herperspective-blog

[herperspective-blog]

Progress...

I just signed into this account after many absent years. I forgot I even had this account... or maybe I thought I had deleted it. Either way, I hadn’t read through these old posts in a long while. Its funny how distant memories can feel like moments from yesterday. The younger version of myself was crying out for help and simultaneously yearning for independence. I think I believed then that I had the support I needed to get through those dark periods... but I also knew that I needed to take care of myself. There was a line in one of those entries about the importance of self-preservation... it has taken me years to finally see and acknowledge the fact that I mostly took care of myself during those dark periods. I didn’t have family to lean on but I had friends. Some of them drank with me... smoked with me. Some of them let me sleep on their couches. Others took care of me when I mixed booze with prescription drugs. I had friends that covered for me, friends that drove me to the hospital, and friends that were brave enough to tell me the truth. I remember feeling so very alone during that period of my life. I felt so high when I was out at night with friends, sharing cigarettes and ignoring the weight I was carrying. When I finally got the freedom that I wanted so badly... I just chased that high. I dropped out of college. No regrets there... it needed to happen. I stopped taking meds and I got a job in the service industry. Suddenly I found a whole world of people that were trying to numb pain of their own... and in all different ways. Everyone has a vice.

Fast forward to now. I’m sober for the first time in seven or eight years. I’m on meds... again for the first time in seven or eight years. I haven’t felt this stable at any other point in my entire life. Its hard not to be frustrated with my younger self. I could have stopped self-medicating a long time ago and really given meds a chance. Maybe I wouldn’t have gone through as many long, awful depressive periods. I know there is no sense in dwelling in the past... but FUCK! 

Now I’m present in my own life. I think that is really what I’ve been craving all along. I never wanted to stop feeling... but along the way, I learned to numb when I experienced pain. Then eventually, any feeling that seemed difficult was one that I chose to ignore. I turned off my ability to feel. I chose not to try. Choosing sobriety has helped me to see what I’ve been ignoring. Medication has helped regulate my moods so that I don’t constantly feel the need to numb. Things are clearer now. It has taken me seven years to arrive in this place. The funny thing is that I still feel like I’m 20 years old. 

[herperspective-blog]

Hush now, don't explain.

Its been about a year since I started therapy. Actually its been longer than that... I guess there really isn't any way to measure the amount of time that one searches for their identity. Isn't it really an endless pursuit? I used to think that when I was finally able to tell people who I am, I would have succeeded in finding happiness... or at least the approximate amount of happiness that the average person experiences on a week to week basis. I also used to think that the inability to achieve this would ultimately end me. My perspective has changed in a variety of ways over the last several years but I won't say that I've found any answer in particular to the questions that I've been asking for most of my life thus far. However, I will say that I've found a level of contentment that, until now, was previously foreign to me. 

I burned my arm at work the other day. While preparing a room service order, I picked up a hot plate cover and let it briefly rest on my forearm. The result of this choice is a small incision-like mark on a fleshy canvas that also serves as a reminder. This mark, albeit different than the others, looks far too familiar for me to not grimace when I look at it. I found my reaction to the initial pain from the burn interesting though... simply because I reacted I guess. It wasn't long ago that I felt numbness consuming me. Sometimes in reflection, I think that the numbness scared me more than the emotional agony. I can't be sure now because both are equally worrisome in the context of my future; but I think that I'm starting to release the fear that was filling the space in my mind where hope is supposed to be. My therapist told me a few days ago in what we agreed was our, "last session,"  that I've come a long way. She told me that I should be proud of the progress that I've made and acknowledge the work that I've put into this journey. I don't think that the journey is quite finished, but this portion really feels like it has come to a close. I don't know everything. I often feel like I don't know much of anything, but now that doesn't bother me as much as it once did.

Dated... somewhere in 2011? Posted upon re-reading it just now. How interesting it is to see where we’ve been.

[herperspective-blog]

Candy says, "I hate the big decisions that cause endless revisions in my mind..."

I've never thought that at any point in my life, I would be able to say that I've done some of the things that I've done in the past 6 months. But here I am. I was also unaware of how incredibly easy it is to completely fuck yourself over. I have done that multiple times in the last 6 months. Someone should give me a goddamn medal for releasing such a ridiculous amount of destruction into my life. BUT here is the thing ... I could call it destruction and dwell on my mistakes daily OR I could look at it all as a collection of experiences in my life that created a beautifully honest environment filled with rebirth and discovery. I would prefer to look at it that way...

