Second week of winter holidays.

Yes, today we just started the second week of winter holidays. I am happy I have one more week of chilling out before I’ll go again into my usual routine.

Unfortunately my family seems to have a bad luck recently. My dad got sick a few days ago, it looks like sicknesses really like us recently, because Mum was ill not so long ago, as well as Zofijka and me and my Dad were ill around new year, and now Dad’s sick again. And it looks like it’s angina again. He can barely speak. Only my brother Olek seems to be relatively fit.

And yesterday Mum and Zofijka and our cousin went to the icering and were skating for like a few hours, my Mum loves skating and is fairly good at it, but then suddenly she slipped and fell on her arm and now it hurts her terribly. We are worried it may be broken or something, ’cause it still seems to really hurt.

But Mum says that once she recovers, she’ll go skating again, she haven’t done it in years, but she really loves it.

I think that if my labyrinthium didn’t suck so much and if I had better balance, I would like it too, I have always had a weird liking for everything ice related, but I’d feel pretty unsecure on the icering with my freaking balance, I think. So as for now I am trying to help Mum when and if it’s possible, since it really sucks to be able to use only one hand and to be, as she calls herself, a “house manager”. πŸ™‚

My cousin is still with us which I am very grateful for because Zofijka is such an absorbing and really easily-bored kid, that she often gets on my nerves when she keeps repeating how bored she is and what she’d like to do and that no one wants to play with her and she is so alone. No matter how I love her, it can be annoying when she still only wants people to play with her and make up ideas for her to have fun, since we all have better and more important things to do. I often play with her and I like to do it, but, I hope you get it, I can’t do it all the time. No one can and wants. So I think we all appreciate it when Zofijka has someone her age to play with, if she really still needs company.

Misha is delighted, he got his new cat sausages today and he loves them. He was licking himself about 10 minutes I think after he ate lol. And he seems very happy and relaxed now. He is sitting by the window and looking at the world and licking his paws. This is the life. πŸ˜€

Hope you all are also having a nice day, no matter if you have a winter break or not. πŸ™‚

A bit of a mental health update.

I’ve had quite a tough time in a few recent days. It started on Thursday and it was even more tough because it was my birthday, so, you know, people would expect you to be happy, smiling and beaming, while I felt everything but that. Since I got up, I felt just so overwhelmingly depressed, plus extremely irritable and emotional, like anything you’d say could make me cry or scream, just like a minefield. Very unstable. So, although as I wrote some time before, I am still a master at stifling emotions and no one really could really see anything that’s going on inside me, even my Mum didn’t realise until I told her, it was really hard to keep things under control.
I had a very poor sleep the night before and maybe that contributed to it. I fell asleep sometime between 4 and 5, I had so many thoughts and feelings on my mind that they kept me up and anxious for the most part of the night. Luckily when I finally fell asleep, it wasn’t disrupted and I had some time to catch up on sleep before the noon. So as I said, I felt just massive floods of emotions going through me when I woke up. I felt like I was shaking inside and had a lump of rage and tears constantly in my throat, as if I was close to a meltdown, which felt a bit scary.
I tried to be smiling and I think I succeeded, after all I am sure that if not my emotional disregulation, I would surely enjoy that day much more.
My sis Zofijka was very sweet to me. She bought me a Toffifee, she knows I love Toffifee and she loves it too, so we were eating it together. Also she got me a pillow which looks like a cat and she called it Misha. My Mum got me a salt lamp, which is really lovely. And I got a cat figurine made of onyx from my Dad, so my gem stone figurines collection is now a bit bigger. It is very lovely too. I felt very grateful for how they knew what would make me happy.
The first more difficult moment for me during that day happened when my aunt, who is also my God mother called me to wish me happy birthday. She is kind of know-all person, quite judgmental and that’s why she often, consciously or not, hurts people with her straight-away, judgmental opinions, which surely aren’t facts, or with her “good advices”. I think almost everyone knows someone like this, who wishes you only well, but in fact every time you talk to them, you feel drained or hurt.
So this time wasn’t an exception and she kind of worsened my mood even more. So I decided that before any guests will come, I need some Mishtime, just Misha and me, otherwise I will explode and people will be surely very astonished and confused. So we had some time together with Misha and with some good, Norwegian electronic music on. I think Mishka realised in some way that I need him, because he stayed beside me for an entire hour, although it’s so not his style. We lied together and I was stroking him and listening to his sounds – his heartbeat, breath, his tummy and any other Mishsounds. They are all sooo cute! πŸ˜€ Really. And they are so soothing. That’s why I sometimes wish I could go inside Misha and hide there, although my sis says it’s weird, because she thinks Misha can’t be even a bit as beautiful inside as he is outside and she’d prefer to be small enough to fit his basket and curl up in there with him. Anyway, Mishtime made me a bit more relaxed for a while, but just for a while.
Finally the guests came and it turned out we’ll be having quite a lot of extended family here. Our family is rather big and they like gatherings and their food, especially my Dad’s family, so it was really quite a bunch of people. Although I know them all more or less obviously since they are my family, I didn’t feel very confident in such a big group of people so the anxiety turned on at some point as well. And then we also had a little family drama, not regarding me directly, but indirectly and it made me even more emotional, so after a few hours I just needed urgently to go away from all this. So did it. Misha was following me so we both went to the bathroom and I had a long, hot shower and cried my guts out, as I felt I needed it, where as Misha enjoyed his favourite activity – drank the water from the tap in the tube. He always drinks from everywhere but his own bowl. πŸ˜€ I couldn’t really get exactly why I had all these emotions and why they were so intense and mixed. So I cried a lot and for a while I felt I let it out, but it couldn’t be all, because I still was feeling very depressed and hopeless and lonely, although paradoxically the living room was full of people who came to me, at least theoretically. But I knew that if I came to them, the feeling of loneliness wouldn’t decrease. And I was just as crappy as I didn’t feel in weeks already. And then before I even fully realised what I’m doing, I cut myself. Again. Ughhh… Then, of course, endorphines started to work. But again, just for a while.
So I decided that I need to call my therapist. Well I’ve told you already that she isn’t my therapist any longer formally, but since I don’t have any other regular therapy instead, she checks in with me from time to time, like once a month or so. She’s very busy and has a few jobs, so it’s often hard for her to carve out some time. That’s why I was almost sure she won’t be able to talk.
