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Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Thursday, 20 June 2013

Fight or Flight

I'm one of those women who shops like an overdose gone wrong. During manic moods people reach for booze, drugs and material things. Me, I shop for produce. I buy food, seeking flavour for survival. I get wound up in a colourful bubble of this and that, lets put these things together, shall we go here - I want to do that NOW!

Today I went for a scan on my right boob. Mum died of breast cancer so I was not taking any chances. After two checks and a scan referral I was able to see with my own eyes that I have nothing to worry about.

Some may say that even after two Doctors had given me the all clear, I was being a little paranoid. Of course I was - but who is to say that cancer is about life and death. It isn't. Cancer is about maintenance much like mental health. I've been on the 'C word' journey with someone close, I can honestly say cancer stumps your life for a good couple of years introducing more issues than ever expected. For me I'm in no position at 23 years to put my life on hold for a small group of multiplying cells. As a sufferer of anxiety and depression, hand on heart my life is finally simmering away. TWENTY THREE YEARS and only now my life is simmering! Only now am I able to say I'm happy and things are good without those words coming out of my mouth as a lie. 2013, 6 months in and everyone has been great - I'm just not used to that.

The thoughts creep in, is this the start or is this the beginning? It's a familiar trap much like depression, a circle and all the options are black that surround it. Cancer, what if I've got...Cancer? Even the word deserves a big 'C'. It's fight or flight. Crack on or panic. Thankfully I was able to panic and relax. I am so so lucky to feel appreciation, assurance, and most of all see the clear landscape I have in front of me now that the black fog has cleared in several areas of my life. I fought and I won.



p.s I celebrated with a gin and tonic with a strawberry in it ;)
pps I also ate a whole bag of revels :P
ppps Apologies to any family/friends who read this, no panic! :)

Saturday, 30 March 2013

Is this mania?

I don't know what this feeling is. It's not bad. It's not middle ground. It's a hyper-manic contentment.

My fears have changed. I'm no longer scared to talk about it, though it doesn't mean I'm going to look you in the eye. It doesn't mean later I won't feel like I need to sit down and put my head between my legs, and breathe. I'll always be scared you'll run away.

I'm not sure what this spectrum scale is, the ticking and whizzing almost blinding and exhilarating. I've just got to get better at switching it off without being obsessive. Management instead of control. Feel instead of distract. Lets comfortably sit in silence and it be silent instead of nee nawww sounds.

I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life and I think that's part of the problem. I'm just not used to it and I don't know whether to smile or cry. I'm tired of all the 'nutjob' labels and the newbies who judge can dooo one. I feel more courage from being open and myself about it, than hiding and seeming like the weird confusing girl that still always keeps it together.

The beauty is that I have kept it together, thumbs up to me! It feels like a big fuck you to the world and I love you too. I've achieved a lot. I have a very rough plan to keep it together now and live within the present year rather than years ahead. I thrive from being completely dependent on myself, it's all me (financially and even to the point of keeping it together). Over the last few months I've developed an extended family, friendships have developed and I've never felt less lonely in all my life.

I must make that 'together' list.

The one thing that still scares me the most is myself. This brain I occupy that makes me, me and people seem to like it. I get cake mix up my nose and I'm easily distracted. I am a Catherine wheel and only stop when sleeping. I now sleep the best I have in all my life. Insomnia is a distant memory. I choose to organise, I'm happy to say I make things happen. I do. I made it happen for myself. An opportunity lost is a moment where I kick myself, unless it was time to let go. I just can't give up on things, on people, it's so hard to go back on your word unless your stomach dips and faith disappears...you realise.

A friend once said to me 'you're always making excuses for people'. Finally now I understand I can't keep making excuses for people anymore. I believe this or I'll end up loosing myself.

I'm going to go for a run now, sometimes I don't want to stop because if I do I have to look at what's in front of me and sometimes it gets too much. It's a good thing because I see all of the amazing things I have and times I have in the future to look forward to. Before, it was a bleak dark impossible future where life seemed to exist only in an exaggerated black box in my head. I've got my things to keep me going, to keep me, me.

If that's the case then I can be there for you too.

Happy Easter x




Sunday, 3 March 2013

Messy page

I've got a stiff neck from lying awkwardly and scanning through pictures on facebook of good memories, pretty people and a hell of a lot of faces I don't recognise anymore.

