Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.


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The Space to Write – Writing 101 Day 6

Actually there’s nothing interesting about the place where I write.  It usually happens in the refreshing solace of my bedroom sitting on the bed with the laptop in my laps.

I like silence pretty much though when it comes to writing it depends on the form of what I create. If it’s something fiction I like listening to music that ignites my imagination. Besides annihilating noises I prefer if there’s no one around me. Probably this is because of my anxiety but I realised that I’m more axious and it’s harder to gather my thoughts if people are present during the creative process.
And here comes the twist. Since I started working I can rarely enjoy the calmness of my beloved bedroom. Now I hardly have free-time and when I do sometimes I prefer emptying my mind. Other times I am forced to write my blogposts or fragments of stories at my workplace which is like this:

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Repetitive music is buzzing constantly in the background, people come and go and I have to interact with them, which can break the creative flow pretty easily. So this is the least ideal place for someone like me to write.

Even now, I said ‘Hello’ and picked up the phone at least two hundred times while I wrote these approximately two hundred words within two hours if not more. But that’s already a progress!
As people in my country say: The palm tree grows under pressure. ūüėČ

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Regrets – Writing 101 Day 3

Though I’m pretty young, I already have many regrets. For example the thing that I wasn’t confident enough when in my childhood I wanted to learn to play the violin and (only) one teacher said no. I regret not being able to stand up for myself despite the fact that I knew very well what I wanted and what my spirit needed. After all, almost twenty years later my love for the beautiful sound of the violin is still as strong as it used to be, if not stronger. I think, now I would be someone different, richer in spirit if that didn’t happen to me. Sometimes I even think I wouldn’t suffer from panic disorder either. I also regret abandoning playing the piano on a sudden whim that ‘it’s not violin’. There was a time when I felt I would start my life all over again just because of these.

Although, I firmly believe that everything has its own reason. 

I believe there is a point of all the struggles I had to went through and what I am going through even right now. There is a meaning behind my own inconfidence that made me losing my path. There is also a meaning behind the uncertainity and the constant urge to do something valuable that would not let me rest and sit patiently waiting for a miracle that would never happen on its own. For some reason, I had to switch my road to a rough one to finally find, by travelling longer, what I was created for. I believe I need(ed) all the pain to learn how to appreciate myself and more importantly, learn how to listen to the inner voice that is never wrong.

And last but not least it is important to learn to let go all of the fears and those exact inconfidences that were and still are present in my life. To let go all of the anxiety, the pressure I subconsciously put on myself and everything that binds me, prevents me from being myself hiding behind the well-made mask of panic disorder.

So, in the end do I regret all these things I listed above? Sometimes I¬†still do, after all I’m just a human too.


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Restart – Or Why I Write (Writing 101)

Have you ever felt like you must do something extra or at least not so ordinary? I’m sure you have. Or have you ever felt like that your thoughts are engaged something completely nonsensical? Let me explain this.

Here is me, a perfectly ordinary(-looking) young adult, with a certain qualification and a certain job. I have my own struggles with money and life just like everyone else. I also have to mention that I live in a very small town, in a very small country. To someone like me nothing extraordinary could be expected in life. I finished schools, I have a job, probably I will get married one day, have kids and I will work and raise my children until I can retire. That’s it. And here is where we all freak out. That’s it!? Really? At this point, I have to say I’m well aware that lots of people go through this period. I know. But!

Continuing with my example here’s this blog thing. Again, I know, I’ve been a very bad girl, not writing (that’s not really true) or posting (well, that’s true) anything for a while now. I do feel bad about it. But to be honest, the urge never disappeared. For some inexplicable (yeah, I did learn that there is a word like this :D) reason, I feel I have to write the story that’s inside me. Apart from the clich√© thing. I do have a story, that’s a bit gory, scary and dark but it’s mine, only it has to evolve, just like me. And I feel excited about it! Even if I’m not writing, I always think about it, creating actions, complication, and also I try to analyze in the terms of my own mental health problems. I really wish I could draw so I could see the scenes I have hard times to write. So I guess I could say I wasn’t completely idle. This time, the urge is stronger, and that’s how it should be I think.

