Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.

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What I see is today it is much harder being yourself than acting like you are someone completely different. 😕



Regularity of an Iridescent?

Hm that is going to be interesting.

As a part of Blogging 101 we have the task to create a regular feature. Well, regularity and sticking to something steady has never been one of my strengths. I also have to say I am not going too well with the stories I’ve started my blog with but that’s kind of fine since I’m just like that. Sometimes, I prefer imagining them to actually sit down and write. That’s it.

But! As most of you probably know, I write stories as a form of self-therapy defeating my panic disorder.

So here’s my idea. Apart from The Colour Book of Spirits published here. I have two other and bigger projects I am working on simultaneously. (Yes, it’s not easy.) So, regular posts will, or may appear here reflecting those projects, more likely the one that is solely about my panic disorder. I haven’t found a cool name for it yet so temporarily, let’s just call it The Panic Project. As it is longer and more complex than the CBoS, I’m not sure if I will publish that here, but I’m planning posting about inspiration, facts, other relating thoughts, or maybe some excerpts of it. Like one of the previous posts I’ve Never Really Been a Good Student. That post was published on a Saturday, so let’s say this category will be refreshed on Saturdays in every two weeks. I’ll try my best. 😉

I know you guys prefer shorter posts and positive thinking but this is necessary and unavoidable.
So, what do you think? 😉




I’m not this strong.

Now I’ll just act like as if I had no followers and no one to read what I write here. Sorry, but I don’t want to get addicted to stats.

This month I have to say I was really happy. Thanks to WordPress’s Blogging University, I managed to find inspiration, meet new, interesting and amazing people, and I woke up everyday jumping out of the bed happily, I haven’t done since ages. I was energetic and more focused, not only considering my blog but also my real life duties.

But during the past few days, I did nothing but slept. Through day and night, which is pretty strange as I’ve been insomniac for years now. I really thought that I’m quite strong as besides insomnia I’ve been suffering from panic disorder and depression for years, yet I was able to get a qualification, I’m at the end of university, with quite good grades and I have an adorable boyfriend and thankfully, I didn’t end up being attracted to alcoholic and abusive guys unlike my mom. I’m thankful for all of these, and also for the thing that suffering from diseases for years having no one to talk about, I managed to remain sane.

But this sleeping thing is not only strange but also, even during those hours I’m awake I’m exhausted. I’ve just realised I’m doing the same as with my panic disorder; I’m not telling about it to anyone and letting it eat me up from the inside.

I’ve been looking for a job for months now. I’ve had an interview as well and I wasn’t as shy as I used to be so I thought things are finally going fine. Ever since my parents divorced, when I was seven, we lived in constant uncertainity. We moved to other places quite a lot and usually by the end of the month we ran out of all of our money and always had loans. Things haven’t changed so much since then.

Although, I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason, I’m slowly running out of patience, because everywhere they say “we’ll inform you soon“. No, I know they won’t. They say this all the time. I just want a damn job to manage my life. I don’t want to be rich just want to support my mom who has been working at a factory for more than ten years now. She’s extremely skinny since she’s always worried and doesn’t have time to eat and whenever she goes to the doctor I’m afraid it turns out that there’s something serious,

Really, uncertainity kills me the most. Lots of people say that we only face struggles we are able to overcome, but I’m not this strong. I’m officially fed up. And I’m crying now.


I’ve Never Really Been a Good Student

Not only I usually daydreamt during boring classes, but when it came to doing my homework I always wanted to do something else. Even at university, when I had to study for an exam I wanted to study for another one that was scheduled later, and when the later exam was near, again, I wanted to study for another. 😀 It was like hell.

And I still didn’t change. As I’ve said before I write stories about me and my struggles. It is time to post the next story for The Colour Book of Spirits published here. I have the plot in my head and I’ve already started working on it, but my mood changed again so this weekend I’ll work on another project of mine that I started earlier. Actually, this one was the first idea that evolved into a whole story into my mind. It will be hard, I know. There are lots of things I still have to face and this story is quite scary to me, not because of the plot itself, but because of the PD. So, I don’t know when it will be finished but I’m sure I’ll be much better by the end of it.
A little fun fact: as I am a not really good student one time I failed an exam because I got inspired and worked on this story all the night before the exam. 😛 Well, this is how inspiration works, I guess.

This one is going to be about my panic disorder, because there were/are many people around me who cannot understand what I’m going through and before the proper diagnosis they ignored or denied any signs of my illness. With this, I want to show them what’s it like, how scary it can be and how hard it is living with it. And also how serious it is. So, you can guess, this won’t be a fairy tale.

Although, the idea came years ago the meaning of the story became clear to me when this dialogue happened between me and my psychologist:

– What is it like when you are having one of those attacks?
– It is chest hurts and I cannot breathe. I have to sit down to the floor leaning my back next to a wall and have to hold myself with my arms bent around me tight, because otherwise I feel like I would fall into pieces. It’s like a crack starting from my chest and it goes all over my body. As if I was made of porcelain, like a doll.
– I cannot imagine this. Try to explain it better.

Well, I will. 😉

Until I finish it, here’s a little foretaste of the mood of the story: