On the topic of: Meaning

Over the past year I've realised, I add meaning where there is no meaning. And I've thought about it well, it just comes natural to me because like most, you see the world as you are. It could have made me feel outright delusional having assumed the greater more colourful story line at every point if I had not met the people I did in Barcelona. 

Barcelona changed me in a lot of ways. To know that there is a whole army of people who express love in the same way as you coming from a place of authenticity where it never was an act (yay!) is probably my go-to thought as of late, when I draw the bar for which I set my standards.

I've also realised that no matter what you've been through or where you've been, you're still in your own company at the end of the day. I am even stretching to the notion where I could  be sleeping next to someone, but it won't even be that same thing anymore. Because now I want strength, not codependency. I want it so it's like, two people on separate paths that cross more frequently than most and when they do it is the purest moment -- always "home" -- and when you look at them you are looking at the extension of your very own being -- and it is a feeling of comfort, peace, confidence, strength and so much love it does not have to be said.

And I feel most at home when I can be my purest self with someone I trust and love, but I've realised that being this way, even if you trust and love them, to someone that doesn't come from the same place can inflict the worst kind of pain.

Sometimes people think I'm a little idiotic, and it's okay to step on me. It's hard for me to express the point sometimes, because I can't believe it just isn't known. I've always encouraged people to be their most outspoken, authentic self around me -- because that's where real bond is built for me. Without it, I find it waste of time, energy -- because I am being that authentic self with you. So if I'm displacing it, then that's my own fault. But my approach is always this -- over time, you learn about someone -- gaps that needed filling get filled, questions you have get answered -- and I'm not the type to cut someone off because they've behaved really poorly towards me (except the one), because after time and immersion with that person, I stop taking it personally. Even to the questionable characters - I stop taking that personally. I will still honour you as a human being, but it will only ever go so far, you know?

I think that allowing people to reveal their ugliest side helps in some way. They might think I'm a doormat, but they don't know I'm actually watching them. When people like me it's generally because they think I'm smart -- I don't really know how they forget sometimes. Maybe because I struggle a lot. Maybe forgiveness looks stupid to some people.

Whenever I am upset, it's out of disbelief and betrayal that I was revealing my authentic self to said person, and that was taken for granted. 

This week I've found out, my passionate, hyper self is actually really calm with the right company (he will be called Z). My mind can be on 10 different planets at the same time but with the right person, I'm no where else. So much so I haven't had a suicidal episode in 2 weeks. So much so I'm starting to wonder about the relationship I have with myself, and what it could turn into, if I start to treat myself the way said person (Z) treats me.

Before I left Barcelona, my housemate who became a big brother of sorts, Alfonso, told me something like, "I really hope you have become closer to yourself, discovered more of yourself after this, and more so when you are back in Australia."

You know sometimes you can be the clumsiest, craziest, or reserved, observant, whatever - but around the right company, you really don't need to explain yourself.

 “So many went on a quest to tame her,
The only man to win her heart was the one
Who was also free.”
― Nikki Rowe

“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.”
― John Joseph Powell

We are not like others

Do you ever think what it would be like to be like other people? Normal people?

We are not like others. We have claws for a reason.

I'm with you.

And I with you.

We're together for a reason.

God's plan?

You will not die while I wake. You will not surrender while I live. If I have one god damn purpose in my cursed life it's that.

You are one man.

I'm more than that and you know it.

Whatever you have done, whoever you have made yourself, I'm here to accept you.

You know what I am.

And here I stand.

This is not a review, this is me reacting

Flesh And Bone has just trumped my love for the great Hannibal Lecter and Miss Ives. I could never imagine anything more perfect. 

Whenever I doubt myself it takes this sort of thing to empower me-- seeing all the things that are normal to me, put on screen in the most dark and tantalising ways. Top it off with some beautiful piano playing and really, really divine ballet. 

It is heavy, but not in the unfamiliar, I'm so curious kind of way that Lecter or Penny Dreadful has. This heaviness mirrored every inch of my past, and present. Every tear I cried in those 5 episodes is me saying, "yes, someone gets it." At some points I would watch my own life unravel and watch the girls react in the exact same ways I did, and do.

I wonder if such emotional vulnerability comes from a place of strength, or weakness. I wonder if trauma and mental illness is known enough. Or accepted as a fucking part of this sore excuse we call for a human race; on justice killing sprees for their own selfish causes and for what? All with a fucking smile and a side of, "hey pal."  Throwing out shit at whatever the cost because they don't fucking give a shit about what you've been through. Feeling like they can because of the amount of manipulation they can get away with everywhere else. That's how you win! 

