Is my glass half full or half empty? Or, Bibiel’s take on defensive pessimism.

   Let’s do another journal prompt-inspired post, shall we?! For today, I chose the following prompt from Hannah Braime’s collection of journal prompts called The Year of You: 

   Would you describe your glass as half full or half empty? 

   I figured that with so much toxic, overrated, farting sweet, bright red and just ewwww yuck positivity floating around the world, it won’t hurt if I share my perspective on the glass dilemma, which, based solely on how often people seem to misunderstand it, must be not a very common perspective to have. Besides, I already wrote about it briefly quite recently in this post, so why not expand it further. 

   Like I wrote in that post, people who know me a bit, even some who know me a lot like my Mum, often tend to think of me as an extreme, incurable, even “hopeless” pessimist. And that’s kind of true except it’s not, and not just because I am not hopeless. My brain is definitely  on the gloomy side, and I am indeed a fan of thoroughly thinking through all possible worst case scenarios of a situation, which sometimes ends up spinning into proper catastrophising. Also if I happen to be very anxious, especially for a prolonged time or over a lot of stuff at once or one thing that feels really difficult to deal with, it’s extremely easy for me to slip into ruminating and overthinking, which as far as I know are all classic pessimistic traits. Yet, I don’t think I’m a real, pure pessimist. Many people I know who declare to be or are seen as pessimists don’t seem to get anything good out of the mindset that they have. It only stresses them out, makes it difficult to enjoy the good things in life while they are lasting, and often is very toxic, creating a really unpleasant and tense atmosphere in their surroundings that affects other people around them. For me, ruminating and overthinking can naturally be very stressful too and I’d much rather not deal with them, depression is also really shitty, but I tend to consider these more like brain malfunctions, even if deeply ingrained ones and ones which have been with me for a large part of my life, rather than a  mindset, definitely not a fixed one anyway. Those brain malfunctions can surely affect my mindset, especially when I feel particularly mentally unwell and have very low mood, but they can’t fully replace it because they’re entirely different things. I hope that makes sense.

   My pessimism is not about constant complaining (not that I think there’s anything wrong with complaining as such, as long as there isn’t too much of it and something constructive comes out of it, like yourself feeling better after getting something off your chest), constant/excessive grumpiness, finding faults with everything/everyone or never being satisfied with the good things that you have or that happen to you. 

   So what is it? My pessimism is defensive, so aside from being a way of thinking, it’s also a coping strategy for me. I firmly believe that it’s a lot better to always prepare yourself for the absolute worst possible thing and keep your expectations rather low, rather than hope for the best. Hoping for the best might be easier during the waiting  for whatever is supposed to happen, but if something positive that you’ve been waiting for doesn’t end up happening, or isn’t nearly as good as you imagined, the crash down from so high up will most often be  a really unpleasant experience, and you’re ultimately left with nothing other than your disappointment, and possibly other difficult feelings, depending on a particular situation. Whereas if you don’t expect much, you can only go higher. You won’t end up dramatically and painfully crashing down from anywhere, but you can end up feeling very pleasantly surprised. And, as a defensive pessimist rather than a plain grumpy pessimist, if something does exceed my expectations, I try to appreciate it as much as I can, rather than be like: “Oh well, it’s just an exception from the rule, something will surely go wrong”. It may or may not be an exception from the rule, and something else may or may not go wrong very soon, but I try to be very appreciative and grateful for the things that do go well, and enjoy them nevertheless. In fact, perhaps a little paradoxically, despite being an anxious melancholic with dysthymia, I am also blessed with the ability of finding even small things in life enjoyable and pleasurable, and if my mood is somewhere around what I consider my baseline, I don’t have to try very hard to make myself feel these feelings or focus on it very much. 

   Similarly, when you’re awaiting something that you consider stressful or otherwise difficult, for example an exam like Sofi does tomorrow, I personally don’t think it’s a good idea to try to convince yourself for all means that everything will be fine. I think it’s worth considering things that might go wrong, so that when something does go wrong, you can handle it better emotionally at worst, because you’ve sort of already been through it in your brain, and prevent it from happening altogether at best. You sure can’t always think of every possible thing that could go wrong in a given situation and prepare yourself for everything, but still, going through a few different difficult scenarios in your brain before a situation takes place, even if the actual situation won’t look exactly like any of the things you imagined, can be helpful in handling things in my opinion. 

