A letter to my 13-year-old self.

Today starts

10-Day Letter Writing Challenge

and, as I mentioned in the original post that I reblogged earlier today, or rather yesterday as it’s past midnight, I really liked the idea. I have never participated in those kind of challenges where you write every day for a certain amount of time, so I don’t know how it will go and I don’t promise that I will stick to it on my blog, but I do plan to write those letters for sure in my diary because I like to expand it in such ways and not just plain write about my daily life.

Here’s a letter to my 13-year-old self:

Hi Bisbis [Bisbis/Bibiel was the way I used to mostly call myself as a child and teen]

I am your future self, however strange that may sound to you. You may wonder why I am writing to you in English then, and I am sure that it will take you a looong time to figure this letter out, but this will at least improve your English skills and occupy your mind with something interesting for a while. You will need it in the future – the English, I mean. – One day, when life will get better, you will have an English blog. You have heard from people that you have a talent for languages and you sometimes wonder if it is true and what you should do about it, if anything. And you have already learnt some Swedish. I know how painful it is for you that you cannot do it anymore. Please don’t suppress this one thing at least. I think it will be of some comfort to you if I’ll tell you that you will be able to return to your Swedish in future. It will bring you a lot of pleasure and you will also learn to love many other languages, which will make your life feel more purposeful. You will have to thank one of your faza objects for that. Soon after that, you will also find the greatest love of your life (so far at least), whom you will love with all your brain and soul, who will live with you and sleep with you and who will be your best friend. No, obviously I’m not talking about any guy, I’m sure you know it! Nor about a girl, if you’re wondering, or maybe being concerned, hehe. His name will be Misha, not Jacek, and that’s all I’m gonna tell you. Believe me, seriously, the things will not always be the way they are right now, even though it really looks like they will. Change will come sooner than you think, although you will have to get through a lot before it happens, and then learn a lot of things that you might find unpleasant or uncomfortable.

I know that you wrote a letter to me as well, like Emily of the New Moon did to herself, but unfortunately I am not able to read it now and look back at all those things you wanted to know and respond to you properly because you lost it. You do have to learn to be less chaotic. But so far it hasn’t happened. πŸ˜€ And I think we agree that being chaotic is more interesting, right? I still like Emily of the New Moon a lot, although not as frenziedly as you. I can assure you that your current dream will come true and that you will change your name to Emilia legally soon after you turn 18. It was a good idea so you don’t have to worry, you were right and I thank you for that.

At this point, I live in a different house than the one that is your family home, but not far away from there, just in a town nearby. It is also big, and you will move in it about 7 years from where you are at, if I’m counting correctly. You will like it here. As we’re talking about counting, I have some bad news for you too. Well, at least for you it will probably sound bad, I feel quite neutral about it and I don’t perceive it as a tragedy or even anything near it. You will not pass your math final exam after high school. Moreover, you will decide not to rewrite it.

There was that man who told you that you won’t fix yourself by studying psychology and becoming a therapist, and you felt offended because he was assuming and implying that something was wrong with you and that you were selfish, and I think you also felt very insecure because you knew he could be on to something. I know that your intentions weren’t selfish at all, but, as you’ll see for yourself later on, he was actually right, in a lot of ways. Because, you do know deep down that it is not normal to feel the way you feel, all the time, don’t you? And you do realise that many things in your life and functioning aren’t the way they should be? Well, you will need time to come to terms with this, and one day you will understand that it is yourself who needs help, before you can give it to others. But also, this is not your fault, as you think and as everyone is making you feel or even telling you, indirectly. I do not like you much more than you like yourself, if I’m being honest with you, but I want you to know that this is not your fault and that some people, even those you seriously wouldn’t suspect to be, are way more selfish than you think, others are clueless. You are clueless too. You will learn and discover some difficult things about yourself and your life circumstances, I am still doing that and in a way it’s getting overwhelming, and so confusing, but you will learn to live and cope with those things you learn about yourself, but also making those discoveries will be helpful, as life and your whole situation will become a bit clearer for yourself and others, and it is always easier to deal with something that you know at least a bit. As I said, life will really get better. Your brain will get better. The mere relief from having to pretend that everything is OK will make a difference. You will find a lot of friends online, not the same ones as you have right now, although I know many of them are cool, and don’t let anyone tell you that online friendships are any less valuable or real or something. You will find very supportive and understanding people with whom you will often have a lot of things in common, in one way or another. I know it feels awful right now but don’t give up just yet. And, while you will still have a deep interest in psychology, maybe even deeper in some ways, I think you will grow out of that idea, and instead you will decide to focus on your languages more. Well, that’s at least what I know now, who knows how things will get in the more distant future. As for more distant future, currently I have no idea how it will go, and it feels somewhat scary even to me, but I am trying to be hopeful because otherwise I would have no right to tell you not to give up, as my life is way easier than yours.

Zofijka is almost your age now and a lot of what you thought she’d be like has come true. She is very bubbly and energetic and talks all the time, and she loves sports and One Direction and currently has become enamoured with Japanese men, and yes, she loves clothes shopping and changes her clothes all the time, but she has a very distinctive style despite being a very average girl in a lot of ways, and you’d be surprised how very mature she is deep down. I think you would like her. Though she is very different from you, and thus very different from me, and so we not always get along.

I really don’t know what else to tell you, other than that there is hope, so I will be finishing, because it’s 2 AM and I feel like I should go to sleep. Yeah, I still tend to write at nights, but now it’s my choice, and not a necessity, and I realise it’s a luxury not only for people like you who feel they lack privacy but most people actually, who aren’t able to manage their time on their own. Ah, and I can tell you that you will live in times of a pandemic, which is happening right now, I guess you’d find that interesting, for example to observe how people are behaving. I find it interesting myself, but while it’s changed our lives all around the world very much, it doesn’t feel scary for myself so far. Maybe just because it is not a norovirus pandemic, haha.

Your future Bibiel self (I no longer call myself Bibiel all the time, only sometimes, you have to adjust to the society at some point, but I still am Bibiel and am loving it no less than you do)

Working On Us – rejection.

I haven’t participated in Working On Us by Beckie of

Beckie’s Mental Mess

for a while, so I thought I would this week. THe topic of this week’s mental health prompt is rejection.

1. Have you ever been rejected by family/friends because of your mental illness/disorder?

No. I think it’s mostly simply because I usually do not tell people about my mental illness or such things, or if I do it’s very briefly if necessary. I have experienced some negative or invalidating reactions, in particular from my Dad, which often felt very hurtful to me, but I wouldn’t call that rejection. Rather a lack of understanding and flexibility in thinking. My Mum is very supportive in all sorts of practical ways and I wouldn’t do without her, she is also more open-minded than my Dad, she tries to understand it but it’s often not easy for her as she’s never experienced things that I have, and often says hurtful things more or less unintentionally. I used to struggle much more with that but I’ve never thought that it could be their way of rejecting me. Other people are far more likely to reject me because of my blindness than mental illness.

2. Has anyone mistreated you to the point you felt like you were nothing?

Don’t know if it made me exactly feel “as if I were nothing” but I had experienced some emotional abuse at school, particularly from one of the boarding school staff, who was humiliating me in a veiled way and diminishing me and all I did, which caused me a lot of confusion and feelings of inadequacy, and made my self-esteem drop quite a bit, and it never was particularly high. It took me a lot of time, only as an adult, to figure all that out and make some sense of that situation, because for a long time I felt like it kind of wasn’t real and that I perhaps misunderstood her words or actions or something like that. There were also many other situations there where I felt like people were making me feel very shitty about myself but it wasn’t as bad and I think wouldn’t even affect me as much as it did if not my overall life situation – that I was miles away from my family and could never fully adapt there. – When I got older I frequently experienced quite spectacular reactions of people to my disability, like, I assume some people must be terribly afraid of catching optic nerve hypoplasia from me or something, I’ve had people treating me like I was a mass of air. That felt very unpleasant for sure and as if I was nothing to them, but I can’t say I cared very much or felt significantly hurt, it was frustrating and annoying, but more funny than seriously hurtful, it’s funny when people are so silly that they’re so scared of you that they can’t talk coherently when they see you. πŸ˜€ It’s paradoxical when people are scared of you and you’re a sociophobic.
3. Have you ever confronted the person/persons that have made you feel this way?

No. When it comes to that staff person, I was a child then, I didn’t really feel safe talking to her at all, let alone confronting her, also, I’m sure you guys know how it is with toxic people, emotional abuse and all that. I actually had no clear idea what was going on. I wouldn’t think it was abuse or that she was treating me wrong in any way. First because I was a child, even if fairly intelligent and enjoying observing and analysing people’s behaviours, and second because it’s all always so veiled and subtle, I wouldn’t know how to talk about it to her and not sound irrational or something. I think I would still have trouble in such a situation if it happened to me now, it’s just tricky. I tried talking to another staff member who was a really competent person and whom I quite liked, but she didn’t really get it, I honestly don’t think she believed it because that other woman was always so positive and everyone saw it, so how could she do such things? I only talked to her because my Mum told me to do so.

4. If the answer to #3 is β€œYes”, was anything resolved?

When talking to that staff member didn’t help my Mum talked to her – that other staff member, not the one who was nasty to me – and things have changed a little for good, but not significantly.

