Dear Self (#1)

Dear Self,
Today was a good day and here’s why:

You didn't have a panic attack.
You didn't have a bad depressive episode.
The weather was pleasant, and comfortable.
You and your scene partner did well in Acting class.
You spent some time with a good friend.
You did well in Drawing, and were given praise for it.
You had good interactions with people.
You were open about yourself.
You ate meals.
And you did well in remembering that these things matter to you and therefore they matter.
~ Fondly For The Possibly First Time, Your Self

Floating Away

I’ve spent a lot of time recently, feeling like I’m barely holding myself together. I feel as though my mind is trying to float away from my body, leaving it with only the basic functions. And then while I’m in that helpless state, people need to ask me questions, and I have to complete tasks… but because I’m not all there, I feel that I’m rather inadequate.  

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To Read And Relate

"It's so weird, to know you're crazy and not be able to do anything about it, you know? It's not like you believe yourself to be normal. You know there is a problem. But you can't figure a way through to fixing it." ~ Turtles All The Way Down 

Words are powerful. Language is incredible.

We have it so that we can communicate with one another, and we can share thoughts, feelings, and experiences. And sometimes, when you share, someone else will hear/read and in so doing they discover something in common. And as mostly social creatures, humans like to find the 'shared' the 'commonalities' and the 'same here-s'. We don't like to feel alone.

I feel alone more often than not. And that can get very difficult to deal with. So when I find something - real or fiction - that I can relate to, I get flooded with feelings of gratitude; knowing someone understands. And right now, I relate to the main character Aza from John Green's latest book "Turtles All The Way Down"

I'm still reading the book, I haven't reached the ending, but so far, the book is amazing in how much of me I found in Aza. Her struggles are much like mine, and her thoughts are ones I've had. I relate to her so much that it hurts. And to be honest, I've been slow in reading it, because sometimes the panic she feels reaches me and I can't keep reading. But that's okay. It means that I'm not alone. And I am extremely grateful to John Green. "Turtles" is a book that has become very special to me, and I think it always will be.

I highly recommend it to anyone with mental health issues, because it's helping me, and I hope it would help you too.

Feel Numb

If you fight to live with depression, you know how it is. Hours, days, or weeks when you don't feel, or everything is so numb that you just don't register emotions.
It's difficult to carry on on days like that. But for me, I force myself to keep going anyway, because of my anxiety telling me that if I don't, I'll be letting everyone down.

Numbdays are a sludge to move through, and that's how I feel right now actually. I can hardly type this, because my mind isn't processing sentences quickly enough, and i'm forgetting how to spell. And I don't have the drive to say anything, or to work, or do anything at all. It's like being a mold for a concrete made of boredom. I just sit frozen, staring off into space, the only movement is my breathing and an occasional twitch in my neck or knee. My hands feel too heavy to lift, and if my mind is working at all then it's a prisoner screaming at the guard. Days like this, I don't even eat or drink. My stomach could be rumbling loud enough for everyone to hear, but it doesn't move me. The ringing in my ears will climb higher and higher in volume, but I won't turn on music to drown it out.

I just sit, in pain and apathy.

I honestly don't know how I'm managing to write at all right now. it's more than I usually am capable of.

I've been browsing Netflix for something but selecting nothing, looking up comics I used to read but ignoring them as soon as they are found, looking through the games I have but not feeling able to rise to the challenge that I've always craved.

I close my eyes for a moment and already cannot open them again. I feel my head slump forward so slowly that a snail would be bored, until my chin hits my chest. I'm uncomfortable but can't shake myself back into the world of the living.

What Makes You Passionate

Do you ever just get excited over something? The kind of excited where you can't be quiet and you want to jump up and down and wave your arms and scream incoherently? If so, good! That's awesome!
Is it something crazy? Popular? Everyday? Unusual? Silly?

