Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.


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..



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Me is Strange…

period or question mark?

In other words, panic disorder uncovered..

I realised that though I say my most important goal is to overcome my illness and to make people be more aware of mental illnesses I rarely speak about what I go through. Well, that’s not particularly true but stil…

Yep, my fantasy stories are about my feelings and experiences and yep I have loads to say but as you could see, there are times when I just disappear and nothing happens to my blog. At these times something inside me cracks.This is usually because I’m scared. Scared like hell. Really. Firstly, because I’m simply not good at speaking my mind. Or I should say, I’m too afraid to speak my mind. In order not to hurt others my words end up misunderstood as if I was speaking some alien language. My thoughts usually wander over several stuff and by the time I get to say them out loud or write them down, those prettily constructed lines in my head end up as a mass of incoherent and meaningless pile of words simply put together.

Also, there is that tipically inconfident way of thinking that if I say what’s on my mind then people won’t like me. But to be honest, I’ve already realised that being silent instead of exposing myself has more harmful effects. Silence can lead to ignorance pretty easily. Just think of the sky above us, if it’s clear and nice how many times do you look up and cherish what a great weather it is today? But when there’s a thunderstorm all of us hides inside their safe homes waiting for the storm to end. Maybe that’s why I like stormy nights, maybe I envy them..

Continuig the listing of my anxieties, there is also that subconscious self-sabotage thingie. That’s hellish a demon. Right when you get an awesome idea, the scars you’ve got throughout the years that had already passed by all of a sudden start to speak to you, telling you cannot do this, and there are so many people on this world why would you be the one who succeed? This is an awesome question, though there is no concrete answer for it. Just feelings. I could be satisfied with my job and the fact that I have a somewhat stable financial source. Additionally, of course, as soon as I leave for home at the end of day I can do whatever I want. There are no homeworks, or exams to study for, in my freetime I am perfectly free.  Yet, instead of doing nothing, for some inexplicable reason I insist on keep on blogging keep writing not only as a therapy. The strong feeling of getting somewhere, find my place in the world and something I love doing.

Also, not to mention that I’m a real introvert. I need time to open for people and while I’m at it, in the world of work (equals reality) I’m not that free to talk about my illness. That makes a huge wall between me and the people I’m surrounded with. Interestingly enough, when I tell someone about panic disorder I immediately open up as I don’t have anything left to hide. But until I have to act according to outer rules like answering an immediate ‘no’ to the question ‘Do you have any hidden illnesses?’ that thick wall around me remains solid and impervious. Tht’s why I sit separately in the canteen, that’s why people cannot find a mutual insterest with me immediately. They look at my exhausted, pale face, my sunken shoulders and their expressions turn into really careful and they speak to me as if it was hard to me to understand a simple sentence. They do this without thinking, I’m quite sure, but it still bothers me. Sometimes I think I was born to the wrong place but that’s the story of another post…

The girl has often been scolded by the grownups around her for saying what is in her mind. People have said that she does not distinguish between reality and her imagination. The shape and color of her thoughts seem to be very different from those of other people. She can’t understand what they consider so wrong about her. In any case, she had better not tell anyone about the Little People.

(Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 book two)

The windstorm of yesterday beheaded the rose that had just bloomed.

Me is strange

period or question mark?





They say it a lot.

“Don’t tell anyone about it… about your life, as there are poor spirited people who feed themselves on others’ pain. Or they make use of it on your disadvantage. Just hide it, hide everything and you will be fine.”

They say it a lot.

But they never say that silence can be more harmful than knowledge.

What if they knew all about me? My past, my illness and all the things they don’t know, and all the things that make me seem strange in their eyes. My past is past. My illness is still with me. And in fact, I feel much better when someone knows about my panic disorder. I use it not as an excuse for my behaviour, but it sets me free. Once I say it out loud ‘I have panic disorder’ all my fears disappear. I stop thinking about what they think about me. They know it and they can do with that info whatever they want. I am not afraid. Maybe because most of the time people cannot say a word as they had never met the illness before.

Maybe there are situations when I shouldn’t talk about it, people that shouldn’t know about it, but to be honest, I really don’t know how they could hurt me with this knowledge. Yet, I am well aware that poor spirited people can come up with the most incredible methods of trying to tear someone down.

But I am still wondering about this; Should I remain silent under any circumstances? Or I should ask just this; Under any circumstances?


‘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. 🙂


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Petition for apology – Bipolar stigmatisation

How utterly disgusting this is..It’s one thing I was told a lot by my friends and family for my panic disorder that I’m just whining because they were unable to understand it but having loads of people on, and looking down upon the strength these illnesses require is just unacceptable. I’m so sick of this.


I can’t actually believe people still get away with stigmatising mental illness, and that it is then allowed to be broadcast either via radio or TV. It is disgusting and proves that there is still a lot of hard work to be done to eliminate these ignorant views.