5. Has rejection changed you in any way? ie… Self-Esteem, Depression, and/or changed your opinion the way you feel towards the human race as a whole?
Wellyes it did. I have avoidant personality disorder in which fear of being rejected is one of the features, and it often develops in people who have experienced it early in life. I had never thought about it this way, but some time ago my Mum wanted to talk about it and her theory is that when I went to that school (I was 5) I might have felt rejected by my family and confused about what was happening. I just never saw it this way, I always thought it was normal I must be there and that the problem is rather that I can’t adjust there and accept the situation. But perhaps when I was 5 I didn’t understand what it was all about, why I had to be away from home, and why people were coming and going, or taking me home for a few days and then leaving me there again. This theory makes sense to me now. But obviously I don’t blame my parents now or anything like that because I know they didn’t feel like they had a choice and their motive wasn’t that they wanted to get rid of me. But I think such an experience could successfully make me more sensitive to rejection. I wouldn’t say this is the strongest AVPD symptom in me, like that the primary reason why I avoid people, why I struggle with social situations, why I don’t do socialising is because I’m afraid of rejection. I don’t think that’s most important here, though at the same time it’s hard to say what is that core thing, I just think it’s a mixture of loads of things. I’ve heard about many people with this disorder struggling with this particular thing the most of all. For me, I’m not desperate for acceptance from everyone, I won’t typically tell you that I like something just so we would agree and be friends and would like me or I won’t tell you my opinion on something because yours may be different. I don’t go around in search of people who will accept me and if some relationship doesn’t go well or if I see that someone doesn’t really feel the connection I won’t desperately try to keep them. I do value my individuality even if at the same time I hate it because it makes me feel like such a flippin’ alien. I guess when I interact with people, they may see I’m anxious or depressed or such things, but I think I’m pretty good with hiding my AVPD related difficulties in daily life or in casual interactions with people, but perhaps that’s just what I think. I have no problem with, for example, people I know online for a little while when they suddenly stop writing back to me or something, unless there are some other things involved, but when it’s people I feel attached to that reject me or I feel that they reject me it’s crushing. For me, the fear of rejection manifests more in the way that I hate being clingy, for example, I just hate clinginess, both in myself and in other people. I don’t want to feel like a burden for people or someone needy, either emotionally or in any other way, yet I often strongly feel like I am. I often don’t let myself close enough to people I would like to be close with, and keep at least a bit of a distance, ’cause then they can’t reject me. Or if I have a possibility, first I do an in-depth observation and analysis of a person before I start talking to them. With people with whom I am more close with I always sort of have a radar on, which is in a way very yucky and a bit paranoid, I think I have this particular tendency from my Dad, but then again, I’ll do everything for them not to realise that. Often I’m just simply scared of closeness with people. I’ve realised some time ago that I often test people that I meet and that I feel we could be friends, or when I just feel very insecure, I do it often almost unconsciously, kind of automatically. I virtually only realised I’m doing it when I got diagnosed and was reading about it a lot, I had no clearer idea before that. It feels quite yucky too but you do have to protect your brain don’t you? You’ve got only one and when it’s already screwed up to begin with you have to be careful. I suppose they’re not aware of that testing thing, or maybe it’s just my wishful thinking. It feels rather gross when you think about yourself that you’re “testing people”, but that’s true, even if not always fully voluntary. If the test is negative, I have the possibility to retreat before they reject me, it makes me feel more in control of my own life and feelings. I’m often afraid though that I would become attached to someone so much that I won’t be able to notice it in case they would no longer accept me for whatever reason or never truly did, and then they would suddenly reject me without me even being able to prepare for it emotionally in advance and accept it.

6. Or, has rejection done the opposite and made your stronger and more resilient?
I don’t think so, but I do think my tolerance for it has increased over time.

Question of the day (25th August).

Hi guys. πŸ™‚

I was feeling shitty all day yesterday so didn’t even write anything, so here’s the overdue question for you, another childhood related one.

Did you like school? Are there reasons that you liked/disliked it?

My answer:

Who likes school? Not me anyway. Okay, at the beginning of my education I liked school somewhat, just except having to stay at the boarding school and except all the stressful stuff. It was stressful and challenging but I guess I liked learning. But it didn’t last long. Things were becoming more and more stressful, and I realised that, at least most of the time, creativity isn’t very well seen, and that most of the time it’s just either boring or freakishly abstractive for my brain, and that it was becoming more and more rare that what I learned at school would be either interesting or significantly beneficial/useful to me and bring something new into my life. I much preferred to learn things myself, things that I found interesting, although that wasn’t always possible, or not to a big degree. I didn’t do socialising literally at all at the beginning, then with years I learned to engage with people a bit more but it was very superficial. At the beginning of primary I remember I loved learning Polish and especially English, with English I stopped loving it as a subject very quickly because we happened to have a teacher that no one of us really liked who wasn’t too approachable or likeable, and then for the next year or two we had in turn a very meek teacher who was a lovely person but couldn’t even have much control over the class, and wasn’t demanding at all so things were either boring or chaotic on her lessons. And most of the time I didn’t have luck with English teachers, no matter in which school I was, I had only a few pretty good ones, and I’ve had fair few of them haha. Polish I loved for longer, as long as I was allowed to write elaborate stuff on topics I liked or that I felt comfortable with and could read at least mostly what I liked or stuff that we were reading for school was interesting. I think I started to get seriously disheartened by Polish in 4th grade but still was fairly good at it, and still there were things I liked about it. But, as you hopefully know, at least if you’ve been here for a while, neither English or Polish as a subject has ever discouraged me from liking those languages as such, although it was very close to it with English at some point and I had to rediscover it for myself a bit and, in a way, relearn it in my own way. I never cared much for grades, neither good nor bad, and I was not a perfectionist at school matters whatsoever, though the bigger tests usually really scared me and with time I did started to feel slightly inferior because of my math dilemmas, but only a bit. I hated that they wanted me to be good at everything (thankfully my Mum didn’t and was pissed off with that approach when she found out there is such so I didn’t want to be good at everything either). I guess I must have some sort of ability to learn things reasonably quickly, which was a bit weird but which really saved me at school, because I didn’t like studying hard, I mean repeating what we had at school and just spending more time than necessary with school stuff, I only did homework and repeated things very superficially before tests if I felt like I could fail spectacularly or if I needed to do reasonably good. I just never like to spend too much time doing boring things that I don’t have much interest in. I had to change that approach when preparing to my finals and spend horrendous amounts of time preparing to my math exam, but, as it seems, even studying really hard can’t always save you. πŸ˜€ So, especially as time went by, there were less and less things I liked at school. I was constantly stressed and depressed, having trouble engaging with people and doing a lot of daily prosaic stuff because of various things that I was struggling with, I was awfully neurotic and just hated school with a passion. Somehow I guess though that most of the time I at least managed to keep the impression that I’m doing well, unless someone was a bit more perceptive but I didn’t want people to see, or see as little as possible. I’ve also always been scared of changes, and at school you get a whole lot of them sometimes.

When I was 17, I got out of the school for the blind permanently and for a year that I had left until starting college, or however else you’d call it in your country, I was having individual education at my local school, where my brother was going to. My dream was always to be homeschooled, but I knew that was hardly possible, so I was happy that the psychiatrist who saw me at the time agreed with my Mum and therapist and the headmaster of that school who felt I could benefit from doing that year in individual education. And my poor teachers would benefit too, they weren’t really prepared for me appearing suddenly and I know most of them were deadly scared of the prospect of teaching a blind student. So I think it was easier for them doing it just with me than in the class, if it felt so challenging for them. And that year was the best year at school for me. I am sure that had I been at that school all the time it wouldn’t be a good decision, but I sort of regretted I didn’t come there earlier. I discovered that – while I was reasonably good at most subjects before – I was doing much better when learning one to one, and also I liked that I could really get to know my teachers well and they could get to know me well. I had exams at the end of that year, before going to college, but I don’t remember being very stressed about them. I was, a bit, for sure, but not quite as much as I was before previous or later major exams. I only remember finishing the syllabus for most of the subjects ridiculously quickly and reading my Vreeswijk’s poems translations or my short stories to my Polish teacher during our lessons and such. They really liked me there and I liked them. Sometimes I came to Olek’s classroom and had had lessons with the class (we were in the same class even though he’s two years younger than me because I had two years delay) and I kinda got along with a few girls in there even though they didn’t even know where people speak Finnish but oh well, never mind. I had a whole big classroom just to myself where I had all the lessons, and I remember passionately reading “Outsider” by Colin Wilson during most breaks while listening to music on the headphones so, if you know me, you’d figure out I was pretty chilled there, as for my standards. πŸ˜€ So yeah, that school I did like.

Then I went to that weekend school for adults, which was just boring. I also found it hard to socialise with people, especially with most of the teachers, those who seemed to be plain scared of me or something like that. I was really struggling with math stuff, and the rest was usually quite boring. I had one good friend who was helping me with things like getting around which made it all much easier for me, and I had some other fun people in the class too though a lot of people were dropping out or coming as they pleased since it was a college for adults so no one could pressure them to do anything really, and many folks got some benefits at work or something like this when they were learning at the same time so they enrolled often just for the sake of it. It all felt a bit artificial for me but then school is generally one big faking in so many ways for me so I was just trying to get through that period as best I could. At some point my Mum got tired of driving me back and forth and I was tired of sitting in the class while they were looking at slideshows or doing something from a textbook that I didn’t have and we collaboratively decided to ask my teachers if I could do the learning at home and just come in for exams and such. They all agreed with great relief, and promised profusely to send me what they are doing in class and the topics of the assignments and dates of the exams, but then I had to send them countless emails asking for that and that was rather yucky and resulted in a couple situations where I knew just last minute that I had an exam coming up or wrote an assignment a day before the due date. I hated that and it annoyed me like shit but overall when I stopped having to go to school every weekend life became a bit easier practically, and even more so for my Mum.

So that’s it, my experience with school, quite eventful, but mostly miserable, and made me feel really spiteful towards the whole education system, so that if someone wants to rant about it, I am always open and happy to chime in, just for the sake of it. Though Mum claims I am intoxicating Zofijka with my spite when doing it with her. I’m not sure I even care, is that awful of me? Zofijka mostly thinks what I do anyway, and comes with her school troubles to me a lot of the time, and I have to get my shit out somewhere finally too.

How much did you hate school? πŸ™‚

Ina Wroldsen – “Mother”.

Hi hi people! πŸ™‚

So, this song, for me, is that kind of song which lyrics are just so ridiculously, creepily or comfortingly – depending from which angle you choose to look at it – relatable to you and describing you, your life and various situations you’ve been through, as if someone just broke into your flamin’ brain and wrote about your feelings. I hear so often that people say things like “Oh God, this song is just about me!” or such things, but to me it actually doesn’t happen very often, not to such an extent that I could literally sign myself with all my limbs under the lyrics, although I did have my personal song as a child and teen, which was “Evacuee” by Enya. This one is vastly different from Enya’s music, but no less relatable to me, maybe even more relatable to me in a way because, thankfully, I no longer have to relate to that child in “Evacuee”, and this song by Ina Wroldsen describes my feelings and my life and my relationships with people in so many more ways, not just a part of my life as it is with “Evacuee”.

