Community versus 'out there'

I'm slowly starting to feel the impact and importance of being a part of a community.  There are some road blocks having to do with difficult, strained relationships that I am not a part of but associated with nonetheless due to work, but I'm trying really hard.

And I hope I am accepted.

I am a small-scale person.  I enjoy emotional intimacy in relationships and supportive networks and given the opportunity, I choose the empathic route each and every time.

I'm not a large scale person.  I don't feel safe 'out there.'  There are dozens of different agendas and schemes and who knows what humans will do to try and incorporate or use you for their own selfish needs.  I'm not being cynical; I have experienced this behavior first hand!  It's scary and aggressive and mean.  

I only want to surround myself with good people who contribute positivity.

The only thing I know how to do is work small.  And it's a better way to build trusting relationships and TAKE THE PROPER TIME to get to know people.  God knows there's too too much distrust and judgment in the world and if we took the extra time to cultivate relationships then I feel more secure.

Anyway, I'm working towards bigger ideas but for my own mental health and sanity, I still need Good Friends.

Don't we all?

Painting

I'm trying out painting again.  Even though I am not a master artist, I put my heart into what I paint.  Some of them take years to finish.  

I like the transformative, therapeutic sensation I feel when I paint.  While writing also serves as a release and a way to organize my sometimes scattered thoughts, painting allows for an evening of temperament when I'm feeling overwhelmed and stressed.

Which is often.  I am often overwhelmed and stressed.

I don't know where any of these paintings belong.  Not in a museum because people would just laugh at them.  They would criticize my poor technique and inability to compete with true masters.  Not in a gallery because they aren't really worth much money.  Not in someone's home, because they aren't aesthetically pleasing to the eye.  

Maybe in a collective with other so-called mentally ill artists, in a special feature where some cultivated people think it's just so neat and terrific that these poor mentally ill people are just fascinating.

And entertaining.  Can't forget entertaining.

Busy

I have been dealing with issues of exhaustion as well as insomnia in the past several years and am still trying to get a handle on it.  Again, my full time work and mental health advocacy endeavors take up much of time, leaving little space left to do something, hmmm, poignant I guess is the word.

I have formed a lot of philosophies over the long years about what success might mean to an assortment of people.  I know so many people struggling financially and many others who have no clue what that feels like.  There's much to be discussed, much more than my mere words written here.

What does success mean to you?

Honesty

Well, I'm working on some plans that are keeping me busy and hopefully not to a point of sheer overwhelming panic.

Living in the here and now...that's what I have to do to get by.  Still, I feel like there are others waiting for me to do what they expect me to do and getting angry at me...I don't know? 

What I get angry about is all those people with GIANT EXPECTATIONS of me don't know what I have been through in regards to my mental illness.  I have had so many setbacks to my stability and nobody seems to appreciate how much I've accomplished holding down a job and trying to be a loyal employee and honor my commitments.  I'm trying to do a good job, and be around people, and use my experiences to try and help other people.  Why isn't that good enough for people?

Maybe I have a simple life because that's all I can handle?  I'd love to bridge more friendships with authentic friends who love me for who I am, and to whom I can be an authentic friend in return.

Positivity

I am still reconciling certain things from the past and allowing them to strengthen my outlook in the here and now.  It's no easy feat, but I feel determined to keep trying.

I pick up on certain things and feel profound sadness, so much sadness at times that I can't even muster up any energy to do something.

I try and create and participate, but it's just not very good.  I see the talents all over and around my surroundings, yet I do not see anything I try to create as significant or important.  I'll keep doing it, but it's just my therapy, and not something I'd like a bunch of other people to toss around like a football in an attempt to win the biggest prize in the whole entire universe....

Or whatever.

Anyway, these words are my lifeline in space, and I'm sorry they're not up to everyone's expectations.

Arms up

I don't know what to do.  What I'm supposed to do.  All of these years, everyone around me being 'coy' about me being crazy, laughing and mocking me as if the depths of my pain were all just mere pangs of entertaining everyone feeding off other people's misfortunes.

