The Artist and I have been talking a lot recently. We're back to where we were before the weird summer absurdity. He's pretty much my best friend right now because he's the one I can talk to and he gets me. We've been good friends long enough that we're settled into our roles in each others' lives. I'm grateful that we're only friends forever.
Tonight I'm sad. I could feel it coming. I knew things were shifting and I knew the dynamic was changing. It's been impending for a couple of weeks and I've been trying to ignore it...but now it's here and I'm not ready. The Artist tried to console me tonight. At least I know he'll still be around. It's been just the two of us before, we can see each other through again.
I don't really know what happened this time. I was happy, at least content. Then my joy became complete when I finally started writing again. For one brief moment everything was right and good. Then I got caught up in the romance of my poetry and lost sight of reality. Anxiety set in (because the thoughts and feelings weren't congruent, and yet I tried to make them fit) and I made a choice. Things were already shifting anyway, he had been pulling away for reasons unexplained. So I confessed. Now I'm pretty sure my Muse is dead.
It'll be okay...I mean, I'll find a new Muse, no big deal there...but I don't like the idea of losing another friend. I don't know where he suddenly came from but he was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed...and I'm grateful for his influence over the last few months...
I know I need to stop needing, stop clinging, just accept that everyone will leave at one point or another, but I'm not ready.
The Artist is going to start going to a different ward, one for 25-35 year old singles. He's visited already but has now pretty much made the decision that it's where he needs to be. Tonight he was encouraging me to check it out too. I know it's probably a good idea. I'm now pretty much the oldest girl in my ward (with one or two exceptions) and it would be nice to be one of the younger ones again. It would be nice to meet some new guys who are older than me too, I'm not meeting them anywhere else. Maybe I should. Next week perhaps. I can go to my ward and the other ward because the older ward doesn't start till 1pm I think. It would be nice to be able to sleep in on Sundays since I can't any other day.
I'm feeling really nostalgic tonight. I miss a lot of people who have not been around for many years now. I've loved and lost so many friends over the years. With most of them I knew it was the right timing, I knew it was time for us to go in different directions. But there are a handful of people I wasn't ready to lose, and I still feel the loss; I still miss them more than most. But there's nothing to be done.
So I'm grateful for the friends I have. I'm grateful for the memories, the happy times I've shared with people I truly adore and will always remember with a smile. I'm grateful for the new memories I'm making now. This has been a really great year, one of the best ever...the good has outweighed the bad, by far. I have developed friendships with some phenomenal people. I have felt healing and progress. I've tasted happiness and revived the creativity and poetry in myself. It really has been a great year and I have been so blessed!
But now the holidays are here and the depression is more difficult to fight. If the shift I'm predicting occurs, I may decide to hibernate again this year. I have work, but otherwise I don't have anything I have to do for the next month...maybe I should just work and catch up on sleep.
I don't know. We'll see...
29 November 2010
22 November 2010
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prove,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
~ William Shakespeare
This is one of my favorite poems of all time. It expresses perfectly my thoughts and feelings about what true love is. It does not lessen when new information or events come to light. It does not change except to become stronger with time. I really hope someday to find someone I love this much...and who loves me. I'm still looking. No one I currently know fits this description yet, but love is something you kinda grow into I think; especially when you've been hurt by fleeting "love" or infatuation in the recent past as I have.
I've worked the last year to overcome the remnants and heal the wounds that still sting now and then. I've come a long way, so far, in fact that I have been writing and feeling and imagining again that love is actually a possibility. I found a Muse that has inspired the romantic in me and I've written some pretty good poems through his influence in my life. I'm pretty sure he's completely unaware, and it may be better to keep him that way, although I would like to know his opinion of me as a poet.
The funny thing about being a writer, and particularly a poetic writer is that I see situations differently than others do. I see a situation or an experience and I am almost immediately changing it in my mind to make it more romantic and poetic. This makes for some great poems, but the trouble comes when people who read the poems don't understand that a poem is not always a piece of the writer, it is something she/he created, but does not necessarily represent the opinions or ideals or true perspective of the person herself/himself.