"You achieved nothing." Fuck you. FUCK YOU.  

And I went on a tangent. 

I went from being a fucking loser pity party sorry shell of a person, to, wow Barcelona! You fucking get it! Am I crazy? Yes, okay, but who the fuck isn't yeah. I just have a fucking preference to the kind that doesn't fucking hide shit! People on the other fucking side of the planet are more real and kind hearted serving my fucking café con leche than half the shit I know that says oh hi hello so I can stroke their fucking ego. Fuck you.

you fucking see all my internal dialogue in that series. Everything. And I hope everyone that loves me or has loved me, gets to watch that shit I would LOVE to hear their thoughts because I am pretty fucking sure, if you don't like it, you don't really like me. Or fucking accept me. Whole. As past present and future. And if that's too fucking woo-woo for you, think bigger. Try a dildo up your fucking asshole and tell me if that doesn't actually make you want to cummmmm.

Sail into I N F I N I T Y

Simply everything about this! More specifically, the spoken intro and from 4:30 onwards. 

It has taken me bloody 5 days to get back on track and I have to live this up. On that note, I need to make another blog, apart from this one, to recount all the good stuff. My therapist in Barcelona said it is the healthier way to go. I will sleep on the URL name. I do understand her point.

Here comes the true test. Let us see what I can make of my life post-Europe. 

My rollercoaster mind

I've always wondered if everyone felt the way I felt in their own bodies. If this was the normal and why are they better at hiding their struggle. 

Feel like I'm going through this massive learning curve and kind of wish I had my closer friends around me now but this is probably for the best. With all the madness, I'm able to look at things on hindsight given a couple days.

I'm watching how I handle everything and  today was prime example of how I woke up ready for bloody anything, lunch with a friend then half way through exploring my mood changed. I wanted to go home alla sudden. And then after that I had the hardest time replying to anything with a smile on my face. I had a million other things in my head and I couldn't pay attention to anything being said. It comes off awkward sometimes.

When I got home I got into another high. I was playing music on repeat, dancing, singing and typing essays of updates to other friends. Then come 9pm, I'm down again. Bizarre.

I'd suffered mild depression my whole life sometimes severe through several of the chapters then PTSD and trauma and now I think the end result are these crazy highs, and crazy lows. I never thought I would cycle through this in my adult life but having to start again and make a life for myself on the otherside of the world has really pushed me. And I've really struggled. The highs and lows come faster because of the stress I guess. 

My regular verbal diarrhoea to several friends during hypomania was something I've regretted constantly the past few weeks, and I can only imagine what it's like on their side. Kind of hate imagining that. And then just going from the world is mine! To I wanna die, I wanna go home. And they get that too. 

So anyway, psychologist tomorrow and hopefully I'm prescribed the right stuff. 

I know nothing. I know love.

It could go two ways. You either know more and become the biggest expert on everything, or know more and know nothing. I'm the latter. I'm largely an idealist and have been for my entire life. I think based on fear systems instilled in me as a child where I thought being a good person was the ultimate goal in life. Not to say I blame my childhood, but there's no denying that the smallest things that happen in life, unconsciously turn into habits when you do not place some kind of authority on the autonomy you have in e v e r y damn situation. And for me, I've realised the only way I can function in some kind of functional way is to dismiss that kind of autonomy and stand behind my ego, or my person. For lack of better explanation, I have realised that my awareness of being a person with potential, holds me back from realising any kind of potential.

When I started teaching, we were chucked into the deep end and I was teaching lessons on day 2. If you know me, you'd know that this is something I fucking despise in life, being put on the spot or, given no time to mentally prepare for something totally out of my arena so to speak. I burnt out in the second week and cried in the bathroom with no one knowing, twice. In between lessons and during our lunch break. I was fucking dismantled that second weekend and I was ready to call it quits. 

Then I realised I'd already done two weeks, and in the same way I submit to my feelings of depression and suicide, I decided to submit to the progression of life. Which is funny because individualist conversation we all know and love is very proactive and fabulously assertive. Somehow, I managed to get through the second half of training with no relapses, while others were having them in the 3rd/4th week.

I'm in no way bragging. I don't understand half of it, but this whole part of the trip called "finding myself" has really been in action if not anything else. I am now so familiar with my strengths—of which are few and far between, but quite reliable! And my weaknesses, which I don't term weakness as in this whole process I have found out, apologising for who you are is the worst thing you can do to yourself, and sets you up for a myriad of other stressful things waiting to happen.

