Sunday, August 21, 2016

013: Long Time...

No see. But here I am, drinking pomelo juice and thinking about which color to paint my nails next: red, black or the same dark blue almost black that's already on them. They are chipped and in a drastic need of a manicure, however I am not willing to spend the time on that. I have British crime shows to watch - and night shifts, again.

Things have changed. I have changed. Ever since the therapy, of course, but before that... 2016 started with the change - and with great time spent on the slopes. Lately though, I am enjoying this change even more. I have not only the freedom for it, but the time and the means. It's the easiness of it all that scares me. But I guess that's what a comfortable life offers, right? And there's always depression and anxiety peeking around the corner, patiently waiting. Only I am more prepared now and not as scared. In the end, life is not pink, but when I understand the point of it all (spoiler alert, there is none), I take things less seriously, live lightly and enjoy life more. Take advantage of it, you know?

That being said, adult-like-things are still on the list. And they freak the hell out of me. I can feel the anxiety sneaking in just when I think about them and my first instinct is to mail or call my therapist and schedule an appointment. Which is a much better way to deal with this than a panic attack. 

We are buying a car... possibly this year, and that scares me a lot.

Yes, I only have pictures with pajamas.

Sunday, August 7, 2016

012: After the Insomnia

I am sleeping. 

Before the Insomnia my sleep was sporadic and overall bad; I was waking up a million times a night and falling asleep was so hard. In the end, I didn't feel rested at all. Now... After the Insomnia, my sleep is perfect. I hope I won't jinx it. I sleep so much and I feel so rested and the sleep is so calm. 

This blog is turning into a sleep diary. I reckon a third of the posts on it are about sleep. But it doesn't matter now, because at least for a while my sleep is good. And I plan to enjoy it.

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

011: Sleep Will Not Come...

...because sleep does not will it.


I am quite used to bad nights, but tonight was the worst. Less than two hours of sleep kind of bad. And while that could be enough some days, it is not today.


...

This is the second day of insomnia... I guess I can call it that. I had a night shift, however sleeping during the day didn't happen either. I'm sleep deprived. I'm in Sibiu and I'm on autopilot. We walk the streets and all I do is miss Cluj.

It's because I'm not present.

It's hard to be when I barely slept on the bus and then it took me a while to fall asleep in the apartment we stay in for this trip. I did in the end. After the rain started. It helped. Less than one hour though.

Insomnia never killed anyone, I used to think in high school when I was dealing with this not for two days, but for weeks. But things are different now. I am on fucking vacation. With people. And I am trying my best to be civilized and not explode because I am so easily annoyed these days, but I know it's not their fault... it's just the lack of sleep.

I will sleep tonight.


...

It is... the fifth or sixth day or night since the... awakening.

I lost count of how many hours I slept. I am frustrated. Not because the other people can sleep, but because I cannot and I cannot understand why. What started this all. I read what can follow though and it is my dear old friend depression.


...

I slept with the rain.


...

I started this blog post a week ago and I can finally end it because sleep is here

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

010: Summer

There's something beautifully heartbreaking about summer. The days are longer, yet the time moves faster. We all seem to be in a constant stage of vacation although we continue to go to work... it's summer. Fleeting and whimsical, and utterly unpredictable. And always the cluster of memories.

Nobody makes memories in the spring, or autumn, rarely in the winter - it's more around the holidays. But we all have the remember that summer memories. The party on the beach, the water at night, the skinny-dipping with your best friend, the cold cocktail on the bridge, the long train rides. Good memories, bad memories, but always lived like it was our last moment on this Earth.

This summer I am making new memories. With new people that are slowly becoming old. Some I might regret (I had one too many shots), some I might not even remember, some may or may not involve water guns... but they are all mine. 

This summer is all about doing more, now that I no longer imprison myself in my mind and in my thoughts about how others might perceive me. This summer is about trying more, experiencing more, tasting more, laughing more, caring more (in the good sense) and caring less (in the bad sense), participating more, learning more, being more, getting out more, *insertingverb* more...

This summer is about doing archery and shooting with a gun for the first time (I am really good at it, by the way) - about trying things and not wanting to be the best or expecting to be the best or thinking about what others might thing if I suck at those things, even when they are just banal activities at a party and performance doesn't matter. This summer is about doing things for fun and doing them just because I want to! 