The real trouble comes when the poet forgets this and starts believing her own romantics. The poems I've been writing are rather intense with emotion and passion. I became overcome with lust of the passion in my poetry that I became confused about my real feelings for the Muse who inspired them. I don't know if it's the person himself, or simply the poetry he induces that I've become somewhat obsessed with. I want to tell him about my experience and what an affect he's had on me and my writing (and healing) process, but I'm afraid that telling him will break whatever spell I've been under.
I haven't written a new poem in over a week...partially because he hasn't been around so much the last week or two, partially because I haven't had much time. I want to write more. I want to write diversely, though, so I suppose I should seek out other muses to encourage and inspire my writing. Oh how I wish I could be as amazing as Shakespeare! If only I could write like him, my whole life would be satisfied and I would want for nothing. But then, writing has become like a drug for me recently. I've become so high from the poems and the passion behind them that I feel it's like an addiction. I'm addicted to the words, the poems, and to some extent, the Muse. I'm sadder when I don't interact with him, and I'm high when he's around.
The life of a poet is absurdly unstable. I wonder if I should really pursue this course as a career, I'm already so unstable as it is. La la la! Right now I just don't care. I love the way it makes me feel, I've never been so inspired or written such great poetry...and I've never been so happy as when I'm sitting by my Muse, writing poetry he has no idea he's inspiring! I really hope it lasts a while...
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prove,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
~ William Shakespeare
This is one of my favorite poems of all time. It expresses perfectly my thoughts and feelings about what true love is. It does not lessen when new information or events come to light. It does not change except to become stronger with time. I really hope someday to find someone I love this much...and who loves me. I'm still looking. No one I currently know fits this description yet, but love is something you kinda grow into I think; especially when you've been hurt by fleeting "love" or infatuation in the recent past as I have.
I've worked the last year to overcome the remnants and heal the wounds that still sting now and then. I've come a long way, so far, in fact that I have been writing and feeling and imagining again that love is actually a possibility. I found a Muse that has inspired the romantic in me and I've written some pretty good poems through his influence in my life. I'm pretty sure he's completely unaware, and it may be better to keep him that way, although I would like to know his opinion of me as a poet.
The funny thing about being a writer, and particularly a poetic writer is that I see situations differently than others do. I see a situation or an experience and I am almost immediately changing it in my mind to make it more romantic and poetic. This makes for some great poems, but the trouble comes when people who read the poems don't understand that a poem is not always a piece of the writer, it is something she/he created, but does not necessarily represent the opinions or ideals or true perspective of the person herself/himself.
The real trouble comes when the poet forgets this and starts believing her own romantics. The poems I've been writing are rather intense with emotion and passion. I became overcome with lust of the passion in my poetry that I became confused about my real feelings for the Muse who inspired them. I don't know if it's the person himself, or simply the poetry he induces that I've become somewhat obsessed with. I want to tell him about my experience and what an affect he's had on me and my writing (and healing) process, but I'm afraid that telling him will break whatever spell I've been under.
I haven't written a new poem in over a week...partially because he hasn't been around so much the last week or two, partially because I haven't had much time. I want to write more. I want to write diversely, though, so I suppose I should seek out other muses to encourage and inspire my writing. Oh how I wish I could be as amazing as Shakespeare! If only I could write like him, my whole life would be satisfied and I would want for nothing. But then, writing has become like a drug for me recently. I've become so high from the poems and the passion behind them that I feel it's like an addiction. I'm addicted to the words, the poems, and to some extent, the Muse. I'm sadder when I don't interact with him, and I'm high when he's around.
The life of a poet is absurdly unstable. I wonder if I should really pursue this course as a career, I'm already so unstable as it is. La la la! Right now I just don't care. I love the way it makes me feel, I've never been so inspired or written such great poetry...and I've never been so happy as when I'm sitting by my Muse, writing poetry he has no idea he's inspiring! I really hope it lasts a while...
10 November 2010
Wednesdays
are my long days at school. My first class starts at 9:30am and my last class ends at 8:10pm. I have a break between 1:30pm and 5:30pm, today I spent that time in the basement of Elizabeth Hall (Weber's English building) listening to Sister Hazel and writing poetry.