Well today I'm going to mention something that makes me crazy enthusiastic

CHAIRS.

when used in theatre or dance, chairs can be surprisingly powerful and versatile

from the angle at which they sit, to the way you sit on them,

whether it's one solitary chair, or a whole lot of them

if they match or not, what color(s) they are, do they have cushions, are they covered

wood, metal, plastic

if they are in a line, or a circle

if they are even upright, if they are hung from the ceiling, or have a broken leg

each thing has a different feel, a different atmosphere, or vibe

you can move them around, stand on them, hold them over your head, trip on them, jump over them

stack them, break them, fold them, spin them, 

there are so many ways to use a chair. and that excites me a lot.

They are used in Hamilton, and Come From Away, and they way they are used is beautiful

Four years ago, I never would have guessed that I'd be PASSIONATE about chairs. But here I am. And I'm never going back. 

Things I'm Grateful For

Don't get worked up, I know that Thanksgiving has passed already! ;)

But the thing is, Thanksgiving has always been a bit weird for me. Most people take the day to focus on being grateful of things they take for granted... but growing up poor, abused, and isolated, gives you a higher appreciation for everything good, and you don't tend to take things for granted. So... I've always kinda thought that it was weird for people to spend ONE DAY a year being ultra grateful.

But! That being said, I do sometimes just want to list some things that are good in my life. And here it is:

British accents - all of them (I find them calming and/or moodlifting)

Theatre

Musicals

Costumes (I think it's really cool that it's acceptable to dress up as almost anything)

Domesticated Cats (seriously. they make life so much better)

Decent Internet Speed

Good Coffee

CATS

Red-heads (so gorgeous) 

Books About Cats

Freckles (I love freckled faces!)

Art In All It's Glorious Forms

Books That Feature Cats

Friends That Let Me Borrow Their Book That Features Cats (thx Margaret!) 

Good SciFi

Little Siblings That Love To Give Hugs

A Math Teacher That Cares About Her Students' Mental Health

Chocolate

The Moments When Your Cat Chooses To Curl Up At Your Feet While You're Drinking Good Coffee And Writing A Blog Post Thanks To Good Internet

Thanks for stopping by! I'm hoping to post more often again. But we'll see. 

The Best/Worst Part Of Being Human

You know the best/worst thing that exists in a human? Emotions. Pure and simple. Scratch that, there's nothing simple and very rarely pure about them...

But I'm more specifically talking about empathy - the ability to feel what someone else is feeling - and caring - when someone else's experiences have an emotional impact on you even though they may not have any "practical" effect. These are what may be affected when you watch a movie or read a book. For instance, if you cried at key moments of 'The Lion King', 'Old Yeller', 'The Fox and the Hound', or 'Big Hero 6'.

Me... I cry a lot. I cry a lot more when it comes to fictional worlds, than my own. But why is that? Why is it that almost every episode of 'Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D', or nearly any song from 'Hamilton' or 'Dear Evan Hansen' will cause tears, but I struggle to consistently feel real emotion when it comes to big events in my own life? 

Although, if I'm depressed enough, it will keep me from feeling anything for the characters that I love.

Being human is such a mixed bag.

Yes we have emotions! 

But...

We have, emotions. 

And sometimes... a lot of times... I hate that about us...

But other times... I get high off of them. Joy... and pain. And as many addictions go... I don't want to give it up. 

But here's the catch: I'm only addicted to pain, if it's someone else's. I will soak up the hurt of anyone I care about, real or fictional, until I am literally overflowing. And I will keep coming back for more, even though I physically ache, my face is stained with the salty tears, my nose is dripping, and my eyes sting. Even though I cannot suffer it quietly, and often bury my face in a pillow to muffle the cries. I will always come back to partake in whatever emotions they have. 