   I guess though that while this works for me, it doesn’t necessarily have to work for everyone. I guess if so many people promote positivity, positive affirmations and stuff, it must work for them. I only know that my approach works well for me. I’d tried being more optimistic, because everyone, and especially my Mum, says that when you think of good things, then good things happen to you, and when you think about bad things, then you get bad things. And I have no reason to believe that this is not the case for people who say so. But for me, most of the time it just doesn’t work this way. I can seriously count on my fingers all the times when my very positive thinking led to a very positive outcomes, not counting all the situations when I just had a very strong gut feeling bordering on certainty that everything will go well and didn’t feel like I needed to either think of worst case scenarios or force myself to optimism, because when I have very strong gut feelings like that, they’re usually right. Most of the time when I tried hard to think positively about something, the actual outcome made me feel really anxious and overwhelmed because I totally didn’t see that thing coming. Meanwhile, very often, if I think of all the possible awful outcomes of something, and think that one of them is probably more likely than a positive outcome, the thing ends up very positively for me. Not always, but very often. This is part of why I’ve always considered myself an almost ridiculously lucky person, ‘cause apparently I do everything to attract all the bad things yet so many good things happen to me and, more importantly, so many bad things that could happen to me, just don’t. 😀 Admittedly, I’m perhaps not as insanely, , incessantly, provocatively, in-your-face lucky as my optimistic Mum, but still extremely, miraculously lucky. So if my defensive pessimism gives me very similar results to those that optimists get from optimism, I really don’t feel like changing my  brain and re-learning optimism just because optimism is more well-seen by society. It’s also rather boring. 

   I’ve actually been using the term defensive pessimism to describe this before I even learned that there actually is such a term in psychology, which has been coined by Nancy Cantor. I guess mine is a bit different though because it seems like that official definition of defensive pessimism is a little more narrow, only viewing it as a cognitive strategy, whereas I’d say mine is a mix of that plus just a more general way of thinking that is quite stable, I guess like a personality trait, or an attitude or something…? Not sure how to describe it well. Anyway, when I read that defensive pessimists perform worse in experimental tasks when encouraged to use a more positive cognitive strategy, it made me think that perhaps that’s just how it’s supposed to be, not only with cognitive strategies but also the more stable attitudes – that is, whether you’re an optimist, realist, pessimist or whatever else there is, you should just follow your brain and think the way you’re made to think, or the way you’ve learnt to think, in order to make things go well for you and be successful, rather than twist your brain wires at uncomfortable angles to tweak your thinking to what most people consider best and risk electrocuting yourself in the meantime. – What do you think? 

   Interestingly, I guess I haven’t always been a defensive pessimist. Similarly to how I wasn’t always quite as introverted as I am now. I’m pretty sure that the little Bibiel, like below age 8 or so, must’ve been an optimist, and the defensive pessimism thing has developed later on as I was gaining  new life experiences. When I wrote a post about defensive pessimism on one of my old Polish blogs as a teenager (which I remember I called “A Recipe for Luck” 😀 ) I said in there that I thought the main reason for why I ended up being a defensive pessimist was that I often experienced disappointment when expecting to go home from school, or my Mum to visit me in there during a weekend, which often ended up being cancelled or delayed multiple times for all sorts of reasons, which was an absolute catastrophe for me every single time, and that this way of coping became even more strengthened during my recovery from the Achilles tendons surgery, about which everyone kept reassuring me that it will  be okay, and which I also really wanted to believe, but didn’t really have much of an idea at all what to expect, and the whole recovery thing was a lot more difficult than I expected and I was totally unprepared mentally to handle that sort of thing. Even though I remember writing all that with a lot of certainty, I’m not sure it’s truly the direct cause of my defensive pessimism, and I don’t think it matters very much what exactly had caused it, but it sure is possible. My Mum is a bit impulsive and she would often get my hopes up telling me that she’d take me home next weekend, so then that was what kept me going all week long, until when it was almost Friday I’d learn that it won’t be happening just yet.  And so I guess over time my brain could have learned that the more frantically and desperately it’s hoping for something positive to be true, the more likely it is that it will be the opposite. If I didn’t expect to go home next weekend and lived as if it wasn’t supposed to happen, it was a lot easier to deal with such disappointments when they came, because they weren’t really actual disappointments anymore, and when I was able to go home, in a way it felt even better because I wasn’t really expecting it so it had a bit of a surprise factor to it. Generally I’ve never liked surprises very much ‘cause they’re really awkward, but a surprise weekend at home or visit from Mum was always more than cool. By the time I had the surgery I guess I was already quite an experienced  pessimist, and ruminator for sure, but it could have indeed been the ultimate thing that has cemented it into my brain for good. Regardless whatever it was that made me a defensive pessimist, in the end I can say I actually feel grateful for that, because it works for me, so why not. 