Please sign this petition to help gain an apology from American radio host, Tom Sullivan, who mocked Bipolar Disorder on air – labelling it as ‘made up’ and ‘the latest fad’.


It will take two minutes of your time, showing that you will not stand for these types of derogatory labels being put on the very real and painful mental illnesses that we suffer with.


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I cannot even think of a proper title for this…

So here’s this guy, on Facebook, one of my “friends”. I wouldn’t call him my friend I just met him a few times. But anyway, he started raging today, posted at least ten times and commented on each posts at least ten times again.

In these posts he kinda’ ordered COWARDLY people to delete him from their friendlist because he wants friends not acquaintances. (Putting aside the cowardly part, he’s correct.) There were two comments by him where he asked, I guess I can say us, to delete him from his life and FB. Also, he told that he only needs righteous people. So then, I wondered why won’t he delete people, instead of begging of ignorant people. But that’s just too simple I guess.

In the second post, he asked if he has God complex. Well, no answers again of course. And also, he said if “you” (I don’t don’t know who he talked about again) think so, then say it if you dare or go to hell. Wow, I’m speechless.

And there were other more outrageous and harsher posts throughout the day, when he cursed the incredulous (I don’t really know which English word to use here, since I don’t know who he talks about but it means someone who doesn’t believe so I think I kind of got it right) and that he has his right to believe, I don’t know in what exactly.

Then came the lskjlab uibwbkjb. He “shouted” out again to the worms to delete him. Also, when someone asked if he’s alright, he answered that he has never been better, and he asked for a lancet (yeah, really) to cut out the cancer from humanity! At that point, even I started to question if he’s really alright. I wasn’t really surprised at first because he had a really hard childhood and he has always been labelled as “strange”, just like me. In the end, he stated that “snakes appeared though I’m operating openly for one day” said it in kind of a sarcastic tone. Obviously he needs attention. But being honest, doesn’t need force, I think.

Actually, I can understand that extreme anger he feels right now about people and the world. But I don’t think that this behaviour would do any good to him. Because half of those people who saw these don’t care at all, and the other half may understand it but remain silent since it is pointless to say anything. And it actually turned out that someone called the police and the ambulance as well, which only increased his anger and I’m sure he never stopped for a moment to think that maybe someone is worried about him.

So what is the point of this post?

Firstly, the reason why I usually refrain from speaking my opinion is that it’s a double-edged sword and in my opinion if you cannot use it wisely, then don’t use it at all. And in this case I think he should just do whatever he wants to make his life or even the world better instead of raging on a site where people usually share photos about food, wines and parties and post deep quotes to pics that don’t even relate.

The other thing is that people tend to criticise others for traits they don’t like about themselves. I think this guy does this too and the problem that he’s a very stubborn type so you cannot even explain to him. Also, I posted it here because I’ve met some people here who may understand it. (Un)fortunately, we’re in a society where everyone is “free” to speak their minds via several social media sites, though I’m not sure people who constructed Facebook, could envision that these kind of things would happen just because there is the sentence: What’s on your mind?

So in the end I got really sad. Because I pitied this guy who actually had some points and also because ever since these highly popular social media sites exist people and the world changed into something not necessarily good. We usually chat instead of meeting, we share our opinions and people either ignore us or we’ll become piled up in a bunch of hate mails. Sometimes, we cannot tell our problems to our families or friends, instead, we’re starting a blog where complete strangers may support and encourage us. It is a really good thing, so don’t misunderstand me, I’m really happy I have found WordPress, but at the same time it’s quite sad, isn’t it?

And labels of course. Even if what you say may have some credit you immediately become strange, crazy or whatever.


Good(?) Neighbouring

Today’s assignment on Blogging 101 was to comment on four blogs you haven’t even known yet. So, here are the four blogs I commented on:

Why this? Because I am a type who actually hates unnecessary criticism, especially on appearance. I have braces and until I had enough money to have it, I had been bullied what my teeth look like ever since primary school. Probably due to this, now I don’t care what people look like and sometimes I don’t even realise things people criticise others about. That’s just the way I am. I think, what’s inside is more important than any appearance, no matter how wonderful it may be. And that would be really great if people in this busy world could stop for a moment to learn how to read between the lines.

The second one was about role models, here:

I tend to be really inconfident sometimes (just like everyone else) but there are people who manage to cheer me up whenever I’m down. And the point here, is that maybe what I do here seem to be strange, fuzzy or crazy, that is me after all, and I just have to keep being myself. This is what my role models taught me.

The third one was a simpler but still a meaningful post.

Well, therapy…lost of people could say a lot about it, so I think no special explanation is needed here.

The last one was on successful and happy people. I think, success comes to happy people easier, and happy people are aready successful. And why this post grabbed my attention is because I just want to be happy. Not especially rich or famous, just happy, whatever it means to me.

These were the ones I felt are somehow connected to me. All of them are great, so read them if you feel like, 🙂

Also, thanks for reading this, and sorry for the plain post. I’m not in a very creative mood today. 😛