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Re-invented self re-exploring the world in the re-written views.

15 August 2015

We Are Not a Project

I’m Not Your Project Just Because I Have A Mental Illness - Lexie Lindskog

An open letter to anyone who has someone in their life struggling with depression, anxiety, or self-injury:

We don’t need you to fix us. We are not a project for you to tackle so you can feel better about yourself. We are not a problem to solve. We are not here to answer questions we know full well you don’t want the real honest answer to as a way to lift a burden you choose to carry.

When you ask how we are and we reply “okay,” know that we aren’t. When we have a new scar and you assume it was done to get your attention, you’re right. Not because we expect you to have an answer or to fix the problem but simply because we need you to care enough to bring a bandaid. We need someone who can help us understand why we need to show how we feel inwardly in an outward way. But since we don’t know why we have this need, we don’t know how to help you help us.

When we are depressed and you ask if you can do anything, the answer we are screaming is YES. But most of the time, that yes will be so silent, it’s deafening. We need you to help us clean the house and get out of bed long enough to shower. You can’t fix our problem and we aren’t able to give you the tools you might need to help us. So don’t make us talk about it. Instead, remind us why we matter. Tell us why you need us in your life.

When we are struggling with our anxiety and you tell us it will all work out—that we shouldn’t worry—it feels like you’re squeezing a lemon over an open wound. It’s not helpful. In fact, canned reassurance only makes us more anxious. Because now we feel obligated to act like everything’s okay when it’s not just so we’re not judged by you. If we knew how to get over it, we would have done that already. We aren’t incapable of understanding—of seeing the logic that, yes, eventually things might be okay. But for the time being, nothing is okay, so we walk around bearing a weight so heavy, the thought of breathing becomes overwhelming.

We are not a project. We are not overreacting. We do not have an innate need to be the center of attention. We are a living breathing example of what living life from within a box is like. We can hear everyone shouting from the outside, telling us to break the box and set ourselves free, but we are paralyzed by our own sense of who we are and what we can’t control. So we remain there, locked inside.

What do you need to know to help those around you trapped in a box of depression, anxiety, or self injury?

Don’t focus on breaking the box to set someone free. Instead, build your own box and set it down gently next to theirs. Build a bridge from your box to theirs, clear a path, and always leave your door open.

We all live in glass boxes. It’s how we choose to build a community around these individual boxes that really matters. 

http://thoughtcatalog.com/lexie-lindskog/2015/07/we-are-not-a-project-changing-how-others-deal-with-our-mental-illness/

13 June 2015

Summertime Happiness

The days are getting longer, brighter
The shells are getting longer, wider
And the walls,
Smaller, smaller

Holding hands up high
Surrendering
Though pride clenches
And resists

Throat closes
And the eyes betray
Anxious
And the heart wilting

Rewind quick
To a memory when
Everything was wrong
And everyone had gone

Haunting, pushing
On shoulders abound
Dragging legs
The ears a'whisper...

Vines of regret
Creeping up
Crushing
Pulling
Drowning

The days are brighter
Through the eyes unseen
Through the skin untouched
Through the soul darken

Gripping sunlight
The heart sinks
With fingertips failing
And mind escaping

The shells are wider
Through the sole pricks
Through the tongue gags
Through the hands restrained

Catching familiarity
Elusive as air
Yearned comfort as clouds
Though scars as lightning

The walls
Approaching
Closing in

Fear clutching
Memories dissected
Dignity severed
Left ego abound, unknown amount
Pride pleading

Tortured mind
Begging fleeting whims
In diversion
Finding pleasure

Footsteps
One
Two
And more

Demise or rise
For the soul is hanging
For a thread of saving
In this life i'm wishing

A little tired,
But not exhausted,
Not enough.
Not nearly enough.