It's insanity, all of it.

Anyway, I'm thinking of my friend again tonight.  I'm not allowed to speak his name because unpredictable opinion spews out in one of two ways:  "oh, how "cute."  

Or the alternative:  raging angry opinion.

I'm trying to cut through all the crap and get to what's real in the heart.

My heart aches to be near my friend and help him as he can help me.

But I'm not in a position to do that.  Because I'm not an equal.

I'm beneath what's appropriate or acceptable.

And I find that so very tragically sad.

Today

I start a workshop next week with my local mental health advocacy group and am so looking forward to it.

Something has to change.

The conversation needs to change.  Nobody knows what another person is going through mentally at any given time, so why are we so hard on each other?

I'm thinking about my friend today, and how I can change our conversation from 'everyone else's gossip' to our personal connection, unconditional support and mutual understanding of where we fit in in this world.

Anyone opposed to that needs to shift their concerns on something else, because, well, the world needs more support and love and positivity more than anything else right now.

Paths

I'm not a genius.  I'm not talented.  I'm not important.  I'm not anything but a caring, sensitive individual.  The things that have happened in my life, the circumstances I've been put in, the people who have meddled in my life...all of that....that's not me.

I look back at certain times in my life with so much clarity.  Other times just have me kneeling on the floor in despair.

I wish I had answers.

It's a bad day, I cannot lie

My ambien didn't help last night and I'm just wide awake after not sleeping last night.  It's like this invisible psychic force overcomes me, where it feels like it pounces on me at my lowest point and I start to unravel.  I don't know how to describe that invisible psychic force, but imagine for a moment, if you will, that many many many people are gossiping about you all at once.  Imagine how that might feel.

I'm not saying that's the case, that that is what I believe is happening, but it's what my mind is tortured with feeling and I just feel defeated and inches from total collapse.

I am processing traumas in therapy and it's got me feeling lost.  

There are bad days with this illness and today is one of those.

I'm sorry I'm not a successful human being.  

La balance

I am balancing summer as best I can.  There is so much live music and so many small adventures to enjoy.  Make art everyday, do something creative everyday, make everything count.  All of these phrases roll over and over in my mind.  Sometimes, though, I just want to enjoy what others have created themselves.  I feel isolated when I drown myself in my own projects.  It's not supposed to be that way, but it is. 

I'm still pondering things, but scheming? No, I'm not scheming.  The world is full of too many of those.  

Current events break my heart.  The danger of anger and hate and violence....and witnessing hateful responses.  It's heartbreaking.  All I know how to do in this world is be the change I wish to see.  Walk in peace, lead by example, walk the walk.  And when confronted with hostility and aggression, act with peaceful resolution.  Hate gets you nowhere.  

Music and Coping

It's summer in Chicago and I have begun my adventures of trying to soak up all the live music I possibly can.

I go through bouts of agoraphobia at times, during certain years of my bipolar/anxiety/trauma brain trials and tribulations, but I'm feeling pretty upbeat because I don't seem to be afflicted with that panic currently.

Saw a band last night, seeing one of my favorites tonight, seeing another band I love on Friday.  I'd love to pop by another favorite musician's concert next month too but I just can't rationalize paying so much for a concert ticket to see someone I once considered a friend.  That's just messed up...

I tried once to pick up a guitar and sing.  It didn't go well.  I am NOT a performer nor do I have any singer/songwriter talents.  I still have a student guitar that is sitting in its case in the corner of my living room, and every so often I'll try to tune it and play a little ditty.  Not for anyone but me.  Maybe my cat if she's in the room.  No siree, I am not cut out for that.  But boy do I enjoy watching others with TALENT doing what they do so well.

From a mental health standpoint, music and song lyrics helps those struggling find words and pitch to what they are universally experiencing.  That's really important, you know.  To be able to find an expression for what one is experiencing is of utmost, sincere importance, and I hope musicians can always remember that significance of their art and not get swept away with fandom adoration and enlarged ego.