0

“Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”

unnamed

Everything has changed. I’m an entirely different person to what I was a year ago; to what I was when I first entered 2016. The story’s the same, the face is the same but everything feels different. I’ve always strived for some sort of happiness, to feel something more than numb. But what this year has shown me is no matter what, happiness is not a destination, but a journey. And perhaps a neverending journey, but with every piece of progress, with every ounce of confidence that I gain, I know I’m closer to what once felt impossible. I’m getting there and it sure feels good.

There’s a thousand things I want to do and I want to change, but for everything I’ve ever gone through, for ever decision I’ve ever made, I’m so glad that I’m here right now. There are days when all I want is to not exist, and those days of feeling nothing are still going to be a part of my life. But recently, those days have lessened and I’m reminded that there’s more to life than what it is right now. I got the chance to travel to Germany, to experience something amazing with the best people I could. I’ve got to write and write and write to my hearts content. At first, I thought that what I was doing in the present would be what I would end up doing forever, and I lost so much motivation because I could never see myself any different than a deadbeat. And whilst I still may not make it in a world where there are so many other talented people; where I can easily be brushed under the carpet and forgotten about, I might just have fun trying. I might be working a minimum-wage bar job with long hours with headaches that hurt the back of my eyes, but these eyes have so much more to see. So much more to appreciate.

Positivity doesn’t come to me that often. Especially not the type where I want to write it and show it because I know soon enough I’ll want to write how I want the earth to swallow me up. Some things won’t change, but the way you handle each situation and each downfall will get better. Everyone is fighting their own battle, but we fight it side by side.

Peace, xoalaskaar.

Advertisements
0

Words don’t help my head

Writing. Putting words next to each other, hoping it makes sense to those who read it. Stick some punctuation in there and watch it all come together. Why doesn’t my head feel like it is together? I can write endless amounts of words and I can write none. Nothing I ever do will help me gather up these thoughts.

I’ve changed. Things are better. Life is better. Life is bad. Nothing changes. These thoughts that I once trailed away from and left on a dirt road have hitch-hiked it’s way back into my head. It hurts. I ache. No matter how much sense of it I want to make, I can’t. My head pounds endlessly, my arms and hands ache. I exist and sometimes I exist happily but there’s moments when I don’t want to. I left behind anti-depressants and started a journey towards happiness, I’ve reached that happiness in many ways, but here I am. Just existing. Things go wrong, people throw what I’ve tried so hard to leave behind back in my face and I’m back at step one. It triggers a lot of emotions I don’t want to feel. It triggers a numbness. It triggers a lack of care. It hurts.

Sometimes I think that it would be better if I wasn’t around. Sometimes I think that selfishly, I want to be around to feel the happiness that people give me. My boyfriend. Sweet and lovely and unselfish. Inspiration to be a better person. My friends; lively and happy and no looming thunder clouds. My brother. Perfect in every single way. I want to be a better person. It doesn’t make sense. Constantly bad and constantly hidden. Sometimes it would be better if I wasn’t around.

0

“These streets are your streets, this earth is your earth.”

Let’s get this straight – everyone with any fragment of common sense knows that discrimination is the worst. It’s a form of unnessacary hate and used by those with a lack of education and pent up anger without any real direction to aim it. It’s like people hating cats because they’re a dog person – one cat may have wanted to scratch your eyes out but not all cats want you dead like that one tabby did. No need to hate the entire species.

Fortunately, we’re in a time where there are more people living alongside each other with respect, but unfortunately, there are still people who think they’re some sort of gods gift to the world and they deserve a whole lot more than others. Those people are, quite frankly, a swarm of house-flies breeding uncontrolably and getting into places you wish they’d just stay away from, like, well, society. There’s the ones that hate gays, the ones that hate blacks, the ones that hates asians, muslims, women, men, curvy girls, bulky men, skinny girls and short guys. There are even people who hate pugs, can you believe it? Neither can I. Mind, I can’t fathom why people can hate someone they’ve never actually met.

Here’s my issue: a person is NOT defined by their looks, their religion, their culture, their skin colour or even their music taste. A person is made up of them – and by that I mean their personality, their humour, their mind, their hopes and dreams. Under whatever attire they wear, under their skin, they are the same as you. The same as me. The same as Shakespeare and the same as every celebrity walking down the red carpet. We have bones, veins and a beating heart that pumps the blood around our functioning bodies. We are the same – please, for the love every small puppy and purring kitten, keep that in mind.

Those who have been the victim of discrimination, whatever the reason, I pray that one day you’ll never have to feel that way again. I also know that a majority of you are the kind of people that would rather educate than fight fire with fire, but there are some who aren’t. And how are we, as living and breathing human beings – how people have come to the conclusion that fighting dicrimination with further discrimination is beyond me. Understandably, it’s the concept of giving others the taste of their own medicine, but does that actually work? No, it creates more animosity. The divide that’s already lingering and has been lingering for decades upon decades only grows bigger. This is not how we should be dealing with it.

In a perfect world, everyone would live happily next to each other. Every person in this world would sit side by side with the ability to respect and accept every difference. But until we learn that education, knowledge and compassion is the most powerful way of tackeling these issues – by giving these hateful people what they want (and most of all, that is a reaction generated through anger) is only making it worse. We need to stand by each other, learn that love is love and if there are people that don’t love you, then show them it’s their loss for not loving you.

Each and every person is beautiful. You’re worth the earth, so please, don’t let the ugliness of others turn you the same way. I stand by you, and so do a million others.

