Every day of my life is a fight against the constant onslaught of words.
Words hurt me. But I'm not talking about insults. I'm talking about seemingly innocent words. These are words that I have used, words that remind me of things. Sometimes, they remind me of things that are embarrassing. But mostly they just remind me of things that aren't embarrassing but seem embarrassing to me because for me everything is embarrassing.
So I am armed with my comfort word: spirits. Spirits is a good word. It works because it reminds me of something funny. I don't actually laugh when I say the word spirits, saying it only makes me think of something subconsciously and then I feel better. If I actually start thinking of it consciously, I will start laughing. Out loud. It works every time.
And yes, I do say spirits out loud. How loud I say it depends on how badly I am triggered. Sometimes I say it loudly and people look at me, but I don't care. I just smile and laugh to myself. I laugh at how weird I am.
But I don't let people know what my trigger words are, because then they might use them against me. So usually there is a bit of a delay. I am triggered, I wait a few moments and then say spirits. One time a guy was convinced that bench was one of my trigger words. I'll tell you a secret: it's not. I have no emotional reaction whatsoever to the word bench. If I did, I wouldn't be telling you this. Because it really hurts hearing these words. And they are very common words. It makes me mad how easily I am triggered.
So that's why I am known as the spirit girl. Because I say spirits all the time. I also sometimes say spirates, because that works too. I made up the word spirates. It works because it is close to the word spirits.
I say it like this usually: Sssssss... pirits.
The spirits I am reminded of are fictional, but there are real spirits. These spirits have had a great impact on my life. Other people know the spirits are real, but they disagree about how they have affected my life. My life has been tampered with, but other people think I am just mentally ill.
I used to think sometimes that I was just mentally ill. Those were times when I had forgotten. I try not to forget. I haven't always been in a sound state of mind, but I am now. Ask my parents, I am. And in my sound state of mind I can look at my life and think critically about it, and it is clear to me that my life has been tampered with.
But that should be the subject of another blog post.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Passion
It was during this month five years ago that my life was turned inside out.
I don't know why it happened. But one thing I know is that I'm not ashamed of it and I don't wish that it hadn't happened. Sure, I've experienced some unpleasant things. But I also experienced some amazing things. It shook the ground beneath my feet, launched me through the air, changed the way I see the world and there is no going back to the way I was before. I don't know how to describe what happened and how it changed me, because there's simply no way to explain it and really do it justice. Good or bad, I'm passionate about the life I've lived. And I feel blessed that I can say that. I feel blessed that there is something in my life I can say I feel passionate about and really, really mean it. And I feel so strange saying that I feel blessed about something that a lot of people might say was negative.
There are certain things that burn me up. One of those things is my parents, and how they talk about how hard my "mental illness" has been on them. It's been hard on me too! And if it wasn't for them and the way they acted, it wouldn't have been nearly as hard. But mostly it burns me up because this is my life. Because I don't know who I'd be if this hadn't happened to me. I'd probably be boring, a nobody. So I don't want to hear them complain about my life. And I don't want to hear them say that it was brought on because I couldn't handle the stress of college life, because I know that's not it, and I know that things happen for a reason. No, I don't know why this happened. But I feel sure that on some level I planned this, that I was up for this challenge and that in the end this will lead to good things.
The other thing that burns me up is that I know that other people would not understand. They might think negative things about me. Because I must admit, this whole thing makes me look pretty freaking strange. But if they were me and they lived my life, they would understand, and they would know that this isn't something to be ashamed of. Because everything I did was logical and rational if you see it from my perspective. Yes, there were times when my thinking got a bit irrational. And there are things I regret, mostly things I regret saying. And it eats me up, but I try my best to move past it and focus on the things I don't regret. It makes me angry thinking about what people might think, but it's a passionate sort of anger that drives me and gives me the desire to prove myself.
This isn't over yet. Through out my life I've been trudging along, following a path that was set out for me. I thought I had reached the end of the path five years ago when this happened (because it wasn't the beginning). After that, more stuff happened and then I realized that it hadn't been the end, I was still on the path. Then my delusions ended and I thought that was the end of the path. But now I realize there is still more, and I am still following this path. I don't know where it leads, but I will continue to follow it to see where I end up. And hopefully, I will be glad I did.
I don't know why it happened. But one thing I know is that I'm not ashamed of it and I don't wish that it hadn't happened. Sure, I've experienced some unpleasant things. But I also experienced some amazing things. It shook the ground beneath my feet, launched me through the air, changed the way I see the world and there is no going back to the way I was before. I don't know how to describe what happened and how it changed me, because there's simply no way to explain it and really do it justice. Good or bad, I'm passionate about the life I've lived. And I feel blessed that I can say that. I feel blessed that there is something in my life I can say I feel passionate about and really, really mean it. And I feel so strange saying that I feel blessed about something that a lot of people might say was negative.
