Take my hand.

I want to be courted.
I want to fall in love again.
I want a story, an adventure.
I want to feel the Earth sway under my feet.
Maybe I've read too much,
Maybe I have too high expectations.
I want challenges and bravery and surprises.
I want to feel my heart beat hard in my chest.
I want butterflies down in my belly,
Electricity running from the sole of my feet to the tips of my fingers.
I want the rush of adrenaline,
My ribcage caving in from the pressure,
I want my breath to be taken away
I want to be taken away.
Let's kill dragons together,
Climb mount Everest,
Ride horses through empty plains,
Jump of a cliff into the ocean,
Go out and look at the stars
Wake up to watch the sunrise.

What makes you proud

I've been consuming a lot of content recently. It had been a while. Getting that passionate about things, getting my whole little universe submerged in something.
I can sound pretty mundane, but for the eco system that lives in my head, this is always a major event. Doesn't happen often. I can be touched by a book or a movie, and like it and be inspired by it, but sometimes it will be different, like a stain glass that would completely change the colours and the perspetive inside me. It will change how I divide my attention between things, how I look at the world around me and it will definitely change what I create.

I haven't created much this year so far. But I have done other things. Going to the gym, trying to see some friends, feeding some good work habits, thinking about different art endeavours that I want to explore.
According to my own standards, this doesn't amount to much and yet, it makes a big difference.
I feel more at peace with what I do. It feels less like a fleeing race and more like an exhilarating race forward.

I realized that I want to build things. I want to create.
I want to see things and experience the world to feed my inner world.
I am proud of the skills I develop and hone and I realize that the only one standing between me and what I want to do, who I want to be, is me.
I guess it took me a while to figure myself out.
It took time. To weave together all the pieces, all the different lives together. To reconcile the fire inside and all the scared tissues, all the experiences, good and bad. The things I want to be when I grow up and the things I thought I ought to be and to do.
I was sold that good virtues make people happier.
It cost me a lot to learn that it doesn't mean that I must sacrifice myself to have value to others.

I was standing by the kitchen window recently, smoking. It doesn't happen much these days. Almost never, to be fair. A vice I thought I would never shed away and yet.
I was standing there, looking at the way the light plays on the city, black, purple and blueish against the golden sky. And it dawned on me that I had turned 28.
I am very fine with that fact. No existencial crisis (I guess, I've been having an existencial crisis for as far as I can remember. I wish it were a pun, but nope). It's just that... I had never actually projected myself so far.
I was there, standing in my own flat, away from the desk on which I had papers to grade, for work.
I was standing there and thought about someone I don't think about very often anymore. I had said I would never forget him and yet, he drifts away.
And I remembered our promise. One made so long ago some of the kids I teach weren't even born yet. That's scary.
I hadn't forgotten about this promise, it was just somewhere in my brain, far away. And there, looking at the sunset I realized that I have actually survived. Against all odds. when we struck that pact I guess none of us actually believed we'd make it. He didn't. But I did.
I survived my family. I even managed to go back to them. We're okay now I think.
I survived school. And actually enjoyed University. So much that I can't even imagine myself not studying something anymore.
I survived the life we had together and everything I did after he left.
I survived pain, and depression and assault.
And there I was, standing, alive.
I. have. survived.
I don't exactly have a plan, but I have a list. I know that there I stuff I want to do and I very much intend on doing as may things as possible with whatever time I have.

On my own

I cannot resent anyone for me not doing anything. I only have myself to blame.
I want to do things but I was reluctant to go out alone, to go on adventures alone.
And I had a pretty definite idea of who should come with me. But I guess that it's a bit unfair. Everyone should be allowed to do whatever they want to do with their free time.
So I am going to be a little more flexible about the company I keep.
Go alone,
Just offer plans and we'll see who comes.
If nobody comes, then I'll go alone.
I am fine with that.
I can rely on myself. I'm resourceful. I don't much like my own company but I guess I can learn to live with myself.

Fair Warning

I always aspired to be strong.
I think I am.
At least I am strong enough.

Don't worry, I'll deal with it.
I can take shoulder my own load.
It won't even show.

