moments

Moments: Eyes Open

attractive-beautiful-beautiful-girl-799420.jpg

I’m laughing this time. Moving to the ebb and flow of each syncopated beat. Saturating my body with every single juicy bass bound whirl. I’m absolutely loving it.

I told you, I was laughing. A grin teasing away at each residual bit of baby fat still clinging on for the youthful justice on my cheeks. The muscles of my mouth would only rest on a smile, no bit small but restful nonetheless.

Grinning. Smiling. Laughing.

I can see my best friend. Cozy near the small bar of the club, talking to a bouncer. About what? I don’t know. But she was smiling. And that’s all I needed to see.

That’s all I needed to see before closing my eyes once again. Mimicking each wave of the music with my spine. Colours are tracking my body with their eyes, I follow along its tantalising tale.

I open my eyes once more and this time she’s smiling at me. I smile back. A genuine exchange of happiness.

Can my eyes return there? Never again.

Because I told you, didn’t I?

I was whisked away.

I was whisked away.

Advertisements
Uncategorized

Why 2015 was a terrible year for me

Funny thing is, a lot of people I have talked to have said to me that 2015 was not their year either. That it was filled to the brim with mishaps and regrets and they just hated the year in general.

2015 was a rubbish year for me.

It’s probably why I’ve been so pessimistic for the last few months. I can’t even say realistic anymore like I used to, I’ve just been marinating in plain old pessimism. And it has got to stop, but first of all, I’ve just got to get a lot off my chest before I am able to move on from it.

First off, at the beginning of 2015’s academic year, I found out that I didn’t get into university. Which was heart breaking for me because I have always idealised getting into university as a milestone that I must reach otherwise I amounted to nothing. So, you can understand the heartbreak, right? But then, a university actually called me up and told me they could offer me place.

And this is something I haven’t really told anyone because what I did next was just… Unthinkable.

I refused the offer.

And I know, I know how silly that may seem given the obvious heart break and melancholy that had followed not being offered a place. I know that it seems unthinkable. But really, that choice was made because I actually thought about it. Was the course I picked really the right one for me? And guess what I concluded (which really should be obvious from the way this is going), I concluded no. No the course that I had thought I wanted to do, did not encompass the elements of enjoyment that I needed.

So, yes, I rejected the offer.

And that should of made me far more determined and hard working come September, but it didn’t. The damage had already been done, my depression set in motion. I was officially on the brink of destruction.

I was completely distraught from the whole situation that the thought of living became unbearable. That was, unless I found something productive with my days to do. So, I signed up to a volunteering programme in a rush without really thinking about whether it was what I wanted to do. I passed the interview, passed the training and was on my way to better things. Or, so I thought. Until I decided to leave about a week into it because it hadn’t been what I wanted to do. I didn’t like the hours, I didn’t like the challenge despite loving the people and so left.

And this… this had set me back about a month at this point. I was dwaddling half way through September and for some reason, not doing anything seemed to make me feel worse. So, I did what I did best, walked around the City of London that day. I walked until my feet were sore, rode bus after bus until every time I closed my eyes I saw red and listened to people’s conversations until they became a mild amusement to my spiralling thoughts.

That day was a strange one.

I was crying in the middle of the street without a care in the world. I was making plan after goddamn plan on what to do. I was planning if I wanted to go to university the next year, what steps I needed to take. If I didn’t want to do anything, what steps I needed to take.

I mean, this was mainly around the time I was seriously contemplating suicide. It had, at the time, seemed like the only viable option and I was quite frankly exhausted of putting on a smile for my friends. I was exhausted of pretending to everyone that everything was alright and I just wanted to exit this world in a quite permanent matter.

But I didn’t.

You see, the months before, I’d had a mental health assessment because I was not in too good a place in April. Because they hadn’t any spaces at the time, in true British fashion, I was put into a cue and told to wait. And, even though this was at the back of my mind, I never thought it would come to fruition because it had been months since I had last heard of them.

But I had gotten a phone call saying that they could now offer me therapy. So, I had another option. I could either live in depression for the next year and go to university, kill myself (this was something I had made a plan and set a date to) or try and get better and if I really wanted to, go to university.

I ended up choosing the third option (obviously). I changed the content of my blog so I could start writing how I felt more freely, I went to weekly therapy sessions, I got a job (that I deeply enjoy), I visited my friends in uni as to not feel as alone and I am now applying to university.

I should place a disclaimer right here, right now, I am not at all healed by a long shot. In fact, my allotted number of therapy sessions are coming to an end (I’m on 10 out of 12) and I actually started a club that I’m not interested in. I still have flashbacks, bouts of depression, my anxiety is a weird thing that has sky rocketed and I still go through spells of suicidal ideation. But, I am getting better.

I am getting better.

And I’ll tell you how and why in the next blog post.

Nakedstreetkid out x

Uncategorized

Feminist Society’s and other strange observations

On Friday I went to my very first meeting of the Feminist Society at my school and it was… Interesting? Interesting because it revealed something very important about the psyche of my school. That they were open to listening to ideas, but were they open to absorbing people ideas and molding their own opinion around it? Nope. And maybe they didn’t have to be, not at all. Because once you have an opinion, why should you change it just because there is one which opposes it? 

But, the thing which worried me was that they were all too young to make hard and fast judgments on the world around them. They didn’t know enough to say “this is this and there is no way around it”, when clearly, there is. There is a way around it. There is another way of thinking about it and it worries me that they are already so closed off at this age. Not all of them, but some of them. Some of them exhibited such a closed off attitude and it just worries me. That’s all.

But then, I feel kind of hypocritical.

How can I say that they are not already people with sophisticated values and principles, based on age?

But then I feel like a lot of adults shouldn’t be so closed off into their ways, but I’ve come to accept it because they’re “old” and are “stuck in their ways.” I hate that way of thinking, but was told that a long time ago by my sister and chose not to believe her for so long but as I’ve grown older, I’ve had the privilege of having more “adult” conversations with those well above my own age. And it has revealed a lot of things in their own psyche which seems stuck into one way of thinking and no matter how many counter arguments I throw their way, they rebut them. Even if it’s an illogical rebuttal. Even if there is no ammo in their arguments. How can you talk to someone who sees no other way but their own? Who cannot see from your point of view and die hard believers of “I’m right, you’re wrong. I’m big, you’re small”? How?


Hey, I’ve gone off topic. Again. -_-

But yeah, the point is, I feel as if we’re too young for that type of mentality. How can we be so set in our ways when we still have experiences yet to mold us into the person we are to become?

Nakedstreetkid out x 😀