A will to live, write & learn…

Story time!

…so, yes I haven’t been writing here as much as I would love to, and boy don’t we just love when people explain their excuses online?, yeah this girl right here studies philosophy, writes since she was a fetus (and like a fetus) so she MUST have ideas all-the-time, right?

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“Une femme hiding in the bibliothèque”

Well no,

Also yes, I do get ideas all the time, I mean, when you are passionate about something you get ideas for that all the time, yeah, but here’s the thing; I have been lacking time, peace and quiet (because those are basically my pillars for blogging) and I have been doing a bunch of things lately, mostly involving “personal development and introspection” which I’ll blog about later on, for my fellow ghost readers ❤

I get a feeling that to be passionate about some kind of art (mainly) you gotta avoid art itself (and I avoid investigation on my argument to open my mind on this argument itself actually), you gotta “discover” it yourself, so to say, yes the previous knowledge, yes the learning, yes reading and doing research to find out in general terms why you love what you love, why you do what you do, but the process itself should involve the subject and the creation only. It’s like swimming, obviously you get taught by someone, but later on when you have learned enough, do you practice swimming while watching a video on how to? do you “virtually” swim or “textually” do so? no, you gotta throw yourself into the water and become one with the water and nothing else.

So for me to really show my practice here I gotta buy myself some time to block any other influence from what I dedicate my time and peace to on a regular basis (that includes reading my fellow friend’s blogs and essays unfortunately). I guess I would say BE PASSIONATE, but also BE SELFISH with your passion. That to me is the key to find your true “style” in whatever it is you practice and wish to conquer through (but of course no “original ideas and true personal style/technique” are achieved without inspiration from others and mastering the art of mimesis).

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“A cloud that resembles my life”

For example I read Ray Bradbury’s stories or I read Bukowski’s poems, but do I invite them into my own practice and take their style as my own? no, I wave goodbye to them after I take a sip of inspiration and I get on with my writing.

…I need more space man, space in time, and I need it most of all to slap myself in the face and say “stop being lazy because now you have time and mindset to write your own shit!”.

Next up, oh yeah, the “personal” thing,

being as private as I am I will just say I’ve been, these past couple of months, seeking all kinds of therapy, no I’m not too crazy (yet), but now that I’m in that process I believe we all need some good ol’ shrink once or twice in our lives, and now is the time for me.

I got that “nope I’m fine, leave me alone I’ll fix it” from my dad, we’re “the fixers”, and most of the time we think we can fix EVERYTHING on our own, I continued with that habit up until mid- February, when things started to decay slowly…

…in slow-mo, like a “Je ne regrette rien Piaf” in a violent scene from a movie. And then the slow-mo stopped and all that was left in my head was good old chaos and mess; so I crashed.

I got them all goodies, loss of memory, lack of concentration, bipolar behaviors, depression and suicidal thoughts, anger, self-hatred, fear, my anxiety got herself the main character role for a movie that replayed itself every single fucking day, and on top of that my good skin never returned from the war, I hated salty food, and mother migraine stayed to live her best vacations ever at Cape Saint-Anne. Oh but outside no one predicted this hurricane drunk, I was swell! and somehow learned to pretend my best role with friends and family, I was exercising myself as usual, gettin’ them IG pics, growing my hair and nails, buying shit I don’t need with money I don’t have…

So the things I loved, like my mind, my creativity, my love and passions, my joy and positivity, my family, my studies, were all shouting for help from this dark Anneliese that wants to stay.

So yeah, I had to get help.

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“Eye of God (right side) peeking”

Seeking help was the best method I could agree on, sleeping and muscle relief pills weren’t doing any good anymore, GOD even my wine-down friday nights weren’t good enough to soothe the pain, that is extreme in my standards of life right there.

Although I cannot get into full detail on what’s been going on in that road work because it’s still closed for repair at the moment, I just feel a lot better now, a kick in the arse from my therapist has been more than welcome, she’s a true angel and has become like a second mother to me.

I can say some facts about it though,

First she saved this old girl from drowning in lack of understanding her life and the life of others, she saved her from blaming herself for past events (any longer), she saved her from self-hatred and (most) of all those negative feelings and diagnosis mentioned earlier, she paused that shitty horror film to analyze the scenes and give a better explanation of it all, she keeps saving this one from drowning and ending her existence: she saved me from me and all the hurt people I loved, and not, caused me.

So, how can we think psychologists are just for “certain people” when they should be an obligation in everyone’s lives?, not just to complain about first world problems and existential crisis, not at all, but to CONFRONT yourself with yourself and not be afraid anymore, only then you can love better and “control your mind”, feed it, and let go.

I will continue therapy as long as I can and will inform my process to you my lovely readers that are so invisible that blogging itself is a therapy, a personal one too.

My stressed advice has been stressed enough, but I care to repeat: “seek guidance, seek advice, seek help if you need it, it is most likely you do.”

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“Une femme est une femme”
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