Good Night & Good Luck

8 Nov

The last post on this blog was posted July 15, 2013. For the sake of closure, I believe that I owe it to myself to write something  summarising the abrupt end. There is no question that this blog was a vehicle to put my thoughts on paper. I eventually started to novel-ise them for a time. Then I life got in the way, as it often does. In any case, I no longer feel the need to continue in this vein – though I do hope that it was interesting or of benefit for you out there. All that I can say is despite of the pressures of the world, stay true to yourself and learn to build your own happiness.

To whomever is out there and still reading.

Good Night & Good Luck.

xo

For other things from me, check out: Mangeons, mes Chatons! 

Exile of the mind

15 Jul

There is indubitable power in words. We use them thoughtlessly, often times not realizing what we’ve said until after we’ve said it. Debates go on about the origin of thought. Which one has primacy? The spoken word, or the subconscious thought? When in the evolutionary process did it become necessary for us to express increasing complex conceptual constructs that started becoming more and more formalized? We may never know, but as a race that is most communicative, we manage also to be the least capable to express our needs. There is something to be said about having too many tools, and not knowing which one to choose or how to use them.

I’m fully aware of the power words have in my life. Beyond gaining my livelihood from them, thoughts and ideas become real, take on a physical form for me through words. To give someone access to this is open up irreparably. I have seen how reckless I can be in this, and at the same time how meticulous I can be in protecting my life from my own thoughts. There are angry people in my life, angry that I have not said anything about certain things until after certain decisions were made. I only had one explanation: to say the words, was to make it true. And to make it true, was to have to do something about it. And to do something about it, meant dealing with consequences that I was not prepared to face. In some ways, that was easy. I was playing a game of hide-and-seek with myself. Waiting for parts of me to catch up. And yes, people are angry, but callously, that is not my problem. No matter how you try to kill yourself to satisfy those around you, someone, somewhere will inevitably be angry. Mostly probably one of those people will probably be you, as you look at what you could have done, should have done, in contrast to what you actually did.

I remember how I once was, and I’m sick of looking into the past. I have this tendency, and I wish l could turn it off, much like I wish I could turn off my mind. Not every chance I’ve taken has turned out for the better. Not every decision that I simply could not help, because I could not listen, would not listen to my inner voice has made me happier. Not every investment has left me fulfilled, or shown me more sense in the world – only less. Yet I look at these choices I make, and I wonder, is the over-analysis just boding as a mask for lack of self-acceptance? For a long time I wandered around thinking that no one would understand, but then I learned understanding sometimes is simply not enough. And what then, when things that were to be different ended up leading to the same conclusion? Because you were chasing something, some Platonic ideal, only to conclude that you’ve now garnered the last bit of evidence to prove that those ideals don’t exist. That scrap of hope was the thing holding you together, and without ideals, status quo is the only thing that makes sense, and that makes no sense at all, because the status quo isn’t enough. It’s never been enough for you.

Harry Winston said “People will stare. Make it worth their while” I suppose some people would take this to be the motto of my life. No matter what version of myself Punk, Arty, Conservative, Hipster, there is one consistent thing – people stare. Once I didn’t know what to do with it, now I do nothing, except find mild amusement in the commentary. There’s a thin line between admiration, jealousy and fear. Nothing I do is extraordinary. I refuse to succumb to certain social norms, because I feel better not living by the rules. I prefer my own attempt at inner peace than sitting around and doing as I’m told. I like to believe that I’m the author of my own destiny, that the only things I can control are the thing I actively participate in. I try to come to peace with the fact that the results are always questionably successful at best. I find peace in the fact that many things that I thought would kill me are only distant memories that I never think about. The only time they ever come out of the recesses of my mind is if I talk to old, true friends and somehow something random makes us reminisce. I cannot count the amount of times I thought my life was over, how many times I cried that things would never be the same, only to realize that I didn’t want that life, and life staying the same was probably the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

Someone once said to me “I knew that I couldn’t love you the way you need to be loved.” The truth is that no one can ever love you the way you need to be loved, but some choose to try. There are people of your choosing as well, and then there are those who are not. Those who simply always were there, because life chose them for you, and love you for who you are to them, in the best way they know how. And you may never get from them what you need, but you need to realize and accept that they are trying their best, and part of loving them back is not to demand that they give you something that they are not capable of. It’s sad, but you can’t force anyone to love you, and patch up the holes in your soul. If this was the case, life would be easy, because it would have some sort of guarantee, no matter how difficult it may be actually find that person. Sometimes, you’re lucky and you meet a magical person who just gets you. All I can say about that, is cherish those moments and hold on to them, because you never know when it will end. They can and will disappear as quickly as they appeared. You will mourn their loss, though they may not even notice that they’ve lost you. Nothing lasts forever. But the worst thing you can to is try to force it back into shape, like forcing a bird into a cage.