Ina Wroldsen is a Norwegian singer, she is very popular in her country and in Scandinavia but also in other European countries, collaborating with many DJ’s and such, I am pretty sure that I must have heard her somewhere earlier before I discovered it for myself, as for example her song “Strongest” was a real hit. I discovered her for myself when I started to listen to more Norwegian music, largely by accident, but I never was very crazy on her, just another cool Norwegian artist out there, a bit too normal for me to like her really really much. πŸ˜€

Sometimes I focus on lyrics of my favourite songs, sometimes I don’t. Usually I focus more on those I like more, and when something is just cool but normal I tend to only focus on the music, since it rarely has very striking lyrics anyway. And so was when I first heard “Mother” last year. But at some point while listening to it I focused much more and thought: “Huh, these lyrics sound familiar”, as in, something I knew from my own experience and from my own brain. πŸ˜€ And, seriously, when I listened to the song thoroughly, just everything felt so so much like me. And not at all only in regards to the time where I was at the boarding school and struggling with a lot of stuff and wanted outa there, and not only even in relation to my own Mum. Some verses, that I’m sure were written more metaphorically, were about me in such an absurdly literal way that I just had to laugh, other were more metaphorical. I could find descriptions of my relationships with important people in my life in it and things I’ve been through, and pretty much my entire life in a way, but especially my childhood. It feels odd and crazy! And, as always when I find a song that is even somewhat relatable for me in any way, I am still so very curious what inspired Ina to write it, although I believe it was a piece written collaboratively with some other people. While it speaks to me in such an incredible, almost eerie way, I also think that most people are able to find something about themselves in it, as is the case with some songs. I hope you enjoy it anyway. πŸ™‚

Carnival.

Anyone else here hates carnival?

Well anyway, I do. Or used to do, now I don’t have to bother. But yeah I hated it. Oh but how can anyone hate carnival, especially in such country as Poland? It’s such a colourful tradition! Well, maybe I don’t hate carnival in general, there are or used to be some pretty interesting traditions over here relating to it and I always like to read about traditions be them ours or someone else’s, I’m just overall into folklore as you know.

But in my own experience, carnivals had always been yuck. We always had so many parties and balls and proms and discos and dancings or however to call them. We had usuallly one such event at school, one at the girls’ boarding school and one at the boys’ and sometimes also one at the cafe which also was in that centre.

If I’m totally honest, I don’t know exactly what I hated so much about them. Yes it was socially engaging and so challenging for me, but there were way more challenging situations there for me. Dancing is not my element definitely, but I’m not the worst at it and I do dance if I have to when we have some family parties or stuff.It wasn’t that I was left alone and didn’t haveto dance with, if I wanted I’d surely find someone, therewas a time when I was the only girlin the class and my classmates rather liked me as a friend and I did like them.

I guess that just the general atmosphere overwhelmed me. All that crowd and noise, so that even if you came there with someone there were 99% chances you will lose each other in the crowd even if you’re not dancing. And I always hate that feeling of being lonely in the crowd, way more than just being lonely, even if I talk to someone I often feel this way among very many people. And it’s awful.

So I always tried to do everything to avoid those parties. Theoretically, it wasn’t something compulsory to go there, but it wasn’t well seen for someone to stay on their own in the group while everyone else is out, you know, safety and all. And no one actually wanted to avoid them as far as I know, other than me, so it was seen as odd if you did, and you could be more or less pressured to go anyway. At that time I wasn’t assertive enough to just say no, I still am not sure if I would say if it happened to me now, knowing how pressured I’d be anyway, so I rather preferred to find some excuses, which worked sometimes, most often not very creaive stuff like period. When I was very young, I took an advantage of the fuss when they were going out and hid in the shower lol. I was desperate to not go with them, and then I got out when they all went out. As I supposed, no one even noticed I didn’t go, neither the staff, nor any of my group mates. πŸ˜€

One year though I did something particular. We got to know there will be two parties, one at school and one at the cafe, as it was Saturday. It was also my birthday, and I got mad. Why do I have to go to some yucky trashy dancing parties on my birthday if I hate it? Why can’t I do something better? And I was determined to not go, and instead, do something very nice. Well, not going could be potentially possible if I tried, but the latter was quite a brave goal in such a place where you can’t decide much about yourself. But I did it.

Luckily for me, at that time I had a kind of English teacher, well she wasn’t my real English teacher, she was my aunt’s acquaintance and lived in the city nearby my school, and my Mum and aunt introduced us to each other and my aunt had an idea that she – her acquaintance – would come to me while I was at the boarding school, say once a week, so that I could go out of that environment for a while and talk to someone from the outside, normal world and just have fun. We made an excuse that she’ll be teaching me some extra English, and the staff agreed. We didn’t cheat on them, if you’re worried, she did teach me English, but the primary goal was for me to just get out of there and do whatever we liked. We both liked English, so we often did English.

I called my Mum to ask her if she could send me some money, we had them stored by the staff but if our parents wanted they could send some to us too. Luckily they came on time. So I called my aunt’s acquaintance, let’s call her K. and I asked her if she’s free next Saturday because I’d like to invite her to some restaurant in the city for a dinner because it’s my birthday. She said she is and that it is cool, so I told her about those deeper reasons for that so we scheduled our meeting so that I’d be out during both parties. My Mum obviously agreed so the staff couldn’t do anything but agree too.

We went to the Moroccan restaurant and, guys, I guess there was the best food I’ve ever eaten so far. Although it’s possible that my happiness spiced it up even more because I couldn’t believe my luck and that it worked out. πŸ˜€ Anyway, it was one of more happy days I spent there. Or not there actually, as I wasn’t at school practically. πŸ˜€ I hate that city but if I’m gonna be there ever again I’ll surely go to that restaurant again. We had so much fun and we also did other things, but, funnily enough, I don’t remember anything more from that day now, even though it was long and intense. πŸ˜€ I only remember I came back to the boarding school with a huge Toffifee, I don’t remember if I bought it or she got it for me, anyway I was sharing it with my roommates at night.

Sometimes I tried to get someone from my family at that time so we could spend time together and I remember one quite hilarious costume party on which my aunt came to me, she’s crazy and very funny so we, and others, had a lot of laugh.

But other than that, I always hated those parties and still when we have some family parties with dancing or in huge locals, my brain turns upside down. Dunno, maybe I’m just boring, but if not being boring =liking dancing parties, no thanks, I’d rather stay boring, it’s way more interesting. πŸ˜€

How about you? Do you like dancing? πŸ™‚ Have you been to many huge parties with dancing? Do you like carnival?

Remembering… or how to tell your brain it’s over?

I’m remembering

a lot of stuff from the past lately. Lots and lots of memories which I try to ignore, and sometimes I succeed, sometimes not. So I thought maybe writing about it would help, if ignoring doesn’t work out too well. Those memories are mostly related to the beginning of the school year, which used to be an absolute nightmare for over a decade.

I see people from my family and others buying their kids things for school, I hear my Mum talking how she’s afraid of the next schol year for Zofijka, I notice time flying so quickly and September approaching, and each time I see any signs of the school year coming, I have to remind my brain, it’s not you now, it’s over. But it doesn’t listen for too long, and soon I get overflooded by another wave of memories.

I remember all those days and nights before I”d go back to the boarding school when I cut myself ’cause my pain and helplessness were too bad. I remember not being able to eat and sleep because of the anxiety. I remember the feelings of utter loneliness and not belonging anywhere, along with many other overwhelming feelings with which I couldn’t cope, but finally I always had to cope somehow, so I just bottled them up, feeling them rising inside of me with every second. I remember feeling very unsafe and rebelled that I had to leave everything that felt nice, familiar, everything and everyone that I loved, and how desperate I was to not do it. I felt guilty and weak because even though the situation was the same and obvious for so many years, that there was no alternative for me, I still couldn’t adjust to it. Well in a way I did, but the adjustment was only hiding what I felt so it wouldn’t bother anyone else, because well how long can it take you to accept something so obvious and inevitable that if you have special needs and need special education, you need to go to school where they can adjust things to you, and there aren’t many of such so most children have to be away from their families. For me that was an issue, and it looked like it was wrong.

Those feelings always accompanied me when I had to leave home and go to the boarding school, but when the school year was starting, they were particularly intense. Because the school year always meant changes. Changes that could often regard me more or less, but even if they were directly to do with me, it wasn’t a norm that I, or even any of my parents, were asked about our opinion, whether we agree on them or not, whether they’re acceptable. That was normal there. If you had a friend, who was also your roommate, with whom you lived for years, you got to know very well, you should be aware that when you come back to school next year, you may suddenly be informed that you two will no longer live together because… just because. And you could not only be moved to another room, but also to a completely different group. THis exact situation didn’t happen to me, only because I didn’t have real friends there, but it did to one of my classmates and she was just told to get over it, because it was necessary and such situations happen in life so she has to get used to it. I though changed my roommates very often too, and it was often very tough. And many other changes could await you there, hardly, if ever, nice.

So yeah, I was just sick of anxiety every year before the start of school year, and afterwards too.

But it’s now four years since I got out of there, and I am so happy about it, yet each time it’s close to September, my brain goes mad. Even this year, when I’m completely free of that freaky brain washing machine called education system. I even had a pretty yucky dream last night, I haven’t have this kind of memory dreams in a while, but that one was yucky and it took me quite a while to get back to the present after I woke up. Those dreams aren’t particularly scary, like creepy or something, but are just kinda made of my crappy memories so reliving them over and over definitely isn’t nice aND I wake up feeling nausious and stressed out.

As I wrote earlier today in Music Monday Care & Love post, I am trying to fill this week with various self care activities and other enjoyable things, and that helps me to stay in the present and focus on the positive, and there is much positive stuff going on in my life. Plus it helps me to not slip down again to that self-loathing hole, which is always very easy when I’m having memories. But it doesn’t stop my brain from going back to the past, often at least expected moments.

So I wonder, how do you make your brain know it’s over? It seems all so complicated.

 

Disappear.

Oftentimes, I feel the need to just disappear. Even just for a while. Just so that I can have time to set my messy brain in order, and start to function properly, or at least as well as I can, again, to recharge.