However... if it's my own pain... I will avoid it, hide from it, mask it... anything that I can to forget about it - and it's become so normal that I feel wrong if it's not there in the shadows - or I will allow a part of myself to take over... a part that I don't like showing to people... a piece that doesn't have emotions... unless curiosity counts. And I only let him have control when I am in so much pain that I can no longer function. Because when that's the case, I am always alone. If I let him out when I'm with others... then I don't really know what he'd I'd do. He's manipulative... a man of science and learning... with a much smaller conscience, and a much better poker face. But enough about him. 

When I get invested in something or someone... I tend to do so wholeheartedly. And that makes it hard sometimes... because I get stretched thin. Between this life, and the fictional worlds that I love, I have a hell of a lot to care about, and it gets to be too much every once in a while, but I don't mind.

In conclusion.

Don't make a super intelligent A.I. that will eventually become envious of human's ability to feel. 

The Cruelest of Muses

I am staring at a blank page, the words that had so fervently brought themselves to me have now fled, perhaps in sudden fear of being judged, or maybe they just love to torment me. 

As a writer, this is no marvel but rather something that is quite ordinary and expected. I no longer ask why, only that they  visit again, in hopes that I might tame the wild thoughts and phrases that run rampant in my mind. 

It can be a beautiful thing when they choose to stay by my side, hovering over the keyboard or paper, watching as I bring them from myself into a world that others can also experience. And that is all I ask of them. Let me create an experience. It need not be amazing, or joyous, or uplifting, but simply be. 

I want to make a mark of some kind on the heart, mind, or soul of the one who reads my words. But there are many days when I feel that it is too much to hope for, and that these words of mine will simply go in the eyes and leave the mind in the very next breath, to pass into oblivion and be forgot forever.

And maybe that is, and will always be the case, but until it can be proven, I shall continue to write, with the cruelest of muses before me: 

Hope.

Until next time.

Yours ever, 

           Kayla Rose.

Something Good

Today I got extremely excited over something that I haven't been excited over in a long time... food.

Now I'm guessing that you'll be thinking one of two things: 

1. Why is she excited about food?

or

2. Why isn't she always excited about food?

And well...

I have been struggling with eating enough for about a year now... before that, I could out eat some of my brothers... so the sudden switch has been hard on me both physically and emotionally. I have some wonderful friends that remind me to eat, and to take care of myself, but that doesn't stop the problem. I still mostly only eat once a day, and that one meal usually can't even classify as that. And it's not that I'm not hungry... in fact I'm frequently hungry... I just either don't notice, am too busy to do anything about it, or choose to ignore it. 

Now today mostly consisted of laying in bed and binge watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. But at 7:30 pm, I suddenly became hungry, and I mean really hungry. So I went to the kitchen and put together the biggest meal that I've made myself in a year: a sandwich using every type of sandwich making that we have, a large muffin, a glass of nestle iced tea, and another glass of earl grey tea. 

I was prancing like Titus Andromedon, and grinning like Kimmy. 

I was so genuinely happy, that I cleared off my desk, and set it with a bed-sheet for a tablecloth and a mug with flower-pens for a centerpiece. And I was reminded of the things I used to do that would make me this happy on a regular basis. Like dressing up, having tea parties, drinking hot tea, and reading all the time. 

Now I know that this one moment isn't going to completely fix me. But maybe it will help... 

Thank you for listening.

P.S. Now I'm about to go eat Ice Cream!

Flowers on a Suit

A poetry piece for you today! Written just now, in response to the actually good day that I had. 

Flowers on a Suit

Chiropractor visit

For the pain in your back

From the injury you had

While doing what you love

A good talk with your therapist 

About your mental health

As you play with watercolors

To calm down and relax

Silk flowers on a suit jacket

That you put there yourself

Applied with a hot glue gun

And arranged randomly

Chilling with your friends

All sitting in one room

Playing video games

And talking about everything

Now at home again

You and your date-mate call

Each doing your own thing

Together at a distance

A good day indeed it was

Happy and relaxing

Productive and rewarding

And as bright as flowers on a suit

~ Kayla