Life is only a collection of fleeting moments, that in retrospect may or may not be able to strung together by one stream of consciousness. For those of us who are lucky, they will be able to trace consequences back in reverse, pontificating about the sense in their lives. They will die peaceful and happy in their conviction that everything happens for a reason. For the rest of us, who question reason, who question logic, who question norms, and mostly, irreversibly question themselves, life will be a game of chase, towards something that they can’t even identify other than a simple nagging emptiness that only goes away for split seconds, before shadowing it’s dark cloud over the next experience.

xo
Iz

Today’s Song
Banicja – Bisz

Not all who wander are lost

11 Jun

I’m back. Let’s just leave it at that.

Today, I have some well needed time to myself. It’s making realize something my friends, and one certain person very effectively pointed out: I don’t ask for help. For a long time, I believed I did this because of low self-worth, thinking that I just couldn’t ask – burden other people. I built my own little world, where I like to live and escape. Now, I see very clearly, that at this age, with the shit I’ve lived through, I do ask – very, specific people. I’d like to say that these decisions of who to ask, are somehow motivated through a diligent examination process. But I’m starting to see now much of it is to do with straight up intuition, and how connected I feel to any given person at a given time. The last two months have been a very in depth study of this kind of behavior. But the true conclusion is that, I deal with shit myself, because I like to. I like being a lone wolf. I like my space, and I take it. And it takes a very specific person for me to give it up. The other conclusion is that I give most people who I connect with a full vote of confidence from the get go, rather than building it over time. Then I slowly, and then less gradually, take it away depending on the situation. This method seemed pretty consistent until recently, where one situation has been kind of consistently (haha) blowing my mind. I used to think that these were walls that I was building, and perhaps in some sense they are, but I see now, that rather than being a defense mechanism, this is just my nature.

It all comes down to being a wanderer. I build few strong, lasting bonds, mostly because I bank of the fact that I will eventually disappear. I tell myself, on the other hand, that those around me will grow tired of me, and no longer want to be in my life in this way, but as much as I do hold that fear deep within me, in some ways it’s a simple rationalization of the converse. As, looking back now, it is I who consistently pulls away. Because I disappear.

I come in as a whirlwind, a tornedo of wicked intensity, and greet this version of the world, of myself as a result, for as long as possible until fluidity comes calling and it’s time for change, to start again. Although, I like to think of myself as a good person, loyal, dependable. And it is true that any person who has ever been important in my life remains so, and it’s enough to ask and I will make myself available, the distance I force upon these interactions often makes it impossible for even the strongest to survive. I know that this aspect of myself, hurts and has hurt many in the past. I can be overly warm, overly understanding, overly sweet, in the sense of being a sweetheart. Then suddenly it becomes cut off, because what has been going on in my head and heart as gradual distance, comes down like a sledgehammer to the observer. It’s there, until it’s not. The truth is that every time I do this type of thing, I really do think it’s the last time, but my mind and my behavior and my tendencies in this aspect are at a clear disjoint. I think this is why I’m drawn to connections with people who can easily exert control over me. I’m so go with the flow, that it’s easier for me to conform to someone else’s world than to build my own. You know, again, until it’s not. I think I’m only now learning what that world really looks like for me. Before the potential of what life could look like overwhelmed me, now it seems empower.

Some people have a duality in them, I think generally most people do but only in the sense of public person vs. private. I don’t have that kind of scale, but I do know the more I come to grips with the extremity of my duality, of needs, wants, thoughts and feelings, the more ok I am, the happier I am, and most importantly the more at peace I am. The better I feel in my skin. Part of me wants to write there are a few things I’d like to have a do-over with this year, but that’s not the truth. I see the purpose of everything, every decision. As much as I am a wanderer, some things in your life are meant to be fleeting and serve their purpose. And again I find myself, thanks to those things, the person that stands before you today. That person is better, stronger, and finally is starting to understand not only what the fuck she wants, but the fact that the only foundation that is stable is one you build yourself. Everything else comes later. You get yourself in shit, the only person to pull you out is you, otherwise you expect other people to do shit for you, and you build pathologies into relationships with those around you, romantic or otherwise. The next step is obviously allowing people to help you after your learned to handle things alone, but I’ve already written my thoughts on that at length. Because life is just truthfully at it’s essence thanks to interpersonal relations.