But she was. And it already felt like a huge relief. I told her how unstable and chaotic I feel and like I can burst out with any minute and how unsafe I feel because of that and that I have no clue what could cause it, only that it may be some unprocessed stuff from the past or something like this. Then while talking to her about all that, I realised that it might be also due to PMS, as I have it. There was a little discussion about PMS on one of the lists I’m on exactly the same day, but I didn’t realise it may be due to PMS, or partly because of it, before I started to talk about it to my therapist.I talked to her about what’s going on in my life. That recently I am having sleep paralysis and all the scary dreams regularly again so often wake up pretty exhausted before I even start doing something more constructive. I also talked to her about my anxiety levels which are shifting quite a lot now, sometimes I can feel almost no anxiety and then suddenly it just hits me so strong that it’s sometimes really hard to stand it. Sometimes I even don’t see the reason of such reaction very clearly. And it’s often hard to hide from people that I am anxious, which I hate, because it still makes me quite unsafe when I know or even suppose that other people may realise what I’m feeling at the moment. I told her that I often feel like I don’t get myself AT ALL and how it damn frustrates me. And that I cut myself and now am frustrated about that too. We also talked briefly about my social anxiety in connection to my birthday. She already knows that this school year is extremely hard for me because of the final exams coming in May and stuff related to that as well as because I feel very unsecure about my future and it just looks so shitty and hopeless to me. So she asked me also about these things and how I am doing school wise. I told her that besides that previous exam session being much tougher for me emotionally than I’d expect and how drained I was afterwards, it’s fairly well with this now, I decided to slow down before the next term starts ’cause I feel I really need it and now I’m trying to think about school and my future as little as possible, but I think I’ll have a gap year before I’ll start with any further education. Just to have more time to consider what would be the best for me and also to recharge after this year. And maybe gain some new skills like a new language, find another job, so I’ll have more money either to save for the future or spare just for things I enjoy since I can do this now as I live with my family. That’s what my Mum told me would be wise to do, to take a gap year, and I think so too. My therapist said it’s reasonable indeed. We also talked about my relationship with my Dad, which was always difficult, complicated I mean, but rather good and recently started to break down a bit which worries me and makes me a bit confused. And we talked a lot about many different emotions and feelings and the content of my dreams and other things that are a bit too private to put it here, plus some of them are still fairly difficult for me to talk about.
Anyway, she was able to put some of the weight off me and I felt a little bit more uplifted, even just the fact that she was accessible for me and I had someone supportive to talk to did a lot for me. I felt much more encouraged and not so much hopeless, although it still wasn’t ideally.
She told me that she’s of course not a doctor, but she thinks I am in a lot of distress because of all that what’s going on and if she’d be me, she’d ask my doc to put me on Afobam again.
I was taking Afobam some time ago for a while and it really worked for me so I think it’s not a bad thought and I think I’ll do it next week. Also she told me she would really like to be able to schedule some regular sessions for me, ’cause that’s definitely what I need in her opinion, so she said it would be good if I could find someone who would provide me support on a regular basis. THat may not be as easy though, but I was also thinking about it a lot recently, so looks like it’s time for it.
Misha was still with me as talked to my therapist and purred loudly. I think there really might be something more to that theory that animals are very good at feeling our emotions, he was just so sweet that day. Or maybe he realised it was my birthday haha.
So when we finished, I went downstairs to see what’s up and helped my Mum a bit to tidy up and then went straight to bed with Misha, as I still felt quite depressed and exhausted. The next day I talked to my Mum about my call with the therapist and what we talked about and generally about everything related. She isn’t always very understanding, but was very supportive when I talked to her and we talked honestly and openly for about an hour which I really appreciated. And my Mum also told me she feels like she might have PMS right now, ’cause that day was also hard for her. I didn’t have that overwhelming feeling of too many mixed emotions inside me any longer, although was still feeling depressive throughout the day. But it wasn’t as scary as on Thursday, it really made a huge difference for me.
Today, besides poor sleep again and still feeling a bit depressive, I feel much more stable. My therapist checked in with me today in the morning via email and seemed very pleased to hear about my conversation with Mum. So that’s it, I really hope it’ll get only better from now on. Hope you all are having great weekend. 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.