   So to answer the prompt question, is my glass half full or half empty, I’ll say the same thing that I said in the post linked above, that Bibielz expect an empty glass, and when Bibielz get a glass that’s half full, Bibielz go “Yayyyyyy! There’s water in it!” This is such a cool feeling, when you don’t expect to be able to find a single metaphorical drop of water to drink all day long, and then someone gives you a whopping HALF a glass. Who cares if it’s half empty or half full? There’s actually something in it, that’s what matters! And you relish every single metaphorical drop of it, because you don’t know when the next time will be that you’ll be granted such a luxury, and it tastes a lot better than if you were expecting it to begin with, because then it would be just normal water and you’d likely take it for granted. And it’s even better when you get half a glass of metaphorical kefir… 😉 

   Now, you tell me about your glass. 🙂 Oh yeah, and what is it actually filled with? 😀 Also if you have a mental illness, I’m curious if/how it affects the way you see your glass. 

Question of the day.

What’s your biggest addiction?

My answer:

I think dreaming. Daydreaming, imagining things, visualising (though perhaps visualising isn’t the best word to use when you’re blind but I can’t think of a more adequate one) and generally spending time within my complex Brainworld structures. It’s a lot of fun, and I love it in there, but I’ve noticed that I do it so much and so often, and have done throughout my life, that I’m often pulled in there involuntarily, when I should and/or want to rather be focusing on something else, and then it can be a little frustrating.

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day.

What should exist, but doesn’t?

My answer:

Some kind of brain cloud or something like that. I mean cloud as in a server. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who has such ideas. Plus something that would make the integration between the human brain and such cloud possible, of course. I’m not sure how exactly it would work in detail as I have little idea about such things, and this is probably not realistic to be a thing ever, but I’d like such a thing from which you could transfer things like information or skills to your brain so that it could process it and incorporate as part of what it knows and can do. Think about learning languages this way. 😀 There wouldn’t be any need for schooling or anything, you just sort of download whatever sets of skills and information you need and you’re ready to go and do your job. And also maybe we could incorporate new experiences this way without actually experiencing them physically so we’d know what different experiences feel like. But also, this cloud would be able to store all things that already are in your brain, if this is doable in any way, for example to somehow keep one’s memories in such a cloud and be able to retrieve them or something, for example when your physical brain gets amnesiac, or share them with people if you want. It would all be encrypted by default, and then when you’d die, you could state it in your will who, if anyone, do you want to inherit your brain legacy and people will gain access to whatever you let them have access to, or you can choose to have everything destroyed completely right in the moment when you die, or perhaps do some other things with it, like let your online brain copy keep floating there forever and think it’s immortal. I think it would be handy having a copy of your brain, and also having a sort of database from which you could pull things into your brain, but if such a thing would be realistic at all, I realise it’ll probably be also a great marketing/political toy and thus would have a lot of downsides to it in practice.

What is such a thing in your opinion? 🙂

Question of the day.

What’s your biggest fear?