Still, at the end of the day, only one great truth exists in life: growing up is becoming responsible for yourself.

xo
Iz

Today’s Song
Stillness is the Move (Dubstep Remix)- Dirty Projectors

The end

23 Apr

I’ve spent a lot of time pretending throughout my life. I’m becoming more and more aware of how much I have been pretending to myself, to my own detriment. It’s easier to run away to your own fantasy world than to deal with what’s right in front of you. Because what you start to realize is that what’s in front of you is nothing, no matter how much you want it to be something. It has nothing to do with what you objectively deserve, long for or wish to gain. Engaging in life is a risk that most people don’t even think about. Many people just engage in life, as if everything happens intuitively. Life is not intuitive to me. It is to be questioned, challenged, understood, synthesized. Very few people think about things the way I do. Very few people spend their time thinking as much as I do.

It’s easier for a thinker, to sink down into their own depths, to loose sight of the world, as we become overwhelmed by the complexity and nuances of what goes on around us. Yet our wants and needs remain simple, banal even. At the end of the day even people that are the most driven, complicated, really just need the same thing as everyone else – love, compassion, understanding and acceptance. Flying in the face of what is expected from us based on our upbringing, chosen career, path, even physical appearance, is a trying and lonely task. I’m convinced that there are people who appreciate these things about me. Often, I wonder do I ever really appreciate these things about myself, or do I only rely on other’s to grant me the validation I seek? Until I am able to confidently answer that question to the contrary, my demons will easily possess me. I realize, I pave a very lonely road for myself, one where I abuse myself with self-doubt, and self-deprication engrained from my very first conscious thoughts.

I was given a clean bill of mental health yesterday. Told I can go off my meds. I think this is generally a good thing. I know in some ways those meds made me not feel things I should be feeling, which is why I’ve spent more than half my life avoiding pharmacological solutions to latent issues. I cannot really get into what has occurred in the last few weeks, (nor do I want to, to be perfectly honest) other than to say three situations made me feel ‘enough is enough’. I finally listened to myself, and stepped away, and I feel relieved, if not, at times, elated about it.

Being honest with myself, allows me to be honest with those around me, while having the certitude that the consequences of that honesty, are the right consequences, the things that should be. Whether they are subjectively good or bad, they are objectively consistent with all the circumstances that help form them, and that gives me comfort and them purpose.

But I cannot help but know that a certain phase of my life has ended. Finally, ended. I am mourning no longer. I have let go of the pain. And although I know there will always be better and worse days, I feel prepared to stand on my own two feet, and not expect help where no real help will ever be given. This is truly what has been killing me, slowly over the last eight months – seeking the wrong things from the wrong people, loosing myself at their hands, when they could not give what they were never capable of giving in the first place. I cannot say what the future holds, and part of me feels unsettled. But I know that is simply fear. I know I can handle myself. I know my own strength in my own vulnerability, and I know I will no longer take part in situations where everything I have to offer is taken for granted, looked on disapprovingly, or unappreciated.

I deserve more. I strive for more. I want more.

xo
Iz

Today’s Song
Can’t Hold Us – Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

Living dead

30 Mar

I’m writing this from a train somewhere between Krakow and Warsaw. Being on a train gives you lots of time to think, or work, as the case maybe. I often wonder if people spend as much time reflecting on life and events as I do. I can’t help it, I’m generally in a pensive state of some sort about 90 percent of the time, when I’m not working on something. I don’t ever stop thinking. I am psychologically incapable of turning my brain off. This manifested itself from the earliest of ages, with the most common complaint from teachers on report cards being “Irena is prone to daydreaming.”

The concept of daydreaming sounds so romantic to me. As if the daydreamer was imagining themselves somewhere else in another life, with other things going on around them. This certainly is not what goes on in my head. When I zone out, I’m thinking through things in my life, decisions, projects, ideas. I have started to realize that I’m rather not present more often than I am present.

This has its benefits and its downfalls. The benefits are that I generally think things through very thoroughly prior to making decisions. It also means that I can connect dots and process ideas on the spot to come up with solutions extremely quickly. My mind it used to weighing many variants at one time. The downfall is that I overthink certain things, am overly sensitive because of it, and can allow my negative self-talk to get the better of me. It also means that I can dissociate my true self and feelings from my behavior when something is very painful or difficult for me.

