It’s All Or Nothing For PJ Toral
By Mikael Rizada-Borres
It’s not in Paul John “PJ” Toral’s nature to say the word “no.”
As of writing this piece, PJ is an elected councilor of the University of San Carlos (USC)’ Supreme Student Council, an ambassador for non-government organizations such as remake.world and makesense, and the president of USC’s Computer Engineering Council. It’s clear that he has several things on his plate.
It’s also clear that PJ has too much on his plate. When someone looks at PJ's plate, they may find it to be perfect for someone with a propensity to gouge themselves with professional agony. Aside from times when PJ has to refuse an invitation from his friends to hang out since he can’t fit a get-together into his jam-packed schedule, he can’t shake off requests for help from others. He admits that even when he can’t be available for everyone at all times, he tries to force himself to be available for everyone at all times.
“I think the most times [when I can’t say no] is when people are like, ‘PJ, I really need your help. Can you do me a favour?’ PJ said. “I’m like, ‘Sure, sure, sure. Just send me the details, and I’ll see what I can do.’”
Why does he not like saying the word “no”? PJ himself does not have a concrete answer to that question. He can only surmise the answer by analyzing through a smorgasbord of contributing factors.
Some may suggest that PJ is a people-pleaser whose subconscious desire to satisfy the masses’ expectations and demands is keeping him entangled with the concept of hecticness. “Maybe it’s because I’m scared to disappoint,” PJ said. “Maybe it scares me na ma-disappointed ang person [that the person may be disappointed].” He knows that disappointments and mistakes will be made as perfection is never feasible. Still, he thinks letting people down may damage his ego and pride. He’s not sure if that’s the main element of this character flaw that he possesses, but he acknowledges that it is a likely possibility.
He is only certain that if he says yes, it’s set in stone. His insistence on making his word his bond would compel him to twist his body, his time, and his mind.
On one of his days at the end of Summer 2022, he took an online exam for one of his summer classes at Chong Hua Hospital Mandaue (where his mother was getting treatment for her follicular thyroid carcinoma, a type of thyroid cancer, at the time). He then trekked to Ayala Center Cebu to help his friend’s start-up business. He came home afterwards to finish some school assignments. Finally, he joined a Zoom meeting to speak with me in the middle of the night for this piece.
“MURA’G STRAIGHT, NOH?” he opined after sending me this picture. I disagreed.
For all the things PJ does, he spares no effort. Like when he becomes infatuated with a guy, he feels all the emotions associated with being part of “crush culture” (resulting in him getting quite “insecure” when his crush sends out “mixed signals” about the state of their relationship and composing love songs with basic chord progressions that he’s too embarrassed to play publicly). There may be no such thing as a midway point for PJ. He either gives his all or gives nothing at all.
He gives his all to prevent people from feeling disappointed in him, and such a predicament is rooted in PJ’s greatest fear. “I’m very scared of losing the people I love because I invest a lot of my emotions into the connections I make with people that I want to keep in my life,” PJ said. “I really get sad with the thought that no matter how hard I try, I will eventually lose the people that I want to keep in my life.”
He cannot deny that it is inevitable for some relationships he invested in to break off for any reason, regardless of whether the cause was good or bad. He is hung up, however, on the fact that his efforts may crumble. “I really make sure that I invest my time, my effort, my love. [...] I’m not sure if they feel [what I’ve been doing], but I try my best to make them feel that they are important in my life.
“And the thought of actually having to decide that it’s time to go on our separate ways, it scares me. Like, I don’t know how I might be able to take it, but I know I’ll be okay. Pero [But] I feel like it’ll really take time.”
PJ recounted memories of his best friend Ling-Ling, his cousin’s maid who was 6 or 7 years PJ’s senior, and recalled their close and deep connection. He would confide in her about his problems with his drunkard, vice-ridden father; he would cry about his adolescent fears in front of her. “When I was in 8th Grade, na-shocked na lang ko na ning-text ang cousin sa family nako na namatay na daw.”
(When I was in 8th grade, I was just shocked when my cousin texted my family that Ling-Ling had died.)
PJ said that he and Ling-Ling met a week before he got the news that she passed away. He didn’t know that she had a disease she was hiding from him. “When I think about it, it breaks my heart that she was always there for me. How could I have not been that person that she would easily have disclosed that information? Maybe she thought that I was too young because I was in 8th grade and she was about to marry. And maybe she thought that I was too young na masturyahan [to be told] about those things.”
