All the questions

I have discovered that once you ask yourself the hard questions, then life gets just a little bit…Harder. Yes. There is a reason you avoided the questions that suck and allow the anxiety to engulf you like salty water waves. It’s not all bad though. After the crying, sitting in a corner rocking back and forth and the appointment to the doctor for anxiety medication, that you will cancel the day off. It all starts to get clearer. Yes, I didn’t say easier. When you are dealing with anxiety, things don’t get “easier” they just stop being so hard. I know that sounds stupid but to say it gets easier, feels like saying it stops being an issue and it becomes effortless. And perhaps somethings do. But some things don’t and measuring things as hard or easy, feels like I’m am setting myself up for a failure. So, I say it gets less hard. And one day, it doesn’t feature as an issue at all (fingers crossed). But you have to ask the question. The question of what you really want to do with your life. No, not that panic of “what I am I doing with my life” that comes with tearful bouts of panic attacks when you run into an old friend or in the middle of the night. No, the question where you are forced to be honest. Do I even what this job? Is he really the one? Do I even want to move the other side of the country? What do I want to achieve?
My anxiety has had me living in what-ifs my whole life. But not just worse case what ifs. But the ones that come with regrets and comparisons and probably involved an evening of FB stalking or worse Instagram. The “what if I took that job”. The “what if I wasn’t afraid to talk to him”, or” what if I didn’t spend the month hiding at home and instead went travelling overseas teaching English”. That “what if my life could have been big and brighter”. But see the thing with the anxious mind and this exercise, is I get so caught up in this imaginary possible person I could have been or that I’m might be standing in the way of becoming. But do I even want to teach English? Was he even my type or just a pretty face? And often the answer is no. So, I’m exhausting myself on things I actually wouldn’t care about if not for my compulsive thinking. But on the flip side. If the answer is yes. Then I can work on a next step to achieve that. If I did want to teach English, then what aspect of myself or my anxiety is in my way? How am I going to get over that? And even if it takes two years, at least I have an honest clear direction and I can get help in achieving it. In breaking it down into doable functioning pieces.
I am by no means good at any of this yet. I still get stuck at the questions. But I’m starting to ask them and get through the preceding panic. And that is something. It’s a full mile further than I was before. And some days I backtrack to thoughts of what if. I know I don’t care about my high school crush and am clear on how incompatible we would have been, lol. But in moments of depressive nights or anxious moments, in my single-failed-at-loves-state, I think, “no one would ever love me as much as he could have loved me if only I was braver and cooler and less weird and emo”. Which feels like a really true observation, and at the same time is greatly inaccurate. (yikes I hope). It’s truly unproductive.
So, I am challenging myself to try and ask myself the hard questions and get brave enough to face the answer. For now, the brave question involves what I want to do with my career. Or at least how am I going to get paid. If that’s not anxiety causing I don’t know what is. One thing is for sure, I’m going to need to go back to therapy in order to face. eish.

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I am doing good.

I don’t quite know what I’m meant to be writing. I have too many questions about life now, that my anticipation for the answer and it’s need to be right, good, and perfect, seems to be preventing me not only from moving from the spot from where I stand, but from saying the things I really want to say. How important is it that you say the right thing? That every decision amounts to something clean and perfect. Why am I so convinced that what I want to do with my life is so wrong?

When someone asks me for advice about love or life, I always say: “do what feels right and natural to you. Do what you know will make YOU happy”. and I watch them smile and light up as they realize what they really want. And even if they go the other direction they feel happy for a second in knowing what they want and how happy will feel. But when I try to follow my own advice I seem to have a reverse reaction. I seem to hit a moment of sadness and annoyances. It’s as if I don’t believe I deserve my own happiness. In away I’m scared to imagine what I want for my future. I can’t seem to figure out how I want it to look. I know what I want. I know who I want. But I can’t seem to put the pieces together without freaking out. 3

But do deserve happiness and abundance. And I do on some level believe this. But my mind has just spent so many years feeling like I lack everything I need. It’s hard to now look at it all and say I’m full of everything I need. That mental change doesn’t just happen overnight. But I’m going to keep working on it.

On a more positive note, I seem to have gotten a hold of the anxiety aspects of my life. This feels good. Not being tied to the role of the victim of my own thoughts. Yes, my mind still throws a spanner in the works of my plans every now and then, but at least I’m no longer freaking out every day. In fact, I haven’t really had a night session tear fest in a while. So, I’m taking the win.