When I was living away from home at the boarding school for years, the only place I could go to to have a guarantee I’ll be absolutely alone was… the restroom. Sometimes I was just going there to calm down the chaos of my mind, or just to be alone for a while, but often I did it if I wanted to talk to someone on the phone privately. Of course, I could just wait until there will be a moment when there will be no one else in my bedroom than me, but it was a rare occasion and usually then, I was out too, or was busy, plus, when you really need to talk to someone, you need it just now. So, yeah, usually, when I talked to my Mum, or anyone else from my family, or my therapist, I did it in the loo. I hated it, because the sound echoed there so much and the privacy was minimal because anyone could hear you if they only wanted or if there was quieter outside for a while. But still you had more space than usually in our bedrooms, where there were at least three people living together if not more. Needless to say lots of people often wondered or even asked me what I do so often and for so long in the loo, but I didn’t care and if it was necessary, I was happy to satisfy them with some convincing enough excuses. Later on, I’ve found some other hideouts for myself, where I could just disapear, and feel better afterwards, or just demonstrate my rebellion or frustration by escaping there. I found LD and OOBE very entertaining. And some time later I started to use Doses (sound drugs). I was living half in my own world, made entirely of dreams, imaginings and hallucinations. I loved it there. Only that as it showed later on, there was also a much darker side to that beautiful world, which I tried to ignore. Without going into ethical stuff, as I talked a bit about it before, I can just say it messed up with my brain a little in a longer perspective.

When I got outa there, I was awfully depressed all the time, well I was before too, obviously, but when I got home I fuly realised it because before it happened, I simply didn’t have time to be depressed and I just had to live on. So when I got home and my depression set free, so to say, after so many years of being well hidden, it just struck me with its intensivity. And it was hard to cope with it. So again, I wanted to disappear, hide, run away from my freaky brain. And what I mostly did back then was sleep. Even my sleep paralysis nightmares were sometimes better than my depressed reality.

Now as I got relatively better, I still need to disappear at times. Not only when I’m depressed, but just to stay healthy and recharge my brain from time to time. Well actually I need it quite often, particularly after a lot of stuff happening or a lot of social interactions, doesn’t matter whether good or bad. Then I disappear into another world I’ve created for myself. I don’t always need to be long in there to feel better. Sometimes I just lay down with Misha, very close to him, and listen to all the sounds inside of him, cuddle into his silky fur, feel his little, warm and springy body under my hands. That feels very grounding and soothing. Other times I’ll lock my room, put the headphones on and flow away to Dreamland, a world constructed entirely of my favourite music, and my daydreams. Sometimes I just listen to the music and let my thoughts flow freely, sometimes I only focus on the music and other sensory stuff around me if I want to ground more, sometimes though I go deep into my dreams. I dream about very different things. From those very simple ones to some completely out of my reach, to very exciting ones, to ones that are actually fantastic. Sometimes I dream about stuff I really would like to happen some day, and sometimes about things that I’d rather prefer to stay in Dreamland, so that I can go away from them or come back to them whenever I want. daydreaming feels frustrating sometimes, if you feel like you’ll just never ever be able to make come true any of your dreams, you aren’t even sure if you want it, but most of the time, it feels gorgeous. As Enya sings: “Dreams are more precious than gold” so why not to cherish them? You can always emeerge from the waters of Dreamland if you want to, but you know it’s still there and you can float back there if you only want. And sometimes I listen to music and write something, be it my diary, a blog post, a short story, or just my lose thoughts. And then, I’m able to handle things more effectively. As there are no devices that would be a perpetum mobile, same applies to people. Everyone needs to recharge, and as it is with all kinds of devices, we also vary from each oter and so different rechargers fit us. πŸ˜€

Another time when I want to disapear, and that’s a rather common thing for all of us I guess, is when something triggers my anxiety suddenly. Be it social situations, crowds, some sounds, or speciffic things that always make me anxious and almost or completely freak out. Like yesterday. Since a few days, there was something stinking awfully on our backyard. We had a doghouse on our backyard, although we don’t have a dog nowadays, but the doghouse is still there just in case. And the smell seemed to come from there. Yesterday my Dad was doing stuff around the backyard and finally he just went there to see what it is stinking so horribly. It was just like a carrion smell. So he came closer and here’s what he saw – a dead cat lied wrapped in the cover that previously was our poor dog’s, Bobby’s. My Dad removed it and ran into the house. At the same time I was going downstairs to the kitchen, I wanted to pour myself a glass of orange juice that my Mum made. And I heard him falling in like a storm. I only managed to ask what’s up and then I heard some very scary and disquieting sounds from the bathroom. He was throwing up. I can imagine now how disgusting that view had to be. I wanted to disapear! Run away! Into the kitchen, back to my room, wherever. Wanted to scream so loud that I wouldn’t hear him doing it. But I just froze. And that was the worst thing I could do. I just couldn’t move. Just stood there on the stairs not able to do anything. I could only move when he was done with it. But luckily he was OK afterwards and it was just a single incident.

Are there times when you want to disappear? Do you do it then? Where do you go? What do you do there? πŸ™‚

 

Question of the day.

Do you like picnics? If yes, what would you take on your picnic?

My answer:

Picnics… hmm, in theory, yeah, it sounds nice. But in practice… is it really so cool to have to keep all the possible bugs and insects off your food all the time? Plus I don’t have the best associations with picnics, because all of those in which I’ve taken part took place when I was at the boarding school and I never liked them. Either my group was going with the staff somewhere to have a picnic or a full bivouac and simply have fun, and as I’ve never felt truly like a part of them I never knew what to actually do with myself on such occasions, just didn’t feel well at all at those picnics and I felt like the atmosphere at them is so artificially joyful that it really bothered me and made me literally nauseous. Don’t know whether it really was artificial or not, anyway that was how I felt about it back then. Or there were large events organised for the whole school and called picnics, where lots of people, even famous people were coming and there were lots of things happening. I felt even more like not in the right place at the latter. I think if I could go on a picnic with the company I would really like and felt comfortable around, it could be real fun, but not the first activity I would think about when thinking how to spend time with someone I like. I think I have too much bad experience with picnics to be able to say I like them, and too little experience overall to say I don’t like them at all and that I would never take part in one again if I got a chance.

Question of the day.

Have you ever had to deal with any kind of pests, in your house?

My answer:

In the house we lived in previously, there was a while when we had to deal with mice. And no Misha wasn’t with us yet, and even if he would be, I really doubt he’d be able to hunt mice and do something about it. My room was in the attic and they particularly liked it. It was so that I’ve never had more than one at a time in my room, but after we managed to catch it and put it out of action, soon another mouse replaced it. I am not afraid of mice, but I was quite concerned about it, my Dad didn’t seem to be able to catch them easily, I didn’t know what to actually expect from them, I’ve had a lot of all kinds of wires in my room and was afraid what if they’d bite them or something. Plus they were extremely annoying. They were silent during the day, so that it made it more difficult to find them, and activated at night, maybe weren’t noisy, but still, those weird grates they made were annoying and sometimes wouldn’t let me fall asleep which pissed me off greatly. Sometimes – like when my anxiety was higher or when Dad had to get up for work at night – Mum would sleep in my room on the matress and we both were entertaining ourselves with imaginings what if that mouse would come out and decide to “make friends” with my Mum. She’s generally afraid of such little creatures, more of spiders than mice, but still. Luckily it wasn’t a long period, but it was rather pissing off.

When I was at the boarding school, there were some cockroaches there. I didn’t realise there were cockroaches until I was 8 and when I moved rooms for one of the multiple times I was moving rooms there. I just came back from home, a lot later than usual, it was after 10 PM so actually all the other girls that were already in were in beds and one of the staff had to open the building for me and my parents and she notified me that from now I am no longer in the room I was but in a different one. When I was making my bed in that new room, it was like 12 pm and I was quite surprised when I saw something small and hideous sauntering leisurely on the matress under the coverlet. I had no idea what it is, I just knew it was gross and that I have to get rid of it, so I just grasped it quickly and rushed to the bathroom, crumpled it and threw the stinkard into the loo. Yuck! I remember I washed my hands for about 5 minutes afterwards. No one else was around at that time so that was all I could do. I didn’t know it was a cockroach and I didn’t observe it or wonder what it could be, but so said my Mum when I told her about the situation. I’ve never had another direct meeting with a cockroach there, but lots of other people had and it was an issue. I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with it more, it was quite awful. πŸ˜€ Although my Mum said that if she was me she’d start to scream and wake up everyone, so I guess it could be much worse for some people.

How about your experiences? πŸ˜€

Question of the day.

How often did you play outside as a child?

My answer:

Not like very often. I’ve never had good orientation in open spaces plus I’ve learnt to walk pretty late in comparison to most children, and my interests were more indoor-oriented, I’d say. My brother played outside constantly with his cousin, but their things didn’t interest me at all and I never played with them. When I went to the nursery we were often going out to the playground

which was very near. As far as I can remember it was almost every day and it was always extremely boring for me. Children were usually playing on carousels or slides or other stuff like that, which I didn’t like at all because it usually messed up with my already messed up balance and made me dizzy and nauseous extremely easily and I’m still just allergic to such things, probably also because people from the staff were always so very astonished and like it’s not normal I don’t like these things, it made me hate them even more. πŸ˜€ So usually I was either vegetating on some milder swing and just waiting for them to finish, or just walking around aimlessly or talking with the staff. When I started going to school they still liked it a lot to go to the playground and we did it often, but then at least I could bring something to read with myself, although it was still boring to just sit there doing practically nothing. When Zofijka was born and grew up a bit, so I was like in my early teens, I liked to play with her outside and it was really fun, although we didn’t do it often.

A shitty, Zombie day.