The state of shock was PJ's disposition throughout the aftermath of his best friend’s death. He didn’t shed tears during the funeral; instead, his mouth was open, and he was looking in disbelief. “Feeling nako simulation lang ang world. Feeling jud nako na, ‘Ngano inani man? Ngano pa man ang mga tao na buotan na mawala?’” he recalled.
(I felt like the world was a simulation. I felt like, ‘Why is it like this? Why do the good people have to go away?’)
“I had so many questions. No one really had the answers.”
Until now, he finds it challenging to ponder about that death. “In my personal time, I still really cry about it because it’s something that… I don’t know. Supposedly, time heals, but there are just some things — no matter how long it’s been — it’s still fresh when you talk about it.”
Zooming out to see PJ’s entire childhood will allow one to recognize the hurdle PJ gave his all to overcome. His childhood was “definitely not the best,” he would describe. “Dako’g jud unta’g chance na I’d become just like my dad, ‘cause my dad, he’s a drunkard, super bisyoso.”
(There was a big chance that I’d become just like my dad, ‘cause my dad, he’s a drunkard, he’s got vices.)
His fragmented relationship with his father, which contributed to the rough patches woven into his childhood, became an underlying point of the intimate connections he used to have with others. “I used to like people because we share the same pain,” PJ shared.
From 5th to 9th Grade, PJ was in love with a classmate; she was his first love. “I was super in love with her because we shared the same pain,” PJ said, furthering that he felt she faced the same childhood struggles since both of their fathers had similar shortcomings. “The difference is that she lost her dad in 6th grade, and my dad got into a super-bad accident that rendered him disabled.”
His soul and heart wanted to share the burdens and pain with the people whose stories he related to. “It’s the type of liking that’s like, ‘You know what? OK, I want to help you with that. Can you help me with this?’
“It might sound like I’m trauma-dumping to that person,” PJ said, “but like, what I wanted is somebody to listen to, somebody to talk to.”
Amidst the lost friendship, dark connections, and paternal hatred that surrounded PJ, he began inhibiting baneful behaviour born from his troubles. He enjoyed partaking and spreading gossip, seeking drama between himself and other people. He now sees his past self as someone “deflecting” from his distress. “It was nonsense, but then nangita jud ko ug [I was looking for a] way to express these emotions inside myself.”
It was all part of an internal cycle of PJ escaping from having to deal with his issues and then pulling all the stops to smear and dish the dirt to regain temporary consolation — only to repeat it all when the consolation from his misdeeds wilted.
Riding through this neverending roundabout was taxing for PJ. That fatigue forced him to halt and contemplate his life up to that point. He realized he felt lost. “Like, what was the point? Unsa man jud [What really was it]? Ano ba [What was it]?”
He was then advised to keep a journal, where he could pen his frustrations and perhaps answer the questions that were plaguing his psyche. He heeded the advice and started writing in 10th Grade, the year he decided to quit getting tired from running around the toxic circle he ran for years.
“The bottom line is: in all those years — all my wishes when I saw 11:11 [on the clock], all the shooting stars — I always just wished that I would be happy. And every time I closed my eyes, I always used to say ‘Happiness. Happiness is all I want.’”
The initial sessions of him jotting down his deep emotions appeared cumbersome and pointless to him. He first assumed that he’ll “still feel shitty” the next morning despite journaling the night before. Yet, he continued to do so after working on schoolwork that demanded him to write often and lengthily.
It began the momentum where he got into the groove of journaling, grasping the cathartic release of pent-up sentiments.
PJ showed me a page of the journal he was writing on. On the page were the tiniest-sized letters. He explained how he processes the events that were impactful enough for him to write them down on paper. He would first ask questions about how he felt about something, what led to what happened, and which paths he should take to move forward. Then, he notes it all down.
He doesn’t write often; he only does so when he’s “super-super tired, super-super sad, or super-super in love.” And when he does get the mojo to pen his frustrations in his journal, he writes it all, as evidenced by the minuscule writing on his diary’s pages. He writes as if it’s all or nothing.
“I wouldn’t say I’m a good writer. I wouldn’t say that,” PJ said. “I would say that I write from my heart.”
PJ and Mikael conducted the interview through Zoom on Saturday, July 23rd, 2022.
Recommended Song: Never Too Much - Luther Vandross
