Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.


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Little Words, Huge Worlds

I have been sitting on this post way more than it was necessary.

There were tons of things and stuff happening to me lately. I don’t even know where to start.  Maybe I should start by mentioning I have moved to Budapest (the capital of Hungary) half a year ago. To be exact on 4 September …

… because I started university. Yes. I decided to try myself in Japanese, even though I already have a university degree in English. I felt studying on my own and taking a language examination in itself won’t be sufficient for me to step into the next level. And to be honest, I didn’t think of myself as someone creative enough to prevail with my Japanese knowledge(?) in a small town where there is almost no need for Japanese speaking people.

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I didn’t know the city, nor anyone living here and nobody came along with me. I had had in mind, that it would be very difficult and both phisycally and mentally tiring, especially since I have to work besides studying, for my family cannot support me. But I had thought I had to take this step so I took it.

Let’s be honest. It IS scary. Even after months have passed by. I’m sure it would be scary for most people, but it is super hardcore for someone with a mental illness. Super hardcore. Period.

Anxiety is not easy in itself and I can confidently say that I have managed to lose my initial goal. What was that again? I am not even willing to go back and read the first paragraph. It is quite okay there, what has happened that has happened. Although, I am still more than ready to throw everything away and go back to the life I had before I moved here. This is one of the things that have kept me away from blogging; I was so overwhelmed by my depression that I have felt everything I had written were some serious crap.

Besides the circumstances, and believe me at this point those are the least important, something has changed. Maybe this blockhead has slowly started to learn the lessons needed.

I have just posted something very little. It is too little in fact, comparing to everything that has happened to me lately, and comparing to those sooo many things I’d want to say out loud. But that post was bigger than I first thought it would be. It made me feel extremely anxious when I was about to hit the publish button of something so stupid and uninteresting. It was the same feeling that I felt when I published my very first post ever. It was scary af, but I LOVE this feeling. This is what I need, I don’t know I just simply need it. It did not only race my heartbeat but raised my mood as well. That led me to a serious revelation; I have stepped out of my comfort zone, just to shut myself into a more uncomfortable one.

So, now I won’t reread this, won’t think about anything, just hit publish and I go to my job in that bittersweet reality.

 

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Little Words

So today I have finally written three hundred words, only in half an hour. Not for the blog of course, but that’s still something.

I have tons to say, too bad those million drafts won’t finish and publish themselves.


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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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Restart – Or Why I Write (Writing 101)

Have you ever felt like you must do something extra or at least not so ordinary? I’m sure you have. Or have you ever felt like that your thoughts are engaged something completely nonsensical? Let me explain this.

Here is me, a perfectly ordinary(-looking) young adult, with a certain qualification and a certain job. I have my own struggles with money and life just like everyone else. I also have to mention that I live in a very small town, in a very small country. To someone like me nothing extraordinary could be expected in life. I finished schools, I have a job, probably I will get married one day, have kids and I will work and raise my children until I can retire. That’s it. And here is where we all freak out. That’s it!? Really? At this point, I have to say I’m well aware that lots of people go through this period. I know. But!

Continuing with my example here’s this blog thing. Again, I know, I’ve been a very bad girl, not writing (that’s not really true) or posting (well, that’s true) anything for a while now. I do feel bad about it. But to be honest, the urge never disappeared. For some inexplicable (yeah, I did learn that there is a word like this :D) reason, I feel I have to write the story that’s inside me. Apart from the cliché thing. I do have a story, that’s a bit gory, scary and dark but it’s mine, only it has to evolve, just like me. And I feel excited about it! Even if I’m not writing, I always think about it, creating actions, complication, and also I try to analyze in the terms of my own mental health problems. I really wish I could draw so I could see the scenes I have hard times to write. So I guess I could say I wasn’t completely idle. This time, the urge is stronger, and that’s how it should be I think.

Pinterest

Pinterest

All in all..

I write because I have to. I don’t know why or what for, but this is the beauty of it. 😉


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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