Misha here. *long post*

Some things in brackets are from me, not from Misha.

Hhrrrru?

A very Mish welcome for all of you. I always say hhrrru? when I greet someone.

I am Misha, but I guess everybody already has noticed it. Actually, I think I should introduce myself, but dunno how to do it on the Internet. And I’ve never written anything in English before. Emilia always talks to me in different languages so that I’m often confused which is which. Usually, if you came to me, I’d come close to you, if I would feel like it and maybe, maybe would let you stroke me. Sometimes, if I like someone very much, I greet them verbally as well, saying hhrrru?, but I need to trust them a bit.

I hope I can introduce myself well. I am almost two, will have birthday on Tuesday, Mila says that for humans it will be like 30 years or more, so yes, I’m adult. I’m not a baby, but everyone treats me like a baby and this is very, very, veeery tiring. And unfair. But sometimes good. I am a Russian blue cat, I am thoroughbred, but I’ve no idea why or if it matters. For some people it seems to have a huge meaning. I cost a pile of brass – so says Zofijka. If I were a human, apparently I’d be a tsar of All Russia – so says my human mum. I don’t know neither what is brass nor what is the tsar of All Russia, but I do know, that it’s probably a compliment. They always tell me compliments. “Misha, you are so pretty”. “Misha, you’re so soft”. “Misha, you smell so nice”. Sometimes it’s fine, but sometimes boring. Most often it is boring. I am rather small. I eat very much, but you can see most of my bones and I don’t grow at all. I’ll probably stay this way, pity, but Zofijka and Mila say, that this is very good. My fur is grey, but glitters a bit blu-like, so that’s why I’m kind of blue. My eyes are green. I am very smooth and soft, some people lay on me because of this and won’t even think that maybe it bothers me and I can barely breathe. Am I a pillow or what? But you can’t talk to people. I have really big ears. Well I guess not so very big, but my head is small, so it looks like they were big. I like to look at myself in the mirror. Or on the photos. I love to drink water, from wherever I can, only not from my own bowl, it’s so boring. It’s better to drink water from the flowerpot. I like to look at birds, catch and eat flies, mosquitoes and spiders. My human mum is deadly afraid of spiders and always calls me very shrilly, when any comes to visit me.

I very, very, very dislike noisy sounds. I had to get used to them a bit, because Zofijka makes always very loud sounds, but I dislike when someone yells at me, screams “Misha!” so loudly, or when something is playing loudly, or when Zofijka tells me something to the ear. I will hear her anyway, won’t I? I always slap her face with my ears then. They mistreat me very much, don’t you think so? I am very poor.And I can’t get chicken breasts everyday, as I’d like, and there arent’ as many cartboard in our house as I’d like and I often can’t do what I want.

But the worst is that I can’t go outside on the backyard. OK, sometimes I can, on the terrace, but really rarely, and what do I have of it? It isn’t a pleasure. Some cats run allover their backyard, we have such wild cats on our backyard and they still call me and then I meow loudly as well. Other cats run, but whenever I only get a bit away, everyone runs after me immediately and shout Misha. Mila says that’s because I am so pretty and someone would steal me at once. But I would come back quickly, really. I’d just look around the whole world and I would come back. And my human mum says, that if I want to lounge on all the beds and lie in the bedsheets, especially at Mila’s, ’cause she is allergic to me, I surely won’t go outside, because if I don’t go out, she isn’t allergic almost at all. And I can catch some illness, because they haven’t vaccinated me. I don’t get these people. But other than that I think I’m happy. Cuz I can do many things, I don’t have to eat only my food, like apparently many cats have to, I get chicken and rabbit and lots of snacks and fish yummmm and kabanosy, mine and for humans and sausage. Today I didn’t get anything besides cat food and some usual snacks which Mila gives me everyday.

I have very sensitive tummy and sometimes when I eat something unhealthy or too much of food it happens that I throw up. It rarely happens, but when it does, I am always very surprised and everyone yells at me and calls me names. Mum says to me what have you done you blockhead (well, sheep, not blockhead literally, it’s ridiculous, I’m not a sheep, don’t you see?). Sometimes she also says that’s because I gnaw away sausage like a Russian hick and then she says I have some diet. I don’t know what is diet and where I have it, but I don’t wanna know, I don’t like it anyway. But I always get something the next day and they share with me if they eat any meat. But when they eat meat and I can’t, I am always very sad and sit alone somewhere. It’s especially sad when I’ve never eaten something they’re eating without me and it smells nicely. Why can’t they ever guess that maybe I wanna eat it too?

I don’t know any animals, only from a distance.

I know only one dog, who was with us before for a few days. Her name was Peppa and she liked me very much, like everyone does, I liked her too. We played together. And then she ran away and I was a bit sad. I like people, but I’d like to get to know some animals, because I’m bored sometimes, when nobody’s at home. One of my younger brothers was supposed to be with us before, Mila wanted to call him Sasha, but he was born ill so didn’t come to us.

