Dusty Mollys

In my earliest blogs, I used to write about the several minty’s that ruled my conscious mind. I don’t write about them anymore because they’ve been put on a shelf. They’re in storage.

The other night I was talking to my mum. I told her that I didn’t feel like I could handle working my one shift a week.. on top of my full time study. We eventually agreed that I will stick it out.

Mum told me to leave Little Minty at home. She can be out from 8pm Saturday til 8am Monday morning. Little Minty is my inner self that needs a lot of nurturing.

She personified a couple new Mintys. “KFC Minty” and “IT Minty”. KFC Minty has almost impecible work ethics. She also named an IT Minty this is the studious one.

I said to my mum “KFC Minty” is on the shelf collecting dust. I put her there when I quit my last job. That’s when I realised the others were too.

My counsellor gave me an article some time ago. The writer talks about her inner egos and how they were a part of her.

As time goes by I’m realising that I have negative inner egos and also productive ones.

My Minty’s are lined up on the shelf are like dollys. Hence, Molly’s. Minty dollys! Some come out for play time. Some don’t.

We giggled when I said, oh! And smelly minty – Smolly! Lol

Life is a balancing act.
We’re always walking on a tight rope.

Edit: I read this post to my mum. She said to me that life isn’t always a tight rope. Sometimes it’s like a playground. Which totally makes sense if you’re taking dollys out to play.

Aiming for A’s

After making myself feel horrible all week, I feel good right now.

One of my tutors keeps drilling “attendance = achievement” into our heads. He also says that’s only part of it. Attending the classes will help you pass… With C grades. All of my tutors remind us that we have to make the effort in our own time. To study at least 4 hours a week for each class. I’ve been doing exactly that.

Today I realised that I’ve made the commitment to aim for A’s.

I’ve had two tests this week, one last week. The one from last week hasn’t been marked. I got 80% on the second test (worth 10% of that class’ grade overall) and I got full marks on the third test (worth 20% of that class’ grade overall). I’m really stoked with those grades! I know I aced the first one too.

Attendance equals achievement.

Making sure I motivate myself enough to get out of bed each morning, means I will attend my classes.
Making sure I attend my classes means I won’t fall behind.
Keeping up means I can aim for A’s.

Attendance equals achievement.
Achievement can equal A’s.

Cool, Calm and Chaotic

I’ve found a new tool to get me to sleep at night.
I listen to classical music.
I prefer soft and calm music.
Chopin, Debussy and Joe Hisashi.

One morning on the bus I felt chaotic. My mind was a jumble of garbled feedback. I was listening to EDM and thought, what if I listen to my “zzz” playlist instead?

So I did and it helped.

It’s a small achievement in my books, being able to find a healthy distraction. Make that two achievements! They’re bigger than I give credit. Hitting two birds with one stone.

Sometimes my imagination and mind will get caught up in the music. I remind myself to focus on the notes and instruments.

My favourite feeling, is that relaxing calm before I fall asleep. That music does exactly that. It also helps to relax my chest, it feels like it’s deflating. In a good way though.

I am grateful for this.

Bloom and Doom

The weather is lousy today. It’s grey and damp, even in winter there’s a feeling of humidity in the air. Wet and miserable.

Feelings today are reflecting the weather. I’m tired and slow. I feel unmotivated, I have for the past week.

Shoulders keep hunching over, chest feels tight yet bloated.
I’m shakey..
I caught myself forgetting to breathe in class today.

Never forget to breathe.

I understand the feeling in my chest is because I keep forgetting to breathe.
I catch myself holding my breath, pushing down on my diaphragm.

Today, I want to curl up into a ball. The smallest thing could send me into a panic attack today. That’s how I feel.

My earliest memory of feeling this way, leads back to my pre-teen years. This feeling of impending doom. Feeling anxious and nervous for no reason. I hate this feeling.

I know I am blooming, I should give myself credit.
I don’t feel like I deserve it though.