My answer:

I have such an abundance of fears that it’s hard to say which one is biggest. Social anxiety’s definitely huge, but it depends on a lot of things and sometimes it’s less scary than others, or more manageable anyway, for no apparent reason. Then there’s this thing I call sensory anxiety, which I’ve generally gotten used to live with and it can also vary immensely in intensity, but it can be absolutely creepifying at times. My sensory anxiety is kind of connected with sleep paralysis, so that counts in here too. What’s particularly scary is this sleep paralysis/sensory anxiety “friend” of mine, known as “Ian” on this blog, about whom I wrote a short story on here, but I don’t tell his real name to anyone. He’s extremely scary and I always have a sick conviction at the back of my brain that he’s actually real and that some day I’ll get to experience his realness properly. As for actually recognised specific phobias, out of those that I’ve had emetophobia (fear of vomit) has always been the worst, though it’s not nearly as scary as it used to be for me in the past, most of the time anyway. Another thing that I have a fair bit of fear around is all things neurodegenerative, the possibility that I could end up having a neurodegenerative disease at some point, like Alzheimer’s (well, it doesn’t have to necessarily be a neurodegenerative disease, a TBI would be scary too but neurodegenerative diseases sound like something that’s particularly difficult to have any control over), and lose my brains as a result. My brains are like my fortress or something, so it would be a hopeless situation for me. And while usually it feels like vomit is scarier because it happens to more people and is more likely to happen, plus I’m also scared of it happening to anyone else, not just me, brain damage, of whatever nature, isn’t something that happens to everyone and it doesn’t seem like I’m at a particularly high risk in any way, as there hasn’t been anyone in my family as far as I know with this sort of thing. Yet on the other hand the brain damage stuff has way longer and nastier consequences. So I can’t say which one is scarier.

How about your fear? 🙂

What (if anything) do I wish more people knew about me?

I was thinking about writing some journaling prompt-inspired post on here for a while, and finally I’m getting to it, although it probably won’t be very long.

I chose to do a prompt from The Year of You by Hannah Braime which goes like this:

“what do you wish more people knew about you?”

Well, since just like I said I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while, I could also think it through very thoroughly. And my conclusion is, I’m not sure there is anything of particular importance that I wish more people would know about me. Because what would that knowledge change? What would they be to do with it? I guess, if anything, it would only make me feel more self-conscious.

Having more people know things about you could be useful only if, along with the knowledge, they would also gain some understanding. Then, my answer could perhaps have been a bit different. But that’s a really high expectation to want people to understand you as we so often don’t even understand ourselves, and can often be very complicated beings to understand for one another. While it would make a lot of things easier for me if people could just understand, it’s not something I actually expect them to do.

Thinking about it some more, however, made me come up with three things that I think would be nice if people knew about me.

The first one is that, while I am blind, it doesn’t mean that I am good at the same things, or can’t do the same things, or should be able to do the same things, or like/dislike the same things, or am somehow otherwise similar to some other blind person you happen to know. I don’t assume that you are the same as my Dad just because you both are sighted, so that you too surely must enjoy all things automotive like my Dad does because YOU TOO CAN SEE. 😀 Similarly you. Why would you think that, for example I need to be a great musician/have a guide dog/have an extremely good sense of smell/be able to live completely independently/not to have my own eyes/always be smiling etc. because that’s what the blind person you saw on the telly was like? Being someone with quite a strong sense of individuality, such assumptions drive me absolutely nuts, and they are even a bit of a thing in my extended, or not so very extended, family, as my gran for example has this kind of mentality. It is also, to a lesser degree, present even among people who work with blind people, which probably drives my Mum even higher up the wall than me lol. I’d like to get rid of that, and so that automatically all the other blind people could get rid of the problem in their lives too, and any other disabled communities where such a thing is a big nuisance.

The next thing is kind of related, and is not so much about me as me, but it would be really good for me too if people were able to know that, at least on some basic cognitive level. Namely, I’d like people to realise that not everything they see and consider obvious, is always actually the way they see it, because there may be a whole lot of stuff they don’t see, which doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. And similarly, not everything that you think you see may necessarily be what actually is there, this is just your way of seeing things.

