmindful that the best bed at that god-forsaken time was a white-washed bunk bed in an unfamiliar side of town. "Oh, I have a friend here," I told my Vietnamese receptionist with teary eyes. "Actually a boyfriend. But not anymore." To say he was shocked and speechless was an understatement. I've never been so outright with my feelings before, thinking people will never be able to handle them -- heck I can't even. But he responded in the nicest way possible: "You know... Sometimes life happens." I laughed. Yes, I say, it does, as he ushered me to a shared room where I was holed in for a day. When I stepped out of that room, I reconciled with a high school best friend who I had a falling out three years ago and who took her time to make me enjoy my newfound "single-ness" in a country that always reminds me of missed opportunities. During the day, I serendipitously crossed paths with a man I greatly admire while checking out the temples, found a book vending machine after hours scourging the same street on foot, and at night, devoured Michelin-star street food. I got reminded that things always always get better. You just have to raise your head, smile, and walk on. Also, that I'll never get on a plane to see a boyfriend. Ever.

In February, I learned to endure. My film was still in the annoying in-between place. We got a new producer on board but the funding was still missing. But still, it was good to know that people are still excited about it. Patience isn't my strongest asset but sometimes that's the best course of action during a stalemate.

In March, I let go of ambitious dreams. We gave up on an Alexa, cut down everything we could to make do with the resources at hand, which isn't much to begin with. It was a choice between finishing the film or not. We decided that sometimes, simplicity comes with peace of mind.

In April, I learned that partnerships just don't work. We let go of our new producer and was once again, on the hunt for a new one. It might have been a good move because after we did, friends reached out and supported our decision. Sometimes, it just doesn't work. Toxic relationships are just toxic and should be let go.

In May, I had a new beginning. Surprisingly, the middle of the year brought two new awesome things: a new job and a new producer. Things are finally looking up. Sure it had its pitfalls and I had to endure an hour's worth of low vibration conversation with another person. But at the end of the day, I stand by our decisions. I'd rather let go of certain people than to let go of my crew.

In June, I broke. Rushing to make a full-length feature in time for the festival used up all my energy, patience, and optimism. We had a few weeks break where I asked, again and again, why I decided to do this, why I decided to give up everything for this film. It was a dark night of the soul moment and I thought it was the worst. But apparently, it has only begun.

In July, I broke again. Sometimes things don't work. But we have to make do with what we have. I learned a lot from making a film. But when we wrapped up production and post-production, I realized that despite all the shitty things, the unnerving moments, and crazy process, I still love films and I will do it over and over and over.

In August, I was defensive. On so many fronts. Surprisingly, I still have a lot to burn but I knew I was fizzling out. But the film, the festival ended. We were bruised but we're still alive. And that's good, right?

In September, I felt empty. When you pour all your energy, time, attention on one thing for three years, it eats you up. Finishing the film was like having a close relative die after months of taking care of them in a hospital or in a decaying bedroom. It was a relief but it also made me extremely lonely, empty.

In October, I pushed myself to the limit. It was beginning again, but in an uncomfortable, disadvantageous position.

In November, I tried again. And again. And again. And realized I badly needed a break.

In December, I hibernated. I had 12 days of doing nothing. And I realized I should have done this after we finished the film. Emotional check-ups are always a good idea after every endings. Also, I adopted a dog and I think Chewie (short for Chewbacca) helps with my anxiety.

Looking back, I had a pretty shitty yet accomplished 2019 -- no wonder I was such a bitch! The year tested my patience, strengthened my endurance, and made me realize that the world is still largely unexplored and awaits conquering. Here's to new passions, new loves, and new opportunities! I am awake now.