And at the same time, it's about not doing things (not playing volleyball because my wrists might break... again). But as long as I can wear a costume inspired by Clint Eastwood in A Fistful of Dollars and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and at least one person recognizes my inspiration, I don't care about anything else. 

You can say that this summer is about doing things that can distract me from things I cannot do.

In fact, this summer is about taking trips with people, it's about camping and about festivals, about friends and booze. It's adventures and memories and moments and people.

It's summer... and it only just began (in the proper way of the term).

Friday, July 22, 2016

009: Guitar Mussings

I am incapable of learning how to play guitar. My hands refuse to listen. Maybe it's their way of saying "we are not made for this"... 


*15 minutes later, after a few good songs and a couple of mindfulness breaths* 


Or maybe I have finally found something that doesn't come that easy to me. That needs me to work harder and more... Guitar, and learning Hungarian (probably). 

Can you tell that I am no longer angry?

I can either give up or keep going. And I never give up. I sometimes put things on hold. But I always return to them, even if once in a while I have to start from scratch. 

I am here to learn. Not because humans are on Earth for a reason or anything, I just made it my purpose. I like learning and I will always try to learn new things. Especially from other people. And not give up, of course. I will get angry (see above), I will get mad, I will sometimes cry (see past when I was trying to learn how to paint portraits), and sometimes things will come easy to me (see all the math contests from the past), it will take time, and I will almost feel like giving up, but as long as the decision belongs to me I will never do it.

That being said, tomorrow is the Summer Party that my workplace hosts every, well, summer, and there are sports to play... one thing that I gave up, due to circumstances, is volleyball. From all the sports I did when I was a kid, volleyball was my thing. I am the third player in my family, you can say it's in our genes. However, my wrists are weak and easy to break and, at least for now, I need my hands for drawing, so no volleyball for me. 

It's bittersweet.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

008: Knife

I cut my finger. Because of the slippery pit of the avocado. Story of my life.


----

Thank you all for the comments on my anxiety post. 

Your support means a lot, but I hope you understand when I say I do not wish to publish comments on my blog. However, we can always chat on my Twitter or Instagram.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

007: Anxiety

The thing about anxiety (and mental illnesses in general) is that it never goes away. You go to therapy, you learn how it works, how to handle it, you practice, you get better at it. You go to therapy every week. You are kept on your toes, always thinking about anxiety, social anxiety, and about the situations that cause the thoughts that cause anxiety, you expose yourself to those situations, it's homework for therapy, you talk about it, every single week you talk about it with people that are going through the same shit and that know how it is, how it feels, how hard it can be, and with two therapists that are there to support you and help you and teach you how to deal with anxiety. 

And then the therapy is over.

You are changed. It worked. Your friends notice that you are different. You talk more, you smile more, you joke more, you laugh more, you are going out more, you are doing different things, you got a fucking job that involves talking on the phone in another language, helping people, when months ago you were scared of calling someone new for something you needed. You are better. You think you are better. You are in control, the thoughts are still there but you do not give them power. You don't trust them or believe them anymore. You know they are just masks, they are fake and they are only there to stop you from enjoying life.

And then weeks pass. 

You are getting used to this. You start to not pay attention to them as much. The thoughts come and go, you neither believe them nor try to destroy them. They live alongside you, but not being part of you.

More weeks pass and you wake up alone surrounded by people, believing a little bit the thoughts that are in your head. 

They don't like you, they whisper. You are not good enough. You did something wrong. They hate you. You are annoying. You don't have anything to say. Anything worthwhile. They will never accept you.

They get louder and clearer, until you realize what you are doing. You are giving in. You are losing control to them. But you still have your weapons. 

And they stop.

It happened to me. After therapy, I felt strong; and then, as time passed, I slowly stopped thinking about my social anxiety. When you don't think or do something every week is really easy to forget about it. But it will never go away. It will always be there in the back of your mind, hiding in the dark, waiting for another moment of weakness. All you have to do is remember that this is a continuous fight and one step back does not mean you have lost.

Should things get harder, there is always someone out there you can ask for help. But for now, I can handle this myself.