I rewatched an old favourite film called "Mirrormask" and for me, I was mostly watching it with how it made me feel when I was younger in mind. But for D he saw it and gathered all sorts of insight. One being the scene with all the Sphinx house cats and they advised Helena and Valentine, "don't let them see your fear," which is basically how it is for everything in life.

In life, becoming independent and creating a life for yourself requires exactly that. And that is something I've not ever been able to achieve if not for this entire experience here. I've issues with bureaucracy and these unsolved obstacles they did not footnote in our disclosures and I'm only the same as everyone else but then I wonder, if I am the same then why am I the only one who wants to go back home?

I have never in my life experienced so much love and care from a group of people I have only known for a month. We've all left our homes to start new lives here and I don't think I could be luckier to have been put in this group. Absolute rockstars. And forget the politics for a second because this rainbow of people have taught me one thing: never abandon who you are.

I could have come out to a few of my new found friends that I had depressive tendencies and oh by the way if I disappear off the face of the earth for a while it's because I'm in a hole, don't take it personally. But chick, I couldn't bring myself to it they were all such legends. And even that one bum class i taught where I was basically in a hole, at school with incredulously bleak cognitive functioning, feeling so fucking alien because why am I the only one burnt out so early-even then, they smiled at me and encouraged me, "you'll be right."

Which is basically half of my internal dialogue now. I'm so foreign and so homesick and should be really grabbing teaching by the balls here, at least for a little bit, even without the bureaucracy sorted, but I've coasted. And I coasted and I've applied for positions back home that I would've never for the life of me thought I could do. And now I can. So I figure, ok there's that. And then I figure, if you are gonna stay here then at least do something. 

I'm trying to turn my life into a series of meaningful, positive events that will build my character and person into a woman I can be proud of. And I've found out that post-trauma, post anxiety post all of that shit, I'm still one hell of a ride. And I've realised that it takes people who are well familiar with that (personally or through close ties), or people with real openness and huge minds, to get past my initial reservation. 

In the entire training group I have met one real friend. And I've made loads of friends, but this guy and I have more in common than you'd probably expect. And I think there's a vibe to it. And I think we figured that out early. And I digress.

Point is, I'm so beyond knowing anything that I accept, I know nothing. Nothing is my everything. Am I certain about anything in my life? Hell no. Do I miss it? Hell yes. And you can argue nothing is ever certain in life but I will tell you that some people do not know what they  have infront of them, and for someone like me, with nothing but forks in alien roads I will tell you, being certain about anything, and wisely certain about it too, is probably one of the most (strangely enough) liberating things you can experience. Because how fucking great is it to be able to see yourself in your environment, and in others. Honestly, it's not a show for narcissism, but familiarity and home is exactly what makes me feel complete. Can I be complete without it? Maybe. But as much of a gypsy I am in my heart, my mind needs to rest sometimes. I'm pretty old school in my head. Liberated old school. Wine and dine, then call me your little slut. This kind of thing. 

I don't really understand how people become such experts in life. Then again, those are the kinds of people that get what they want. Society supports that! Maybe there's something to it. Maybe that's phase 3. How the hell did so much happen I feel like I'm going through some apocalypse of the old. 

In any case, I've realised that my bravery is the equivalent of me not being so present in myself. Which sounds kind of deluded, but tossing my heart to the wind is the only way I find anything gets done in my life. Somehow, it always works out. Maybe I trust myself that much.

Lady Cypress

She stood in front of me, gun in her left hand, cypress in her right.

"I can't draw the flower without an eraser," I said.

She took me in a rush, smashing her right hand into the table. I shivered so deeply I almost remembered what it felt like as a child. 

"You are not going to be the pathetic end result of all my hard work."

I watched intently as the cypress fell from her hand so gracefully, as if crushing it made it more beautiful. She hastily brushed it off the table, grabbing my neck.

"You pathetic little shit."

She spit on me. I did not flinch. Tears welled from my eyes, unbeknownst to me, trickling slow, like cold lava down my cheeks. The moment it hit the corner of my lips, she threw me backwards off my chair.

"Speak you fucking coward."

My cheek pressed against the soot of the floor, eyes glazed, I caught sight of the cypress again; the little white bulbs of pollen sprinkled so gently, as if deliberate, over its deep red petals. It reminded me of Christmas.

