Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.


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For Starter…

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As for the first thing to write about in the new year, I have to tell you something important. Though, earlier I said I don’t believe in making resolutions, there was something I wanted to try. (By clicking the link you’ll se what I’m talking about, and by the way I’d like to thank the reader who somehow found this older post of mine and reminded me of one of my most important goals in my life 🙂 )

My last year was good and bad, but considering my mental health, which affected my life the most I have to say it was awful. Even despite the fact that I was/am medicated. And this is the point. A few weeks ago I realized something terrible and scary as hell. As a result (or side effect) of my medication I started losing the ability to feel. I couldn’t cry and couldn’t even laugh. Considering this, it is no surprise I was away from blogging, right?

After that realization, I decided I would stop taking medications. I had had my problems even before I started using tranquilizers but the problem was they remained and even got stronger after I got my treatment.

Now, I am taking one pill in every third day instead of taking them each day. In the beginning, it was awful, painful and frightening. Now, I am a bit clumsy, forgetful and goofy, but I have emotions and feelings as well. That is progress! Hopefully, soon I’ll be able to live and cope without any drug and I can gain back the control over my mind and life as well.

As for blogging, I won’t promise anything, I just wanted to tell you all of this.

Happy new year and have a nice day Everyone!

Cheers^^

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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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Things My Panic Disorder Taught Me – Writing 101 Day 2

Life in itself is a coursebook with lessons to learn. Only it becomes a bit thicker if it is coloured with a certain mental disorder. Here is a short but very consistent list on what my panic disorder taught me:

  • Even though there are problems in my life I have to solve on my own, I’m never alone.

I mean, really. This is the hardest thing to admit, right? We, humans, all love to suffer, accuse others for our misfortunes and it all goes right until we bump into someone, who desires to help without any second thoughts. Then our whole view of the world goes upside down and if we are lucky enough we can finally learn to see the bright side of life. Watch out mates, these people do exist! Thankfully 🙂

  •  Sometimes, actually most of the time, I am the only one who knows what’s the best for me.

I know, this is going a bit against the first point but this is another important lesson I’ve learnt…the hardest way. Just think about it. At times when we are inconfident we tend to ask advice even in matters that don’t really affect other people besides us. Furthermore, there is that very annoying situation when we know exactly what we should do, but since it seems harder or a bit nonsensical we may end up doing what others think is best even though it’s result will be boring or unsatisfying for us. Then we think; ‘oh man, I should’ve done what I wanted to’. Rings a bell? And when we end up in a mess not listening to our intuitions? Nope, nope. Though, I have to say, I don’t mean we should never look for advice or take care of the opinion of people around us it’s just we have to learn to make a difference between healthy selfishness and sacrifice.

  • I am my biggest critique.

Literally. Have you ever been in a situation, or I should say in such a bad period of your life when you constantly thought people around you do nothing but tease you, deceive you and even talk about you behind your back? That you were so cautious not to say anything inappropriate that you ended up like as if you weren’t even there? Because you were afraid they would take all of your words and actions in the exact opposite way you meant them? If not then you are a very lucky dude. I have and it was a horrible feeling.
It is like you always have to be en guard to be able to protect yourself because you take every little sigh, words and actions of others as a potential threat.
Thankfully by now I have managed to clear this exhausting misunderstanding that occupied my mind. Most of these thoughts were ignited by my own imagination and self-hatred. A frighteningly incontrollable menace of my own darkness.

Maybe some of these points sound familiar to you or even may help to realise and face your own problems if you have any. That would be great!
If not then thanks for your time 😉


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The F Word

Last night I got a very uplifting message from one of my blogger friends. I have to admit we are real friends now and after talking about our everyday stuff and so on, she told me she’s missing my posts. Well, I miss them too.

To be honest, I didn’t truly disappear from WordPress. I did something worse than that. I came up, read some blog posts, liked them, and even started writing my own stuff. But then, all the great and meaningful ideas that made me writing lost their purpose. I felt that whatever I do was pointless and perfectly stupid. Unfrotunately, this was true for everything I’ve done even outside the blogosphere. I told my friend that I gave up. Not only on blogging but basically everything. I felt that I’m worthless, useless and that I’m perfectly nothing. You know, that is the most dangerous thing about depression. It can control your mind and if you let it it will eventually take the leading role of all of your life. What is more, it does it without you noticing it. Though, at the beginning you just feel something is not right but cannot really name the monster that crawled up from under your bed right into your thoughts. No matter how hard you try you cannot reveal it, because you can’t find it in it’s regular place anymore. After some point, you even may give up searching. I have to say this is one of the worst things I’ve ever done in my life.

I can remember how afraid I was when I handed in my draft of the very first story to writing class, and also I can remember how afraid I was when I published that same story on the blog I started back then. This blog I mean. I was so terrified of what people would say about what I hadwritten. I was scared they would hate it, criticise it or simply they wouldn’t understand it. But I also remember what a great relief and delight it caused me when I read the comments either here in the comments section or on the handouts I got back from my classmates.

