Have you ever looked around a room and wondered: where did I get all this crap? How did it get like this? I’m sure you have, but right now I’m doing it so let’s pretend it’s something mystical…although kinda not.
I’m sitting on my bed with my laptop, staring, just staring, and I noticed an empty bottle of 9 to 5 from LUSH. It’s been empty for weeks, and it’s still there. I think, I got that before going away and finished it when I got back. It just sat here the entire time I was going through that roller coaster ride. Stupid make-up remover, being all inanimate and judgmental (it’s all in the twist of its jib). Then there’s a toothbrush, why is it in here? How did it even end up in here? A mess of plastic containers full of cosmetics I’ve bought on a whim and never used because I don’t know how. Books I’ve forgotten to read, figurines all askew, and axolotls that never seem to admit they’ve been fed. I think, there’s a lot of life in here, not just in the living water-aliens that lurk in tanks, but in everything I’ve touched, smelled, admired, turned over in my hands. I pause and I stare and I think, everything is a mess and I don’t know how it got this way.
Then I see Groot. Sitting there amidst all this junk.
This little inanimate object, just like that damn judgmental bottle that I scowled at, but it makes me smile. I’ve moved the clutter that was around him, but the pure positioning of the fallen flower made my heart feel all warm and fuzzy. That little painted on face of Groot’s, looking at it with innocence and cuteness.
Then I start to get all deep and broody. I think, I need my flower. I need to be able to sit here and let all my thoughts fly around my head, all the distress hammer at me, the hurt claw away, and the unknown – that bastard unknown that drives me mad, all those “what ifs” – prowl and cause whatever racket they want. But me, I need to sit there and admire a little fake blue flower and smile at it the way Groot smiles at his.
What I also need to do, unfortunately, is look at the clutter I’ve allowed to accumulate in my brain and think how did it get like this?
My psychologist is a smart man. He taught me that education and understanding are massively important when it comes to mental illness. It’s uncomfortable to explore the why of things because it means addressing those things in the first place, but the answers might be enlightening – I can’t pretend they have been for me yet. There’s a bit of an ooo ahhh moment, but it doesn’t automatically heal. I think it’s healthy to question though – healthy to question our beliefs to keep us in check with what we truly believe and not what on that specific day at that specific time we’re being told to believe. I guess in that same regard it’s important to question why we believe certain things about ourselves, and search for what external influences there might be to that.
For example, why the fuck have I placed so much pressure on myself about my appearance when I want to be an author?
Have I always felt that my breasts were too small? That my hair was too thin? My nose too big? My lips not plump enough? My hips too wide? Why can I write a list of what I don’t like but then when asked what I do I smile all creepily and slither off like Uriah Heep. If this were a different time in history would my list of dislikes be entirely different? I think they might be…
Then I take a picture like this to send to my boyfriend. We’re long distance, before him I didn’t do the whole selfie thing (I mean mass amount of selfies…). But I don’t see myself in these pictures. I have actually quizzed him, “But do I look like this?” I look kinda happy (I guess you can tell I’m not really smiling by my eyes), I look pretty confident, but I don’t feel it’s me. Back to that broody place…maybe it’s because I know it doesn’t represent all that clutter in my head. Heck, do any images ever really represent anything when posed? It’s all just faff. For instance, I know that I’m holding my hair like that because I think it makes it look a bit better, I know I’m smiling despite probably sleeping only a few hours the night before, I know I won’t have eaten, and I know with absolute certainty that the person I took that picture for I am in complete turmoil about. But, smile!
I mean, I have pictures from when I was with my boyfriend, posed outside in the bright sunlight of Hawaii. But inside that house was our mess. The actual mess we had created from neither of us having the energy or will to clean, and the mess that had become our relationship. Yet there we were, smiling into the camera, looking like a happy newly engaged couple when just half an hour before we were at each others throats and screaming from the pain we were causing each other.
“How could you do this to me?” being a commonly yelled phrase. “How could you break us this way?” another. In pictures though? We’re fixed. We’re content and we’re in love. Now, I know that we are told not to believe what we see when it comes to the pictures we see posted on the internet. But my god is it hard not to get sucked in. I scroll through instagram and I see images that leave me feeling inadequate, and I wonder, why am I allowing this stuff to make me feel this way?
Why am I letting it concern me at all? After all, like I said up there, I want to be an author. I want to be an author, right?…
What do I truly believe?
You know, I think I know the answer, it’s just the solution to get to it that I’m struggling with. Like in primary school when they want to see your working out but you got the answer from Katie, and for fucks sake, Katie, move your arm so that I can see that and copy it down too. I hate maths, because I’m bad at it. I hate Katie too, because her arm was all clutter and in the way. I guess if I’d just pushed her over and broken it then…this is turning into a weird way of wrapping this up. What I’m trying to say is, once I work through the clutter I guess I’ll see the solution, and that’s the most important part of being able to say: FUCK IT.
Little notes: If you made it this far, you deserve a medal. This post should have come with a cuppa tea needed disclaimer.
I’m sorry my rambling might seem a little boring or disjointed this week, it’s been a rough one. I wish I could talk about what has been happening but it isn’t my information alone to share. Perhaps, in a round about way, I’ll be able to address that issue head on in a way that doesn’t reveal too much about others. I’m distracted though, which if you think this blog is rubbish, I’m going to blame that. It’s also the reason for my lack of fiction post on Friday and for my absence on all your blogs. I’ll be back though. Oh ho ho, I’ll be back!
I hope this doesn’t post with the huge ass picture of me like it always seems to choose to. Use Groot ffs, he’s top!
Oh! Pandora had a ruddy parasite! She’s being treated for it now, and so is Seb, so hopefully that will be all cleared up soon. Because no week is complete without ferret photos, here are the loves of my life. My own blue flowers.
Bonus Pandora video I put on my Instagram – with even more bonus cringy music!
Finally, it’s no longer really Sunday, but I’m going to lie and say that it is. What? It is somewhere in the world!
I hope you have had a fantastic week, and oh, finally lastly finally: thank you for the encouraging words about my book! It means the world to me. Thank you!
Why am I hesitating about posting this? In my last post said be fearless.