I'm in a creative moment and I'm loving it! Between school and my Muse, not only is my poetry improving, so is my mental health. I'm happier these days than I've ever been before. School is extremely good for my self image this semester, I really like all my teachers and I'm doing really well in my classes; and they are just what I have been needing. I have a job (though it's still not what I want, it's good enough for now) that's what I asked for. My soul has revived in a way I never dreamed it would. And most of all, I have really great friends. I have friends in each of my classes (some more friendly than others...the kids in my Adult Development class and in my Poetry Writing class are the best, they make me laugh and we have a really great time). My friends from church are even more fantastic. I'm delighted to be part of a great little group. Each of them contribute inexplicably to my life. I love them all and I am so grateful for them.
Today was a really great day! My groups in two different classes got an A on our presentation, and my teacher and classmates all raved about my last two poems! I love when other poets compliment my poetry. It makes me feel like I might actually have some talent. My name might really be on the cover of my very own published book of poetry one day! That would be really cool!
Now I'm going to bed earlier than I have been. I don't have school or work tomorrow so I'm going to try my best to sleep in and catch up on all the sleep I haven't been getting recently (because I've been playing too much).
Yeah, life is good!
;-)
I'm in a creative moment and I'm loving it! Between school and my Muse, not only is my poetry improving, so is my mental health. I'm happier these days than I've ever been before. School is extremely good for my self image this semester, I really like all my teachers and I'm doing really well in my classes; and they are just what I have been needing. I have a job (though it's still not what I want, it's good enough for now) that's what I asked for. My soul has revived in a way I never dreamed it would. And most of all, I have really great friends. I have friends in each of my classes (some more friendly than others...the kids in my Adult Development class and in my Poetry Writing class are the best, they make me laugh and we have a really great time). My friends from church are even more fantastic. I'm delighted to be part of a great little group. Each of them contribute inexplicably to my life. I love them all and I am so grateful for them.
Today was a really great day! My groups in two different classes got an A on our presentation, and my teacher and classmates all raved about my last two poems! I love when other poets compliment my poetry. It makes me feel like I might actually have some talent. My name might really be on the cover of my very own published book of poetry one day! That would be really cool!
Now I'm going to bed earlier than I have been. I don't have school or work tomorrow so I'm going to try my best to sleep in and catch up on all the sleep I haven't been getting recently (because I've been playing too much).
Yeah, life is good!
;-)
08 November 2010
let us all speak kind words to each other
If someone hit me or caused some sort of physical harm I don't think I'd have much of a problem forgiving them. I might stew over it until the wound heals, but once the painful reminder is gone, it'd be done.
You know the old adage, "Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never harm me"? I don't agree. For me, words cut more deeply than any knife and break me more easily than wood or rocks. The hurtful things people say stick with me and come up at the most inconvenient times. I know that these things are mostly false, lies they used in a moment of anger or when they are consumed by their own insecurities or selfishness, but for reasons I can't explain, I can't seem to rationalize them away. It's been said that it takes 5 compliments to counteract 1 criticism or cutting remark. So I'm in need of about 50 compliments right now to discount the 10 negatives that are still circling in my head. I'm trying to tell myself how wonderful I am, and how incorrect these hurtful thoughts are, but it's difficult to believe myself.
I've been thinking a lot about the things we say to each other. I'm on a quest to infuse the people I know with enough positive thoughts of themselves that when someone criticizes them, they won't be affected. I don't know if it'll work, but it's worth a try. So, I'm trying to not criticize or say anything negative about people, and I'm making a point of giving sincere and genuine compliments instead. :)
You know the old adage, "Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never harm me"? I don't agree. For me, words cut more deeply than any knife and break me more easily than wood or rocks. The hurtful things people say stick with me and come up at the most inconvenient times. I know that these things are mostly false, lies they used in a moment of anger or when they are consumed by their own insecurities or selfishness, but for reasons I can't explain, I can't seem to rationalize them away. It's been said that it takes 5 compliments to counteract 1 criticism or cutting remark. So I'm in need of about 50 compliments right now to discount the 10 negatives that are still circling in my head. I'm trying to tell myself how wonderful I am, and how incorrect these hurtful thoughts are, but it's difficult to believe myself.