My real mum’s name is Hansa Luft and apparently she is very pretty. ZOfijka saw her. But nobody have ever seen my dad, ’cause he lives abroad. He’s Czech and his name is Jupiter. Did I mention, that I like cartonboards very much?

If I didn’t, I do now. I like cartonboards very much. As every cat, but I am exceptional anyway and I know it. I had one cartonboard on Mila’s table for a very long time, but it picked dust and lots of my fur was inside so mum had to take it away and throw out. I slept there very often during the day. I have also one at Zofijka’s, one in my human parents’ room and many cartonboards are downstairs in the laundry and in the cellar and in the garrage, but they rarely let me in there, because they always close the door there, I don’t know why and then it bothers them when I groan that I want out. And then I have dirty paws when I go in there.

I have many others beds too. At night, most often I sleep in the basket, which stands on Mila’s bed, or I loll with someone on the bedsheets, but I don’t like to loll on the bedsheets for the entire night, ’cause people toss and turn awfully lot and sometimes for example while they sleep, they lay on my tail. It doesn’t hurt, but pisses off, cuz you can’t move and when you move, they wake up immediately and mumble Misha don’t go, you are so warm. That is my destiny. I also have a bed on Mila’s or Zofijka’s wardrobe. Mila doesn’t like, when I lay down on her wardrobe in the basket that stands there, if I lie on Zofijka’s wardrobe, it’s because I don’t want anyone to bother me.

I also like sometimes to sleep in another, smaller room that Zofijka has, on the sofa or wherever else. And I like to sleep on the suitcases in mum’s dressing room, or inside of them. I like to go into the bags, even to strangers’ bags, when they come to us and I check how it smells like in there. Honestly, I prefer their bags from themselves, if someone comes without one, I almost don’t pay any attention to them. Once I squeezed in one lady’s bag and she took a picture of me and sent to Facebook, and everyone chattered about it all day long. I can pose to photos very well. The only thing that pisses me off are these flashes in cameras and when someone wants me to pose for a long time, no, I don’t agree. One photo and I go away. I don’t like and I can’t play with cat toys. I prefer feathers, especially those which smell like forest and birds, sticks, rubbers, hair-bands, and the most – Zofijka.

Zofijka has her disatvantages, but you can play with her hide and seek, jump on her back – on everyone’s you can, jump over her, pounce on her, roll with her on the floor… But does she really have to scream all the time, and carry me in baby carriage? And catch me, when I have other plans? When I was younger, I was very afraid of Zofijka. But now I know what to do to not be bothered by her so much and where to hide. And when I hide from her, mum says Misha you are not that stupid. Thanks. But who said I am?

I like to bite plants. Mila says I have a chloro-something defficiency and they’ll need to buy me some vitamins. Once I’ve bitten Christmas tree and then puked. I like oils as well.

Our mummy has very many bottles with oils, once she greased me just for fun with coconut oil, so I could smell nicely and I liked it a lot.

I also like to lick people’s fingers when they have oil on them, or when they smell with meat. I like to smell freshly used socks, especially Olek’s. I don’t drink milk. It’s not healthy for me and it’s not healthy for all cats, which don’t drink their mums’ milk. So says my present mum.

Well, it has to be so. If I drink milk, i need to rush to the loo and I sometimes need to run there a few times. Luckily I run very fast. But instead sometimes, very rarely, I get some yoghurt, kefir or buttermilk or whey, Zofijka once shared with me some of her vanilla pudding. Ahhhh! How delicious it was. I still dream about it sometimes.