I know I haven’t written anything in quite sometime, and that’s because I have been going through a very difficult time over the last few weeks. I had a total nervous break-down 3 weeks ago. My psychosomatic symptoms got so bad that I felt like someone was sitting directly on my chest, while at the same time having constant palpitations. It lasted for 7 days straight. To make matters worse, I was so tired from not having slept normally in years that I couldn’t employ my usual rational inner dialogue to sooth the situation. Instead, my negative self-talk and my tendency to take responsibility for absolutely everything going on around me, even the actions of others turned me into a crying mess for 72 two hours straight. The only time I wasn’t crying and clutching my chest was when I was sleeping, which I have to say I aimed to do the majority of the time, because being awake was unbearable.

Needless to say, I went to see my doctor. On Friday, I received a clean bill of health, confirming what we already knew, all of this is just my body’s reaction to the immense amount of stress I’ve been living through over the last few years, and in my life in general. Many unresolved issues have come to a head. I really have no choice but to tackle them head on, in a way I’ve never done before, or things will just continue to get worse. I can no longer burry them deep within myself, dissociate and convince myself this will pass and I will somehow come out unscathed. Because it’s a lie. I come out scathed, and wounded and only pretending that the experience hasn’t changed me, effected me.

Asking for help is difficult. Taking everything on yourself, because you’re used to doing it, because you feel responsible isn’t necessarily the right solution. We are social beings for a reason. Simply put, we choose to share our lives with others because it’s easier than going at it alone. We navigate through life negotiating the boundaries of those relationships, and sometimes we get so hurt that we want to close up and retreat.

We push people away because we’re so mad at ourselves for allowing certain things to happen, because we failed to listen to instinct and open our eyes to foresight, negating any effort we put in the mean time. We placate our negative feelings by convincing ourselves we allowed bad things to happen because we idly stood by, rather than seeing the truth that we did everything we could to prevent certain things from happening, and accepting that something’s are unpreventable. We allow ourselves to get caught up in ‘if only’ and ‘what if’s, because how could we have been so stupid. How could we be so stupid to trust and hope for the best. We convince ourselves that life only exists to bring us down and kick the shit out of us. We vow never be so stupid again, naively thinking we can get through life as an island. So, we take it out on others, and punish ourselves in turn, because we got ourselves into a mess and now we need to get ourselves out of it. We convince ourselves that we don’t need help, don’t deserve help, don’t want help.

The truth is that when we’re hurting ourselves, we hurt the people that love us. We reject them at every corner, drag them down, making them feel as helpless as we feel. Our pride and our conviction that we are alone in the world and can only depend on ourselves, damages everyone around us, and prevents us from building the lives we wish to. We work hard to build distance where we should be building closeness and bonds.

Sometimes the risk of depending on someone else and being vulnerable is heavier than being miserable and mad, and feeling like shit alone. Because maybe the other perspective, and having someone hold you up even slightly, will make you have to rethink your entire paradigm. Because sometimes feeling responsible and acting responsibly are two different things. Sometimes acting responsible is asking for help, despite every bone in your body saying you that you alone can clean up the mess you’ve made. Because succumbing to negative self-talk and alienating yourself is so much easier than rethinking your approach. Maybe, just maybe allowing someone who’s not in stuck in the middle will force you to stop beating yourself up and actually allow you to pick up the pieces in a way that is just not possible in the box of degrading, self-negation you’ve built around yourself.

But the fear is so real, what if you’re wrong? What if you invest in the wrong person. What if they suddenly disappear and go away? So you keep it in, you keep to yourself, pushing people away before they can fail you. Because you’ve convinced yourself that the only thing they can do is fail you, hurt you, and going alone is better, surer. And what you don’t realize is that it’s all because in the end you’re hurting, failing yourself, so no one else can. At least you have control over that. In the end you’re responsible anyhow.

But the truth is, that control is fleeting, no matter how responsible you feel. One day you will start crying at your desk, unable to stop, or you’ll open your eyes in the morning and not have the strength or will to get out of bed and seeing the light of day ever again will seem impossible, because everything will hurt so unimaginably, especially your soul.

xo
Iz

Today’s song(s)

Swit – Zeus

Living Dead – Marina

A fresh breeze

3 Mar

I started writing something entirely different yesterday, but here we are. Another morning, another day, or week, filled with a sinusoid of emotions and experience.

