souldexterity-blog

[souldexterity-blog]

The Last 6 Months

I have spent the last 6 months trying as hard as I can to move on from a relationship that almost broke me apart. I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to create new relationships, with people that matter and won’t leave or hurt me. I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to find a way to happiness and grow as a person and become something better than what I was before. I’ve been picking up pieces of a broken heart, trying hard as I can to put them back together, and trying to fade sad memories into reminiscent good ones. I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to heal myself, trying to see my past through new eyes, trying to fix my head so I wouldn’t be so sad all the time. I’ve been meeting people, talking to new people, reaching out, trying new things, and ultimately living life as much as I can. 

These last 6 months haven’t been easy, in fact they’ve been far from it. Most of the time was spent alone, sad, full of anxiety, broken, and feeling like I just can’t do anything right by people. Most of the time has been me trying to tell myself to be more positive, and to not be so down on myself. I’ve been battling my mind, my heart, my soul, and all at once. I’ve been so stressed out that I’ve forgotten to eat, forgotten to take care of myself, forgotten to keep in touch with people that matter to me. I grew away from people before I ever got close to them. I shut myself out of the world and faded back in slowly after months of trying to force myself to reach out to someone. 

I’ve been fading memories away and trying to forget things that were just too painful. I’ve been trying to forget this man I fell in love with, this wonderful person I thought I would marry someday, who cheated on me and emotionally abused me, and left me so empty inside like I never wanted to leave him but it was what I had to do to save myself. I’ve been trying to move on, trying to forget, and yet every man I meet I just compare to him and the love he used to show me. Then he passed away, and now I get to remember everything all over again beyond my control. I get to try to pick myself up from it again, trying to tell myself I’ve moved on when I find myself crying about him every other hour because I can’t believe he’s gone and all I ever wanted for him was happiness. 

The last 6 months have been the hardest 6 months of my life. I had no friends at my side when these months started. I had no family to count on. I had nothing to look forward to. I was broken and empty and lost. I’ve been working so damn hard on myself and on my future. I’ve been working so hard to create relationships that matter. Been working so hard to be healthier and more relaxed. Everything has been so hard; and the worst part is that it’s not over. I’m mourning the death of someone I thought I no longer loved. I’m trying to handle stress like I’ve never known before. I’m still healing inside and out, one day at a time; and trying to make the best of everything every second I can. 

All I know is I can’t wait for this year to end; because I need a new beginning. 

[souldexterity-blog]

This Is Me

I have “Ticks” or what I call “ticks”, I’m not great with words, so maybe there’s another way to describe it, but the case still stands and so I digress. I have ticks. Ticks: Things that I do or think or feel which are directly brought into my mind at the result of something happening in this world around me. Everyone has ticks; but most people’s ticks aren’t really ticks at all, not like mine are ticks. See... The ticks I have make more sense in an explanation of what they are, rather than a direct description of what a tick is. 

Tick number 1: I over-explain things people could probably understand quite easily, just out of a fear, or rather an anxiety (if you will) that they won’t actually understand what I’m saying at all. Why do I do it? Well, I guess there’s a lot of reasons why I’ve got this tick. For one, people’s reactions to things I say almost always makes me feel as if I’ve said something confusing. I don’t read people well. I never have.  You wanna know what’s bad about having this particular tick?          People always think I’m just being some stuck up jerk, or that I sound too pretentious. 

I bet the way the first one was labeled, you thought they’d all be displayed that way. Nope. Most of my ticks are simple, and stupid, and don’t really need a lot of description. 

Ticks:

-I pick at my fingers all the time, I’m always feeling them for how smooth they are, and how smooth the nails are, and whenever the skin/nail isn’t smooth, I bite at it until it feels smooth again

-I bite at the inside of my mouth, for much the same reasons as I bite at my fingers, to make it smooth. 

-Everything that deals with numbers must be an even number or end in a 5, or it will drive my mind crazy thinking about it over and over again

-Everything I do with one hand, I feel I must do with the other. If I chew food on one side of my mouth, I must also be chewing food on the other side. If I lean on one foot for a while, I must then lean on the other for roughly the same amount of time. 

-Open cabinets and drawers are unacceptable.

-Things must be straight and even.

-Things should not hang over the edge of other things (I.e a paper’s corner sticking off the edge of a table)

-If I start off using perfect grammar, I must use perfect grammar throughout. If I start off using horrible grammar, I must use horrible grammar throughout. 

-Continuity errors drive me crazy, and I notice them more than others do. 

-Any bumps on my skin must be made smooth. 

-Things must always follow a pattern. 

-I always knock and tap the same rhythm on surfaces, and it must be that rhythm and nothing else. 

Those are a few of my ticks. A few things I define as ticks anyways. I have more than that. Those are just the ones I can think of. 