There are certain things that burn me up. One of those things is my parents, and how they talk about how hard my "mental illness" has been on them. It's been hard on me too! And if it wasn't for them and the way they acted, it wouldn't have been nearly as hard. But mostly it burns me up because this is my life. Because I don't know who I'd be if this hadn't happened to me. I'd probably be boring, a nobody. So I don't want to hear them complain about my life. And I don't want to hear them say that it was brought on because I couldn't handle the stress of college life, because I know that's not it, and I know that things happen for a reason. No, I don't know why this happened. But I feel sure that on some level I planned this, that I was up for this challenge and that in the end this will lead to good things.
The other thing that burns me up is that I know that other people would not understand. They might think negative things about me. Because I must admit, this whole thing makes me look pretty freaking strange. But if they were me and they lived my life, they would understand, and they would know that this isn't something to be ashamed of. Because everything I did was logical and rational if you see it from my perspective. Yes, there were times when my thinking got a bit irrational. And there are things I regret, mostly things I regret saying. And it eats me up, but I try my best to move past it and focus on the things I don't regret. It makes me angry thinking about what people might think, but it's a passionate sort of anger that drives me and gives me the desire to prove myself.
This isn't over yet. Through out my life I've been trudging along, following a path that was set out for me. I thought I had reached the end of the path five years ago when this happened (because it wasn't the beginning). After that, more stuff happened and then I realized that it hadn't been the end, I was still on the path. Then my delusions ended and I thought that was the end of the path. But now I realize there is still more, and I am still following this path. I don't know where it leads, but I will continue to follow it to see where I end up. And hopefully, I will be glad I did.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Fashion Trends: A Fashion Industry Conspiracy
Today I was pondering the stupidity of fashion trends. Not the stupidity of fashion itself, because I don't think it's bad to wear clothes that look good and that suit your personality. But why do things that looked good in the 80's not look good anymore? I think it was probably because they never looked good to begin with. Like the big hair look. I mean, really big hair. Nothing's really changed, that never looked good.
I don't know why something would look good one year and then not look good the next. I asked Caitlin about this. Sometimes, the mere act of asking someone a question can lead to you figuring out the answer by yourself. I realized that it was a conspiracy. This is what the fashion industry does to make more money. So you are supposed to read magazines to figure out what's in and what's out. And then you have to keep buying new clothes so your look is constantly "in," and you can't wear your old clothes because they are "out."
True fashion never goes out of style. Or if it does, it's because you changed and you are reflecting that change on the outside. You, personally, changed. I follow my own trends. Like wearing a lot of makeup. That was a personal trend. And honestly, it probably never looked good. But I didn't know that and I thought it did look good at the time, so I was happy wearing a lot of makeup.
Or maybe I'm completely wrong about this. Maybe these people who follow fashion trends are actually more evolved than people like me who think fashion trends are stupid. Because they are part of a collective consciousness, and their minds are all connected and amongst them there is unity. So when really big hair was in, the population was collectively blinded to the fact that it actually looked bad. But if this were true, there would be no need for fashion magazines, because people would just know what was in style intuitively. So I'm going with my conspiracy theory.
But anyway, I didn't mean for this to be a rant about conformity. Though, in a way it is. It's about that and the fact that there aren't enough magazines of substance out there. If there were, maybe I could focus on a different magazine besides Psychology Today to get published in, because that seems like a long shot. But I suppose it will all work out in the end.
I don't know why something would look good one year and then not look good the next. I asked Caitlin about this. Sometimes, the mere act of asking someone a question can lead to you figuring out the answer by yourself. I realized that it was a conspiracy. This is what the fashion industry does to make more money. So you are supposed to read magazines to figure out what's in and what's out. And then you have to keep buying new clothes so your look is constantly "in," and you can't wear your old clothes because they are "out."
True fashion never goes out of style. Or if it does, it's because you changed and you are reflecting that change on the outside. You, personally, changed. I follow my own trends. Like wearing a lot of makeup. That was a personal trend. And honestly, it probably never looked good. But I didn't know that and I thought it did look good at the time, so I was happy wearing a lot of makeup.
Or maybe I'm completely wrong about this. Maybe these people who follow fashion trends are actually more evolved than people like me who think fashion trends are stupid. Because they are part of a collective consciousness, and their minds are all connected and amongst them there is unity. So when really big hair was in, the population was collectively blinded to the fact that it actually looked bad. But if this were true, there would be no need for fashion magazines, because people would just know what was in style intuitively. So I'm going with my conspiracy theory.
But anyway, I didn't mean for this to be a rant about conformity. Though, in a way it is. It's about that and the fact that there aren't enough magazines of substance out there. If there were, maybe I could focus on a different magazine besides Psychology Today to get published in, because that seems like a long shot. But I suppose it will all work out in the end.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Driven
I've been feeling funny for the past few months. Funny in a spiritual way. It started back in December, when I got this odd feeling like something was going to happen. Then it turned into a push. And I knew I needed to work on getting my book published. See, I wrote a memoir about my strange life. I feel that saying my life is strange is a huge understatement, but lately I've had this problem where I struggle to find the right word.