I've been thinking a lot about the things we say to each other. I'm on a quest to infuse the people I know with enough positive thoughts of themselves that when someone criticizes them, they won't be affected. I don't know if it'll work, but it's worth a try. So, I'm trying to not criticize or say anything negative about people, and I'm making a point of giving sincere and genuine compliments instead. :)
07 November 2010
stuff you should know about me
1. I'm actually an optimist
2. I'm ridiculously supportive, particularly when I know you're having a hard time
3. I'm compassionate and empathetic
4. I love my friends deeply, with my whole everything (I hope my affections don't make you uncomfortable; believe me, you'll be happier if you just go with it).
5. Once you're in my heart you can never get out (even those who have hurt me still have a place, locked away in the dark recesses though that may be).
6. I have a hard time letting go
7. I have a hard time forgiving when I've been hurt by someone...though I'm working on it
8. Lilacs and Sterling Roses are my favorite flowers (not a fan of bouquets, just one is perfect)
9. I think about you a lot and pray for you every chance I get because I love you more than I can say
10. Meaningful, personal conversation is more sustaining for me than air, food, sleep, etc
11. I want to be a mom more than I want anything else in the world...I want to feel my baby growing inside of me
12. Procrastination is one of my special talents
13. Most people don't understand my sense of humor, but I make myself laugh all the time
14. I'm a lover and a dreamer
15. I take things too much to heart
16. People Matter Most to me
17. I have become more exclusive than I want to be (you hurt me, you're out...refer to #s 6 & 7)
18. Any attention from you sends my heart into raptures of bliss...and yes, lack of attention does the opposite.
19. I love movies, TV, music, concerts
20. I don't sleep very well
21. Poetry is my favorite to write
22. The Classics are my favorite to read (particularly Jane Eyre, Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, Pride & Prejudice, The Lord of the Rings, anything by William Shakespeare or Edgar Allen Poe).
23. I have conversations with you in my mind sometimes
24. I miss you when you're not beside me, and sometimes when you are
25. I have a strange obsession with WWII, Shakespeare, and Edgar Allen Poe
26. I love Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, Joseph and Emma Smith, and Gordon B. Hinckley the most
27. I love America and the Founding Fathers
28. I'll be 29 in just over 4 months...and I really thought I'd be in a much different place by now.
2. I'm ridiculously supportive, particularly when I know you're having a hard time
3. I'm compassionate and empathetic
4. I love my friends deeply, with my whole everything (I hope my affections don't make you uncomfortable; believe me, you'll be happier if you just go with it).
5. Once you're in my heart you can never get out (even those who have hurt me still have a place, locked away in the dark recesses though that may be).
6. I have a hard time letting go
7. I have a hard time forgiving when I've been hurt by someone...though I'm working on it
8. Lilacs and Sterling Roses are my favorite flowers (not a fan of bouquets, just one is perfect)
9. I think about you a lot and pray for you every chance I get because I love you more than I can say
10. Meaningful, personal conversation is more sustaining for me than air, food, sleep, etc
11. I want to be a mom more than I want anything else in the world...I want to feel my baby growing inside of me
12. Procrastination is one of my special talents
13. Most people don't understand my sense of humor, but I make myself laugh all the time
14. I'm a lover and a dreamer
15. I take things too much to heart
16. People Matter Most to me
17. I have become more exclusive than I want to be (you hurt me, you're out...refer to #s 6 & 7)
18. Any attention from you sends my heart into raptures of bliss...and yes, lack of attention does the opposite.
19. I love movies, TV, music, concerts
20. I don't sleep very well
21. Poetry is my favorite to write
22. The Classics are my favorite to read (particularly Jane Eyre, Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, Pride & Prejudice, The Lord of the Rings, anything by William Shakespeare or Edgar Allen Poe).