Here’s a few other fun facts about me:

-I stutter when I talk, but not all the time

-I laugh when I’m nervous

-I can’t read people’s facial expressions very well

-I say things that sound awful, without ever actually realizing how awful the thing sounded until people react to it

-I’m afraid of seeing other people in public bathrooms, and I will literally run out without washing my hands to avoid seeing another person

-I fear calling people I don’t know personally

-I fear being the next one to order, and not knowing what I’m going to get already, or saying it wrong

-I don’t like it when people look at me, because I always feel like I’m doing something wrong

-I can’t talk in groups of people

-People drain me emotionally

-Kids make me feel awkward and out of place, and I don’t like when they’re around me

-Animals give me a sense of peace and serenity, and they make me feel less drained when I’m around other people

-I fear crying in front of other people, even though it’s actually quite easy to bring me to tears

-It gives me great anxiety when I feel like I’m rambling on, or if I feel like I’ve said the same word/phrase too much

-I hate it when people don’t listen when I’m talking to them, especially if they appeared to have been listening

-I hate repeating myself, even once

-I hate when people say, or call me by, my actual name

-I hate rude people, but I am too afraid to ever stand up for myself

There you go. There’s a couple of fun facts. That’s just the random junk that gets tossed around in my head ever day. 

Here’s a few real facts about me, ones that aren’t exclusive to just me, because I know that so many people out there have these same things as well. Maybe the people who understand this whole list, maybe the people who have read this far, maybe the ones that understand any of it, are just the ones who have these things too. 

I have anxiety and chronic depression. I get panic attacks often, sometimes in public. I have hyperthyroidism (Grave’s disease). I am obsessive compulsive. Although not diagnosed, I believe I have autistic tendencies. I hear only one voice in my head, but it speaks to me like that of another person in my mind, and I swear I am a different person in different situations, and I cannot be two people at the same time if instances mingle (I.e my work self and school self, I cannot talk to someone I know from school at work, because I cannot be both people at once). I see things sometimes, things that aren’t really there. 

Here’s a few more random things:

I have had a light induced seizure, and I thought it was a cool experience

I believe in crazy things most people think of as stories

I don’t fear pain or death anymore

I hate most people, but I also like most people

I don’t trust anyone

I treat everyone with kindness, because I don’t want people to dislike me, even though I am very well acquainted with people disliking me

I haven’t had a real friend in years

I have suffered a lot of mental trauma

I do not know how to talk to people

I do not know how to “make friends” 

I do not know how to be “normal” 

I feel like an outcast to this world, like I don’t belong here

I don’t want to die, I just wish I had never existed at all

I love parts of myself, but I hate being myself

I think I am crazy

But I suppose most importantly of all... I don’t know why I’m writing this, this thing I know no one will ever read.  

[souldexterity-blog]

What they could never understand...

I tried so hard to explain it today. I tried so hard. I tried to explain it in a way that they could understand. I... I tried so hard... But... She just didn’t get it. I could see the way her eyes looked right through me, like she heard every word I said and just didn’t listen to an of it. When she spoke... I know she didn’t. I can’t even pretend that it didn’t kill me a little bit inside when I laid my heart on the line, and got back that cold stare. I’m not delusional... That’s just the way she looks at me; she looks at me as if I were. I can’t explain it. I’m not sure that if I did, anyone would listen, or would try to understand it in the first place. 

I know that I’m different.  I’ve always known. 

I know that I see things differently, and perceive things differently.  I know that I react differently. 

I know I say all the wrong things with all the right intentions. 

I know. 

I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t honestly think there’s a way I ever could. 

But I try. 

I try so hard. 

I tried so hard... To explain it.  I just wanted her to understand.  I wanted her to know how my brain works.  She doesn’t get it. 

They never get it. 

They never try. 

I... Can’t even find the words to write, to describe how completely isolated and outcast I feel from this world. From people. 

Words cannot express. 

I know that I am different... And I hate it more than words could ever describe. 

They could never understand it. Not even if they tried. 

[souldexterity-blog]

I don’t drink, and I don’t do drugs

I know myself well enough to know that if I did, I would just become addicted to the escape. 

[souldexterity-blog]

I think at some point I actually just stop giving a damn, and when I did I gained a skill I never even knew I had

[souldexterity-blog]

Mechanics

Somewhere along the line I became someone else. I lost the ability to feel anything at all. I got lost in myself. The mechanics of my heart were never wired quite right. The electric impulses of my mind never knew what would cause pain. I just hurt people and pushed them away. I made excuses for myself so I could believe I wasn’t broken. The truth is that I am. I always was. And over the years it just got worse. I’ve caused more pain than anyone should be responsible for; and at times, wasn’t effected by it in the slightest. Maybe I’m crazy? Or maybe that’s just another excuse. Maybe I’m just confused. By all the feeling that comes and then washes away to leave me feeling so empty. By the memory of everything I have lost, and given up. I don’t know who I am anymore than I did before all the heartbreak... and I’m more lost now than I’ve ever been. Maybe I’m just broken...

[souldexterity-blog]

A photoshop drawing of my dog Sheeba.

[souldexterity-blog]

Please, Read this.