She stood one of her boots on top of it, kicking it towards me dismantled against the friction. I looked up at her, just as I used to with my sweet mother, speaking slow, and sweetly, "Your anger is weakness. You have not lived true pain. I would tell you a story about it, but I'm afraid you haven't got the depth."

"How dare..."

"No," I continued, keeping my pace, "You feel powerful now. I'm on the floor, you're with the gun. How dare you think you are in control here."

She kicked my face, hard. I saw white light and my ears started to ring, my face felt a sensation between numb and burning. I looked up at her again, and this time I smiled.

Two weeks in Barcelona

My first week in Barcelona was entirely magical. I left everything I've ever known behind to inspire myself and a new life that I've so craved for the longest time.

There were many things I wanted to do in that first week but I limited my sight seeing adventures to La Sagrada Família, and La Casa Mila. Both exceeded my expectations in ways I'd never imagined; especially Sagrada Família where I found myself almost crying when I saw the outside, and then crying when I walked in (they were tears I could poker face :p). Such grand intricacy, overwhelming  beauty, which is an understatement, made me reach some kind of spiritual euphoria that I've never experienced in my life. 

Everything was new. I tried to familiarise myself as much as I could with the streets and neighbouring streets of my school and home, and become some kind of expert at the public transport. I checked for places I'd get my shopping done, and figured out my running route. It has been a dream of mine to live in Spain since I was a little girl and now I am here.

My second week in Spain has just ended, and this week was the beginning of my teacher training. I've never been quite so far from home before, but I was looking forward to meeting new people and making new friends. When things started it was underwhelming for a lot of them, but for me it was quite the opposite.

It has been so interesting to see the different personality types on board this journey. Most of them are really eccentric, mostly being English teachers in Barcelona for the adventure and alternative to the life they'd rather not live back home (mostly Britain). There are some that have had years of teaching experience, some with years of linguistic experience, and some with none of either  (me).

We were thrown into the deep end from day one; given our timetables and due dates for all the work, plus our class schedules for when we were going to teach. My jaw could have dropped when I saw we were to teach the next day, but I kept a poker face, everyone else was! "It'll be easy" some even said. Top that off we are learning Macedonian haha.

I was well nervous when it was almost time for my first class on day two. We'd gone through an entire day from 9am-8:30pm on day one and I was knackered. None of us really found time to eat coupled with the fact that we didn't really know the area so when we went for lunch it was more, where can we get the nearest bocadillo con jamon y tortilla por favor? 3€ sandwiches ftw.

And then I found out that wasn't really the best way. That night I bought myself some chocolate milk, bananas and apples. Breakfast consisting of the former two, lunch being the latter. 

It's nothing I'm used to, this way of never having a moment for yourself. But by day 4 (Friday) I had gotten quite used to it I think, to the point where I was quite relaxed around school, although still walk-skipping everywhere. I also found out that going to piss is a great way to mentally relieve yourself. 

The challenge most of all I think isn't so much the work, or the teaching, because I've found out I'm quite the natural at it and I actually have a great time up there? It's the fact that I can't speak straight Spanish, more so Catalan, and going out just for myself has had this tiny ill strain on me because of the language barriers. I can't confidently speak, I can't quite catch what they say without asking them to repeat it twice because no entiendo.  

And then it's a thing I've noticed too where I've been approached by locals for directions. It happens daily. So I gather I come off as Mexican looking or Hispanic in some way. There are some islander looking Spanish people here. And then I feel a bit disgruntled at the fact that I can't understand what they say, except their initial, un momento cariña, una pregunda. The rest is jibberish to me. 

It's kind of a giant tidal wave of what the hell is going on. Lately my solace has been found in the form of my bed haha. And on most days my nightly Skype calls to a 7am Australia. 

Last night the group and I went to town for our first night out. It was fantastic. We went to a bar and then danced some. I found out one of the young ones, M is a dancer and he found out I had some moves in me too so there were some awesome moments when the both of us hit centre of the dance circle just doing some basic salsa or mimicking eachothers moves. Reminded me of K. And thay lasted til 4am in the morning. I got hit on by a French man and two Spanish men both I politely declined in my way. The guys in our group had their eyes on too. T signalled thumbs up with a question mark on his face, and I brought my arm out to the side to signal a thumbs down hahaha. I don't like it at all lol. 

I had a fantastic night out with great people and that's all that matters, but in a strange way I feel completely dislocated today, because I crave something "normal" to me, a trip to BH for coffee with Dan or some grass sitting with Amy. I knew I'd never take anything for granted again after my last break up but here I am, in the land of magic and beautiful people and I've left parts of me on the otherside of the world.

