A Casual Romance

One of my teachers once said, that couples go through the "relationship" stage and then reach "best friend" stage. And I thought how great it would be to just skip the "relationship" part entirely.

Why can't I just fall in love with someone and they fall in love with me and we skip to the best part? I want to cuddle with them, play with their hair, and to fall asleep in each other's arms because we stayed up late talking about life, love, and the universe. I want to slow dance with them, and drink hot chocolate together, and watch the stars. I want to sit side by side and binge our favorite shows, I want to smile at the thought of them, and them to smile at the thought of me. I want to hold hands as we stroll through a park, and I want to have water gun fights, and make meals together, and tease each other. I want to see them nerd out over their favorite things, and to do the same in front of them, I want to see their eyes light up with passion over the phrasing of a sentence in a book, or the fan art they just found, I want to hold them as we deal with the death of fictional characters, and I want to see them grin with joy when their otp becomes canon. I want to play video games and board games and card games with them. I want to surprise them with chocolates, theatre tickets, and fuzzy socks.

Just to fall in love, without it being weird or awkward. To know how you feel about one another, without any guesswork or tiptoeing. Where you both can be who you are without judgement or fear. I want a love that's comfortable, that is never forced or fake, if they don't want a kiss or to cuddle or to watch something with me, I need them to know that they are free to say no. I want life to pass with the two of us side-by-side and us still happy together.

[found on pinterest]

also found on pinterest

I want my true love, to be like my best friend.

My Biggest Lie

I try to be an honest and truthful person. I really do. But there is one lie that always slips through.

"I'm doing well!"

"Things are great!"

"Life is good right now!"

"Better than ever!"

"I'm feeling good today!"

This is probably the deadliest lie I've told, but still it says it's self before I even think, it rearranges it's letters to seamlessly fit each conversation, and I never take it back... I just let the lie ride, because I'm more comfortable doing that than saying "No, actually, I'm not fine, it's just that I'd conditioned myself to say so whenever I was asked, so that no one would ever find out how bad things really were,"

Why is this lie so harmful?

Because it's telling yourself that how you're feeling doesn't really matter, that no one cares anyway, that it's not valid. It's a lie that tears you down, and keeps you locked inside yourself.

I'm an introverted person with a huge, vivid, and rampant, imagination, so I spend a lot of time in my head. And it's fun, it's what I had as a child in order to get through life, but sometimes now it is a nightmare that I can't escape, because of how I view myself, those views bleed through into my imaginary life because I hold all my pain and trouble inside and rarely let it see the light of other people's sight.

I have a terrible urge to shout my past and present hurts from the flat roof of the place that is practically my home, from the sloping roof of the place I live, from the top of the suspension bridge, from the highest rung of the ladder on the water-tower.

And yet. 

I still hide it. 

I still show everyone my happy side

And rarely reveal the darkness

Because that's what I've always done. Smile and wave, but never falter.

I really relate to Elsa from Disney's Frozen. She had a secret which she hid her whole life "Conceal, don't feel. Put on a show. Make one wrong move and everyone will know," but once her secret was out she felt free. 'Let it go, let it go, that perfect girl is gone," But then she again was afraid of herself, "Just stay away and you'll be safe from me," afraid that she would hurt people and get hurt again, she is now her own worst enemy "No escape from the storm inside of me," And I really connect to that.

And so there is this battle within myself, of hiding and declaring the truth. And for the moment, look which has won.

My Little Sister

Sometimes in life you discover something that takes a special place in your heart. I have found a great many things, but that doesn't make any of them less precious. Today I am talking about: hugging my little sister.

She and I were in Sweeney Todd together!

My little sister is very capable of being annoying - as younger siblings are - but so is most of the human race, so I don't really fault her for that. And on the other hand, she is generous, loving, gentle, and intelligent. She will greet you with big hugs, share her chocolates, miss you when you're gone, form her own opinions, pray for everyone to sleep well, and do her share of the housework. She is probably the most mature seven-year-old I know.

She loves animals, anime, games, and villains. And her family, especially our mom.

I don't have a lot of free time, and when I do I usually spend it alone in my room. So I have kinda missed seeing my little baby sister - and other siblings - growing up this year.