Yeah, today I have another Zombie day, which means, if you’re unfamiliar, that I’m after a night of completely no sleep. I think the reason of my sleep being so poor recently is that I’m significantly anxious over many things. A bit more than a week ago my term exam session started, which is always some stress – almost none in comparison to final exams that I’ll have in May, but still, makes me quite tense. Besides, almost at the same time my brother picked up some tummy bug or something and was sick, with vomiting and all the attractions, which obviously triggered my emetophobia. It lasted for very long for him and then Dad got infected too and it lasted very long too, so I was freaking out literally, because they were sick and because I could get sick and anyone else could. I didn’t get it luckily, but still don’t fully know if it’s actually over for them. Moreover, my Mum had gastroscopy and colonoscopy on Tuesday before Easter. Well it didn’t regard me directly, but still it made me feel anxious for some reason, I almost felt like I myself was going to have gastroscopy, which would be just traumatic for me I guess and I was stressed for Mum. Don’t know why I reacted so strongly for it. And then Mum had also some not serious complications after that which contributed to my anxiety. It’s crazy. and my final exams are in a month now, which is the thing I’m most anxious about currently. It’s not only about the exams themselves and whether I’ll pass them, but also about the circumstances in which I’ll be writing them. I’m not sure whether I finally told you or not, I guess I did, but I won’t take them at my own school that I formally go to. My school is a normal, mainstream school and my Mum was kind of afraid I might not get all the adjustments I could get if I’d write at a special school for the blind, especially as for math, as this is the subject I particularly suck at and is very difficult for me. I agree with it and so my Mum came up with the idea she’ll ask the headmistress of one of the schools for the blind – not the one I was going to as a child, a completely different one – if it would be possible for me to write there. There was a lot of paperwork and other stuff involved, but it was possible and I got the permission finally. But this school, although is much closer than the one I was going to, is still quite far from where I live, in a different region. So we would have to stay in the boarding school. I know, I won’t be there on my own, there will be Mum and maybe Zofijka with me, I will live with them and the circumstances will be completely different, we’ll be out of there most of the time, I desperately try to think rationally about it, but the anxiety is still there. I know it’s so irrational and stupid and all, but it doesn’t seem like I could do much about it now. I’ll probably just have to face it and see if it was worth all that anxiety or not. Also, I’m having lots of nasty dreams recently, with sleep paralysis and without and they scare me so so much. Just last week I had sleep paralysis twice. It’s knackering and makes me feel just helpless. Often such dreams leave me anxious for hours after they pass away. So yeah plenty of issues that may contribute to that lack of sleep.

Luckily I didn’t have to do anything important today, apart from preparing to my History exam which I’ll have on Monday, but it wasn’t hard to do and I actually could do it tomorrow as well if I really needed. I feel absolutely crappy today, with no energy (despite three strong coffees), lots of anxiety and depression, but that’s normal I guess for everyone who didn’t sleep for an entire night, or at least it’s my normal when I don’t sleep properly, the more tat other things get in the way.

Recently I was writing that I plan on buying a new Braille-Sense, and it turned out that it’s time now for applying for funding, so I did some of that endless paperwork with Mum. Well I guess don’t have much more to say now. Just had to rant a bit.

How are you guys doing? πŸ™‚

Question of the day.

Was it easy for you to learn to read, or was it difficult?

My answer:

Apparently, when one of the staff at my nursery showed Mum how I’m going to read and write, she felt it’s impossible for me to achieve it. She already knew I have issues with coordination and sensory integration and she thought it would be just impossible for me to manage it. However, that turned out not being true at all. Although my coordination and sensory integration still is poor, and I mean actually very poor, it went relatively easy. At the beginning, I had a period when I didn’t like to read, it was just very exhausting for me and boring and all. But it changed very quickly and suddenly when I started to make some real progress, I started to love reading. And I learnt it very quickly. I remember my class teacher was making some additional readings for me, I know they were about a boy named Jacek and a girl named Fifi (I asked her to write about them for me, I don’t know why I came up with Fifi though). And I remember that one of them was about Jacek breaking his leg and walking with crutches, the scenario was also mine. πŸ˜€ I loved these readings so much and they were much better than what we had in our text books. Back then I was able to only read in Braille, I wasnn’t very familiar with technologies in early primary school as I had to teach myself about them, so I didn’t have anything to read at home and that was the only thing I really disliked about being at home, because I quickly realised that life without books is quite boring. So my poor Mum was desperately looking for some libraries or other stuff around our voivodeship (voivodeship is like a Polish province), but it didn’t help that much, so finally she signed me up for the Central Library for the blind and they always sent me just literally packages of books. It was quite an interesting view for our neighbours πŸ˜€ (keep in mind that Braille books are always larger than standard ones) and they were wondering why we get such an extensive mail all the time. Sometimes Mum sent me some books to the boarding school, but it didn’t work out practically. I also used to steal some old books from the attic. πŸ˜€ Things got more severe when I left the boarding school for two years for the integration school, I couldn’t cope emotionally at the boarding as you probably already know, so we thought maybe integration school will work out for me. At this time I had a legs surgery and I was rather immobile for months afterwards and, besides it being awful overall, it was also just so incredibly boring, so the only constructive thing I actually could do and enjoy was reading. I was literally able to devour anything readable, now I’m much more fastidious. πŸ˜€

How about your experiences? πŸ™‚

Question of the day.

Today, my question for you is:

When did you start learning to read?

My answer:

I was prepared to it long before I actually started to learn to read, it started sometime when I was in the nursery. They basically prepared us how to read Braille, using different things that imited how it works and we were taught how to use, but not to write yet, different Braillers, it was more of a play than actual learning though, we didn’t actually know why are we doing this. Well I was actually interested why because it seemed boring for me and a bit pointless when I was 6 yeas old or so. And there even is a film about us, I mean our nursery and I was going to it when it was filmed, and they filmed me doing all that stuff with one of the staff’s assistance and all of the sudden I asked her “Why am I doing this?” Everyone who was around then or watched it found it very funny, but actually, I think it’s very important to have some sense behind what you’re doing, isn’t it? πŸ˜€ And she answered that it is because it’ll help me to read in future and that I will read lots of fairytales and all and she thinks I will love to read books and maybe write my own lol. And it all came true more or less and my family is making laugh of her that she was a prophetess, I even read fairytales pretty often to this day. πŸ˜€ So yeah, that was about my reading preparations and then I went to the reception and it was then I started to read. I really liked to learn it and truly always looked forward to learn new letters, I considered it a lot of fun. That was when I was 7-8, I know normally reception is earlier, but I went to the nursery when I was five, I don’t think it would do me much better if I went earlier, plus most of children there were even older than me. SO it was rather late on. I remember that we went to the library with our class teacher and were drawing books for ourselves and the one I drew and that was my first longer read was “God And Mouse” by Angela Toigo. It was rather boring, at least so I thought then, but I think my opinion wouldn’t change that much if I’d read it now, although I read it in one afternoon.

When did it all start for you? πŸ™‚

Question of the day.

When you are with your family, immediate, or extended, do you feel like you belong?

My answer:

That’s a hard one. I’ve always had issues with that sense of belonging thing, for two reasons I think. First is related to my being far from my family for most of my childhood. I am actually just starting to understand these things about myself and didn’t fully realise it all even a year ago. When I was at the boarding school, I felt like I don’t belong there at all, but that if I belong anywhere, I belong only to my family. I think I had a strong sense of… hm, distinctiveness? individuality, don’t really know how to call it best in English, anyway my Dad has it very strong in his character and looks like we all, his children, have too, and my Mum has it as well. I’ve always felt like I’m an individualist and was glad with it and I always needed to have some private, just my own territory where no one else would interfere, which was almost impossible at that boarding school, especially at the beginning when we all (girls from my group) lived together in one room. Our staff always wanted us to talk about everything (including our feelings) with everyone and wanted us to feel the sense of unity with the others, share as much common as possible, they kept saying we’re “like a family”. I think it was with good intentions, but then it only was making me more and more rebellious and the more I’ve heard about all that unity, commonness and “togetherness” the more I hated everything about these words and the more I felt like vomiting whenever I heard them. I liked most of the girls in my group, but, no, thanks, I already have my family and I don’t need another one, I don’t feel close enough with them, that was more or less how I thought about it. So yeah the only community that I felt like I belong to was my family. But then when I was coming home, I was treated like a guest by everyone, and felt like one in some way, it was usually like a big holiday for all of us and I didn’t get that much of normal, everyday family life, besides longer holidays or stuff like that, and the two years in between my stay at the boarding school when I was experimenting going to integration school which didn’t work out in my a bit complex case. It was impossible to catch up on everything that happened during my absence so I didn’t know about many things and in some way felt like a stranger and had an impression that some people in my family perceive me a bit this way too, not in a bad sense like that I wasn’t welcome, but my life was just so different from theirs, you know. And then I was going back to school and had obviously very idealised picture of my family and of family in general and experienced a lot of this hiraeth feeling I described like a month ago or so. So as I grew up I gradually realised that actually I don’t feel anywhere like I’m at home. I mean, I loved coming home obviously and always was willing anything possible to stay longer here, but quite a bit of the sense of belonging to my family has disappeared with time. Btw I suppose that’s one of the reasons why I like Cornelis Vreeswijk so much, one of my musical crushes whom I mentioned already a few times. He was Dutch, but emigrated to Sweden at 12 with his family and lived and created his music and poetry there for most of his life and became famous in Sweden. When he was in the Netherlands, Nederlenders called him a Swede, while in Sweden he was Dutch, hence in one of his poems he called himself “a man (…) without motherland”. You know, birds of a feather flock together, right? Just my a bit detached reflection. I think there are many people who experience such feelings for their entire lives though, due to various situations.

And the second reason is that for almost all my life I’ve felt more or less inadequate to other people, or like I couldn’t connect with them, which can be at times quite frustrating and can make you feel like you belong hardly anywhere. My anxiety in social situations also gets in the way so it makes for quite an interesting mix.

These feelings have lessened in regard to my family as I am enjoying my life with them since more than three years now, although they are still present somewhere in my mind.

Like I’ve never developed a normal sibling relationship with my brother and we have hardly anything in common to talk about, which is so weird and uncomfortable for me, because he is only younger two years than me while with Zofijka who is ten years younger, I have plenty of things to talk about and we have a very close relationship, though also very dynamic, as we are so different and getting on each other’s nerves, as siblings usually do. I still have these feelings of not belonging sometimes when we all are together, but overall I think now I feel much more in place in my immediate family.

It’s worse with my extended. It’s hard for me to open up to them, there are so many of them and I know they all like me and I like them, but… all the holidays and stuff when we gather as a whole family are quite overwhelming for me, especially with my Dad’s family. I get on better with my Mum’s family, probably because we lived very close to them before we moved a year ago to where we live now, so I was seeing them much more often, and I just have more things in common with them, I feel. But it’s also improving and when my family and I are somewhere where there are more people who aren’t my family members, I feel like I belong and am a part of my family. And I am always proud of my family as a whole and of all the people of my immediate family as individuals and I think I’m very lucky for having the family I have. I am also gradually learning that although you’ll be always alone in some way as my Mum says, this is a really good thing if you belong somewhere because of your own choice, or because you’re emotionally attached to the community you’re a part of. and I am a part, and I feel like I’m one, of some other communities than my family, and I am very glad I belong to them and now I know it is so great to have something in common with other people.

