Progress Made

It’s a funny place I find myself in, sitting comfortably in my mid-thirties, rid of all the angst of my late teens to mid-twenties. I still recall the emotional turmoil I was in, the loneliness, the anger- so much anger! Despite the ability to recall it all, in vivid detail, it also feels like a lifetime ago. The suffering definitely helped to shape who I am, but that person, that version of myself seems foreign to me now.

I remember… staying up all night, watching tv and chatting over AIM with 5 people at once and writing two pieces at a time. I remember all the pent up rage over my (perceived) inability to live a normal life. I remember the feelings of isolation, desperation, and loneliness that overwhelmed me. I remember having my first full blown panic attack one night around 1am, while watching Vanilla Sky, wondering if I should wake my parents to take me to the hospital or let them sleep and maybe find me dead on the couch in the morning. I let them sleep and hoped and prayed I wasn’t having a heart attack and dying like I thought I was, like I felt I was.

I remember… writing dark and twisted poetry about the fury, the sorrow, and romanticizing suicide. I never truly considered it but it felt like such a tempting escape from the misery I was in.

I think back to all the crazy that I attracted to my life during that time. The drama filled people who seemed to find me like I was a magnet and truth be told, I probably was. It seemed like one friend after another was in crisis. My friendship circle consisted of self-harmers, pill poppers, and the like. It was also filled with people who had been dealt some really shitty hands in life but year after year they continued to be the victim rather than become the heroine of their own life. I remember one often repeating, “I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve all of this.”

I remember… finding solace in the darkness of depression, the depression that anxiety drove me into. Misery does love company and I found my tribe. I remember feeling so liberated being able to share the chaos and storms that were swirling within me. I was no longer alone in my looney tribe of misfits. We were all wounded in our own ways and suffering but we had each other and that made it less lonely.

I remember… the clouds starting to lift in my life. The poetry dried up and I feared I was losing my creativity. I remember that the down moments came less frequently, the mood swings not as severe. I remember feeling at odds with myself because I didn’t recognize myself anymore without turmoil. Sometimes, even now, a little part of me misses it. For the creativity that is. There is something about angst and writing that go hand in hand, at least in my twisted mind.

Yet, I wouldn’t go back to it. I like being in a happy place now. That’s not to say my life is perfect but I am more appreciative now. I understand my anxiety better and have a better handle on it. I’m thankful for my struggles because there are somethings one cannot fully understand without experiencing them, mental health issues being one of them. Yes, I remember my battle and I’m grateful for it but I am so content to be exactly where I am right now. 100_0291_2.jpg

Passion Reignited

Lately I am finding my passion for writing, life, knowledge, and learning reignited. Not just reignited. On fire. I’ve been doing a lot of reading; blogs, articles from Twitter and Facebook, etc. I’ve been finding inspiration in many unexpected places. I’m feeling more connected to myself than I have in a long time.

One such source was an article a friend posted on Facebook about the habits of creative people. The article can be found here for anyone that is interested in it. Many of the habits or characteristics the article mentioned felt familiar to me. One in particular was about knowing when you are most creative.

My writing has always been most prolific in the middle of the night. Say after 11pm and before the rest of the world is awake. I used to chalk it up to the fact that I lived at home during that time. We had a very busy household and the middle of night was the only time I was alone and the world was quiet. It was a very magical time for me. I would sometimes work on two different fiction pieces at a time, while I had a tv show or movie on, read message boards online and chatted over IM with as many as five or six people at a time.

Eventually, I quit being an insomniac and started to keep a more normal schedule. My writing somewhat dried up after that. To this day I still find myself missing those times when i was writing so much. It came to me so naturally, it was like I wasn’t even aware of where it was coming from, the words simply flowed, uninhibited.

After reading that article I’ve been excited to see if I can find that magic place in the early morning hours. Granted, now I have my own home with my sister and my three dogs. It is not nearly as chaotic as a small, three bedroom home with three dogs, one cat, six people all living in it. Still, I don’t find myself writing nearly as often as I would like. When I do write there is a little bit of a struggle that often accompanies it. Despite that fact, writing is still soothing and enjoyable to me.

While I have promised myself several times over that I will start getting up at six in the morning to write… It has yet to occur. I am not too upset with myself over it though since I have been sick. Once I am healthy though, the experiment must begin.

As for this exact moment in time, the ideas have been churning and the excitement to write was overwhelming so I am back in the magic hour at nearly three in the morning. Part of me is dreading tomorrow since I am still awake right now but it will all work out.

In the meantime, a list of the things that have my mind working in over drive:

  • healthier living/essential oils/oil pulling
  • a fascinating book and blog I’ve found about open marriages. (Mom, if you’re reading. Don’t panic, it fascinates me but I don’t see it as being for me).
  • what my future holds, assuming I take full control of my life and will my dreams into reality
  • the beauty of acceptance and loving oneself
  • religion/faith/spirituality/Christianity
  • how I can be the best version of myself