It has to be an unwritten law in the universe—the night before an eventful weekend, you just have to break out or get sick. In my case, I was puking and my head was spinning like a wayward top. Lovely.
In any case, I was able to rally enough to get out and join in on the adventures. How do they put it—come hell or high water, right?
Fall in the Pacific Northwest is gorgeous.
We were treated to the most stunning sunset. This photo was taken with an iPhone with no filters or editing applied.
Girls girls girls.
Sunday we attended a concert and got lucky enough to be able to meet (and in my case, hug) the singers!
All in all it was a successful weekend, I think.
I’m not a good person. When I look at all the brilliant, kind, warm, and caring individuals that I have run across on this platform, I realize how much work I still need to do on myself. I do realize that online and in real life, we tend to display a specific persona that we want people to perceive, and it’s more prevalent online, but I feel that there are some genuinely sweet people on here that go way above what I am willing to do. And it makes me envy them. Not in a bad way, because I know that I can continue to persevere and I can get there too, but it doesn’t come natural to me. I have to work at it. I consistently work on kindness and grace because I need so much of that bestowed on me too.
I was not a nice person growing up. It actually wasn’t until I entered into the darkest years of my life that I learned how to be kind to people. If I hadn’t had my heart absolutely shredded and my beliefs challenged to near extinction, I don’t believe I’d ever have changed the way I was. I enjoyed my lifestyle too much and I loved being elitist. What I mean by that is that I was incredibly picky with who I allowed into my most inner circle, and it meant that I had many acquaintances but only a very very few close friends. On top of that, I was incredibly smug about it too—until the people I adored with all of my heart failed me and I was left with no one. Over the years I was forced to learn how to let people in and not keep myself closed off because my status quo to meeting new people was to not like them. By default, you can’t really get far with that kind of attitude.
As for my blog—my interactions to everyone I have met on this platform have all been genuine, so to whoever is reading this, please don’t mistake my past behavior with my current self. Although I am still under construction, I will admit that I’ve come an incredibly long way from where I was. I read a quote once that said, “It is okay to be a masterpiece and a work-in-progress at the same time” and I don’t think it could be said any better than that.
This poem was inspired by Sabrina Benaim’s “Explaining My Depression to My Mother.” all I had to do was to leave the car, but my hands froze,and my heart beat faster and fasteruntil terror rose above melike a boat facing a threatening wave until the wave capsized the boat,and my breath stuck in my chest […]
via Social Anxiety — An Alien at Sea
Sometimes it’s just easier not to share things with people who are committed to misunderstanding you. I read a quote once that read, “I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand from their level of perception.”
One of the most bizarre experiences I had dealing with depression is when I had to explain to a close acquaintance of mine why I was unable to attend an event with her one evening. I told her my monsters were incredibly fierce that day and I didn’t have it in me to be brave and face anyone else. Her response was, “Oh man, you’re still depressed?!”
How do you explain brokenness to someone who has never experienced it for themselves? It’s like trying to explain the color blue to someone who has been blind all their life. Inevitably, there comes a point where you just stop trying to make people understand.
I’ve finally stopped being incredibly envious of other peoples lives. No, not even that, it goes deeper than that. It’s as if the ability to care so desperately has been plucked out by its very roots and I’m left with this beautiful paradox of looking into the window of a life that boasts everything that I do not have, and I feel incredible warmth and joy for that life.
Without the slightest hint of envy.
Even though I crave all of that which I am gazing upon and I am still on the outside looking in.
It fills my heart with joy to realize that another persons happiness and well-being are not the cause of my bitter envy and urge to compete. To want even better than that. To always have the upper hand. The last word. The last laugh.
Another’s joy fills me with joy.
This catches me by surprise.
I am content to sit back and to sink into the wonderful knowledge that soon my turn will come as well, soon my heart will be full to bursting and I will never have to compete with anyone ever again. Not even myself. And believing this means already enjoying the fullness that flows into my heart and spills out into my soul.
Invisible in a world full of molds,
We search desperately for someone who will see us–
Beneath the masks, beneath the facades, beneath the uncertain smile.
Will today be the day that someone will finally take notice of me?
Hear my words, look into my soul,
Acknowledge the small flame of my existence?
Will you be the one to stop by for a moment,
And warm your hands briefly by my fire?
To let me know that for a moment in time,
I was not alone in a world full of molds.
To wrestle with God
is to prevail in the face of adversity.
It’s to have hope when there is none.
To keep striding forward
when all you want to do is lay your weary soul to rest.
To wrestle with God
is to battle your very self