How about your sense of belonging? I must say I’m interested about how it is with other people and do they always feel like they belong even if they didn’t have such or similar experiences to mine. πŸ™‚

Question of the day.

Are you still friends with your childhood friends? Did you have many friends in childhood?

My answer:

No, definitely not. I was rather liked I suppose and had some people that I called friends deluded myself they were, but truly nothing strong enough could connect us so that we could be real friends. So although I was rather liked, I didn’t have any true friends I think, I considered my Mum as my best friend when I was a little girl and actually I still think so more or less. One of the girls I considered my friend in childhood and who also considered me one of her friends wanted to stay friends after I left the school and wanted to contact me online or on the phone as often as possible, I’d say she desperately wanted. I felt bad for that for some time, but I had to quit this relationship, which happened pretty recently. I was rather overwhelmed by the amounts of her messages, her egocentrism (I don’t know why I didn’t notice how high it is before) and how she still wanted something from me and took everything people did for her pretty much for granted. Maybe if I really felt connected to her and had some sense of common ground with her, maybe then I wouldn’t mind so frequent contact with her and wouldn’t feel like she doesn’t respect my privacy, also it’s not like I don’t like to help people, I do, but relationship with her was simply exhausting and I didn’t feel any advantages iofit for me, and I think if we are talking about friendship, both sides should have some benefits from it, even if for one or both sides it’s only simply satisfaction of being with that other person and helping her. I didn’t feel satisfied. And so I quit it. A bit radically maybe. But I don’t regret it. IN fact I feel much freer. I hope she didn’t suffer too much, I don’t wish her it definitely, but somehow I don’t think so.

How about your childhood friends? πŸ™‚

Question of the day.

If you could know the absolute and total truth to one question, what question would you ask?

My answer:

First thought I had – is there really any afterlife after we die? This may seem strange since I’m a practicing Christian so should be sure that there is, and I believe in it, but I suppose everyone of us, no matter what we believe in or if we don’t believe in the existence of any God, ask it sometimes, ’cause many of us would like to be sure. Is it all true or is it just a bullshit and we will just die and nothing will happen afterwards? That’s interesting. DO you guys ask yourselves this question sometimes too? But then I had another thought and I think I would prefer to get answer for this one, as I wonder really often about that and sometimes get quite frustrated about it:

Why actually was it so hard for me to go through that long period of time when I was at the boarding school? Or maybe not why it was so hard, but why did it affect me, my emotions and my mental health so much? Why I felt like it was so challenging if I wasn’t abused there, besides one year when I was emotionally abused by some of the staff, but then it finished. Why did I have such big issues with adapting there and why was it so overwhelming in so many different ways, for so many different reasons? Did other kids feel it too, but they were such great actors that I didn’t notice anything? They had to be really great, because I think I’m pretty good at “feeling” other people and I always thought they are happy there, well as happy as kids may be when they aren’t with their families. I know only one girl who I know that reacted to being there like me and ended up with generaised anxiety. Luckily she was much younger than me when people started to see what’s going on and it was my Mum who told her mum that she should take her home. Her issues looked very familiar for me. Is it the matter of high sensitivity? Coincidence of too many hard things put together? Emotional weakness? My Mum thinks so, but then why do a few other people said they think I’m strong? Is actually such thing like emotional strength a thing that can be objectively measured? Or maybe I was already freaky when I got there? Would I struggle less nowadays with my mental health if I wouldn’t go there? Or maybe I wouldn’t struggle at all? Why I am so afraid of processing my emotions and reacting so weirdly, emotionally and physically, to different, apparently normal stuff that all the other people are indifferent about and don’t think much about?

Well it is certainly more than one question. πŸ˜€ But it’s all swirling around one thing, so I look at it as one, big question. It all really makes me wonder.

What would be your questions. πŸ™‚

A quick update.

I didn’t write anything about my life for quite a while, recently I feel like I’m behind everything, so decided to do it quickly today as I have a bit of free time on my hands.

So I’m back in the routine since last week, my winter break has finished and all goes relatively well. Besides being busy with school, my languages, family life and other stuff, last week I also went to the OM doctor. I think I didn’t mention yet that I am working since about two years in my Dad’s company as an office worker. My Dad is a tank driver and delivers fuel. I don’t do much and it’s surely nothing like the job of my dreams, but I can earn some money which I can save for the future or spend for some things just for myself which I really appreciate and I think I’m lucky I’m in such situation. I suppose lots of disabled people would love to have such a start in life, no matter what they’d do next. So obviously I need to go to the OM doc every year, I had my bloods taken and other things like that and then I talked to him. At some point he wanted to measure my blood pressure, he took my arm and was very astonished why my skin is so dry. Actually, I was astonished too, because I never really thought it was dry. I do have hypothyroidism, but I always thought that, especially as for a person with hypothyroidism, my skin is definitely OK. So I told him I have thyroid issues and maybe it’s about that, but he said he doesn’t think so. My Mum, who was in there with me, was astonished too. He asked her if it feels like her skin is dry. She said that no, absolutely not. We both were actually convinced our skin is very smooth. But he asked her to show him her arm and he said that it is dry. So that amazed us even more, like I didn’t know whether to actually believe him. And he said he’s a dermatologist, besides being an OM doc and we could make an appt with him as a dermatologist if we wanted to. So then I told him that although I’ve never thought about myself as having any bigger skin issues, recently I have often pretty disturbed sleep because of being very itchy at night and Mum said the same is with her, which I already knew about. So he told us there is apparently a genetic condition and when you have it, your skin tends to be dry and the problem increases in winter when you have the heating on or if you stay in air conditioned rooms for long periods of time. I surely am not in air conditioned rooms often, but obviously we do have heating on now when it’s winter and that itchiness occured in me very recently. He also said you can have skin infections frequently, can feel more itchy while having shower or when you’re stressed and that’s exactly what me and Mum experience from some time. So we decided we’ll book an appointment with him. I’ll have it tomorrow. I’m interested what he’ll tell me and what’s this condition, I’ve never heard of it. Sometime ago I wrote about the infection I’m having on my leg and maybe that’s why it’s occurring. So I will show it to him and maybe he’ll have any idea what to do with it, as I definitely don’t want to have it again and want to heal it as quickly as possible, I want to be able to horse ride again, but it’s too painful right now so I wouldn’t have any pleasure of it. So that’s it about my appointment.

As for other things, I finally got accepted to write my final exams in the school for the blind and not the school I’m attending to. My school is a mainstream school and it would be hard for them to technically adapt the exams for me and I would feel challenged and both me and my Mum think like I’d have quite a lot of additional stress while I’ll be already stressed out just with exams, so I’m glad I don’t have to worry about technical stuff now.

The only thing I am worrying about in this case (besides passing the exams of course) is that there is a boarding school as well. While having exams, me and my Mum will most likely have to stay there. It’s not the boarding school I was in, it’s a completely different school and I will stay there with Mum and Zofijka, but I feel kind of stressed about that. I feel like it can be a bit triggering. And I feel weird admitting that actually. I know it’s another school, other circumstances, but seems like my brain doesn’t know that. And that makes me wonder whether if simply staying in the surroundings resembling my school, where I didn’t feel well emotionally, makes me so anxious, even if the circumstances will be completely different, whether it means I have some more trauma around that or what… It makes me feel really weird, it was a really hard time for me, being there, lots of hard stuff, but I wasn’t abused there, well there was a time when I experienced emotional abuse from the staff, but my Mum realised what’s going on and it stopped reoccuring. But other than that, nothing really dramatic happened, no one did any harm to me at least not consciously. So I would really like to know what it’s all about. And, actually, that isn’t the first time and situation in which I’m wondering about it. Am I more traumatised than I think, or just so horrribly emotionally weak? I don’t know if it makes sense for you, I’m not even sure if it makes sense for me so… well it’s just so strange. πŸ˜€ But there’s still some time until May, so hopefully I’ll be able to pick myself together a bit until then. I didn’t talk abaout it with my Mum, but I talked briefly with my Dad. Not about my emotions around that, but just asked him if he would be able and if he would like to go there with us. Because if he could, it would be easier to move around and I know that my Mum would prefer it too, then we could stay somewhere else outside the school. But his work hours are very unpredictable so he didn’t tell me anything in particular and I know he would be bored to death there even if he wouldn’t have to work, so my question was actually rather theoretic.

And the last thing I would like to mention about is that last week I got a wonderful gift from my Maths tutor. She is a typhlopedagogist and surdopedagogist and because I am learning on my own outside of school, just at home, but having trouble with Maths, I have lessons with her two days a week and she explains stuff for me. She is also helping Zofijka with her Maths, although Zofijka goes to school regularly and doesn’t have any special needs, but has issues with Maths and it’s just easier to pay for one tutor than for two. And Zofijka is absolutely fascinated by her. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is, last week on Tuesday, when she came to us she had three large boxes of gem stones for me! I was so excited and I really appreciated the fact she remembered that I collect gem stones. After all she’s only my tutor, but she’s really involved and helpful. Some time ago we chatted after the lesson and she saw my huge collection and I told her a bit about it and showed her many of my stones and she mentioned her brother was collecting gem stones and other minerals when he was younger and now no one cares about them so she brought them to me. And there are a few pretty rare minerals, some which I looked for and couldn’t find anywhere, so, yeah, I was extatic. πŸ˜€

Today I’m having a really peaceful day finally which I really appreciate. I spent a lot of time with my Mum. Zofijka has sinus infection so she’s still at home and we played a lot. And although I had lots of weird and sometimes scary dreams recently, I feel really well today.

How is it going for you guys? πŸ™‚

Stifle *long post*

Sorry, it might be a bit chaotic. I rarely open up so much to people so I got a bit emotional.Β Β Β  Also very sorry for being so late with this prompt, I actuallly wrote it much earlier, but the URL I inserted was wrong.