23. I have conversations with you in my mind sometimes
24. I miss you when you're not beside me, and sometimes when you are
25. I have a strange obsession with WWII, Shakespeare, and Edgar Allen Poe
26. I love Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, Joseph and Emma Smith, and Gordon B. Hinckley the most
27. I love America and the Founding Fathers
28. I'll be 29 in just over 4 months...and I really thought I'd be in a much different place by now.
03 November 2010
And God Said, "I Just Love You"
Yesterday was rough. I've been sick and taking medicine to help me sleep. This medicine is pretty good at making me not cough, but it's also good at making me depressed. No matter how I tried I couldn't shake the blues...and what's worse, I couldn't stop the irrational thoughts from spinning through my mind and dragging me down even more.
Certain statements made by people I no longer regard as friends pummeled my mind until I couldn't see straight. I knew they were lies but they seemed so plausible and applicable that in my physically ill and therefore weakened state, I was defenseless. I went for a walk. I prayed. I tried to focus on homework. Even TV (my usual distracting retreat) didn't help. The later it got, the more discouraged I became. I was convinced that I was nothing more than a burden to all the people in my life, and that they only hung out with me as a last resort because they had nothing better to do, or because they hoped that someone "better" would also show up.
Z didn't want to have movie night (which, of course, I took personally, thinking he just didn't want to be around me), so I had sent out a text earlier in the day saying we'd have it at my house instead. But as the night wore on and more people said they weren't going to make it, I decided it would be best to cancel. So I sent a text out. A couple of the girls expressed disappointment and concern. I wondered if some people might actually really care about me and enjoy being around me after all. I talked with The Artist on the phone instead of texting him, that helped too; he and I are pretty much back to normal, thankfully.
I sent the cancellation text to everyone except Z because he'd sounded like he wasn't available anyway...but also with the slightest sliver of hope that he would stop by and we could have a moment to chat. I've been wanting to talk with him, just one on one, for a while but there are always so many other people around.
I was in my room, trying to force myself to focus on homework, but actually thinking instead about what a dope I was for hoping for impossible things, when I heard a car pull up outside. I peeked through the window and to my great delight and utter amazement, I saw Z walking up the driveway. He knocked and I opened the door.
"Hi," I smiled awkwardly and he stepped in. "I didn't think you were coming."
"Well I can't stay long but thought I'd stop by for a few minutes."
"I canceled movie night. I didn't tell you because I thought you weren't available. But you can come in for a bit if you want. I've been wanting to chat with you actually."
"What about?" We sat together on the love seat in the pink room, the light from the hallway making a path through the darkness. I don't know why but I feel most comfortable talking in the almost darkness.
"Nothing really...anything...I just like chatting with you but there are always so many people around. Actually, to be honest, I didn't tell you movie night was canceled because I hoped you'd come." He laughed at my awkward confession but leaned back and made himself comfortable.
He showed up around 8:30pm and stayed until 10pm. It was really nice to talk with him without other people around. He allows himself to be open and vulnerable with me. And for reasons I don't understand I feel completely safe and secure with him. I told him my insecurities and fears and he reassured me that he actually really likes being friends and spending time with me. His sincerity and willingness to confide in me put me completely at ease.
The more I get to know him, the more time I spend with him, the more I adore him.
That moment with Z reminded me (in a time of great need) that God really does love me...and that other people love me. I need to focus on the present and the future and stop allowing the past (and the hurtful lies of the past) to taint my present. I'm better than I think I am. I'm stronger and more capable than I give myself credit for being. I just need to find the confidence to be...better than I think I am.
Certain statements made by people I no longer regard as friends pummeled my mind until I couldn't see straight. I knew they were lies but they seemed so plausible and applicable that in my physically ill and therefore weakened state, I was defenseless. I went for a walk. I prayed. I tried to focus on homework. Even TV (my usual distracting retreat) didn't help. The later it got, the more discouraged I became. I was convinced that I was nothing more than a burden to all the people in my life, and that they only hung out with me as a last resort because they had nothing better to do, or because they hoped that someone "better" would also show up.