When I was in high school, we would be given creative writing assignments.. as you would.
One year a teacher tried to make my change a sentence. It had something to do with wet dog smell and the word aroma. She wanted to me change that word aroma because wet dog smell does not have positive connotations attached to it. It baffles me to this day, that she tried to make me change it. Just to fit in her box. In the context, I was referring to the smell being nostalgic. She couldn’t wrap her head around it.

I know I am blooming, yet I can’t help but feel that there is a cloud of doom ahead of me.

There is no reason for this. I’m doing well at school. I’ve started working (I got my first pay today!). Life at home is good too.

Why do I stop breathing?
Why do I have to make such a positive space… negative.

It’s like buying something that’s discounted. I always think there’s something wrong with it, when it’s absolutely fine.

This is the start of self sabotage.
In the past it has always started here.
It snow balls into failure.

The last thing I want to do is fail.

Innate invader

Metaphysical heart burn. It feels like a hair ball in your chest. It’s doused in menthol flavoured alcohol. It burns but it’s not really hot. It’s not firey. Just a cold.. burning sensation. Your heart is bound by thorn stricken vines. It doesn’t hurt. Its just irritating.

It’s been years since I’ve felt this consistently.

Dread.
Anticipation.
Dread again.

The feeling is always innate. The catalyst being life. Being responsible and having initiative has been exciting for the last month.. I’m starting to feel overwhelmed even though I know I’m doing well.

I’m scared I’m going to sabotage myself.

Priorities

Sorting and allocating priorities has never been a forte of mine.

As my week gets busier and my responsibilities grow, I’ve had to decide what to do and when. Sounds easy but what order do I give them?

On the weekends I go away to a home away from home. This is a place I go to unwind, relax and heal. There are no obligations down there. Just me, my mum and WiFi lol

I’ve started a new job today and I don’t have a set roster yet. Like most weeks before, I would travel there on a Friday evening. Work has asked if I want to go in tomorrow and possibly Sunday.

I know I need the money, although what I have earned today will get me through the week.

The rat race feels like an obligation. In a sense, it is. Some of it is essential. Money. How much money though? I know I don’t need to work a crazy amount of hours to get by.

Part of me tells me I should go, I’ll get more money for the week and be trained faster.

Part of me tells me that I don’t have to. I can make up for that in the coming week. I won’t have another weekend away if I work tomorrow. I need that time to heal and being able to savour it one more time would be good for me.

Sounds like a silly question.

What do I put first? The money? Or my well-being?

I know what I’m going to choose to do. I’m not going to work Saturday and Sunday. If I do then that I will have studied and worked 7 days straight by Sunday. Add on another 4 days at course and that will make 11 days. Thinking and writing it out is making more sense to me.

This weekend I will bid farewell to my home away from home.

I will recharge for the week ahead and get ready for what’s to come.

I’m going to put myself first.

Maybe my managers might not be impressed, I’ve proved that I will be a good worker though.

Baggage

Imagine the feeling of having too much stuff inside of your suitcase. You’re pushing bits in, sitting on it to shut it more. You’re trying to pull the zip around but it’s not giving. There’s too much.

This is how I feel right now.. in my mind.

I’ve curbed a lot of my dissosiative ways. I’m finding it hard to deal with these feelings. Do I leave some out to lessen the load?

I want to forget.

Why didn’t we just leave straight away?

In a south Auckland suburb lived a family of three. A mother and her two children. A son and a daughter.

They lived in a humble unit, down a long driveway. Three units lined up beside each other, like plastic monopoly houses. At the bottom of the driveway, three more. Theirs was the third. Smack bang in the middle. One side of their unit sat flush with the second, whilst the other side was lined with grass and an overgrown lemon tree.

People were coming. A group, but why? To ransack? To kidnap? For a cup of tea? No one knew. But they prepared themselves. For some reason they didn’t leave as soon at they were ready. They waited til night. They lay in their beds, all in one room. For some reason they had a visitor. They sat against the window. Their head in full view. Why the fuck are you here?