The third thing, in turn, is slightly and rather indirectly connected to the second thing. It’s not necessary for people to know about me, it won’t change anything either for me or for them, and I don’t think they’d also need to understand it but I guess it would be fun if people knew, just for the sake of knowing, maybe it would somehow enrich someone’s life or something, who knows. This thing is that I have a very rich and interesting brain life, even if it doesn’t necessarily seem like this, because, after all, how does it show on the outside that someone has a rich brain life? It used to be my coping skill, and still is, of course, but now that I’m generally doing better in life it is also simply a pleasant thing and just a way of escapism or recharging or entertainment and the like. Over the years, I’ve created a few imaginary worlds, some quite well-developed, some less. Also I have fazas as most of you regular people on here probably already know (if you don’t know, fazas are very very briefly and basically how I call my very intense fascinations on people, the Polish word faza means phase or stage), and I have synaesthesia which brings me a lot of sensual joys. So yeah, my brain can be a jerk but it can also be the best source of entertainment for me. And I think I’d like people to know that because I wish more people had Brainworlds, it’s just a lot of fun so why not share it.

And how about you? Is there anything at all you’d like more people to know about you? If so, what would it accomplish, in your view, or what do you hope it could accomplish? 🙂

Question of the day.

Hey guys! 🙂

If you could choose a job that’s impossible for you to have (because of a disability/condition you have, lack of some necessary traits/qualities, your location, because it doesn’t exist anymore, because you’re too old etc. etc.), which one would it be?

My answer:

I think I could come up with more, as I like to dream of having all sorts of lives, both such that I would seriously like to live or not necessarily, just so that my perspective is richer and life is more interesting, but a job that I’ve always wanted to have and it’s highly unlikely I’d ever be able to have is to be a neurosurgeon. As many of you may know, I’m very much into human brain and a lot of things that have to do with it, and have been since many years. What first made me think of that I would really like to be a neurosurgeon were conversations with my horse riding instructor – who is also a neurologist and anaesthesiologist by profession at the same time – that I’ve had about all things brain related since about when I was 11. Also around that time, but I guess coincidentally and without the connection to my conversations with the horse riding instructor, I started to read books on human brain, and one that I remember particularly vividly from that time was a book by Jurgen Thorwald, its original is in German, I read it in Polish of course but I can’t find the English title, the Polish title would translate to “The Fragile House of the Soul” and it was about the history of brain surgery. It was a bit scary for me back then, but despite that, incredibly fascinating. While neurobiology and neuroscience are also fascinating, I think I’d enjoy it more to be a neurosurgeon than just neuroscientist as it would be less dry, though I guess I could as well be both. As I said though, naturally, it’s quite unlikely I’d be able to become a neurosurgeon in this life, first and foremost because I am blind, so that would be quite a disaster if I started to play around with people’s brains and people who already have some problems with their brains to begin with. 😀 Theoretically, my optic nerve could suddenly get stimulated or something and develop, though chances for that aren’t high and these days I’d probably not learn to actually see properly even if it would be fully developed, and I’m not quite sure I’d seriously like that to happen to me, even though a lot of people think it’s my biggest dream to be able to see even a little bit. I think that would be hugely shocking for a congenitally blind person, if not traumatising. But even if that happened to me and I would be able to learn how to use my sight properly, I’m still not sure I’d be the right fit for a neurosurgeon realistically, as my fine motor skills and coordination are both quite messed up, and while it could be influenced more or less by blindness, it’s not wholly caused by it as such so that would not go away miraculously. Oh, and obviously I’d have to redo my math finals to be able to study medicine, and being able to see would probably not make my math issues go away. 😀 But I was never frustrated that I can’t be a neurosurgeon or anything like that. It was always a bit of a pity for me, but not like I would feel really awful or imbittered about it, because I knew from the beginning it would have to stay in the sphere of my dreams.

What would that job be for you? 🙂

Brain, what do you want from me?

I’m seriously starting to wonder what’s up with those flippin’ Sundays! I’m recently getting Zombie days exclusively on Sundays, and this month I’ve hit a record. Three Zombie days in a month, all Sundays, including this one. If you don’t know what a Zombie day is, it’s the day after a sleepless night. I call it this way at least. Mondays used to be most often my Zombie days back when I was at school, and I guess that was even worse. To not be able to sleep for the whole night and then having to start a week in the Zombie mode, grrrrr yuck!