From random observations leading to difficult to answer questions:

And why do you like this song so much, it paints a pretty bleak picture of men (it’s written/rapped by a man).

How does one go about explaining that it is actually positive to me (and not from a women’s empowerment, men are pigs POV), cathartic to listen to, and a whole bunch of concepts that I can’t articulate? Like, really can’t articulate at all, because I’ve never planned to articulate them. They are just mine. No one’s bothered to notice them in all the years of my life. Sure this was a random, harmless enough question. But there was no bullshit way to explain it. I mean, like I said earlier, you ask me something, you need to expect that something mundane is not so much so in my mind. Plus, there’s really no way to bullshit a person when they ask the right question, because they ask that question because of who they are. They are that person who’s able to ask the right question, for whatever reason.

So I said it the best I could in one sentence – which was pretty bad, all things considered and not at all how I wanted or would really go about explaining it (insert flat line here). Because I wasn’t ready to start the discussion it really takes to explain it. Because I never thought anyone would notice how many times I’ve listened to this particular song. Damn you, iTunes. Because who would have thought this random statistic, ‘number of plays’ on iTunes, could become the window into this greater aspect of my life? Because it was and is part of my private little world, my private mentality, my private dialogue with life.

To being able to react during a conversation, when I would have normally internalized it:

Seriously, how could have ever thought that was a good decision?

Finally, being able to react to a comment thrown out and being able to say that something really pisses me off, without feeling that the people listening would somehow judge me for it. Accepting the safe space that I’m in, and that it’s ok to have differing opinions when it’s about something personal. And to just say the words unemotionally.

You know what, it really pisses me off when people say that. We can agree that I’m in my right mind, and I was then, and there were many reasons why I thought it was a good idea, the right idea, the decision I needed, should and, most importantly, wanted to make.

God, what freedom.

To being able to enjoy simple things, for simple things’ sake again.

This one, I’m keeping just for me.🙂

To really understanding the power of baking in my life:

From crying to zero in 20 seconds. And where is the chocolate? Sure, I continue to talk to myself in frustration. But literally 10 mins later, I’m in a state of total Zen. Baking, my Yoga.

Though with all this baking, I really should start doing some Yoga, or something. Ha.

To finally getting mad at the right person for the right reasons, and understanding the pathologies that have been created as a result of not doing so sooner.

Thanks to this, regaining my ability to be alone and choosing to do so and enjoy it without feeling the stress of the world squarely on my shoulders. Not to cave to going out or to inviting someone over to add background noise in order to stop listening to my mind.

Because sometimes you just need the world the leave you the fuck alone.

To knowing when to end a conversation:

Without saying, what fucking planet are you living on? and provoking a longer, more dysfunctional reaction. A longer argument with no productive cause, only to continue hurting the other person more by no holds barred showing them how supremely hurt you are, and demonstrating acutely how completely and utterly it’s their fault. Just leaving it alone, because there is nothing more to be said or done.

To realizing, I seriously need to curb my caffeine intake during the week.

And that possibly the reason I feel so ruined over the weekend, notwithstanding how much shit I have going on, is partially due to the fact that I’m suffering from major withdrawal.

Trying to get back to the healthy habits, I used to have before all this started.

And lastly, to finally, finally get back the positive energy that makes the world such a wonderful place.

I have a plan, that requires a little tweaking, but I can’t wait to share it with you all.

Spring is in the air. Enjoy the rest of the weekend, lovers.

xo
Iz

Today’s song
Lucky Day – Nicola Roberts

Expanding horizons

25 Feb

Over the weekend, I was taken a back. To be honest, on Friday, I went out not expecting anything and it turned out to be one of the best nights out I’ve had in a really long time. Isn’t that always the way? No pretense, just straight talk and goofing around, a small snowball fight, and, well, an impressive amount of 90210 trivia. It’s funny because despite being a very open person, it takes me a long time to feel comfortable and acclimatize to people.

In any case, during all of this, someone who has become very close to my heart, kind of randomly, took one look at me and said, What’s up Iz? you look so sad.

Within two seconds of me saying hello, the smiles, the giggles, my loud gregarious facade, there it was, mask dissolved. Now there’s a fact about me, I’m never embarrassed to own what is going on with me. You ask, I’ll basically say it straight up. You need to be prepared. Because frankly, according to me, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. That said, there is something about having someone you spend a relatively large amount of time with, in a fairly random situation, take one look at you and diagnose you that’s absolutely disarming.