Night fell. Flash lights lit up the Windows. Darting down the side of the house.

Off they go. Out the front door. With their visitor in tow.

Visitor behind.
Imposter behind them.
No one looking back.
While the rest followed.

Down the long driveway.

——-

This was a dream I had night. The visitor was one of the siblings I mentioned in the previous post. The imposters, they reminded me of door to door sales people. You just want them to go away.

With that death looming, one of the sisters has been in contact with my mum. This makes me feel uneasy. What if they find out where I live? What if they try to weasel their way back in?

For years, the two sisters have tried to get in contact with me. They want to make ammends. I will not forgive. I will not forget.

They trail behind and I don’t want to look back.

My mum gave them a donation to help with preparations. She said it was from her and the kids. This irked me but I know she did it with good intentions. I don’t want them to think they are in my good graces. I want them to know I loathe them.

I want them to stop trying.
I want them to fuck off.

I forget about the darker side of myself when I’m feeling so stable. Seems like a figurment of my imagination.

It’s not though.

I mostly blame them for being the root of my lack of mental well-being. Each one sowed several dark seeds in pivotal times of my life. They broke me as a child. No child should have “role models” like them growing up.

I hate them for that.

World eater

Just like Galactus from The Fantastic Four comics, hate feeds on energy. Draining our souls and eventually consuming it.

Hate is a word that I seldom use to describe the way I feel about people. Unfortunately, this is a lie I tell myself.

There are few people in this world I hate. I can count them on one hand. They hurt and fucked me (and my close family) over when I was younger, for lack of better words. They are all siblings in fact. These are feelings and memories I keep locked away, in a box labelled “DO NOT OPEN! DANGER! TURN BACK NOW” These feelings are frozen in time. They have stayed the same, never changing, never turning. Even rocks can be smoothed into stones over time. Mountains shift as techtonic plates move about beneath our feet. This though, is unnatural. Unworldly. Unruly.

I keep things locked away to keep myself safe. All I want is to feel safe and keep hold of that feeling.

The issue for me is that these people have old ties, with one I hold dearest. She has a history with them. An era in her life that significantly involved them. She put her life and energy into them once upon a time. They are family or at least, used to be part of her family. I refuse to acknowledge them though.

I feel guilty for turning cold and ridged at the mention of them. My soul turns around, like a sleeping child having a nightmare. It unsettles me. Rattles me.

I respect and acknowledge her history with them. I don’t want her to feel as if she can’t relive her memories around me or reminisce. I want to be supportive.

One of them commited suicide last week. I was not shaken by this news. Not feeling shaken is what shakes me. I feel no compassion, no sympathy. I don’t care about the death itself.

Part of me feels like they deserve what ever the universe throws at them. That they have accrued the cruel hands dealt to them.

What scares me most, is myself. This isn’t normal right? I’m supposed to at least feel sorry for them. I don’t.

My brother says I have every right to feel the way I and that he understands. He says it makes him sad to hear the way I feel though. That hate is so consuming. He told me that he feels sorry for them. That he holds the way he feels in, in respect of the history she had with them. I can’t find it in me to do this. But for her I will try.

This feels confusing and conflicting. My thought process has changed. I think from every angle and of every variable, when thinking about people like them. I know that the cards people like are dealt, are shit ones. That they had no control over that. I feel sorry for people like that. I want to help them. But not these people. Oh no. They can rot for all I care. And thinking that way scares me.

Everyone is a hypocrite.
I am no different.

Tripped up

I tripped up today. It started last night. It was harder to sleep than usual. My mind litterally had sirens going off, sometimes I like to think of EDM mixes. I eventually forced myself to sleep, listening to the rain outside. I had to focus pretty hard. By then it was 5am.

I woke up this morning, digging my face into my pillow like I have so many times before, and I went back to sleep.

I’ve missed my first class and I’m dying for a smoke. I’m trying to quit but my will isn’t strong today.

I’ll make sure I get to my next class though.

My mind is cloudy and I feel meh.