Z didn't want to have movie night (which, of course, I took personally, thinking he just didn't want to be around me), so I had sent out a text earlier in the day saying we'd have it at my house instead. But as the night wore on and more people said they weren't going to make it, I decided it would be best to cancel. So I sent a text out. A couple of the girls expressed disappointment and concern. I wondered if some people might actually really care about me and enjoy being around me after all. I talked with The Artist on the phone instead of texting him, that helped too; he and I are pretty much back to normal, thankfully.
I sent the cancellation text to everyone except Z because he'd sounded like he wasn't available anyway...but also with the slightest sliver of hope that he would stop by and we could have a moment to chat. I've been wanting to talk with him, just one on one, for a while but there are always so many other people around.
I was in my room, trying to force myself to focus on homework, but actually thinking instead about what a dope I was for hoping for impossible things, when I heard a car pull up outside. I peeked through the window and to my great delight and utter amazement, I saw Z walking up the driveway. He knocked and I opened the door.
"Hi," I smiled awkwardly and he stepped in. "I didn't think you were coming."
"Well I can't stay long but thought I'd stop by for a few minutes."
"I canceled movie night. I didn't tell you because I thought you weren't available. But you can come in for a bit if you want. I've been wanting to chat with you actually."
"What about?" We sat together on the love seat in the pink room, the light from the hallway making a path through the darkness. I don't know why but I feel most comfortable talking in the almost darkness.
"Nothing really...anything...I just like chatting with you but there are always so many people around. Actually, to be honest, I didn't tell you movie night was canceled because I hoped you'd come." He laughed at my awkward confession but leaned back and made himself comfortable.
He showed up around 8:30pm and stayed until 10pm. It was really nice to talk with him without other people around. He allows himself to be open and vulnerable with me. And for reasons I don't understand I feel completely safe and secure with him. I told him my insecurities and fears and he reassured me that he actually really likes being friends and spending time with me. His sincerity and willingness to confide in me put me completely at ease.
The more I get to know him, the more time I spend with him, the more I adore him.
That moment with Z reminded me (in a time of great need) that God really does love me...and that other people love me. I need to focus on the present and the future and stop allowing the past (and the hurtful lies of the past) to taint my present. I'm better than I think I am. I'm stronger and more capable than I give myself credit for being. I just need to find the confidence to be...better than I think I am.
01 November 2010
New Job
Today is my first day working at Seagull Book. I start after school today, 3:30pm. It's a bookstore like I wanted. It's a job that won't make me work on Sundays. It's the location I hoped for because they close earlier so I can still have a social life when I work in the evenings. It's part-time so it shouldn't be too stressful. It's the right timing. It's the right situation.
So why am I so anxious about it?
I'm still not feeling particularly well. I didn't sleep well last night (up coughing all night). Last night wasn't particularly encouraging. I went to bed feeling insignificant and insecure, so I woke up feeling like I should stay in bed and not even try today. But I got up. I'm grateful that Midgie's my commute buddy because she helped me feel a bit better.
I wish I had someone to go home to. I wish I had my Love to collapse into his arms when today is over. Just knowing that someone would be there to keep me safe and help me rest at the end of the day would make getting through the day so much easier.
FHE's tonight. I'll have to request hugs from The Artist, Z, Packman, and anyone else willing. I'll be alright. It'll be great! Life is finally moving forward. I can talk myself through the anxiety and it'll be great...right?
So why am I so anxious about it?
I'm still not feeling particularly well. I didn't sleep well last night (up coughing all night). Last night wasn't particularly encouraging. I went to bed feeling insignificant and insecure, so I woke up feeling like I should stay in bed and not even try today. But I got up. I'm grateful that Midgie's my commute buddy because she helped me feel a bit better.
I wish I had someone to go home to. I wish I had my Love to collapse into his arms when today is over. Just knowing that someone would be there to keep me safe and help me rest at the end of the day would make getting through the day so much easier.
FHE's tonight. I'll have to request hugs from The Artist, Z, Packman, and anyone else willing. I'll be alright. It'll be great! Life is finally moving forward. I can talk myself through the anxiety and it'll be great...right?
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