I am white. I am in the middle class. I am straight. I am female. I have two parents that love each other, and two siblings. I grew up in a neighborhood that had shootings in the back of the neighborhood. There was a gang problem. I was raped by my brother as a young child, and he was sent away for many years. My parents spent my childhood trying to get him back into our house. I was raised more by my other brother than my own parents. That brother was the middle child, he was troubled, and when we went to middle school he started making fun of me. I was the laughing stock of the school. I was bullied daily, and I was really depressed, and I never wanted to go to school. I am an introvert. I never was good at socializing. All the friends I made, I have lost. I was depressed for years. I almost killed myself on more than one occasion. My parents barely had money to pay the bills and still buy food for us to eat. I was never popular. I never had a lot of friends. Most of my life has been very lonely and sad and uneventful. 

And I don’t want anyone’s pity. 

I don’t want anyone to feel bad for me. 

I don’t think the world owes me anything because my life wasn’t easy. 

I don’t think that what happened to me was anyone’s fault. 

I am happy, because I found happiness for myself. 

I decided my life has been good because I choose to live in the memories of all the good things that have happened, rather than all the bad ones. 

I am telling you this because people decided that just because I am white, because I am straight, because I am in the middle class, because I have two loving parents, that my life was easier than theirs. 

I am telling you this because there are people who deny that telling me that is wrong. 

Because there are people who think it’s okay to tell me my life was easier because of my circumstances. 

The way I see it: Pain is pain. Struggle is struggle. 

If we are all truly equal, if our lives are meant to be seen that way, than how was my life any easier?

I’m not saying that people haven’t been through situations worse than mine, I’m just saying that for me that was the worst it was, and it was bad, and that even though it could have been worse in some peoples opinions, it wasn’t possible for it to be worse for me. 

A person walking in shoes that are too small, whose feet keep getting rubbed over and over in the same spot, until blisters form, and pop, and bleed, is going through pain just the same as someone who has never worn a pair of shoes before and is walking over rocks and dirt and getting cuts and scrapes.

Pain is pain. 

Life is hard for everyone. 

And I don’t believe in privilege. 

Because I have known people whose stories are much sadder than mine. And I have known people whose stories are much happier. And when someone tells me a time they felt pain, I don’t look at the whole story, I don’t look at their circumstances... I just listen to the story, and feel sympathy for the fact that they felt pain. Because I’ve been through pain. And I hate to think of anyone else going through it. No matter their circumstances.   

Because pain is pain. And life is hard. And we all deserve sympathy. No matter what. 

[souldexterity-blog]

       Halls of Silence by JasonEngle

[souldexterity-blog]

http://lindseyburcar.deviantart.com/

[souldexterity-blog]

Anniversaries

A year ago today was just days after I lost the closest thing I ever had to a sister. A post on my Timehop from a year ago said that if someone shot me in the chest it would be less painful than feeling what I felt in that moment. There’s videos on my laptop of me talking about the situation, just sitting there, crying my eyes out in so much pain... The person I had turned to in that moment of such deep pain, turned out to be the person that caused it... and sitting here a year later I know I would have done things so differently if I had known that. I trusted the wrong person, turned to the wrong person, and I regret it so much. I miss the happiness I felt with that girl I considered family. I miss all that joy. It makes me sad knowing that she now has another friend she’s just as close to as she was to me, and that, that friend is someone I introduced her to. It makes me sad that she has someone to turn to through everything, and I have no one. Because that person I turned to was the person who caused that girl and I to part ways. And when I discovered that, I had to tell that person to leave. I had to walk away from the only person I had because I couldn’t trust that person anymore. That girl I considered as a sister, she has all her friends, and people to count on, people to talk to, people to be happy with and make memories with. She’s moved on from me. And I, I have regret at trusting the wrong person. Regret that I turned to that person in my sadness. And I have sadness that I am alone now. Of friends, I have none. And as much as I miss the happiness I used to feel, I no longer miss that girl I considered as a sister. I don’t know how to feel anymore. About friends, about people, about how they can hurt you so deeply. I know not how to feel. So I feel nothing at all. I’ve been telling myself for the last few months that I’m okay without any friends, okay being alone.. But I can’t tell if that’s actually true, or just another lie I tell myself to keep from feeling pain.

[souldexterity-blog]

Hyperrealistic Oil Paintings of Haphazardly Wrapped Packages and Gifts by Yrjö Edelmann

[souldexterity-blog]

ART PRINTS BY BARBARA CHICHESTER PAINTOGRAPHER

Van Goghs Aurora Borealis Reflection 

Van Goghs Aurora Borealis 2 

Van Gogh’s Aurora Borealis 

Van Goghs Orion Nebula by Barbara Chichester 

Golden Sunset Treescape 

[souldexterity-blog]

[souldexterity-blog]

I saw this a few months ago and I didn't know what it was, but I loved it, so I saved it... And now...

[souldexterity-blog]

Painting of Yolandi Visser and her albino rats made by Tanya Shatseva

[souldexterity-blog]

Muir Woods, California