Another thing that I’ve been wondering a lot today is what does my brain want. I never know that during a Zombie day. I never know what I want. A Zombie day probably means something slightly different for everyone. For me, it’s a weird, floaty, dream-like, hazy, unreal feeling in my brain and my whole body. I often catch myself wondering “Is all this even real?”. I often get deja vus when I’m a Zombie, and my sense of time is changed. It’s like there is almost no time passing if I don’t look at the clock. I’m often a bit hyper in the morning, and then go into apathetic and zoning out, but I won’t go take a nap because my sleep cycle needs to reset. Sometimes I even mix languages like today. I feel like I’m losing control, and I’m often very anxious, jittery and even very panicky, but I can’t take my med ’cause in such a state of mind it’ll make me fall asleep while walking, as was the case with my horse Łoś, instead of muffling the anxiety. I am cold and weak and obviously lack the energy, am dizzy, and towards the end of the day if I’m really worn out I sometimes get little creepy hallucinations that make me want to scream with fear but I’m too scared to do that. Is that even normal when you have just one Zombie day? I’m more creative and coming up with bizarre, completely out of the box, apparently illogical but very logical ideas and solutions and theories, and the cool part about them is that I still love them the next day and often listen to my Zombie brain and take what it came up with into account. Perhaps it works like for people who apparently get the solutions for their problems from dreams? I can be a bit impulsive so I try not to do important things or such that need a cooled down perspective on a Zombie day, and I can easily go from something even quite close to euphoria to the darkest depression and an emotional overload, and when something is not going right, I can easily slip into hopelessness, it just feels like things are always going to be this way.

But most of all, I don’t know what I want! It’s so frustrating. I mean, I often don’t know that anyway, but in my Zombie mode, that affects even the most basic things. I’m faint and starving, and badly nauseous at the same time and I don’t know what to do with that. I think for like 15 minutes, “Am I hungry?…”. I decide I am, and then I can barely eat anything. Do I want to write a post, or take a shower? Does it matter? Perhaps not, but I have to do one thing first. But first I’ll rather just sit for the next 15 minutes with my Brain in the Zombie zone.Do I critically need a nap, or can I stay awake until the evening? Yes, I give up, I need a nap! I lay on the bed, and although my mind is swirling between the real world and Dreamland, it can’t quite decide on any of those. Do I want to drink green tea or cocoa? Do I actually want to drink anything? Is it better to be around people and be scared of people or alone and scared of my own brain? How can I know all those overwhelming things if even my brain doesn’t care to decide? Zombie days are weird.

But at some point, there comes a moment when all the controls in your brain go bright red, and suddenly you realise: “YAY! It’s time for sleep! That’s what I want! Sleep, sleep, sleep and sleep!”.

And now I’ve come to that place. I know that what I want is to

wrap

uptightly in all the possible blankets in my room, wrap Misha up cosily and snugly in his bed, and float away into Dreamland. Switch off my brain finally, in desperate hope that when I’ll wake up, it will reset, change the layouts and show me different worlds, both the outer and inner one. Perhaps the Zombie day was what my brain needed. It has been cluttered with unimaginable for me amounts of worries and ruminations over the last week, and a Zombie way is quite a smart way to do a reset. Only, will it really work this time? I am desperately hopeful and deeply sceptical at the same time.

But I guess the time is flying by, my precious seconds of potential sleep are flying away, so, for now I’ll leave you to it, and hope that, whatever is the time where you are, the next time you’ll be sleeping, it will be a really healing, powerfully regenerative sleep.

Do you often get Zombie days? How do they feel like for you?

 

Working On Us.

It’s week #4 of Working On Us at

Beckie’s Mental Mess

and I’m very happy to participate in this prompts series for the second time. Last week, I was answering the questions for prompt #1, but this time, I found prompt #2 really relatable. It’s a photo prompt, so I couldn’t actually see it, but Beckie described it and the image of a brain inside of a bird cage really spoke to me. I suppose I should include the photo in my post somehow, but since I have no clue how to do it, and am blind, so don’t need to have a clue about pics haha, I’ll just leave it as it is.

I was thinking about that prompt a lot last evening and thought I would make some piece of creative writing but since I don’t feel very creative at the moment it’ll just be a bit of a ramble.