Some triggers might be possible.
So today, thanks to Daily Post, as a non native English speaker, I’ve learnt a new great word, which is stifle. I am a lover of words in all “my” languages, so yay I’m happy.
So because of this, I wanted to share with you my coping with life strategy, which I’ve learnt during my time in boarding school and now trying to unlearn. I hope it will help someone with similar experiences, as well as myself. This “coping strategy” is as you can guess, stifling them. Why I was doing it?
First of all I think that because I am an introvert, I have always had a tendency to do it. My Dad is a professional kind of stifler and has been one as long as I can remember, but not as professional as me. But since I went to boarding school, I quickly started to have a feeling, that my emotions aren’t really valid. I don’t know if anyone thought so, but that was just how I felt. I didn’t feel good there for many reasons and it was always a nightmare for me to go back there. I know that most of the kids didn’t felt it like this. Sure, not all of them liked school, most kids don’t, they surely missed their families, but noone seemed to have it all to such a degree and to have such issues with adapting there. I was having these issues for all the time I was there. I know only one girl who had it similar to me, luckily her mum noticed it quickly and took her from there in primary. So generally I felt much like an alien, to whom no one can really relate. I felt incredibly weak and hypersensitive because I couldn’t deal with things normal kids dealt without a bigger trouble and, besides some obvious homesickness and other stuff like that, liked it there. Plus I was always kind of individualistic, so didn’t blend in well in the surroundings, while blending with the surroundings was very well-seen there. I know people, both the staff and the kids, thought it is strange that I have other interests than the majority and often prefer just to be alone than in the crowd of people.
In first few years I tended to talk to my Mum in details how I feel and how lonely and stressed etc. I feel all the time, but one day I realised that one of the staff is listening very carefully to what I talk to her about. She came to me then and told me with quite a particular tone in her voice: “You know, if you have a problem, with feelings or something, we can always discuss it on the meeting”. They had group meetings almost every evening there, so girls from a particular group met with their staff and either read something, or discussed things etc.
Maybe I am weird, but I didn’t feel very reassured by that. I needed time to trust people to share my feelings with them. I needed at least some proof that they are really involved. I didn’t want my deepest feelings to be “discussed” by everyone publicly. The more that I just knew they couldn’t understand me, even if they genuinely would like.
So my reaction was a silent rebellion. I thought that NO – from now on, noone will have access to my feelings. I am not a book, to read my emotions and “discuss” and maybe even review if they are “positive” or “negative”. I need to protect myself. I need to have at least some space for myself and this space will be my feelings, which will be just my own, noone else’s.
And you know what? I didn’t even really had to try in any special way to stifle everything. As I now remember it, I feel like it was just I had this outburst of anger and silent rebellion one evening and woke up with a marble mask all over me.
I also stopped to confide to my Mum, firstly because I was now more conscious that walls have ears, but also because I knew she’s worried. I knew from other people that when she’s coming back home after leaving me at school, she’s crying in the car and then at home sometimes too. Since those days I was always feeling guilty whenever I was talking to her about some more complicated stuff that is going on in my life or even just in my head or even if I just noticed a sign of worry in her and suspected it might be because of me.
Teachers, boarding school staff and some kids I was relatively close to, like my roommates, started to see the change relatively late. I tried to not change my attitude totally. On the outside, when I chose to be with other kids, I tried my best to be humourous, likeable, interesting, but as distanced as it was possible at the same time. I had trouble suppressing such emotions like joy or fascination, but never showed up any so called negative, especially, NEVER EVER, anger. With time, I decided to open up just a bit to one of my roommates, as we liked each other quite much and thought we are best friends. Or maybe we both just pretended to be ones, I don’t know. It wasn’t about my feelings regarding boarding school and that stuff though, but anyway, then I felt quite a big regret that I did it, it turned out to not be the right thing to do. But then I’ve bottled up quite a lot of it and, very rarely, from time to time, like once a year maybe, or twice, I started to have quite impressive meltdowns. Like all the anger, all the tears were coming out of me for little to no reason. And people were like… quite astonished. I was too. ‘Cause even before I started to stifle everything, I was rather calm. It felt like it’s not me. While in fact I was having a meltdown, yelling at people, making everything around fly all over the room, and crying, or having hysteria, I felt like I am standing beside and looking without many more emotions than just astonishment. I was just like: “Oh wow! Is this me?”. The next day I was scared though. Most often I didn’t even remember that much of a meltdown itself, but only thinking about not having control at all over your actions… it’s still quite frightening for me. And I felt exactly like I couldn’t gain any control during such meltdowns. It just had to leave me on its own, I couldn’t really help and stop it.
So then one of the staff started to think something must be really much more wrong with me than she always have thought before and talked to my Mum. But, although I didn’t put off my marble-icy mask at home totally, I was a bit more at ease and spontaneous, and didn’t have any meltdowns at all, so she didn’t see anything concerning and actually didn’t really believe in what that lady told her.
But she did notice some things soon and started to think about some alternative for me, I mean, alternative school.
And so for two years, at the age of 10 and 11, I was going to an integration school, much closer to my home, well not that close really, but it made a huge difference for me because I could be at home everyday after school and felt like I am incredibly lucky. I was always jealous about kids in such situation.
So it was better, but my attitude didn’t change, I actually even forgot about what I told myself about protecting myself and not giving other people access to my emotions, it just was going on its own now. I had to remind it to myself a few years ago. So the problem wasn’t really solved. All those emotions seemed to sit with me, and although I felt lucky and grateful that I am at home, I didn’t feel really happy.
I had neurosis, different psychosomatic symptoms like migraines or nausea or other crappy stuff, suicidal thoughts, everything felt very overwhelming, like any activity I had to do craved a lot of motivation, which I actually didn’t have, I was constantly depressed, anxious. It was then when I started to have symptoms of emetophobia and other speciffic phobias, although I really can’t recall any particular event that could trigger it, I just started to be more and more afraid of this and that even if I previously wasn’t and soon it became just a very strong anxiety, hard to deal on a daily basis.
After those two years, something happened, that’s another long story, anyway my Mum and me realised that I need to change school again. And, looking at things practically, there weren’t many more reasonable options for me than going back to that boarding school for the blind. I saw it too. My Mum knew that it would crave a lot of strength from me to come back there again, so to encourage me more she said she’ll do her best to make my biggest dream come true if I’ll be strong enough to come there again. Which she did a few years later. So yeah I decided to go there and burn myself all over once again. After all we live in the civilised world and everyone needs to have some education, I wanted to have it too, it’s not that I didn’t.
After the break it was even more hard. During my two years outside of that environment I was even more different, gained some strange interests and fears.
So it all clicked in the mind of that lady who talked to my Mum about me not expressing feelings and what she got of it is she started to think I must be on autistic spectrum.
So again she alarmed my Mum and talked it through with her. My Mum was frightened. Literally.
I needed to go back to school during summer holidays because they wanted to examine me for Asperger’s. I was twelve then so they didn’t really discussed it all with me before, I just got to know I will be examined in July and there will be some professionals from an autism centre. But, I was a very curious child. I liked to learn new things, I liked to observe the world and for some reason, especially people’s behaviours and personalities, in as big degree as it could be possible for a blind child. And also I was starting to be very interested in psychology and medicine. In our school, there were many kids on autism spectrum. Most of them were rather very low-functioning, some were Aspies. And I liked to observe them all and their behaviours too. Most of them seemed quite weird for me, but I could even relate to some. Like their aversion to changes for instance. Also when I was living at home, I listened to a radio programme where a lady from this exact autism centre was speaking about Asperger’s syndrome. So although they didn’t literally tell me who will examine me and what is ther job in general, as soon as I heard the name of the centre, I started to have a bit of a clue what’s going on.
I tink it was a bit unhonest of them to not tell me what they actually want to do and what they are concerned about. I know I was just a kid and kids shouldn’t know everything what is talked about them, but… it made me really worried. I started to feel even more abnormal and not validated at all. So I hid even more. The thing I remembered the best about ASD was that people with it tend to have interests, which were rather rare and tend to be extremely good at any particular thing. A bit stereotypical maybe, but that was what they said in that programme and it caught my attention, as it fit me in some way. I always felt quite uncommon because of my interests. And that thing with changes and adaptivity… I was wondering about it all the time. It wasn’t that I was afraid about having Asperger’s… well, probably I was, getting a diagnosis is most often a bit anxiety provoking for people and I’m sure I wouldn’t be an exception. But I am sure I could accept it. It is more about the fact that because of how different I am, they wanted to proof me how unhealthy and abnormal it is. That I don’t have the right to be different. My Mum said it was because that staff was so caring about me, but didn’t I hear all comments, of hers and many others, about how I should change and be like the others? “ALl the kids do this, why don’t you?”. Things like that. I am not sure whether it can make sense for anyone else like me, but that’s simply how I feel.
But even when finally that day came and the lady from the autism centre came to examine me, noone told me what’s going on.
She was all smiles and sweetness and told me she wants to make “an interview” with me.
I don’t really remember what she asked me about, I was very stressed out and hypervigilant all day long then. So “the interview” was finally over and I still hadn’t have an idea what was going on. It was driving me just soo crrrazy.
So I couldn’t stand it any longer in the evening. I went out with my Mum, I wanted to be as far as possible from the school building, so we went for a walk and I asked her quite directly as for me what they suppose to be wrong with me. Am I mental or what?
So finally someone had mercy and told me that they suspect me to have Asperger’s.
Even though it was one of things I expected to hear, it was a massive shock to me and it was hard for me to not show it.
The next day I had some other tests and stuff and then the lady who did all these fascinating interviews with me said she sees that I might have autistic traits, but all that I show isn’t enough to put me on to autistic spectrum. Then she was clearing things up for my Mum and me. That very many people show autistic traits, but they aren’t on the spectrum etc. bla bla bla, as far as I can remember she even said there is a connection with blindness and autism, so there’s like higher risk or something. Actually I know that as a little child, before 6 years old I think, I had much more autistic or autism-like symptoms. Like sensorisms or being easily overstimulated and others. She also said laughing that my interests are too many to look like in typical autistic person and that although most of them are not typical, they are quite wide actually. Which I now agree with. She also talked with my Mum and the lady from the boarding school, who still expressed some doubts about the outcome of the interviews.
The lady from the autism centre told me some things that helped me to realise at least a bit that things I feel, fear, enjoy are more valid than I think.
After some time though the staff from boarding school decided to make one more test. They didn’t even tell my Mum about it only when it was already done. They took me to a psychological clinic where one very cold and self-confident lady wanted to talk to me.
The school staff had to tell her about my love for writing, I enjoyed writing fictional short stories back then very much.
They were about a little creature I’ve made up. I called him Parpill. And he had different adventures. Most often quite childish, but also some maybe a bit peculiar, like when he was in prison. πŸ˜€ Some were horrific a bit, like when his whole family got sick with malaria, but nothing too bad, just things most children in their early teens wouldn’t come up with. πŸ˜€ My Art teacher helped me to project him. Her husband worked in a printing house so she got me some so called professional paper and booklets and she herself ilustrated my short stories whenever she had some free time and wrote them in normal print after I wrote it in Braille. I really really enjoyed doing it with her. Now I have a whole series of my Parpills books at home and I am proud of them although they are very childish, but that’s obvious I guess.
So to my big surprise, that cold lady from the clinic, after some very basic questions, asked me straight away: “You write about the Parpills, right?”. “Yes I do”. “You believe they exist?”. “Errm… sorry, what do you mean?” “Do Parpills exist?” “Surely not! Why would they? They are my own creatures created by me, I wouldn’t like them to exist, everyone could see them then and knwo everything about them” “But do you see them?” “No I can’t see obviously and they don’t exist”. That’s of course not the exact dialogue, only some bits I remember now, some more ridiculous ones. Basically she insisted I do see my Parpills and I live in my imaginary world and I should be more in the reality. So she told me that if I want to write anything, I would do much better if I’d write about our everyday life in the group.
You know guys, she couldn’t say something more wrong to me. I think that then my individualism was maybe even a bit too much expressed, but as for the circumstances and my age it isn’t a big wonder for me. But what I want to say is that I hated to think about myself as “a part of the group”, or class, or as an element of pretty much any community besides my family.
If you have any doubts yet, I obviously didn’t write anything about the group. But I also didn’t write anything about Parpill since then.
I don’t know when they told my Mum about that appointment, but I got to know everything about it years afterwards. I had already left that school and talked to my Mum about it. She told me they wanted to diagnose me with schizophrenia. And it’s still difficult for me to believe in it. Cuz… why? Or maybe Parpills really exist but I am schizophrenic because I deny it and claim I created them? Freaky world. I don’t get it anyway. Mum said that she was very irritated by that when the staff told her about what they did and she didn’t believe it either. So they kept apologising her and that they thought so because of me being so withdrawn and “overly imaginative” and because of the anxiety and that they know they did wrong and that psychologist was wrong as well, they know I don’t believe in Parpills.
Now as I think about it more, I am laughing, with some frustration, but laughing, but it really wasn’t fun when I got to know all that from my Mum, especially that I was in quite a crisis then even besides it.
Then they stopped with making up diagnoses for me, luckily. I am interested what would be their next pick. πŸ˜€
But my emotional issues stayed with me and sharpened. At the age of 15-ish I started to self harm. I didn’t have any meltdowns any longer. I cut myself and relished physical pain because it let me run away from all the MishMash inside me. Plus I could proof myself I am strong, at least with pain, if not mentally. It has always been my kind of complex, that I am not enough strong mentally, ’cause I haven’t dealt well enough with all that I had to deal. I also burned myself. But I didn’t want my scars to be visible, like it wasn’t because I wanted attention. I just wanted to manage it somehow. And i made myself ill on purpose, either to just be left alone and not need to do anything, as I was very depressed and even things like getting dressed were like huge challenges, or because I wanted home/not go back to school, or just for to self harm and maybe even die, accidentally, it wouldn’t be that bad. So I did things like walking barefoot on the snow on our terrace to go to school. Yes I know, really crazy things. I wasn’t very suicidal like hadn’t suicidal ideations, but often thought how nice it would be to just die and not exist.
I used I-doses. For those of you who don’t know what Idoser and Doses are, Idoser is an app and Doses are binaural sounds used with that app, that impact your brain like drugs do. They say they’re not addictive, but they make damage to the brain. I didn’t know it at first, I just wanted to use them to have some relief and also it was my way of rebellion. My school was religious, I started to be a Goth and turned myself back from God. I believed in Emilie Autumn instead lol. And wanted to be Wiccan. I didn’t realise that I am also worrying my family, who are genuinely and deeply religious. You can’t use drugs in school area. But I felt smarter than their rules. I was doing it. And no one, besides a few girls of my group and a few classmates with whom I shared some Doses, didn’t know anything.
And I practiced things like OOBE, LD and stuff, which seemed to give me some relief at first, but complicated things even more with time. And I think now that they also contributed to that my sleep is even worse and that I have sleep paralysis regularly. My Mum thinks so too.
After some time eople started to see that I do really strange things with myself, some nuns tried to talk to me about out of body experiences and lucid dreams that they are bad, that I shouldn’t use drugs wherever I get them or whatever it is I take. But I didn’t care and I kept denying that I take anything. Or actually I did care, I started to notice it was bad, but I didn’t want to stop, ’cause it still provided a relief.
I gave up on these things only when I started to rediscover Christianity and realised how bad it all is. Plus it was just my way of saying help me.
But with self harm I struggle to these days. Sometimes I may not cut for months, my record is about nine months, but it still comes back when I have a lot of emotions.
It also happened a few times that I felt very high and agitated, just exploding with joy, was alone at home, felt like I desperately need to talk with someone about it, but what I did was I cut myself. And I only realised afterwards what I actually did. Ugh…
I left the school at the age of seventeen with a master degree in stifling feelings. Sadly, I suppose that’s what I’ve learnt there the best.
It’s not that I only had bad things happening to me there. I would be extremely ungrateful to say so, but still, mainly bad things.
The next school year after I lived I went to the psychiatrist who was very helpful for me and, what I appreciated the most, honest and open. She finally called my problem by it’s name, said that I suppress all my emotions and that I have reactive depression.
It was four years ago. Now I still struggle with stifling emotions. I am conscious of it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t struggle. It’s always very hard for me to tell people what I feel, to open up to them and to express it. It’s hard for me to tell them what I feel to them. Sometimes I perceive talking to someone about my feelings simply as a disgrace. And sometimes I stifle everything before I can even think. That’s why people may think I am not honest with them, or even two-faced, cold and haughty. Moreover, I myself sometimes ask myself what I really feel and what is true about me. I am good at introspection, naming and differentiating feelings and see them very well in others, but my own feelings seem to hide from me so often or mix together so I can’t often even tell what exactly I feel ’cause it’s like a blending of many many emotions and I see them as from a distance. Or I can’t tell why even more often. I know a lot about myself, but some areas are totally unknown for me, and that sucks. It’s hard to work with yourself and process things when you feel like you don’t have connection with yourself. But I try, and I think I’m making some baby steps forward. Of course there are always three steps backwards and one step forward, but it’s always something. Especially that as for now I don’t have regular therapy. I talk with my former therapist on the phone from time to time, she always thinks about me and finds some time for me and it even happened that when I was in crisis and had noone to talk openly to, she was able and willing to talk to me at such crazy times like 6 AM, even though had so many other things to do. But she’s really very busy and needed to cut out some people’s hours from her schedule, as she has many clients and also other jobs. A few of them! But we talk like once a month and the rest of the work is entirely mine. It’s hard.
What I’d like to tell you in this post is that if you do this too, if you stifle your emotions for any reason, it’s not a cure for your problem. It’s inversely. It will only worsen everything. It’s a simple physical reaction. You can’t pull everything you feel inside. With time, there won’t be anymore place and you will just explode. In this way, or another. And believe me, none of these ways is nice or helpful to your life situation. I know it’s hard to unlearn it, but at least try to. It will truly help you.
For those of you who don’t struggle with tis issue. If you know someone who seems to be detached, like they don’t care for others or don’t show their affection, are cold, haughty or don’t trust you where as you think they should, because you are in relationship for instance, please try to not be judgmental. It’s very likely just their mask. It’s difficult, but try to look a bit deeper. Try to help them get rid of it. Are you still here? πŸ˜€
Congrats, and a big thank you, if you got through this post. It matters a lot to me. I can’t believe I wrote all that. I’m not really sure I did well, but maybe it will help someone. And I feel a bit lighter as I wrote about it. Again, thanks for reading. πŸ™‚
Ugh, wanted to write post with Misha, as it is his birthday today, or rather was, because it’s already past midnight here, wanted to pick a song of the day and write other stuff, but seems like it’ll have to wait.