Apparently sometimes I mutter something while sleeping. Not purr like cats normally do, I talk something in my Mishy language. Mila says so. Most often I have very serene and calm dreams, but sometimes I dream that I run away from someone and my muscles are jumping in all my paws and I wake up a bit frightened, but I stop thinking about it quickly and fall asleep again. I like different smelly things. Not all, but many. I won’t tell you which, cuz people really don’t like many of these things. I can growl almost like a dog, when something really hurts me. It isn’t funny at all. Ah, and people often laugh at me. I hate when Olek annoys me and plays meowing cats on his phone, then I don’t know, where they are and am very afraid and I feel like running very far away. I like to wallow in carrier bags, it’s the best when someone puts me into a carrier bag and walks with me like with groceries.

I can’t stand when they call me “she”.

Zofijka’s friends often do so. Not only that they scream, but also: “Oh, Mishka, awwww, you’re so pretty. Why did she run away?” Other people say so too, even though often finally either mum or Mila can’t stand this too and says that I am a guy. But they pretend they don’t hear it, like me, anyway they often do so. (Misha ends with an A, like almost all Polish feminine names, that’s why people get confused).

Also I hate when Zofijka calls me Michelle, or woman. She says so when I’m afraid of something or cry a lot. Mila comforts me that Michelle is also a French name for guys, but I don’t care, I am Misha, not Michelle. That I can’t have children, it doesn’t mean I’m a woman.

It is me who watches over it all here and if not me, this house would turn upside down.

They call me names very often.

All of them.

I have many nicknames.

Putin, Sakashvili (Sakashvili’s name is Mikheil, so Misha), Mysza (it literally can mean big mouse in Polish), Miska (bowl in Polish), Misa and Micha (big bowl), Miseczka (small bowl), MishoΕ‚Γ³w (a word game on the word “myszoΕ‚Γ³w” which means buzzard), Mishmasz or Mishmash, Misha klisza, Mishka kiszka, The Grey Brother, Clochard, Sackful of Potatoes… And my terrible human father always calls me either skunk or duffer. Or Sakashvili sometimes. And I totally don’t know what it all means.

I don’t like to be lonely. I always cry a lot then until I fall asleep and I am very sad and when everyone comes back, I lay down at the door and wait for someone to snuggle me and roll me on the floor.

Everybody says then that I fainted, because I lay down on the floor so suddenly. The best it would be if everyone would always be at home, but if I could have some only mine, Mishy place, where noone could bother me and I’d take care of myself there and if I’d like, I’d come out for food, play or cuddles.

I hope I didn’t bore you. I know, my life is very boring. I even don’t know any animals closer, any cats, and I’ve never eaten a bee, but I’d really like to, cuz one day I saw such a big, pretty bee and almost chased it. Sometimes though something happens in my life and if you’d like, I can talk to you about it.

If I will feel like it.

Mishest regards to all.

Misha

Quiet Saturday.

Today I am also having a very nice day. It’s 7 PM now here as I am starting to write this post. My mood is still rather uplifted which I am happy about. And I slept really well again, although quite long, I definitely didn’t plan to sleep for so long and didn’t want it to be honest. I fell asleep around midnight and woke up at 10 AM. I spent a lot of time today with Zofijka. Also I learned some Welsh. Guys I can’t believe it I am at challenge 5 of level 2 already. It goes so fast. I am still far from efficient or fluent in this language, but still… it is an Achievement, even if it’s always rather easy for me to learn languages. Welsh is pretty different from any other language I’ve spoken before. One day I want to speak all the Celtic languages fluently. Hope it’s not too big dream to achieve.

Also, staying with Celtic stuff, I’ve been discovering a lot of Cornish music lately. Recently I realised that despite my love to Celtic music and culture and Cornish language, I don’t know that much Cornish music. So decided to change it. And today I discovered quite a bunch of great songs and artists.

Today my grandparents from Mum’s side visited us and stayed for lunch. We are a bit concerned about grandad, he’s having very severe spine pain, so severe that it also affects his arm and hand. It’s so hard that he was supposed to put on morphine but he’s allergic so has to take horrid amounts of pain killers. And it all affected his health in general. You see, he was quite a strong man, tall and well-built, very fit. And now, in maybe three or four months he become much skinnier, I mean almost scrawny (don’t know if that’s the correct word for it for sure, but hope you know what I wanted to say and seems faint and barely eats. And now he told us he has spine surgery planned for 13th February. As he says it won’t be really complicated, even though what he suffers from is discopathy so quite complex stuff I suppose. We really hope all goes well. My Mum is very worried.