But what’s one to do? You’ve been disarmed. Your rifle is down. And with this person, in particular, I’m ok with that. Because they are genuine – a true friend. I know I can count on them. Most importantly they get me, and they appreciate how I go about living in the world. It’s something they admire, which is something I totally admire about them. Frankly, I just admire them, they make my life a more awesome place to be in their small way. All of it makes me so happy, because I often feel like my way of going about things is not only unappreciated, but totally misunderstood. I feel so shut down completely when people judge things that are really important to me, that I become completely inarticulate. But in this case, our random conversations – because most of our conversations are just that: random – are so completely connected, that I often wonder how it is that the cosmos bring these people into your life.

It makes me think about the type of person I am, and what I did that night as well, admits the beer. I was the epitome of me, and no part of me walked away from that situation thinking ” I wish I had never put myself out there.” Which I must admit, I doubt myself, and have doubted myself far too much for as long as I can remember. And I spent most of the weekend realizing exactly why that goes on, and mourning parts of my life with great big heaping tears, because those reasons are really reasons to mourn (but that is another story for another day).

But that night was just like ‘take it or leave it, people’. Take this crazy, devoted, emotional, passionate person or leave it. I will over share, and I will ask for opinions. Sometimes. I will be mute and not say anything at all. I will take you out of your comfort zone, because I am clinically unable to have bullshit conversation (unless it’s about a bunch of trivia that is placed in the dark recesses of my mind). I am critical about the world and myself to a fault. Yet, I seek the beauty and the good in it – I try to bring the good in it to life. I believe fiercely that life is about sharing experience and seeking fellowship and understanding.

I will babble randomly, especially when I don’t know what to say, but I think you’re worth getting to know. I have an opinion about absolutely everything. If I don’t share it, you’re doing something wrong. Because, I’m not shy about my opinions, and I’m not shy to pontificate. I’m sorry, it’s true and it’s fucking hereditary. I don’t skirt over niceties. If I sit there in silence, it’s time for you to start asking yourself questions, because I’m either thinking something out, or deciding whether I should share what’s on my mind. If I’m mulling that over, you better believe that it’s something important to me, and I’m in the process of figuring out if you’re a safe enough place to see that vulnerability. But get it straight, I’d like you to be safe enough, if you’re up for the challenge. If you’re not, just say it straight up, don’t be half-assed about it.

And even if it seems like I’m talking a lot, and sometimes about nothing, I’m always listening and I really care. I listen intently and I genuinely want to help, even if moments of silence are far between. I care too much. I care about people I shouldn’t even care about. I know their issues are not my problem, but I still care enough to give them an honest, genuine opinion when asked, and to genuinely worry about the outcome.

If I want to spend time only with you, count yourself as lucky, because there are few people I choose to spend time with one on one. I love the energy of a group. I love floating from person to person and learning new things and seeing new perspectives. I love going out and randomly meeting new people. So, if I’ve done that, if I’ve chosen to be with just you for any amount of time, it means that you are special to me. If I’ve invited you into my home, then it’s a whole other level. Don’t waste it, because it disappears quickly when it’s not being appreciated. You won’t even notice it happening. I will just suddenly be gone.

All of which gets me to what I admire most about my sis, her ability to own her crazy. It’s part of what makes her so fucking fabulous. I feel like this weekend was part of a breaking point. Me finally owning my fucking crazy. You want this? You’ve got it, but you’ve got it totally. I mean, I just wrote a fucking idiot’s guide. I’m so tired of dancing around what other people dictate in my life, because there seems to be a whole group of people who appreciate me, for fucking me. Even if they think I’m a little weird, and little eccentric, a little unique, a little hard to figure out, hard to place and tons too understanding. Because, I am.

But that’s no reason for me to feel guilty for asking for people to be there for me. Or saying that I need them to be, or, even harder, to admit that they really matter to me. And for me to understand, no matter how much I might want someone to be there for me, not everyone is up for the challenge.

Why should I question my gestures of good will, knowing that I live only so that my contribution to the world makes the world that much of a better place, even if it’s only one silly cupcake at a time? For putting a smile on someone’s face, when they’re having a bad day. Or just because. Because I fucking care, I want everyone to be smiling, and I will do my part to make it happen. Because I do things for total strangers, for no other reason but kindness’ sake. Because paying for a random person’s coffee who’s next in line, is just going to brighten their day. Because bringing that little piece of sunshine into people’s lives, is what life is about. And to not get that, is to not get me. Because if life is about anything, then the one thing it ought to be is personal.