I’ve been fascinated by brain for years, and it’s one of my main interests. But it’s not only that why I found this prompt so relatable. I could say I often feel as if my brain was locked in a bird cage, and unable to get out, just never thought about such a metaphor before. What does it feel like when your brain is locked in a brain cage? For me, among other things, it means difficulty in releasing emotions, there’s no way to get them out, whether you want it or not. Your brain fills up until it’s all full and all the feelings are one big mishmash, so that sometimes you don’t even know what you feel any longer. Things get mixed up, until finally the brain can’t contain anymore, and things start to leak out. But instead of leaking outside in a proper way, instead of being expressed, they spill all over the cage. It’s flooded with stuff that can’t be released otherwise, and the brain is swimming in all the intense feelings. That’s when overload happens, and I start feeling a lot of intense anger that gets turned inwards, so I feel like self-harming. Sometimes, when the flood is really strong, something will spill outside through the grating, but the cage is tall and thick so it’s really hard. The only way for me to get my brain out of that cage is writing. Then, the bird cage opens and it can fly out and feel more free.

Another thing that a bird cage makes me think of in the context of my brain, is the feeling of alienation, or feeling disconnected, or loneliness in the crowd, inadequacy, or however you want to call it. I like being different, and individualistic, and I like being on my own more than around other people most of the time and feel more comfy with it. But when it becomes a bird cage for my brain is when I do need to be with someone, but for whatever reason can’t make a connection with people. Sometimes it’s like you can see other people from there, but there’s no way of communicating effectively. You can only bang on the cage and hope that they will hear you, but even if they will, they usually won’t be able to help you out, or open the cage, or get close enough that you could communicate, or feel the way you feel. Even if they do get to you, you’ve been living in this cage for so long that you can’t even explain to them what it’s like, and what you need, and they won’t understand, because they live out there in the world which is so very different. So after a couple trials, you just sit in the corner of your cage and look out, watching people come and go. Sometimes they’ll glance in your direction in confusion, not understanding why you are the way you are and live in a bird cage, what’s wrong with your brain that you constantly keep it in there. As if it was your choice. Sometimes you might feel desperate, and try to jump over the cage, but that hardly ever ends up well and is risky, you can easily get hurt. Even if you do get out of there in one piece, you quickly realise that you don’t fit in, and lots of consequences come with it. And after so many years of living in a cage your brain just doesn’t know otherwise and has it hard to adjust and be just like any other brain living in the outside world. So after all, you put your brain back into the cage, voluntarily this time, ’cause a familiar enemy is worse than the one you don’t know anything about and don’t know how to deal with.

That’s the way my brain feels sometimes. Well, regularly. Again, writing, for myself or with/to others, is something that helps, to some degree, especially blogging and penpalling is what I’m thinking of.

Also, I think the bird cage analogy works very well in regards to my sleep paralysis experiences too. It feels like my brain and me are locked up in a bird cage with all my dream monsters. I can see the outside world but they don’t see me, and I can’t run away because my dream “friends” are all over me. The only thing I can do is wait for the dream cage to open and flee as soon as possible.

What’s a bird cage of your brain? How does it look like and what does it represent? 🙂

Ingeborg Fosse – “Love On The Brain”.

I’m not a particular fan of this song in its original version by Rihanna, generally I’m not a fan of Rihanna I think, but I kind of like this song in this girl’s version. It’s nothing particularly original, especially for those who think I listen only to very niche music, as many people in my surroundings seem to still believe 😀 but it’s just cool. And as for Ingeborg Fosse, she is another Norwegian singer I want to show you – I’m having a little Norwegian period as for the music I listen to right now – and she was a participant in Norwegian Idol. Tomorrow I’m also going to show you another Norwegian singer who covered a popular, mainstream song, she was also discovered thanks to a music show, and even her name is the same – Ingeborg. But that will be tomorrow, today I have “Love On The Brain” for you, and I hope you’ll like this version. 🙂

Question of the day.

Do you know any random factoids that other people may not know?

My answer:

I’d think so. Anyone knows that names Alice and Heidi are a form of the same name, Adelheidis? 😉

Of other things, more associated with the term “random factoids”, I have a book with some and one of the sad things I learned from it is that apparently our brains have gotten smaller since the stone age. Or actually maybe that’s not sad. Maybe stone age people had macrocephaly? What do you think?

And what random factoid do you know? 🙂