Yeah, I fucked up. I'm reminded of that on a daily basis... but if I've learned anything from said fuckups, its that I CANNOT keep them alive in my mind. In order for me to learn from them, I have to do just that, learn from them. Getting drunk at 9am before an exam that I'm not prepared for is obviously not an effective way to cope with chronic disappointment in myself ... neither is choosing to sleep in a car night after night in an attempt to avoid a situation in which I must humble myself enough to ask for help. But now I'm in a different place - trying to stay on my medication, trying to abide by rules that are killing my independence, trying to regain trust that was never really there, trying to rebuild a family, trying to construct the foundations of my mind ... and its not easy. But I really think I can do it.

There may be plenty of people in my life that may never see the world the way I've come to view it ... and my perspective will probably reshape itself time and time again after experiencing new things. But in spite of what has come to pass or what will come to pass, I'm convinced that I must hold onto the memories, ideas, dreams, and general thoughts that support my current worldview. I don't have to know everything about what I think ... and I never will ... but I do have to support my beliefs every step of the way.

Right now I believe that freedom is an incredible gift that I've taken for granted and when I think of finding true freedom in providing for myself, I can't imagine any state of living that would make me happier. I believe that the idea of God may be a source of hope for some, but may also be a source of frustration and hurt for others. I believe that family is important, but so is self-preservation. I believe that individuality is an endless source of beauty and that love can come from anywhere. I believe that its important to speak your mind and that failing to do so can result in regret. I believe in FEELING ... and responding to your feelings carefully ... but nevertheless continuing to acknowledge elation, pain, anger, temperature, air, sound, touch, and anxiety.

I can't continue to verbally agree with anyone that thinks there is one way to live a life and I won't continue to do so. This decision may hurt some of the people in my life ... but living two lifestyles has been ripping me apart for some time now. So really, all I'm doing is finally being honest about what I really think, see, and feel - and honesty is what a lot of people have been asking of me. Well, here it is. Watch me go now and you'll see what I feel in my actions. If you don't like it, I'm sorry you feel that way but I'm glad you're choosing to feel something too. I just wish you could expand your repertoire of feelings beyond disappointment. I finally made the choice to do that for myself and its one of the best decisions I've ever made.

[herperspective-blog]

Fuck.

I just want to say right now - 

Fuck religion.

Fuck hiding the art the makes up my body and mind.

Fuck silencing my opinions with manipulating traditions.

Fuck my lack of freedom.

Fuck my non-existent privacy.

Fuck the people that keep giving me unwarranted advice.

Fuck the money that I owe to a variety of hospitals and psychiatrists.

Fuck the inability to function in the midst of self-hatred.

... and fuck this whiny entry that achieved absolutely nothing.

[herperspective-blog]

Making choices quickly.

It seems that I am unable to make choices quickly at the moment. I really hate myself right now. I love this feeling but I hate the feeling that its giving them in return. I feel like I can't think. I'm pretty sure that I'll be fucked tomorrow. My anxiety and mood issues will be heightened indefinitely. Oh god. Its Easter. Jesus Christ. I can't control more than a few muscles at a time.

[herperspective-blog]

In the past few months, I have taken self-medication to a new level; perhaps a level that I'm not comfortable with. For some reason this anxiety and anger inside myself has succeeded in clouding my mind significantly more than it has in the past; and as a result, I have sought out in-the-moment relief because the present often seems unbearable. There are days when I feel like I can control it and direct my thoughts elsewhere; while on other days I can think of nothing else. But the thing that saddens me most, when I think about this darkness that has been consistently reappearing in my life for the past 10 years, is the fact that it forcefully alters my perspective of the world - and it always does so without my consent. In my ideal reality, the world would look like a breeding ground for opportunity every day, but I usually can't even see past my bedroom door. And this lack of control and happiness is really pissing me off. So now, more than ever, I've been literally fighting for the ability, the right.... to own my perspective. Right now, I'm just so fucking relieved to have an army of friends and family behind me because I know I wouldn't be able to do this alone.

[herperspective-blog]

Featuring local musicians Michael Lewis and Jeremy Ylvisaker.

[herperspective-blog]

I can't stop listening to this song.

While driving yesterday, I found myself getting lost in the "poetic sound" (a term I like to use when referring to musical moments and excerpts and noises that create the "ultimate cathartic experience") of the talented Andrew Bird. This experience was (and still is...) particularly memorable because it has been a very long time since I've experienced this kind of event. I warmly welcome this familiar realization of the world around me and I hope that this positive state of mind will eventually walk hand in hand with my perspective once again.