Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.

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(Have you read 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami? If not, then, even I have only finished the first book yet, I wholeheartedly recommend it.)

Yesterday was the first day of spring. The beginning of something new. The nature comes to life again, new plants begin growing and people start flowing out to the streets more often, as a result of the finally sunny weather.

Though, it’s only the third month of the year, lots of things has happened to me so far, and I can hardly follow the direction of the occurrances. I can’t see the future at all, and for the first time in my life this makes me feel excited and happy.

For the first time in my life I am not afraid of my mind. The imagination that overflows in me and overwrites my approach to the everyday life. This is the imagination I want to make reality. I cannot see it perfectly yet, I cannot grab it yet, but it’s presence is stronger than ever and finally I can feel it slowly but firmly flowing through the cracks between the world in my head and the one I am forced to live in.

The chasm has started to decrease. Something has definitely changed. Either me, or the world around me, or even both at the same time. My world is now spinning in the opposite direction and I don’t know which is the better yet.

Finally, I’ve learnt that imagination cannot be imprisoned. If you try to lock it up it will be you who ends up in the cell. Imagination is limitless but it can limit your abilities. The imaginary exists only in human mind, yet it is frequently the thing that helps people identify their own reality. Imagination is expandable, it grows into our everyday lives, affects our views and actions, thus it changes our days sometimes without us noticing it.

I found myself starting to prefer things that seem to be impossible or less easy. I subconsciously made a decision that I don’t want to live a safe but boring life, because no matter how hard I try to be safe, things that I cannot control will still happen. Probably this was the thing that freed my imagination and myself as well. And in fact, this makes me to look at the future more positively.

Because, who knows where is that very thin line between imagination and reality?

(Also, In response to The Daily Post’s daily prompt Whoa! )


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Perfectly written, amazingly true and nice thoughts! Love this.


confidence Lucy

We all want people to think well of us that is why we stay clean, wear decent clothes and try to act in a socially acceptable way. The truth is what matters is how we see ourselves. Others opinions are just that. Opinions. Be your unique self and revel in it. There will never ever be another you. It took me over half a century to realize that and I am enjoying every damn minute. Try it you will like it.

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Now that’s why She is my role-model


So right, so true, and I wish I could tell this my teen self. Yet there still are many many lessons to learn..

“Spread the love!”

Hugs! 🙂


Am I invisible?


No, wait.

There has always been this problem around me. Depression and stuff grew so much onto me that I usually felt I’m invisible. They didn’t notice me on the streets, usually bumped into me, and always I was the one who didn’t have place on photos. People couldn’t even memorize my name, even though it is not that complicated, and also it is kind of old, easy, and I’m really happy that I didn’t get my name after the antagonist of a popular soap opera. People usually were/are so bad at remembering my name that they usually gave me new ones, the only thing that managed to stuck into their heads was the initial ‘A’, that has always been the only thing they remembered and I got my new names based on that. Even my psychologist (can you see the irony?) had a hard time remembering my name.

I sat right in front of him and he started, “Well, dear Andrea!” I couldn’t bear it anymore so I interrupted
“It’s Adrienn!”
“Excuse me, what is it?”
“I said, it’s Adrienn!”
“Oh, alright sorry Adrienn!” Then we kept talking for a maximum of five munites without any problem. Bang!
“So, dear Anette!”
“It’s Adrienn!!”
“Oh, sorry again…”

Now I mean can you really see the irony? After that had happened I almost expected to someone eventually call me Arshole. Really, I mean they always got the ‘A’ right, and nothing else. But I had to realise that this never will happen. And as for an extra gift today I got a letter from a site I signed up with the purpose of finding a job, I checked it I still have a valid account with my full name. I have to say I hardly read their messages as they are mostly spams but something caught my attention this time:

“Dear, First Name!”

C’mon! That doesn’t even start with an ‘A’! Oh, and by the way, thanks for the another brick to build my new self on! 😉


‘I love You!’ Or What Compassion Means to me

I struggled a lot with this post. One of my blogger friends said I have lots of things to say (and really!) and she told me to say them well. Well, I tried my best with this one and this is what happens when I’m writing while having a panic attack:

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This post is written for the 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion movement, I stumbled across a while ago. Lots of you may know that my initial goal with blogging would be reagining and developing my real self. This is a hard and long journey of mine, but I have to tell I feel very enthusiastic about it.

Compassion has always been one of my strongest traits. Or empathy, the two of them are equal to me. And not only these two, but also acceptance and support, loving a person for who they really are. These all fall into the category of compassion in my dictionary.

Ever since I was little I could feel sadness and sorrow for anyone, starting from a homeless person, through the sadness in the eyes of a little child and even towards a movie character. I had a strong desire to help anyone I could, while I forgot about the one person I should’ve taken better care for. It took me years to realise that while I am able to support lots of people in my life, I was completely incapable of being compassionate towards my very own self. I took all of the pain I had for granted just like breathing and seemingly, I accepted it as a solid part of my soul. Seemingly.

For so many years, I got told a lot that I’m weak, far too fragile and sensitive, and also that besides these, I don’t have any other problem so I shouldn’t say a word. Without noticing, I began to take over this attitude but only until I got the diagnosis of my panic disorder and I decided to start therapy in order to put an end to it. I remember, my very first ‘homework’ given by my psychologist, was to look in the mirror, examine myself deeply and say this right into my face;

‘My family and friends love me, God loves me, and even I love You, Adrienn.’