The only thing I keep in my head is I really have to give this my best shot. Apart from all the meeting people and being a teacher, there's this other thing of just being okay that I really need to keep. And what I've found is the way I cope is hardly anything like how most people cope. I need time to myself, I'm not always trying to fill silences, I hardly trust people, and I want to build a life apart from all the loca I get in my everyday. 

It has been pure crazy here. I am so grateful for this experience but I believe I am this thing they call: homesick. 

To second chances and hearts renewed

I sit here slightly intoxicated to pass the time I take packing my suitcase for the Nth time. This time with direction and purpose and all these wonderful things. I am going to Barcelona, and somehow all the shit that tore me down before led me exactly to it.

You never know what lies ahead and this is the one thing I have learnt to accept in the past year, though I still accept it with this kind of warm heaviness. It is kind of everything opposite to what you grow up learning, which is what tends to happen if your plan A, B and C have all failed I suppose. But in a way I've learned to love it because it's taught me exactly everything I needed to know to fill them empty spaces in my heart, and the confusion in my mind. I've learnt the value of friendship, people, appreciating things that I'd overlook before, treasuring the big things as uncertain as they may be.

And that is beauty, but it still weighs heavy on me, because I still hope for the best things and the most wonderful things.

In these 2 years of recovery I have learnt how resilient my heart is, how stubborn my head is, how gung-ho my spirit is and how young my eyes are. I've learnt to accept all these things exactly the way they are, and even fight for them. If it means I stand on my own I will.

I've learnt the most beautiful people are the most vulnerable. I've learnt I've found real friends. I've learnt things aren't always what they seem, and I've learnt that it's okay to abandon everything to start again. I've learnt to choose what to let go, and what to hang on to.

And I start to get teary eyed because, as you grow up you talk less and less about these things to the people you love, because everyone has their own shit to deal with and to be honest, if I could pour my heart out to anyone it would take a mile.

I want so much for myself, for myself, my family, my love-to-be? my kids to be? It's a funny thing to think that, but I really do think of all of it lately. I try to envision a life where I am as strong and able as I can be, nurturing and loving beautiful people I call home. It looks to be a weakness in a lot of context these days, but I think it's what I live for. Love. And a year or so ago I'd agree with everyone and call it weak, but these days it is my strength.

I am many things. Could I ever say I was brave, strong, independent, grounded before? No. Can I say it now? For the most part, yes, I think so. There's a lot that still terrifies me, and so much that, if I spent a second longer thinking about I could cry to, but I choose not to.

I can not wait to live the rest of my life. I can't wait to unfold the next chapter. I am curious as to how I will handle things and how everything will unfold. But if I've ever had anything it is my intuition, and my intuition tells me everything will work out just right.

Cheers, to second chances and hearts renewed. And to life and all the little things that I have learned to love so much.

If you want the world

If you want the world, take it.
If you can't take it, work towards it.
If you can't work towards it, let it go.

If you can't let it go, never bloody quit until it's yours, or die trying!

Because if it is between knowing the difference between joy and ecstasy and choosing between, I choose the latter. Or die being happy that I never chose anything less than that.

Love Flow — Creating Space to Grow

I have somehow managed to regulate my joy where it isn't something so fleeting where I have to keep my hands off the wheel when I've hit a low, for a week, two weeks, til the next fleeting moment. 

In the past few months, it's safe to say that I've accepted that I am a little more emotionally charged than the next person, which doesn't mean I like drama or such things, but I do absorb the energy from the people I keep contact with. I've also accepted everyone is different — and so, put two and two together, if I am tired, confused, uninspired after being around certain people, I stop communication.

And guess what? It has woooooorked. I am happy and free and I am not scared of the future! Well, I'm hella nervous about Spain haha but, really not scared of the future anymore. 

If you end up with yourself and the right company; people who inspire you and believe in you, and have similar passions and direction, energy as you, you will slowly find yourself focusing 100% on only the great things in life! It is you breaking up with everything that disagrees with your soul. And lately I say, is that not the wisest way to live?

Now I'm enjoying things I never would have before; things I would've rushed through just to get to the next bit. Is it not the journey more than the destination? I've been told this and now I can happily attest to it! And when your mind is clear there is so much more you can do to realise your potential and I am grateful for every fucking miserable thing that happened to me, that brought me to where I am and made me who I am, right in this moment.