Words that stick

It's no news that I don't really understand how people perceive me. I've known that for a very long time. Friends have told me that at first I seem very distant, haughty or even unpleasant. My former boss told me the same once.
I have the reputation of being scary and harsh.
I am fine with all of this. Being an introvert and rather shy, I am a bit distant with people I don't know.

I lack patience and indulgence, especially when I am tired.
I try not to take it on anyone but apparently not well enough. Or so I understood.

Apparently I scared my friends into submissions during a dnd game.

Was it my general demeanor? Was it just my acting (my character can be an arse with 0 patience)? Was it something else?

The hell if I know.

I played my character. who did get fed up by other characters bullshit. I, the player, was tired and had been annoyed from not be able to say anything.

All I know is that when I came back with a friend at the flat on the next day I got caught into an unexpected lecture of how I should pay more attention to others and how I scared everyone and may or may not have ruined the game.

It was mentioned that being the DM's girlfriend probably had influence, but is it in my benefit or not, I don't know.

I am wondering about what I should do. It's been on my mind since. Some part of me thinks I should apologize to my fellow party members but some other part of me hates this idea. Since I don't understand exactly what I did wrong, I keep replaying the evening in my head, questioning what I did, what I said. Was it in character? Was it fair? Was I being an arse?
We were playing at my place for the third time and As always I had cleaned the place, I had been in charge of making sure the pizzas were put in the oven one after the oven. I was tired and not in the easiest spot to move. So yes, I was probably a tad flippant at times. But to the point of scaring people. actual people? not their characters? I don't understand.

I hate this.

I consider leaving the table but I hate this idea because that would be giving up, while I can't even understand what I did wrong.

My best friends and sister are playing on this table. I just can't fathom not being part of it. being excluded of it. too. again. Shit it still stings.

So there. What should have been a source of fun became a heartache. cool.
I can hear my darkest parts say that if I am not part of it then no one should.
But then I never pretended I was all kindness and support. I just try not act on my darkest thoughts.

I am feeling the wind blow and wonder when I am going to disappear again.

A moment between

I don't know where I am.
I've got ideas and projects, but the moment I sit down to get anything done, my brain just goes black. There's nothing left. The words feel wrong. I don't know where to start.
I want to draw but can't find a model I like for the life of me. I want to knit but I don't want to start any new project before I get those I currently have finished.
So I am in a weird spot. In limbo.
I hope it gets better soon because I hate not being able to focus on anything. I want to throw myself in something. It hurts.

Be your own hero

I signed up at a gym a couple of weeks ago. I've been going two to three times a week since. It feels good.
I don't especially like the place. I feel exposed and a bit uneasy, out of place, even if everybody's super nice. But I keep going back. With my headphones and a cool podcast that makes time fly. I keep running and exercising.

Sport's always been part of my personal therapy, a good way for me to get healthily tired. A healthy way to hurt. To bend that body of mine to my will.

I need that to feel at peace. I need the exhaustion, the sore muscles, the little pains that tell me I am alive. I need to prove to myself what I can do.
I don't think I'll try to really get stronger, but at least to stay fit. To be able to run and to lift whatever I need to. An adventurer needs to be fit.

Zoya - Extract

The forest is endless and empty. An army of naked tree trunks growing from the never ending flat ground. The moss on the floor is of a green so vibrant I can almost percieve it, even in the dark.
The ground is flat and devoid of any landmark. I can see far ahead. No low branch, no fallen tree, nothing to hide.
I can't hear the beast behind me but I know it's there.
It was there when I had woken up with a start, startled from my dreams by a muffled sound.
We had set camp in the forest. Four girls from three countries, unexpected friends, bonded by the same experience of studying in a foreign country. It was the first time I had ever been camping. They had said it was going to be memorable.
They had no idea.
Cathy's face had been turned towards me, her blue eyes seemingly looking at me but unfocused. It had taken me a moment to notice the blood across her cheek. My eyes slowly travelled down, to her open throat, white skin catching the moonlight.
The beast's head was buried in her, gorging on her guts, hidden to me by her bag.
I stayed there, suspended in an pocket of eternity, frozen, entirely unable to move, dazed by what I was seeing.
Someone had started to screamed.
I think it was me.
All hell had broken loose.