One of those faces includes me. I flicker over pictures from last year, two years ago, my childhood and teenage years - ugly times where my face seemed a scribble; yet there are images now which have less pen marks on my portrait. It's taken years to overcome a hurdle, one which I couldn't even see the top of, this hurdle was in fact placed across from a huge ditch in the middle of the ground, a ditch filled with evil eyes and influences ready to capture my innocence and weakness.

You can never say that bad experiences ever go away. I don't know if you can ever say you are over something, at least there might be a part of you which can look back through squinted eyes and recognise the self development and lessons learned from a past experience. They will always come back to haunt you, however at least I can now say I've understood a behaviour to manage my pain and impulsive responses. Brain training you could say, life lessons and patience.


Sunday, 25 November 2012

A face of hope

I'm trying not to feel silly as I write this. I suppose every post I write about mental health I have to make sure I don't feel silly. I'm going to write through the heartbreak and the voice which convinces me that no-one is going to listen.

One voice I'd like to have more of is that little voice inside my head encouraging me to make a mess on the page. It's the one which, out of no-where, urges me to write thousands of words down amongst the millions of thoughts which pitter patter in my mind. I need to be a face.

Most of the time I'm frozen to the spot by my thoughts, lately they've been of excitement and happiness. I'm also frozen by fear, hopelessness and overwhelment. However, my intentions and what I intend to achieve are never going to be real If I continue to trap myself in a mind circle. I quite easily convince myself that this box is right- it's only when I step out of it I realise I was so so wrong. I repeat this same mistake over and over again.

I must put more ideas down, I must speak up. I think deep down I'd like to become a face, a sign of hope, a voice, a representative. I want to do more in the name of mental health and If I don't stand up for this 'taboo', who will?!

There are several tips and methods I try to follow when there are good days and when there are bad. The ways I try to follow to put less pressure on myself. Instincts. Lesser the mind battles. Something I've been doing for quite some time is capturing, what some could accuse as looking for attention... Though, for me taking pictures of myself on the good days really help. I'm not looking for comments and most of the time I store them away for no-one else to see. Sometimes I take pictures on the bad days-these happen less often because if you are dealing with depression or other mental health conditions, it's rare you want to see yourself looking sad. Most of the time you feel too ugly anyway. I've got a picture I found today which I took of me on my 23rd birthday. I've also got a picture I took on the year anniversary my mum died. I glance back at the physical changes, whether weight has fluctuated (comfort eater number 1!) and if I can see signs of stress in other physical areas too.

On my birthday I said to myself 'I am capturing this!'. There was no-way I could leave this happy day behind. It was odd as it was the first birthday without my mum alive, but the love and amazing messages I received from the people I know really made a difference. It was an unforgettable day, a day when I thought 'finally this is what life is when it's good and when it seems less scary'.

I avoided pictures so much when I was a teen. I hated myself. I hated my face. You just want to scribble yourself out, never feeling good enough for anyone, anything. It's like an endless feeling you're too scared to end, but at the same time you don't want to accept either. It sounds vain, but capturing a picture when I am happy at least gives me something to look back on so I can say, 'oh I was happy there, that's me, I can do it, it's achievable, I'm allowed to feel good'.

So, here's a pic I took of myself this year on my 23rd birthday. I had a chilled morning eating posh raspberry jam on toast (a lovely present from my housemate), I tried on dresses which I don't go anywhere to wear, and never used to feel good in (I put on two stone and now have lost it), and taking snaps of my beaming face. Here I am naturally happy.

OK so it's a slightly bashful pic (but I'm well chuffed with my hair in this one!) and that day led to a lovely welcome in work, my life long friend (pretty much a sister) coming to London just for me (and she bought me breakfast!) and dinner in the evening with a new group of friends...

Things have changed a lot since then, but I'm still here. I'm still trying. I might not want to take a picture of myself today, but at least I know that there are days in the future I will want to take a picture of myself. I know this because there's been days like the above in the past, I've made myself happy, I can do it and I will.

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

"let your skin down around your ankles like a banana's peel"


'Last night I was in the car with Z. following the shoot and we were talking about love. I said, You can't be picky about your definition of love. She said she got bored after three times and I said that wasn't an uncommon malady. I said, Until a person gets over their thing you will not be an exception to that thing. I said, Falling out of love is a defense mechanism. I said, The problem is you're the red flag...
 


...you have to be doing something creative that is not about money at all, even if it happens to make you money later. Otherwise you'll always be angry.