OK, so that’s all from me for today. Hopefully tomorrow we can write something with Misha, at least his intro or something like this. Wanted to do it today, but now I don’t think I’ll be able to.

First day of winter holidays.

Yes, today in our voivodeship (voivodeship is something like a Polish province or county) winter holidays are starting. However it didn’t have a big impact on neither me nor my family this year.

I am still in education, it is a part time school for adults, something close to college and high school in English-speaking countries, but more like high school, because the subjects are more general and in normal situation, 16-19-year-olds are attending to this kind of school. But because of my blindness and the fact that my school is just a mainstream school and not really prepared for having blind students, as well as because of my mental difficulties, it’s easier and just better for me to learn on my own and so I do. My teachers just send me the syllabus every term and I usually go to school only for exams and send them my control assignments by email.

So actually I don’t feel that much that there are holidays now, but I am happy, extremely happy, because my exam session is over and I can slow down for a while before I’ll again start to prepare to my final exam, which is called matura over here. It was a really intense term and I felt pretty drained after all the exams.

My younger siblings didn’t feel it either. My 17-year-old brother (olek) is working either way and my 10-year-old sis Zofijka is ill since last week so doesn’t go to school at all.

Zofijka seems to be very unlucky this year. Despite she is a very fit kid, plays different sports and is just so extremely active, she is ill for the fourth time since autumn. So it’s a bit concerning, but now my Mum is keeping her home and is very strict as for this, she can’t go out just ANYWHERE. This is a tragedy for such a lively and easy-bored kid, as you can imagine.

My day today went really nice. The main thing I focused on today was this blog. Well, actually I was focusing on it for the last few days, desperately trying to set it up so that now I can’t believe I finally did it. πŸ˜€ Really really thrilled.

I woke up today very early because of my cat Misha. I am often very anxious at night so if it is only possible and if Misha agrees on it, I sleep with him in my room. He has his own bed, which is a basket, standing on my bed, so that I can cuddle with him at night if we want and if I need to. He also has plenty of toys and hideouts allover my room, so that I actually should say it’s “our room” not mine. So every morning when Misha wakes up he meows at me to let him out if he’s hungry or wants to see what’s up downstairs. Normally he isn’t a very cuddly creature, but today when he stood at the door meowing and I came to him, he let me snuggle him for quite a while and seemed really content.

Every day I spend quite a lot of time with Zofijka, despite quite a big age difference between us we have a rather strong relationship and she likes to play with me or talk about things that matter to her. With some topics, she is even more open with me than with Mum, so she talks to me practically about everyting that she has on her mind. We played a very funny game called “7 Seconds” on Zofijka’s smartphone. Basically in this game every participant gets a random task to do in 7 seconds, sometimes things you have to do are really funny. If you succeed, you get a point. What made us rolling on the floor today was one of Zofijka’s tasks. She had to open the window and shoutt: “Someone, catch me, I’m jumping!”. πŸ˜€ Luckily no one was on the street. But she didn’t scream very loud so I hope she wasn’t heard by many people.

Besides playing with Zofijka, cuddling with Misha and setting up my blog, I also went with my Dad to the church, because today is my grandad’s 14th death anniversary.

Right now I am sitting in my room, listening to music and drinking raspberry tea. Some time ago I got to know that my aunt will have a cat of the same breed as Misha is and from the same breeding. My Mum just went with her to pick him up. I’m curious what he’ll be like and whether he’ll be much like Misha or not. But probably it will be some time until I’ll be able to see him.

OK, that’s all from me for today. How is your day going? Did anything nice happen to you?