I’m supppppposed to be writing out a list of things I need to do before my trip to Orlando next month. (Oh, did I not mention this? I’ll explain later..)
But instead, it’s PROCRASTINATION BLOG TIME! WOO!
Of Not-So-Good-Days:
I’ve been moody the past several days, thanks to silly people and their desire to drag me way, way down for whatever reason. But it’s cool, I can take it. I’ve heard wo
rse, really. Definitely been through worse. It just starts to get pretty annoying and eventually starts to bring you down. Oh joy, that’s what I really need right now: even more stress and reasons to mope about.
But, luckily for me, I’ve been building up this nifty little thing called strength since I was a kid.Once upon a time I had antidepressants, then didn’t want to take medicine to feel normal. Then I developed a not so great habit that I still don’t feel completely comfortable to share. Luckily, I did end up kicking it (go me), though I don’t believe it will every really be gone. When I was 20, after dealing with a pretty rough year, I decided I needed something to remind me of that. So, I had ‘Strength’ tattooed on my right wrist so I could see it any time I started to doubt myself. It’s not that I need some silly reminder. But when I start to feel like maybe everything is hopeless, maybe I should give up and change my course, I know somewhere inside of me is the strength to overcome. I can see that bold black ink on my skin, a constant reminder of “You can do this” just for me. Because there are worse things in life, and because I’ve been through worse myself. I can do this. I can make it.
I hate it when I get down on myself. I’m really my own worst enemy, above anyone else in the world. I can shrug off haters. I can ignore petty people and doubters. But my own mind? Yikes. Keep it away from me. Because it seems to know exactly what to say to drag me into my own little hell and make me never want to leave my bed again. But that’s where the whole strength thing comes back into play: I overcome. I pick up my pieces, dust my shoulders off, and keep going. I tend to become angry, or more likely determined to press onward. It’s very, very rare that I just give up and mope about in my own self pity. I battle my depression with all the force I can, and usually win out. It’s something I’m extremely proud of. It’s the most beautiful thing about me. It’s what keeps my body alive, my soul beautiful, and my eyes reflecting that.
I. Am. Strong.
Writing has been one of the healthiest releases for me when I’m trying to overcome any anxiety or depression. Like the image says – Keep Calm and Write Something. Yeah, yeah. It’s a rip-off of the whole ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ thing. But still – it works for how I feel. Working on a piece of art has a similar way of releasing all the bad things from me – I turn up some music and get messy, and for at least that long I can breathe without an ache in my chest and not have to focus on all the bad.And in times when that just won’t cut it – I clean like a crazy person. (I hadn’t noticed I clean when I’m upset until it was pointed out to me some time ago. Go figure.)
That’s the kind of thing I always recommend to people: find a hobby (a non-destructive, illegal, or otherwise bad hobby mind you) that you’re passionate about and let that be your escape. Some people have writing of whatever form, some listen to music, some clean, some go for walks/runs, some paint or draw or sculpt or whatever. Create something better instead of doing something negative. Accomplish something. That’s what seems to work – not hiding your hurt in some pile of useless vices on those not-so-good-days.
The Mysterious Sickness of Doom:
I’ve been making a slight improvement health wise, but nothing as grand as everyone else seems to believe. Eh, whatever. I’ve started working a few hours a day again in hopes of keeping my job (the threat of replacement was lingering in the air), and have slowly but surely started taking on photography projects again (see previous post).
But still no real answers. Still no signs of my previous self.
Why AM I going to Orlando?!:
Hogwarts, my dear lovelies. That’s why.
~Angel
Misadventures of a Misfit 