It's just that when you're not doing something for free you're in trouble. Not to be confused with doing everything for free, which is when you're also in trouble. I never did internships but I did bartend for a long time, and wait tables, and answered the phones for Kaplan test prep services when I wasn't teaching their tests. And I've never been paid by the vast majority of publications I've written for. And I was a furniture mover for a year or two. You get what I mean. Though I've also never been a hard worker. My laziness is as wide and deep as the Silver Lake Reservoir. In other words, I don't know anything about my laziness, it's unmapped terrain, for me. I was a poet mostly, and then a short story writer, and eventually a novelist, but it never occurred to me that someone should be paying me to do these things. I thought that everybody should have a job, or a hustle, at least while they were writing their first book.

I basically make a living writing the things I want to write (though, I keep my expenses low, I don't make enough to have a child, unless the child came with a wife and that wife had a good, stable income). I'm running out of time. I'm dying, though not necessarily faster than anyone else. I don't want to tell people to wait, to have patience, their time will come. Though, that is the way I feel about some people.

But how about this? It's true that if you keep writing you'll write something good. If that's not enough for you I'll tell you a secret, it's not enough for me either. I don't know what is enough. Money will absolutely not do it (though my father used to say "money can't buy happiness, but it can sure make misery easier to take," and when I worked in the red light district in Amsterdam the boss, who carried a machine gun in his briefcase, used to say, "Money's headache" and all the salesmen would say, "I like headache").

Sometimes I get jealous, other times jealousy seems like the strangest thing in the world. Someone sent me an email about Lena Dunham getting a big advance on a book of essays. I don't understand why I'm supposed to be upset about that. I like Lena Dunham. I don't know her, but Girls is a good show. I'm not mad at her for being born into what seems like a good situation. She's not like the Romney Rich, the rich people who were born rich telling you if you worked harder you would have what they have. People that went to fancy schools and didn't have to take out loans telling you they worked for everything they have. Not every rich person lacks perspective. I don't hate rich people indiscriminately, though I suppose it is a small mark against them. If I was rich, I think, I would vote for politicians who wanted to raise taxes on me, but I wouldn't pay taxes if I didn't have to…

I do think, if you're getting by now, money will not make you feel better about yourself. It will, however, relieve a lot of stress. There was a study, in the New York Times a few years ago, an essay in the magazine that was then published in Best American Non-Required Reading, quantifying happiness. I'll summarize that the research showed there was a big jump in happiness between poverty and middle class (there is no "upper-middle class", upper middle class is a term used by rich people who are embarrassed by their wealth). There was virtually no relation between money and happiness after that initial jump. Once you weren't worried about food and rent that was about as good as it got, emotionally…
 
One thing that is always true, if you let it be, is that writing a book, or making a movie, or being a writer, is a series of small humiliations. It's basically in how you take things. There will always be a club you can't get into. You never get to stop paying your dues. Even when you get in the club, the door changes, the new person guarding the rope doesn't recognize you. The new person is an editor at a magazine you've written at for years. That's part of why I love actors. It's such a pure art form, to put oneself out there for ridicule, to be made fun of, to be shredded as if mauled by a tiger. The endless auditions where you are asked to cry, or take your shirt off, in front of strangers. And then they don't call you back. Sometimes they say they'll call you back, but they still don't. Emotionally, acting has to be the most difficult thing. To maintain ego in the face of constant rejection. Acting is a metaphor for life multiplied. Acting is filled with rejection, at every level. But you have to always go all the way, otherwise there's no point, and you won't do well if you don't. That's true of all of the arts, depending on your definition of art. And then you have to feel safe, and raw, let your skin down around your ankles like a banana's peel, stand naked and bleeding, and then go again.'
 
Thank you Stephen Elliot.
 
I like the part when he says 'you have to go all the way, otherwise there's no point.' It reminds me of a time when I saw a comedian live and he forced members of the audience to join his act. Their impressions were timid interpretations of his instruction. They looked silly thrusting their stuff against strangers where as the comedian in full pelt did not.
 
I think of times myself when I didn't go all the way. There have been so many times when I've held back and most of them have been to protect my feelings. There's something I want to do and have done for a long time, typically I've held back in fear that revealing too much may lead to a position I had not desired. I'm in constant self negotiation over who will suffer the most. Since this has been going on for some time I am left in self doubt - I've suffered the most over all.
 
I want the tone of 'That cake had consequence' to change for some time. I'm gonna have to be bold.
 
 

Sunday, 14 October 2012

So weak

'a life without sadness and loss is a life without happiness and worth, and we all deserve to feel the full beauty of our lives.'



