How I hate days like this. For the last two weeks, I felt like it's getting better. It's not great, actually I'm only incrediblly indifferent - but at least not miserable. And good things happen. Awesome faeries emerge from the oracle deck and I find myself actually enjoying life again gather my hopes that everything will be fine.

And then comes a day like today when I can't help but thinking that depression does make you go a little mad. The insane mad, that is. Like you're not yourself anymore. Suddenly you're all miserable again, miserable enough to leave your cousins's birthday party after only two hours because you can't stand it anymore and all you can think is: "You're not being yourself. You ARE not such a miserable, sad and scared person, that's impossible. You don't runaway anymore." But it IS you who can't even get back into the house to say goodbye. Because you felt bad all day and it has cost you a lot of your strength to even go there in the first place and you don't have any strength left to pretend that you're well when you only feel like crying.

At least it's not as bad as it used to be. At least razorblades don't look attractive anymore. That's a damn notable progress. And I find myself blaming women's natural cycle, because there are these days in the month when everything seems three times as bad. But it's not the same.

There are so many things that I am absolutlely grateful for. My wonderful friends - god, these evenings that I spent with them last week were simple awesome! My creativity which is the very thing that keeps me going. My newly discovered spiritual guide, the dear raven. An eye to see the beauty in the world. And these days, I feel and see these beautiful things stronger than ever. Stronger than I could last year.

And right now I want to scream and smash something because the awkwardly acquired feeling of normality - the feeling of "this is how life is supposed to be on normal days - not on extremely good or extremely bad days" - can be shattered so easily within a minute.

It's damn frustrating. You gather your strength to finally live your life, because you feel it coming - and then you have to shoot it all at once so you can get through the bloody day. One step forwards, two steps back.

I know that it will be okay one day. I feel the progress even now, because even though it's still bad, it's not HALF as bad as last year. No cutting, no wondering of "why am I still fighting?" I know the things that are worth fighting for. It just COSTS so much. On many levels.


I follow the night
Can't stand the light
When will I begin
to live again?

One day I'll fly away
Leave all this to yesterday
Why live life from dream to dream
and dread the day
When dreaming ends?

One day I'll fly away
Fly, fly away.


(and then the dreams will not end and then days won't be dreaded anymore).

ocean.souls am 14.1.12 22:15


Werbung


Connection in an isolating age

It seems weird and incredible that this is the end of 2011 when the end of 2009 seems like three seconds away.

2009 was another first. The first New Year’s Eve since 3 years that I didn’t boycott with Chrissi.  We were invited to Dana’s house, and boy, that was a strange night, for better and for worse. My ex’s behaviour was only part of the negative things. No, the scary thing was me having a moment where I saw it all coming. We were standing on that hilltop, watching the fireworks, and I was all tense and scared because I knew for sure: “If I don’t make it at the audition, my life will take a step into a baaaad direction.” I was already falling apart for a couple of months – I started to feel it in 2009 -, and this unbelievable strong feeling that my life might turn into a dark hole, at least for a while, scared the hell out of me. I was so glad that nobody noticed.

For better, of course, it’s easy to quote Rent, in more than one way: “What was it about that night? Connection in an isolating age.”

My ex behaved like an idiot, as usual, and my three beloved friends all agreed that it sucked. I remember the talks I had with Chrissi about the it. I remember Dani offering me to drive me home if things got really shitty. I remember Dana, with whom I have hardly ever talked about the topic, pulling me into a wordless but damn damn comforting embrace before we left the house around midnight.

And when we came back from that hilltop, the four of us walked through the village, singing “Seasons of love” while dancing on the street and taking funny photos before the church. We read New Year’s horoscopes to one another (I think we all roared with laughter about Chrissi’s and Dani’s prophecies, because they read like the author had been stoned while writing them).

I think it’s very telling that, even though that was quite a tough night for me, these moments with my friends are the clearest memories I have. There is this feeling of connection and affection that I treasure very, very much.

I was completely filled with that feeling on last year’s NYE. We spent it at Dani’s, just the four of us, no party, just a lovely sit-in with the best food in the world, a little bit of booze and those adorable dogs. It didn’t matter that I was on meds and had some rough days behind me. That night was lovely.

 

I can’t believe these years went by so fast. Actually, I hope that next year’s NYE will be cool again. Another boycott maybe.

Because now I’m getting ready for the first NYE since 2002 that I spend with my family, and my motivation is really low. Birthday party with formal dress code. Well, we’ll see. My tailcoat is patched and ironed and the best alternative to a dress I can imagine. That already saves the dress code part of the evening.

 I need more coffee.

 Happy New Year

ocean.souls am 31.12.11 17:41


I know where you sleep.

I know I repeat myself: You still occupy too much space in my mind. You and what you’ve done and what I want to tell you. What I want to tell you runs through my head very oft. It’s always the same.