Song of the day – Enya – “Evacuee”.

Hey people. πŸ™‚

Today’s song is quite exceptional. For two reasons. First is that Enya is one of my all time favourite artists, I’d even say that one of my crushes in some way, my first musical crush I’d say. I have a lot of memories related to her music, I find it very therapeutical and soothing and it was with me especially in the most hard times in my life. The second reason is that this particular song has a huge personal meaning for me.

I was at boarding school for the blind for like 10 years since I was 5 and it was a very hard time for me for various reasons. I just didn’t cope well with it. It still has a major impact on my emotions and as I suppose is one of bigger factors that have contributed to my present mental struggles, I’ve already told you that I was diagnosed with reactive depression after I left that school. One of those hard things I had such difficulty coping there, was simply homesickness. Since I’m not the most adaptive being on Earth sometimes it could hit me really strong so that finally I started to self harm in various ways. At this time I secretly considered Enya kind of my second mummy. And this song is just about it. About how hard can be homesickness to manage it when you’re a kid. Luckily now it doesn’t regard me, but since it describes my past and my feelings so well, it always moves me very deeply so that even now it sometimes happens that I’m crying when listening to it. I really love this song and think that even if you don’t resonate with it the way I do, it’s very expressive and it’s easy to feel it. Enya’s music usually affects people quite a lot. I like the fact that I have sort of my own song which describes so accurately my past feelings. It’s somehow easier to process it then. By the way I’m curious what inspired Enya (or actually Roma Ryan, her songwriter) to write about this. As far as I know, Enya herself was at kind of a boarding school linked to a monastery in Milford, but she went there in her teens and as she said she actually liked to be there as she had more freedom and independency there than at home where she had lots of older siblings and of course parents who tended to make all the decisions for her.

Here’s the song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRrVYvHyXAo

I’m curious what your impressions will be like.