And the last couple days I got to cuddle with her, and it was wonderful. We sat side-by-side, she played her games and listened to her music, and I browsed pinterest and wrote a blog post. We didn't talk much, but it was still great bonding time.

Today she was 'teaching' me and one of our brothers, 'how to create a dance move'

I love her, and while I'd love for her to stay a little girl, I can't wait to see who she'll become.

An Inner Darkness

My brain has this function where I can see both sides of an argument/thought/idea/ and see the outcomes, for the most part. And while normally I think this would be a good thing, it also effects me when I'm depressed and trying to tell myself things to make me feel better. The problem is that I can have full hypothetical scenarios play out in my head, and while I can see both good and bad, the thing with depression is that the bad usually wins. Today for example: I was relaxing, everything was great, but then I got into a what-if. I was scrolling Pinterest and came across a post about how others are effected by the self-harm and suicide of their loved ones. The purpose of the post was to help us that are in the struggle, by giving us another reason to not self-harm, and to live. But for me, it didn't do that. Instead it spawned a hypothetical scene, where I attempted suicide by jumping off a bridge and was rescued and hospitalized; after messaging a friend to let them know that was I planning it. The me in that made-up situation decided it would be better for them to know - and have them spread the word - instead of me just going missing. While the hospital scenes played out, with people asking why, and trying to convince me to live, saying how much it would hurt everyone, how much I mean, that people need me, I fought back by saying that I don't mean that much, that everyone will be able to move on just fine, that everything would be better off without me, that they'll find someone else that's better than me.

Last week or so, I found an empty box in my room, I grabbed a pencil and wrote on the lid "A Box of Reasons." I then got some paper, and wrote down reasons to live. Most of them are the names of my friends. Some are shows that I'm watching. Some are sweet things that my friends have said. Some are goals of mine. And things I love. My plan was that anytime I am depressed, I can pull out some of those strips of paper and find the courage, find a reason to keep going. But my plan has a flaw. Because while it did give me joy and encouragement, it also gave me thoughts like: "they're wrong about you" "they'd be better off without you" "you won't amount to anything" "you're not good enough for that" "you don't work hard enough for you to actually love doing that" "you're wrong about that" "you can't even make it through a day, how are you going to have a life?"

I am my own worst saboteur. No one hurts me more than me. One reason I don't like being alone is that if I give my brain an inch it will destroy me.

I'm not writing this asking for sympathy. I'm asking for you to understand. Life isn't easy, even when you don't have a mental illness, and life with one can feel downright impossible. So please don't look down on us, or think we are just like you, don't call us liars, don't think that we are just begging for attention.

For some of us, that attention is all that's keeping us away from the edge. Don't assume that because someone smiles a lot and works hard and laughs loud, that they are fine.

Most people think that I am a laid back, happy-go-lucky, without a care in the world, sunshine rainbows and unicorns, kind of girl. But I'm not. This week I choreographed part of a modern dance piece, and showed it to my dance teacher and classmates. I turned off most of the lights, and had no music. It was a dark piece, inspired by the trauma and hardships I've gone through, and how it has left me terrified that it will all repeat again. In the piece I fell a lot (my knees still hurt), and my hair was down and in my face, and I punched the floor and flailed around, my glasses fell off, I ran around, and silently sobbed, and shook, and just when I seemed to be able to stand, I dropped to my knees again, put my head in my hands on the floor, and screamed. I think I made everyone uncomfortable. Because I showed them my inner darkness, when all they had known was a happy girl with a passion for theatre. After I performed that little piece of a dance, I was shaking, my anxiety habit of playing with my hands kicked in, I felt out of breath, and my voice trembled. I forced them all to see a dark and hurting person who was left screaming on the floor. And I forced myself to show it to them. And I felt relieved. After all, it's exhausting to wear a mask 24/7, of a persona so very different from how you truly feel.

Does this mean I'm never happy? No. I often feel happiness, especially when I'm with my friends, or performing in a show. Does this mean that I want to be coddled and have everyone constantly praising me? Hell No. I don't want special treatment, or for people to be extra gentle around me. In fact I want you to be brutally yourself, and speak to and around me with perfect candor. I just want you to be aware of my truth.

I have Depression. I have Anxiety. I have PTSD. They don't own me - though they sometimes take over. But they are a part of me, and now you know.