Write less. Peter Orner.

'I would like to be even more silent. The need to write thankfully only comes once in a while, and when it does I do my best to keep it short. The upshot of many books on writing seems to be: Write, write a lot. When you are done writing a lot, write some more. I wonder if this is always the best route to the creation of something enduring. Am I alone? Or do you find yourself longing to escape from a daily tsunami of words? What if people wrote less and paid attention more?'

Saturday, 15 September 2012

Blogging: Look at your life in pictures

The images have the answers.

For me, blogs. It's a show and tell and I LOVE it. Learning about what makes other people smile, it makes me smile. Blogs are a tiny bit of heaven, it's like making silent friends over the internet. Whirlwind moments become calm again if you allow patience to sit down and discover.

My pictures aren't perfect, but they capture the moment I'm looking for.

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Write or run?

It depends which one I can do best and concentrate on, this spiral is taking it's toll!

Yesterday I spent my day celebrating my housemates 24th birthday. Happy birthday Baz!

I went back to H&M to buy that awkward black jumper which brought comfort to my eyes.




I had the loveliest afternoon tea with Yogi :) (Yogi's handy cam work) It's so great being able to talk to her about all sorts and Yog's makes me feel better about myself too!

and then finished the day off for Tapas celebrations for Baz's birthday dinner... (again too overwhelmed by all the food to take a pic!)

Dinner discussions: Relationships and arguments... I understand the back and forth, I understand the pain. I'm lucky I could be objective, when one is so trapped in the duo angst, the scene I think of is in 'When Harry Met Sally'. They argue, he says "are you done?" and he ends the argument on his own initiative and says "I'm sorry'. They hug. It's all it takes to break the spell.

It made me sad to see someone so stressed, I felt frustrated for her. Being single and objective I can't help but think, what's the argument worth?! At least you have each other.

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

Ryan O'Connell: You're fine just the way you are

'The second we become okay with ourselves, the less reliant we become on “stuff.” And then, oh my god, the whole world goes ka-boom!...

Everyone is convinced that the person next to them has figured out the world before they have. It’s a race. The first person to know how to cook a savory dinner and pay their bills on time while still maintaining a healthy relationship wins! Their grand prize? Uh… not sure yet. Bragging rights? Making your peers feel even more inferior?

You will feel stupid about a lot of the things that you do. You will question yourself and your decisions. Can you trust your thought process? Do you know what the hell you’re doing? The answer always is no. For everyone.

The goal here should be about becoming comfortable in your own skin. The people I look up to the most aren’t the ones with a great spice rack and decorating scheme (those people are often more psycho than those who still sleep on a mattress on the floor) but the ones who have a sort of “effortlessness” to their personality and life. They feel lived in, comfortable with where they’re at. I love that. I want that and I know that one day I will have it. One day I will trust myself and love myself and not be ruled by so much anxiety and fear. I know I will because I see myself already changing and moving toward that.

I guess it’s just about getting to a place of calm, of not constantly measuring yourself against others because I guarantee that if you do that, you’re always going to fall short.

Take things as they come. That’s all you can do. Otherwise, you’re just getting in your own way.'

and this is why I love Ryan O'Connell, Thought Catalog.

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Just freaking call me

On the theme of communcation, read this:

'Then Stephanie texted: Just call me.

At first I was appalled. I mean, a phone call? What sacrilege! Using our voices to exchange actual words? We didn’t buy smartphones for this.

“Hey,” Stephanie said, once I rang her. “So for tonight.”

We asked concise questions, answered each other directly, were insistent and made concrete plans. It took less than five minutes. The impossible task of deciding where to dine was dealt with quickly and without fuss.'


It's called the voice of reason.

How things change

To a friend...

'I think it's come to my attention over the last couple of years that, since I did not deal with this topic at all between the age of 10-20 years, now is the time to read on such matter.

It's now or never, and for once I can honestly say life is so sweet right now.

Hollie Hines 1.08.12

x '

Saturday, 1 September 2012

Welcome all...

To 'That cake had consequence'!

Over the last year I've had an adventure with my previous blogs 'Clanky Pan' and 'a bit hinesy'. It's gone from personal, to a range of perspective, to those moments where you really just need to laugh at yourself!... The adventure has developed into a delightful world of music, stories and food!

'That cake had consequence' will be my little gem to document these highs, lows (food coma?!) and those daydream moments.

I hope you enjoy this exciting process as much as I will.

Hollie