0

“I take back every word that I said,”

Months have gone by and this platform of tangled and contradictory text posts has gone completely untouched. While my hiatus was unannounced, the break was needed. The endless hours I placed into what I thought was therapeutic writing was only my further decline. Instead of overcoming my Depression, I came to terms with it. I accepted it as part of my day-to-day life instead of trying to recover from it. I gave it a name; I gave it a home rent-free. I fed it until it swelled up like a tumour and took over my body like a puppet.

Here’s to a new mindset. Here’s to a new life.

0

Snapping back.

The road to recovery was never going to be easy and it will always have it’s drawbacks. One of those drawbacks is the eventual downfall that you’ve put off for so long; the dip in happiness that takes you by surprise. In the words of John Green, it came over me like reading a book, “suddenly and then all at once.” It was bound to catch up to me after I’d spent so long forcing myself to feel the happiness that I’d be craving; and it was real and I felt the warmth inside my chest expanding at a rate faster than the breeding of house flies, only to dissipate into a toxic cloud of smoke that poisons everything around it. It’s confusing when everything seems to be going right, but your tornado thoughts scream that it’s wrong. The feeling of an upcoming round 2 when you’ve hardly recovered from the first; the terror that it’ll knock you down in one hit.

The constant ringing in my ears to stay positive; the inability of those around me to fully understand whats going on inside my head. The genuine confusion at my own incapability to comprehend my thoughts. The anxiety that everything thats fallen into place nicely over the last couple of weeks are only going to crumble away and slip through my fingers. It’s overwhelming to wake up with the worry about the next thing to go wrong. The need to be detached from everything, to enjoy things without getting too involved. To put yourself into a situation physically, but not mentally.

The road to recovery cannot be achieved without your rollercoaster taking a dip and the experience of pushing your cart back onto the ascending rails. That way, the next time you take a dip, you’ll be able to have confidence knowing you can pull yourself out of this.

Stay strong, the destination to happiness is still achievable.

0

Adventures.

Jess Blog

This is the view of Swansea from the top of a random mountain a friend dragged me up. I knew I would be climbing a mountain, but I didn’t expect to be walking up a hill that felt like a 90 degree vertical angle. It was painful on the calves, rough on the lungs but definitely worth it for the experience. Through chattering lips as the bitter cold stung us (even through blankets and coats), we sat on top of this mountain, overlooking the city and watched life go by while our time stood completely still. While the picture doesn’t do it much justice, I encourage everyone to go out and experience something similar to what I did yesterday. It’s only something small, but it makes you appreciate things a whole lot more.

You look down and you can see the cars driving up and down the roads, stopping and starting at traffic lights or at their destination. It’s like imagining how many people are listening to what, how many people are in complete silence. How many people are having the best time of their lives at that precise moment, laughing until their faces ache and stomach stings? Or how many people are having the worst time of their life, arguing with their better halves as I was sat there on top of this mountain experiencing something entirely new to me? It’s strange to think of all these different lives going on in one area, and that’s just a city. There’s a whole world out there. Filled with people and their lives, filled with lights just like this, filled with love and compassion, hate and regret. There’s  millions of different emotions being felt in just one second, and while you’re watching this tiny city go about it’s business, you truly realise that this world is huge and right now you could be anywhere, but you’re here. You’re feeling, breathing, living, just like every one else is. You’re not alone and even when things aren’t going your way, just remember that there’s a million different people feeling somewhat similar. Life isn’t going to stop for you just like it doesn’t stop for anyone else, but you can shape your life into what you want it to be.

That’s not the only spectacular thing that I came to realise while shivering and cupping numb hands. Not only is there a whole world going on below you but if you take a look up, you’re staring out into the unknown. Into a galaxy; a universe unexplored and unidentified. There’s planets spinning, volcanos blowing, stars dying and in turn a life of a new star. Not only is the inhabitents of this world doing completely different things and living in all these different ways, but there’s a whole unexplored universe out there and who knows what goes on out there.

0

“Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend.”[short]

I was fourteen; you were sixteen when it happened. I had known you for two years after living in the same street since, well, forever. I don’t remember you moving in or actually being introduced to you, we just kind of passed each other and the older I got, the more pleasentries we would share. It was only when you stumbled home from a house party in the middle of summer that you found me hiding up on the concrete steps with tears in my eyes. I think you were too scared to go home too, which is why you stopped to talk. And I needed someone to talk to, which is why I actually spoke to you. You were the stranger I needed to confide in; you gave me the perspective that I needed. You eventually showed me the outlet that I needed and I’ll never believe the people that told me you were a bad influence, because without you, I wouldn’t have made it.

We started speaking more. Bumping into each other more. We stopped the pleasentries and moved into conversation. We compared scars and compared our new bruises over energy drinks and vodka shots. We played music on what would now be considered an ancient brick phone and shared memories that only we could make. Because eventually we became a we. An us. Not in the sense of a relationship, but we became inseperable. School would finish and we would ride our bikes up to the yard where I kept my pony and we would sit in the stable in silence, away from the world for hours until we rode back, shared your last cigarette and said our goodbyes. I’d stand in the doorway and watch you until you faded into darkness before I ascended to my own room with the feeling that things may just get better as long as I had you fighting the world with me.

It was a Thursday when it happened. I hadn’t seen you in the street or online for two days, but that didn’t worry me. It was summer and I knew you had people to see and things to do, the same as myself. But it was the third night after coming home from the stables did I need you. I wanted to talk to you. To tell you that things felt bad inside my head, to have that all important punch in the arm and a badly rolled cigarette to make me feel like there was some kind of purpose for me in this world. After a quick bath, something to eat and a cup of tea, I left and walked down the road to your door. That’s when I knew. Your window wasn’t open and the curtains were drawn. There was no light. Your mother answering it only confirmed my worse nightmares as she took me into her arms and told me. Told me what you had done the night before. Told me how you left this world with a rope around your neck and a note under your feet.

*unfinished*