Have heart.❤

xo
Iz

Today's song

Avicci vs Nicky Romero – I Could Be The One

ps. this vid totes makes me appreciate the girls Ibiza trip last summer. If you haven’t gone. Go. It will change your fucking life.

If You Dare

21 Feb

There is a certain risk in putting myself out there through these writings, and bringing you all along this journey that is my life, self-reflection and wherever it leads. Over the months since August, I’ve been rallied with whispers, very rarely to my face, that the cryptic messages I write about here or things on my Facebook, for example, are a manifestation of one given situation in my life. This brings to my attention how we all allow our perceptions of the people around us, and our own worldviews to interpret the things happening around us in a very simplistic way. It is so easy to linearize based on half-truths. And maybe, I’d like to set the record straight that most of what I write is not at all about one single thing, though it certainly impacts my worldview and my reactions to what I experience going through life right now, and in the future no doubt.

My motivations are different. I internalize and think about things motivated by any number of things, from reoccurring situations to single conversations or observations. To state that one given situation is the one thing driving all of this, no matter how central to my life it maybe, is to reduce me to that one thing. I’ve spent enough years being reduced to one thing by nearly everyone around me, except, thankfully the actual people involved. Despite that, I barely survived. We are all still barely surviving the consequences, which are far from defined.

What we don’t realize is that making blanket statements about people and categorizing them, although natural, (helping us put order into the world around us) often robs people of their identity. As Quine states, any two worldviews are equivalent insofar as their descriptions contain an equal amount of true statements. Lucky for Quine, the metaphysical was empirical. But we know from the experience of our lives, this is not how we interact with the world. Our metaphysical ‘truths’ are deeply personal and completely un-empirical. Some would argue, that they should fundamentally be un-empirical in nature.

All this to say, things for which we have no real evidence color how we look at the world, and how we feel within it. No matter how strong a person is, they often find themselves helpless, unable fight back, because everyone’s impression and treatment of them carries an impossible, intangible weight. The results are detrimental and dangerous. As we are all social beings, our social sphere, for better or worse, does impact the way we look at ourselves, and, as a result, our self worth. How many times do we look to answer why someone feels a certain way, and the empirical evidence simply does not add up? Certainly, some people are more immune to these influences than others. But who is resilient in these situations and who is not is dependent on a number of factors, notwithstanding, simply the character of the person.

I recently wrote a thank you note that hit the nail on the head. It contained one simple sentence “Thank you for helping me see myself again.” I remember when I wrote it I stared at it for like an hour, wondering about the motivation to write it. Not the actual words, for they are truth, but rather the motivation of letting the other person know they had helped me in this manner. That simple sentence really put me out there, and I questioned my motivation in telling that truth. What result did I want? And I realized, I didn’t want anything. That sentence is exactly what it is, simple yet deeply significant – to me. Significant enough to share.

After so many years of trying so desperately to live up to other people’s expectations of me, thinking I was doing the right things, under the right motivations, I had finally been able to admit I had slowly been dying inside. That person had been hiding and it took a few central people to just look at me for who I am and lure it out of me. Now that I’m not a living dichotomy (the external me vs the internal me), my questions flip to whether or not I can give people the chance to live with someone who’s trying very hard to lift masks grown so natural that they don’t even realize that they’re wearing them.

There is a simplicity in a relationship where someone takes one look at you and those masks dissolve. I am truly grateful for those moments, because I suddenly remember what it is like to feel like myself again, to be myself again. Those moments push me to accept the good, bad, crazy and emotional, to work on fixing broken things, and build healthier behaviors, rather than adding bricks to those walls that I worked so hard to box myself in with.

In the end, other’s perceptions will always exist. They will try to diagnose you. They will put you into tiny, little boxes with no breathing room. No one can get into your mind and your heart and see what your eyes see when you look at the world. However, you can learn to say “No, stop,” and stop letting those perceptions define you. I’m a great proponent of not entering into discussions that I see are pointless. Sometimes, people’s worldviews so strongly color their interpretation of what is being said, that they won’t even begin to hear what you’re saying, let alone understand it.

Some people see all of this as a struggle to save face. For the record, if saving face was my priority, I would truly be a shallow, selfish person who’d never taken one concrete minute to think about the structure of the world, my place in it and a number of metaphysical factors that I struggle to define and occupy my mind; let alone the people I interact, live and build my life with and around.