Love,
Lina

31 May 2015

Privilege For All Ages

This is beautiful.

http://www.vagabomb.com/This-Comic-Will-Forever-Change-the-Way-You-Look-at-Privilege/

30 May 2015

Monotony Not Always Boring

Our life is frittered away by detail. …Simply, simplify. - Henry David Thoreau

http://elitedaily.com/money/science-simplicity-successful-people-wear-thing-every-day/849141/

29 May 2015

What's Next?

Started this writing a quiet dawn in summery Beijing, a supposedly mature and responsible adult from a sensible small town in Indonesia; though feeling like a lost child in fast-paced Singapore. 

Haven't slept a wink after a night full of bombarding myself with various, possibly inspirational, information. Not sure if it was a good idea doing this in non-optimal condition, but i wanted to do it, anyway. And it is in this blog because i did not think that short, unfortunate, cryptic tweets would suffice, as it usually does. And not sure how i feel about this, or that. 

Haven't been able to sleep well and in sync with the moon rising for about... hmm... months?
Again, not sure how i feel about that; whether to beat myself to sleep well, or just wing it until the body clock is forced to readjust itself... 

In turn, the past few months have been, well, reflective and retrospective... Or, rather, probably more accurately, slightly emotional... Not sure how to wring the emotions out, either; force some tears out, or leave the watery eyes to sort themselves out, hopefully soon... 

Last night, though, was full of inspirational, passionate people. People so passionate, i am aching inside. watery eyes

There are so many stories about how people just want to fulfil their passions, just doing what makes them happy, just doing what makes the people around them happy; how people meet even more passionate people and things blew up to become a spectacularly passionate, joyful affair. 

In the middle of it i pondered why i'm feeling emotional; why the teary eyes. Maybe the lack of passion, dare i ask? i am scared to say that i yearn for the joyfulness, the satisfaction, the fulfilment that people get when they are following their passions. 

Don't get me wrong; there will be hard moments when following one's passions, just like any other moments in life. Yet, the fulfilment when it works, and when it works well... Knowing that one did not give up, knowing that one loved it enough to make it worked, and that, finally, it did work. 

Don't get me wrong; i am not, i do not want to be ungrateful. Being here, writing this, with everything that has lead up to this point; i can't complain. So, not quite sure what i'm trying to say here...

What is it about people who follow their passions, and being able to smile and laugh, from the deepest of their hearts?
What is it about people who do it with heart and love?

The next question is asked with a caveat; i am probably too cautious and idealistic and pessimistic and easily terrified than a normal people should be, and i have two years to find out what i want to do and how to go about doing it. So, how to go about following one's heart?

i am feeling a little envious knowing that people know what they want to do, and are not afraid to do it, and they are doing it brilliantly around the world. Look at those people exploring whatever the world has to offer!

i love to travel. i would love to meet more people from around the world. i would love to be more passionate about... something... It would probably be more accurate to say; i would love to be able to express the passion without having to censor myself, concerning myself that people might not understand, and that people might not, well, approve, i s'pose. 

i would love to be able to express this passion inside, out from where i have been hiding it, in fear that it is embarrassing, humiliating; that i am not supposed to feel this way, to be able to feel this way. i am not supposed to be a passionate person, let alone freely expressing those passions.

Having said that, i am probably a little too rigid to be able to be flamboyant and passionate; formatting the paragraph in the middle of writing just because i could not stand peeking at the uneven edges... Or maybe that was the pessimist talking. 

Not sure if i captured the whole intensity of these feelings that i think i should purge in the hope that this body would function a little less abnormal than usual, but if i missed anything, those would probably come back during the next, err, reflective moment; hopefully not tenfold. 

Reread everything i wrote, and it was, erratic, at best, and at worst, did not make any sense whatsoever. So, cheerio...

The world is wonderful, with wonderful moments to offer and i can't wait to take 'em all. 



Love,
Lina. 

25 May 2015

Where Is Humanity?

"When it reminded us all that, just because we might not have personal experience with a problem, it doesn’t mean someone else isn’t enduring it every day"

http://www.buzzfeed.com/mlew15/19-times-tumblr-got-serious-about-the-struggles-of-h0se?utm_term=.rsyLlO0Zy