The things I hear about you these days shock me. Mostly because I’m not able to understand people who behave this way. And I knew you well enough for a long time to know that you do all these things so you don’t have to cope with yourself. It’s ridiculous and irritating.

I have always been stunned that we both face the same shit: Low self-esteem, body issues, lack of ability to express what we want and what we don’t want, lack of expression in general, difficulties to accept ourselves fully… But you run around and smash a lot of precious things so you don’t have to deal with it. You hurt people around you, family and friends. You are ruthless in your manners of procrastination, you behave like a 10-year old and considering that you’re, by now, closer to 30 than 20, that’s quite sad.

It’s not a sin to not get along with oneself. But you don’t even try. You don’t even make an effort. You know exactly what’s wrong – we’ve talked about this often enough – and you don’t bother to make a change but rather cover yourself in your misery or run away and smack down everyone who comes too close to you. Hurt anyone else so you don’t have to feel your own pain. It’s pathetic. Such behaviour makes me angry.

I didn’t even know that I could feel this, but you’re the first person ever to really disgust me.

I find a spark of pride in myself that I don’t deal with my shit this way. In general, I am now able to name quite a few human qualities that I despise because I’ve seen them in you: Cowardice. Ruthlessness. Wilful ignorance. Unkindness. Insensitivity. Inappropriate immaturity. Inability to take responsibility.

I despise the hold you still have over me through your past actions. I despise that you still have a special place because you were the first person for whom I’ve let down my guards completely, emotionally as well as physically – yep, that IS a big deal for me, especially because you used this shamelessly – AND you’re the first person ever who really repulses me. I despise that you have taken and broke my last tiny bit of innocence last February when it wouldn’t have made a difference if you had paid me for sleeping with you or acting the way you did. I despise that I have unconsciously taken over your fear that any touch might hold too much meaning, no matter how harmless, comforting or heartfelt it is. I despise that the scars you inflicted still hurt so much. I despise that you have managed to tear apart even more of my already thin self-esteem.

At least I know now why I’ve let you do this for so long: Not only because I loved you (-“I can never live it down”—uhm.), but rather because I couldn’t and didn’t want to believe that the one person my heart chose to open up for after 18 years would turn out to be such an asshole.

At least I know now for sure that I WILL be able to deal with my shit and to get along with myself. I don’t know how, but I will. Seeing and hearing what a spineless person you are only makes me more determined to get better. I want as much space as possible between me and you, in any possible way.

Of course, hearing about all the stuff you’ve done in the last months makes me wonder even more why you want to meet me. If you need a shoulder to cry on, you must be really desperate to turn to ME for that. You have nothing to expect but a bitchslap from your bitter and cynic ex. It takes a LOT to get me angry, it takes a LOT to stop me from feeling pity. You managed both. Congratulations. And since the dragon within me is already stirred, you better beware now.

This was a rather pointless rant, but it’s always the same on this blog: I write it, I post it and I hope to make it true by putting it out there. Of course, everything in this post is easily summed up in the lyrics of I know where you sleep.

I know the sickening thoughts that slither around your head
I know the gluttonous guilt that buried me in your bed
Manipulate me if you can - Go on and fool me like your biggest fan


I know the arrogant pride that poisons the truth you hear
I know the bigoted tongue that tears away all your fear
Pontificate you faded star - Go on and show me who you really are

You can lie to the papers, You can hide from the press
You can fake it on stage, You can crawl from your cage
You can search and destroy, You can kill and depend on it
I know your tainted flesh, I know your filthy soul
I know each trick you played, Whore you laid
Dream you stole

I know the bed in the room in the wall
In the house where you got what you wanted and ruined it all
I know the secrets that you keep
I know where you sleep

I know the illness behind the image you create
I know the tedious need to turn all you love into hate

You poor pathetic paranoid
Is it just me or do you secretly enjoy it?

You play the victim very well
You build yourself indulgent hell
You wanted someone to understand you
Well be careful what you wish for because I do

You’ve got a fancy turn of phrase
You set your trap
You made your plays
You’re so fond of games
You must never lose
Funny how the only one in your bed is you

Oh my god, Oh my god
I touched you
I can never live it down, I can never live it down
God save the queen
I loved you
I can never live it down, I can never live it down
Oh, oh - I fucked you
I can never live it down, I can never live it down
I can never live it down

You can lie to the papers, You can hide from the press

You can fake it on stage, You can run from your cage
You can search and destroy, You can kill and depend on it
I know your tainted flesh, I know your filthy soul
I know each trick you’ played, Whore you laid
Dream you stole
I know the bed in the room in the wall
In the house where you got what you wanted and ruined it all
I know the secrets that you keep
I know where you sleep.

ocean.souls am 23.12.11 09:08


[erste Seite] [eine Seite zurück]  [eine Seite weiter]
Gratis bloggen bei
myblog.de