When I looked into the mirror I saw a face completely emotionless and fearfully strange to me. I thought to myself, I don’t know who this person is, and besides, who does this person thinks she is to say anything like this? I was supposed to repeat this single line a few times every day in front of the mirror. Yet at first I couldn’t even finish the sentence, I burst out into tears. For the time of the blink of an eye I managed to notice something really painful hiding in the depths of those dim and dark brown eyes, something that reached my heart. I saw the little girl living with her mom and sister after leaving an abusive and alcoholic father. I saw the little girl who was only 4 years old when said to her to let her father take more money to go back to the pub instead of having her mother hurt. I think that was the first time, I realised how sad, desperate and how broken I was. I cried because I pitied myself, as if I was looking at somebody else. I cried like a little child, like that little child who went through the hardships I tried so hard for years to forget. But it doesn’t work like that. I had to learn that these became the part of me and accept what others rejected, because I rejected it too. It was me who was unable to accept myself, so naturally, how could others do it for me? I also had to look at my naked body which was as horrible as looking at only my face.

And yet, despite I often felt no empathy towards myself, especially considering my mental illness, I never forgot how important being compassionate and supportive towards the struggling is. Or towards anybody. Probably it was because I longed for these feelings so much. Also, I couldn’t understand what those people were thinking or feeling when they told me those rude words. I still can’t. We all have problems and weaknesses but that’s fine, it is the part of learning and development as humans. Also, we all are unique and different. For example I went to university to another city so I had to go there and back by bus that took two hours of my live every single day. I hated it but didn’t have any other choice so I accepted it. It exhausted me like hell, as I usually had to get up at 5 am and got home at 8 or 9 pm. Once I told this a friend of mine, who shrudded and told me he did this for years. Yeah, for him it wasn’t a big thing, but to me it was too tiring and I couldn’t focus on my studies properly. When I told him that okay, then that’s him, and I am me he didn’t reply. Yeah… Maybe commuting was easy on him and hard for me but I wondered, would he be able to live with panic disorder for years? I never asked him but as far as I am concerned, it’s sure like hell that I would choose years of commuting instead of years of suffering on my own.

As for acceptance, sadly, it is a very rare thing to accept people for who they really are. We all tend to either look upon them, we make celebrities and stars out of them, thinking that ‘Oh, they are so unique and such rebels! How cool!’ Or the on the other side, we belittle those children who are a bit different from the ‘normal’ saying that ‘Oh! (s)he’s such a freak and so weird.’ Or am I wrong?

True, I rarely felt being supported or loved, yet I am willing to give others what I didn’t get. I do believe that there are people who think like me, and WordPress became a place not only precious to me but also the one that proved that wonders do happen. 🙂



Solid Self-esteem Pt. 2

Okay now, based on the previous post. I just got an idea how to improve my self-esteem a bit, not relying on other’s but relying on them at the same time.

Let me explain this.

I have an unhealthily low self-esteem, it’s a fact. As a result of this, I tend to lose heart at stuff I like, because I have pretty high expectations I feel I cannot live up to, and this makes me far too stressed to keep up the good(?) work. This need to be solved as soon as possible, so I came up with an idea that may help.

Here’s the method. I will compile all the comments from you guys and as well from others telling me you liked some of the stuff you found here and so on. Because these comment mean so much to me, you cannot even imagine. Then, I will make a montage from it and hang it on the wall right above my desk. So far so good?

True, at first thought this may seem self-praise and even suggest a tendency of egoism but in my case it’s definitely not that. Because, whenever I feel I cannot keep up blogging and writing, I’ll just look at them, and I will think, Okay, I made it once, twice, a few times, probably what I do is worthy, so why worrying? If I try I can possibly keep the pace, the quality and move towards to reach my goals. This sounds better now, right? Remember the example from the previous post? I’m not confident because of the job I have but because I can do that job. And it is an important difference.


Solid Self-esteem

Way earlier me and my psychologist were talking about a self-helping book that was written with the purpose of developing solid self-confidence and esteem.

The book said, very correctly I add, that building our self-confidence and self-esteem based on other people and outside occurrences is not reasonable and won’t remain stable. For example, if I have a great job, I shouldn’t be confident solely about it because at the time I get fired or the company I worked for, let’s say twenty years or throughout my whole life, closes I may lose not only my confidence but also my purpose of life. Things like this can cause severe depression that will be hard to overcome if I stick to them too much. There were several other examples similar to this. We agreed on that the writer of the book was right on this. At least half.

Because I said, that okay he’s right, I cannot or more correctly shouldn’t base my self-confidence on such a thing because we all know nothing lasts long. But something bothered me about this idea. I told my psychologist that yeah, again it’s a good advice, but if I just sit in my room, doing nothing I won’t develop real self-confidence. Instead, I’ll unconsciously build a shell around me. Because yes, if I do nothing just sitting in my room I can have a feeling that I am confident. But it’s not real, it’s only because I am in my comfort-zone, and when I go out and meet new people I won’t have the courage to talk to them and show my real self. So, here I was stuck. My psychologist told me I hit the nail on the head. There was something wrong about that idea.

In the end, we concluded that we need to do something to create and develop our self-confidence. We do need something outsider to strengthen it. But as the book advised we shouldn’t build it on a job. That’s clear we saw the point of it. But instead, we said, we could base it on the feeling that I can/could do this job, and very well. Like the thing with hobbies. The point is not that what I do, but how I feel about it, and to this I do need some outsider effects. I just have to use them differently. The same goes for people’s opinion. Encouraging words and high statistics can and do provide us with and extra boost to our self-confidence, yet at the moment it dramatically decreases we may feel this whole stuff pointless. But that’s not true. What matters is, do I like blogging? Yes, I definitely do! 😉 It’s not that my circumstances use my self-confidence, but I use the circumstances to keep my self-confidence, or at least this is what I think.