Saving face should be the least of anyone’s worries. More significant questions are at the forefront of my mind. Are the people around me living lives of fulfillment? Does my involvement aid or hinder that? Can we learn to communicate the way wish to? To listen and to be heard? Does that safe place you hope to build exist? Can we be forgiven for our stupidity, immaturity? What is the sense in life when you hurt someone, while you’re convinced that you’re doing what is in their best interest? Does wisdom really come with age and life experience, or do we continue to perpetuate ridiculous mistakes? Can we truly build a stronger foundation after knocking down everything we’ve ever known?

xo
Iz

Today’s song

Comme des Enfants – Coeur de Pirate

To This Day

20 Feb

As someone who endured years of horrendous bully growing up, I had to share this amazing spoken word animation by Shane Koyczan. I don’t have much to say, because Shane’s words say it all.

Read more about Shane and the project here:

http://www.shanekoyczan.com/?c=upworthy

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

8 Feb

I know myself. I’ve spent the last couple of days playing ‘what if’ mind games with myself, because there are certain words I can’t really choke out. Not if I really care. I was talking with the Brit a few days ago and remarked:You know, I’m consciously aware that I spent most of September and October apologizing to X for being an asshole to ME. That’s just not normal.

There is something that sits deep within me, where I can’t actually allow myself to get pissed off when I comes to interpersonal relationships. No, absolutely everything manifests itself as hurt. I don’t know what it is about saying that I’m hurt, and going through those emotions in that way that makes it easier for me to articulate. Maybe because most people, in my mind, don’t do things to hurt you on purpose; whereas you need to be a colossal asshole or do something generally completely selfish to piss me off, under my usual definition. It’s almost like being pissed off is my ‘corporate’ – work emotion, and being hurt is like my raison d’être internalized from many friendships with the wrong people over my formative years.

It was like I put out a Want Ad:

Spineless idiot seeks out bottom-dweller for general abuse. Looking for someone to make you feel better about your life? Are you an asshole? You’re in luck, I’m looking for the worst friend possible. I’ll take whatever shit you can dish out. Do your homework for you. Buy you gifts for no good reason. And be at your beck and call. I’m very undemanding and generally passive. People with parental/emotional issues welcome. No reciprocity expected.

Overtime all this cumulated into a general inability to express any real want or need I have. And in August. I saw it explode. Years of pent of aggression hit squarely in the face of someone who had no fucking clue what had been going on upstairs or in my heart for years. And it was a mess. It’s still a mess. And it will continue to be mess for a long time. I really don’t know if it’ll ever stop being a mess. It’s easy for me to blame the people involved. But I know the truth. People get away with bloody murder often, because I’m so out of touch with my own needs that I don’t know what I expect until I’m not receiving it for a fairly long time.

Lastly night, I didn’t really sleep. This morning I have this knot of anxiety in my heart that is physically putting pressure on my chest cavity. I’m oscillating – hurt, angry, hurt, angry, depressed, and some emotion I can’t even articulate (let’s call it messed up). In a week where absolutely nothing has gone right, nothing makes sense, I lifted my filter to the ‘slightly uncomfortable’ level and that was probably not a great idea. But you know, I was just on such a roll. Fuck.

You see, I’m trying something new, I’m trying to actually say what I feel (shock) without letting the fear of rejection that I associate so deeply with it get the better of me. Because someone rightly said to me earlier week, if they really are your friends, they’ll understand. You’ll talk it out. I mean, that’s not such a wild expectation on my part. The problem is that for all the issues I have to deal with professionally and personally, I never feel like there is enough of a reason to bother others. Even when I really care, and really want them to be there for me. Especially, when I need them to be there for me. That’s the absolutely fucking worst. Because there, in my mind, will always be something more important, and I can take every action they take or lack thereof as a confirmation of that. Because I’m just adding to their problems, and I can take every conversation, or lack of contact as a confirmation of that. Because every time I finally say something, show my vulnerability, I start freaking the fuck out, and apologize for shit I really shouldn’t be apologizing for. Because don’t I have the god damned right to say what I’m feeling without feeling like the person on the other end is going to turn around and walk away? Because I’m just not worth it, because I never demanded that anyone treat me any other way, for all of the above and below reasons, plus things that will most probably be discussed in future posts.

And although I know it’s utter nonsense, it is the root cause, because it’s how I always feel. And trying to scrape that out of the recesses of my mind, and get rid of it is painful. I’m in so much pain right now.

xo
Iz

Today’s Song

Time Machine – Robyn