Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.


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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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Once in a While…

A few days ago, something unusual happened to me.

Outside my blog, my panic disorder is a secret. Only a few people, who are the closest to me know about it. Also, about my abusive, alcoholic father, who beat my mom in front of me when I was a child. People hardly realise my sensitivity both when it comes to my inner peace and when I have to deal with everyday problems.

Those people cannot see into my mind, don’t know about my past, basically I seem to be a less then ordinary person to them. Somebody strange, a little weird, too silent and somebody who is afraid of almost everyone. But I’m quite fine with it. Furthermore, sometimes I love this idea that at least in my mind I can be alone and don’t have to express every feeling of mine. I have something I can keep only to myself.

As a result of these, over the years I got used to that people make judgements about me without getting a little closer to me, they arbitrarily label me as a weep, a doormat to rub their dirty feet on, somebody perfectly irresponsible, because I overslept due to my sleeping problems, and disorganised because they cannot see the mess that overtakes my mind, neither can they feel the fear that every little physical symptom of my illness raises in me. Over the years I got used to hide these things in me, and endured the painful prejudices without defending myself as I was well aware that some people simply cannot understand it. In fact, I never expected anyone any more to realise and not even acknowledge that I have a much bigger problem than what they think. I decided to fight all alone for my own good because I know no one else would do this for me.

But the other day, first in the approximate 7-8 years of living with my panic disorder, me and my illness got acknowledged. It happened on the primary school graduation of my distant nephew. I haven’t been in their town since I was a little girl but all of his family remembered me. His grandpa smiled when he saw me and said ‘here comes the shy little girl’. I didn’t really understand why he said that, I was so little when we last met that I could hardly recognise him. Later my mom said, I wasn’t really friendly towards him in the past. So I told him I can’t remember that time but I’m sure there was nothing personal about it. Then, he told me of course, and he didn’t mind as he knew I was just a little girl, and maybe his really deep voice scared me. Or..

He said he heard about my past, he didn’t elaborate on that so I asked him what exactly je was talking about. Instead answering, he just patted my head, smiled gently and said that we don’t have to talk about it.

This little acknowledgement and unexpected care surprised me so much, I just stood there petrified and couldn’t believe what had just happened to me. The little girl in me was more shocked, I was simply surprised. She would’ve cried but I didn’t. This very simple but caring act of grandpa melted my heart and I felt that all my silent sufferings got acknowledged. And this feeling was simply awesome. I wish all of us could experience something like this, at least once in a while.

Pic from Pinterest


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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


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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.