Yes, there is something that can petrify me – all of us –  but as soon as I manage to get rid of that frozenness and follow my inner voice I will eventually get my reward for the persistence to keep on fighting. I just cannot let myself forget about this.

So, do you know now what that “F” stands for?

In the hope of meeting again soon,
Adri


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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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To myself and my fellow sufferrers of Compulsion for Comformity

Just kill that demon, we can do it!

“If you do anything out of the ordinary, you can be sure someone, somewhere, will get upset,”

(Tamaru, 1Q84, book three by Haruki Murakami)

And remember if they are upset, it’s their problem, not ours! 😉

Hugs ❤


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Labyrinth Chase

Steep concrete road leading somewhere high, so sleek I couldn’t find a handle that would help me climb. On the sides of the road people were cheerfully chatting no one desired to help me and I insisted on remaining unnoticed. Finally reacing the top there was a huge nice house so big and compound I couldn’t decide where to enter.

First, a little wooden house greeted me with its neatly arranged simple but warm design. The only one room it contained seemingly served as a doorman; greeting those who wander there and lead them inside to one room after the other. It was pretty and inviting yet an emptiness designed its aura.
The backdoor led to a calm and beautiful little forest, as if I was taking a trip with my classmates. Leaving the woods behind the scenery and the atmosphere changed dramatically. There were no woods any more, no trace of life could be felt anywhere, except the distant sound of the people at the entrance, their joyful chatterings as if they didn’t even know what a strange phenomenon lies right aside their feets.

My journey to the myterious complex went on silently like a thief when sneaks into a house to rob the treasures of those who are sleeping sound. But instead of a dark nightly feeling, the sun shone brightly shedding light on my steps to places unknown.
Rooms lied ahead of me, empty and lifeless waiting for someone to explore their secrets.
Behind a huge old and decayed door deathly silence prevailed wherever my steps took me. After some neat but plain rooms with disused furnishing narrow tunnels led me to an even older room. To get there a hidden door opened in front of me to see dust and useless scraps dancing with the holes on the walls. I had a mate on my journey, a shapeless self foloowing me as a shadow, and both of us knew well where woul lead us our next steps.

But then as we decided on going deeper we could hear the angry noise of the earlier joyfully chatting ignorant people. We hid behind a tatty sofa and tried our best to flee through another hidden door. Opening a door there was another little and shadowy room with no exit only a little window to go through. We crawled and then arrived at a dusty and dark place, this time there were even no windows. Stepping a few ahead thin but long wooden rods were lined up with huge emptiness around them and beneath light and clear air prevailed.
Hearing the people getting louder we crawled on the rods and let us fall down.

Landing on a wooden a floor I realised that now I was completely alone. Self disappered somewhere without me noticing it. But it didn’t really bother me because the place I finally reached was an incredibly empty, abandoned yet peaceful area. It was the temple, the heart of the labyrinth. The temple was all wooden and had no furnishing in it. No tables, no statues or painting on the walls. Yet the back wall was full of glass letting the sunshine in. There was no entrance of the temple only sliding doors on the side of the glassy wall leading to an abandoned, once lovely garden. Sometime in the past one of the sliding doors was left open and through time the dry leaves were swept in making them the only inhabitants of the temple. The angry noise of the people got louder and louder with every step I took further. For some reason they didn’t want me to see what was in the empty labyrinth. Yet I wanted to be there. I stepped out into the garden to see the old-fashioned garden furniture deemed to fade and a nicely constructed little pool with beautifully crafted tiles. All of them were dusty, dirty and the patterns of them started to fade away. A little pond was also there with lively fish inside and nobody knew how they anaged to survive for this long time. Dead leaves covered them as if they were their guardians trying to protect them from the harmful effects of not being taken care of. And finally I was there.

Interestingly enough, the temple opened to a huge and outer space, from the hill where my journey started nothing of these could be seen. Getting my time running out all the people out there were close to the hidden room that led secretly to the temple. Except me, everyone knew, where to get inside. Except me everyone knew where to get outside. The garden I was in did not lead anywhere. I came in through hidden doors losing my sense of time and place along the road. The people were hammering at the door and yelling. Against my will, I finally found another uphill, this time it was soil and wet really really hard to climb. It took me to the entrance, the little wooden house that greeted me when I entered the palace. The little passage avoided the concrete road that led me inside.

On the sides of the road people were cheerfully chatting no one desired to help me and I insisted on remaining unnoticed. They were the same people, the same who chattered, the same who yelled and chased me out. And right when I got out I realised that I completely forgot the way I took to the temple, and even forgot about what I’ve seen there.

Pic from Pinterest

Pic from Pinterest