Which brings me to my next problem. Writing. I desperately need to write, write, write. And then submit everything anywhere and everywhere, so that I am out there and I am published and people know who I am. Then these agents I've been querying might send me more than a form rejection letter. I've gotten nine so far, which isn't really that many rejections for a hopeful author, but there is no sign that my luck is going to change, except for this feeling that I have, this strange sense of knowing that in the end I will be published and people will know who I am. But one thing that I've learned is that strange feelings can be unreliable.
So I've been experiencing a bit of writer's block, which in itself is something I can write about so writing this is actually helping. Actually, I wrote a piece the other day which I thought was good. Good enough to be published in a magazine? I don't know, but it's worth a shot. I was feeling inspired that day but inspiration isn't something that's always plentiful, I sort of wish they would bottle inspiration, which they do actually in the form of a mocha frappuccino. Problem is I live at a residential program and I don't have a lot of money, and they cost close to three dollars each. And now my brain is starting to go off on a tangent about the invigorating spirit lifting combination of chocolate and coffee.
The fact that I live in a residential program doesn't help things, because they're picky about when I can use my computer. I don't know the logic behind this. Actually, I don't understand the logic behind a lot of their rules. I think it's because they've had some porn addicts in the past, which makes no sense because even if I did get the internet in my room, I wouldn't look at porn. It's kind of lame and boring, in my opinion. And off I go on another tangent.
And at this point I am distracted because the guy across from me at the table is listening to music through headphones but I can hear it, it's the song "Where's your head at?" by the Basement Jaxx and it brings me back to freshman year of high school when I used to watch music videos on MTV, and they had that song and there were a bunch of monkeys and I think they captured humans and they were going to operate on them and switch heads with them or something like that. And it reminds me of how my mom was so worried about me that year because she thought I had an eating disorder. I remember going to the mall, which was near one of my doctors and drinking smoothies and my mom asking the lady if there were any boosts that would add more fat to the smoothie. It's weird how music can do that you, it can bring back random memories of time periods you had forgotten about. Scents do the same thing.
So anyway, I'm feeling so driven that I am paralyzed and can't do anything because I don't know what to do next, I'd like to get my article published in Psychology Today but I feel that that might be a bit ambitious for an
unknown author. But then again, I did get a fortune cookie that said I would be successful in my endeavors, and that just might be the spirits' way of telling me that I'm on the right track.
Which brings me to my next problem. Writing. I desperately need to write, write, write. And then submit everything anywhere and everywhere, so that I am out there and I am published and people know who I am. Then these agents I've been querying might send me more than a form rejection letter. I've gotten nine so far, which isn't really that many rejections for a hopeful author, but there is no sign that my luck is going to change, except for this feeling that I have, this strange sense of knowing that in the end I will be published and people will know who I am. But one thing that I've learned is that strange feelings can be unreliable.
So I've been experiencing a bit of writer's block, which in itself is something I can write about so writing this is actually helping. Actually, I wrote a piece the other day which I thought was good. Good enough to be published in a magazine? I don't know, but it's worth a shot. I was feeling inspired that day but inspiration isn't something that's always plentiful, I sort of wish they would bottle inspiration, which they do actually in the form of a mocha frappuccino. Problem is I live at a residential program and I don't have a lot of money, and they cost close to three dollars each. And now my brain is starting to go off on a tangent about the invigorating spirit lifting combination of chocolate and coffee.
The fact that I live in a residential program doesn't help things, because they're picky about when I can use my computer. I don't know the logic behind this. Actually, I don't understand the logic behind a lot of their rules. I think it's because they've had some porn addicts in the past, which makes no sense because even if I did get the internet in my room, I wouldn't look at porn. It's kind of lame and boring, in my opinion. And off I go on another tangent.
And at this point I am distracted because the guy across from me at the table is listening to music through headphones but I can hear it, it's the song "Where's your head at?" by the Basement Jaxx and it brings me back to freshman year of high school when I used to watch music videos on MTV, and they had that song and there were a bunch of monkeys and I think they captured humans and they were going to operate on them and switch heads with them or something like that. And it reminds me of how my mom was so worried about me that year because she thought I had an eating disorder. I remember going to the mall, which was near one of my doctors and drinking smoothies and my mom asking the lady if there were any boosts that would add more fat to the smoothie. It's weird how music can do that you, it can bring back random memories of time periods you had forgotten about. Scents do the same thing.
So anyway, I'm feeling so driven that I am paralyzed and can't do anything because I don't know what to do next, I'd like to get my article published in Psychology Today but I feel that that might be a bit ambitious for an
unknown author. But then again, I did get a fortune cookie that said I would be successful in my endeavors, and that just might be the spirits' way of telling me that I'm on the right track.
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