My feet keep hitting the ground. I don't know how.

Lucinda and Bell had woken up too. The beast had looked up.
Bell had been sleeping next to Cathy. She hadn't stood a chance.
With one fluid move the beast it had just buried it's muzzle in her throat.
What Lucinda did, I don't know. I had scrambled to my feet by then and started running.

The chemistry of a stable couple - Or lack thereof

I don't know what bonds us anymore.
Whatever we used to share we now enjoy separatly.
You used to admire that I lived a packed life, now it tires you and you resent me for not making more time for the things we said we'd watch together.
I used to love going out with you, meeting friends, training, I used to love writing with you, talking for hours, now I resent you for being such a home bird.
I wanted to listen to this saga with you. I discovered it on Tumblr and wanted to share it with you. You ran away with it because I didn't have enough time, and now I resent you for that. It feels like you stole it from me. I know, it's irrational. Nothing prevents me from listening to it on my own, but I can't help but see in it a symptom of our relationship: what we could have shared we don't. Because I am too busy. Because you are too lazy. Because I am never in the right mood. Because you can't wait.
I want to go running but you hate running. I want to go swimming but you hate swimming.
Our lifestyles are similar and yet so different. I hate noise in the morning, you watch videos. I wake up early and I am active quickly, you're not a morning person.
At which point are we too different to make a good team? I am afraid of those thoughts because I know them too well. I've been there already and I don't like those clouds on the horizon.
At which point are we too dysfunctional to function together?
At which point are you going to realize that you have no reason to love me anymore.

A discussion on pride, interest and mental health

We had one of those conversations again. Those that last hours and I get out feeling like I just wasted time because I learnt nothing. I still don't understand you.
We don't deal with our demons the same way and I am at loss when it comes to understanding how you function.

I say often that I live in denial, but it is just a useful lie to make it easier to explain how I deal with my demons. It might look like I ignore my problems and pretend everything is okay, but if this blog shows us one thing, it is that I actually spend quite some time dissecting my problems.
I know them. I know what stresses me, I know what hurts me, I know what haunts me.
How could I ignore them when I spend hours feeling like my ribcage is caving in, when claws burrow in my guts, when my bones are made of lead?
When I say I hurt, it is not a metaphore. I hurt. Physically. Those are not just images, those are the very real pains that plague me.
Not all the time,
Not everyday.
But often enough.
That's depression for me. The phantom pains of my emotions. Of numbness, of emptiness, of fear, of self depressiation. They weight me down and wreck my brain enough that I can feel them.
But I refuse to let them affect me. Because they are only emotions, because I know my demons and I just refuse them to hold me back.
I rationalize everything. I recognize that yes, I am procrastinating because that task stresses me, then I take a deep breath and I kick myself into doing it. I get my shit together and get stuff done. That's what I do. It hurts, but that's what I am good at: gritting my teeth and ignoring pain. I used to dance on broken feet. I used to run with broken ribs. It's fine. I can deal with the pain, with the nightmares, with the panic attacks, because I know how to rationalize them, put them in a box small enough that I can live my life carrying them.

You on the other hand, I don't understand. You once told me that you knew yourself and that you knew your demons. But time passes and I wonder. Do you? We talk for hours, slightly unearthing things that keep you down, that prevent you from living.
You turn a blind eye to them and function the best you can. As long as you don't look too closely at them you can function. you can wake up and go to work and when you are not at work you drown yourself in comics and videogames hoping to hold the shadows at bay. Is this really all you expect from life?
I fell in love with your passion and your curiosity and your imagination. You used to create, now you only consume. You used to shine and make me feel challenged.
I don't feel that way anymore.
You said you used to have nothing to loose and maybe that's what made you shine. Perhaps you felt freer then and enjoyed life more.
Now you are afraid of losing all those things that you finally managed to get. A job that challenges you, a place of yours and a long and healthy relationship.
But I'm not sure you'll keep that last one for long the way things are going.
You hate yourself for not being good at your job but whatever spare time you have you squander trying to avoid thinking about how bad you feel for not being good at your job.

Anyhow. We all deal with our demons the best we can.
I don't know any better.
I am just not sure I can settle for what that makes of you.