Pinterest

Pinterest

All in all..

I write because I have to. I don’t know why or what for, but this is the beauty of it. ūüėČ


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When I said I want to make my fairy tales reality I didn’t mean I wanted to end up as the Monster in the Forest…

I know I’ve been waaay too much away but I had my reasons. Writer’s block would be here a lame excuse and in fact this time, this is not what it’s all about.

I’ve been struggling both as an introvert and also as someone who fights mental illness secretly and all alone. It’s not enough that panic disorder and all mental illnesses are heavily stigmatized they are complex and living their own lives while creating newer and newer hardened by time problems.

One of this in my case is that heavy compulsion for conformity of mine. I’ve always been the weakest of the pack wherever I’ve been and the one who obeyed even if I didn’t want to. The other day, someone actually told me (after a few days of acquaintance) that I’m a type who can easily be used so not to be surprised if I am getting stepped on. The other thing is that I never trust anybody, so I speak the least of my personal problems, even the least ones. I am simply afraid of people, labelling me as a weenie, like they had done it so many times in the past. I am afraid that no one understands me, as even my closest people, who are well aware of my disorder, acts like as if I had no special problems, only a little of sloth and stuff like this. In fact, it became incredibly hard to live this way. I feel like I’m all alone with this struggle and sometimes I’m terribly afraid that I could go mad in any minute. I’ve picked up an extremely (and sometimes aggressively) defensive attitude, avoiding any confrontation, and being highly conscious of picking the words I say that could not be misunderstood so easily. In other words I am afraid of being myself. I feel like I am like a thin glass that could be shattered by even a gentle breeze, and I’m fed up with this.

The other day, or maybe weeks ago, I don’t know now, I found a great post shared¬†by luckyottershaven, about sensitive people. It is a great article telling everything that needs to be known about these kind of people way better than I ever could, I highly recommend it, if you’re interested you can read it here:

“How Highly Sensitive People Interact with the World Differently”

The other thing with my high sensitivity and the one that has something to do with my decline in blogging, is that I’ve been suspecting for a while now, that I am working with a narcissist, in twelve hours a day. Most of you know well that how abusive narcissists are and if you read the article above, now you see how mentally tiring and destructive it is for me. I’m not complaining I just had to give it out. I’m tired and angry. I would be really happy if people could be more considerate towards others, not only towards people with mental illness but also towards all of us.

Because after all..

mad


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The Tear of Yesterday is the Hymn of Tomorrow

First of all, I’m really really sorry for my long-long absence. I’ll be honest, I hated this period when my whole world turned upside-down and I didn’t have any idea how to balance¬†my duties and all the things I like the most. It was hard, hateful, utterly exhausting and full of negativity. Duties..we all know these very well, but what I forgot, I have duties towards myself as well.

I missed blogging, my shelter and the people here, and maybe because of this I couldn’t find my place anywhere the wind of change swept me. I’ve let all the unimportant things to occupy my mind, and thus I was mislead from what is important to me.¬†I did what I never wanted to; left the path I should walk on and that I managed find the hardest way. I also forgot about myself, my panic disorder that makes me unique, and let the circumstances make me believe I’m completely worthless only because I’m a little different.

The vicious circle started again, constant anxiety, panic attacks, sickening inconfidence, self-doubt, fear of speaking my mind and so on. I simply forgot how to care for myself. But you know what? I’ll restart all this learning process, I will do my best, let it be anything, let it be extraordinary, strange or even ridiculous; I’ll be me, I’ll keep¬†writing my own fairy tale. Because I don’t want to feel this pain again¬†and more importantly because it just has been proven that I cannot live my life any other way.