I don’t quite know what I want to tell you in this post. But I just felt like I needed to write it. Maybe just for myself. So, I can have this conversation with me. An outward experience to my inner turmoil. For the first time, I’m feeling good and happy. Things haven’t completely worked themselves out yet and I’m still in the process of life. But I’m not being a false positive about the outcome. I’m just happy and hopeful. I am starting to be clearer about what I want and what I need. This is new for me. For some people courage means jumping off bridges, for other it is saying something to someone, but for me right now, being brave and courageous is facing myself and the truth of who I really want. Its admitting to myself that it is love, that I do want to move and that that is the job I want. And now with that knowledge I can work on the next step of being braving, which will be going after all those things and expressing them to other people. The steps of healing I guess.

I haven’t been posting much of my poetry or any prose on this site lately, but I have been starting to write in journals more which is a big deal for me. I’m constantly going through moments of feeling like I’m no good at writing. So, it blocks creativity I guess, and then I supress emotions and the circle continues. But I’m getting back into the swing of things. I really think I’m starting to feel the process of healing my life coming through now. It’s taken a long time to get here, but I feel like I’m here. On the shore of the ocean of all I am. And healing comes in waves, and I’m beginning to learn how to ride them.  And I’m not going to put pressure on myself to do this perfectly, just going to focus on doing what feels right for me.

It feels good to ramble a bit about how I’m feeling. these pieces make me feel heard, even if it’s just by myself. Often, it’s me who needs to read it the most.

Disillusioned hope

In the moment you hear the words coming out your mouth
A realisation comes over of just how full of shit we all are convincing ourselves that we have a handle on the meaning of life

As if our soothing and deep breathing will save us from the nights we fall asleep  crying and the overwhelming feeling that tomorrow won’t get any better
All the wisdom doesn’t make life easier
We’ve just gotten better at shutting off the parts of ourselves that feel pain
Drugs come in all forms
We injest things to quickly

I will not shadow your greatness

I refuse to fall in love with you
if it means I must
crack myself open to fill rivers
so that your beauty is reflected in its stillness
and the world will look to you as something of magic
for the sympathy, you show to my broken soul

I will not be found pinning by open windows for you
like an older lover waiting for a soldier at war
hoping his heart did not find someone new to keep him warm
praying his new scars need me to clean, to nurse,
as if I am a hollow home waiting for you to return to me
after you have conquered worlds and got bored of the new riches

I’m not a soft thing
I’m all sharp edges
I won’t sit with knives dulling my corner
so that you won’t fear bleeding
hoping that you would be brave enough to approach me

I don’t need you to light up my life
I am my own star reflected against my night
This darkness you see is mine
It is deep and harsh and caused by years of burning, lighting fighting
I am a flame.
Unforgiving and wild
I’ve burnt bridge and cities before you
I fear no promise of rain

Do not stand there and think that I am waiting for you
that I am in need your saving
I am a castle on my own
Strong, cold , colossal and beautiful against the sky
I have no interest in your company if are expecting less
townhouses and suburbs
I am not a flat in the city
I am the city
Do not hold me if you won’t take me as whole
I refuse to love anything less than volcanoes

Moving forward

There is strange feeling that comes over you
when you watch the past version of yourself burn in the flames,
It resembles a warm hug,
Almost as if every unrequited moment or tear shed
has finally surpassed the need for closure,
You are watching your limitations combust
and you are finally feeling like who you wanted to be.

Its like surfing a volcano
The moment you say
“No one can hold me back”

Goodbye is common

I’m always saying goodbyes
but I’m standing still,
My life is me pushing my soul
like a boulder up a hill.

You’ve told me to be brave
To pave my own way,
You’ve asked me whats been forcing me to stay,
because you can’t feel the tide in which i’m drowning away
Or see these glass walls enclosing me in a cave.

Yes I’m weaker,
I fall to peices every time you return
I’ve been carving myself out of this skin hoping to run away
But fear keep calling me by name
It’s checks up on me
It’s sees if I’m okay
It’s become my closet friend

I’ve only learnt to say goodbye
No instructions on how to leave
You stand shouting  my fear is unreal,
Then when you leave you forget about me.

Atleast fear is left to hold me
the sound of the tide lulls me to sleep
I’m home in this cave.

In the echoes of every title

i think i put you into art from the moment we met
You’re the accumulation of puzzle pieces i’ve been finding everywhere i went
You are the maths problem with a solution i can’t get
The person i am always returning to
always trying to run from,

i have never known who you are to me
Or what I want you to be
or what you thinking when you speak of “we”

But i’ve needed you to be close
You are every line of poetry i’ve written
And every song i’ve sung

i didn’t know this then
i couldn’t love anything then
But in the echoes of every title i find your name.