Tag: purpose

Astonishing… I Had a Thought Today

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Yup, I had a thought. It was a once in a lifetime thing that happened today. How cool for me.

In brief, I was thinking about how even when I’m with people who have similar interests as my own, I still feel like I’m not fully understood. Or maybe it is that there is more there to delve into, but I’m the only one who really wants to get to the root cause? Or maybe it’s that they already know and don’t want to waste time discussing what they already know? Or maybe it’s that I’m willing to entertain all possibilities and perspectives, and they only like certain ones for whatever reason?

It’s a perplexing situation because I’m literally having to email someone in Australia because no one I know even wants to entertain my ideas… Or even listen to them.

It’s isolating when it feels like there is no one who even gets what you’re talking about… Especially when you’re talking about what they’re all interested in discussing.

If there’s a freaking genie around, my wish in this moment would be to have even one person appear who genuinely cares about what I have to truly say.

Alright! Let’s hope I have another thought again… Fingers crossed for that sitch.

Toodles mofoz!

Love, me ofc!

Well Shit

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Where do you go for help when you’re yourself when you’ve looked everywhere for help?

How do you find anyone on Earth to help you if you’ve asked everyone you know?

How do people make it through life lmao because wtf why did I raise myself with no guidance? I mean… Kudos me you did better than you realized you did. But you probably should’ve been placed up for adoption, and you know that lolz.

And if you bring this up to anyone who’s aware of your immediate family, they wouldn’t believe you because abusers don’t abuse in public and they don’t abuse everyone.

It’s blunt, and it’s not all terrible. But damn just want a smidgen of a break over here haha.

Best of luck to me!

Love,

Me of course!

What I’ve Learned throughout the Past Five Years of my Life: Quarter Life Crisis Style

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Five years ago was actually my 20th birthday celebration. At the time, it felt like a celebration of my introduction to the end of my youth. I really thought I had learned all of the most important lessons there were to know, and I was preparing to plan my entry into the nearest nursing home because of that very serious old-age milestone I hit way out of the park. The feeling of finally making it into my twenties was simultaneously paradoxical, though, because I knew I also had more than plenty of room to grow.

This juxtaposition of my existential thoughts and my naivete was, and clearly still is at times, more cumbersome than I would like to admit. And I was not aware that not everyone was burdened with the same questions concerning their purpose as deeply as I was. Truth be told, I thought my way of thinking was the status quo. Therefore, “the plan” for the rest of my life…

Yes really, the rest of my entire existence… That I did not whatsoever think I would live this far to see this far out…

That plan I had perfectly assembled to a T was, for all intents and purposes, going to pan out exactly as I had written it. By that, I mean everything I was working towards would come to fruition exactly as I had, in a way more frank sense, rewritten it until I allowed my perfectionism to accept the final draft of my whole life (i.e., that same one I thought would be over before I reached the age of 18).

It is making me laugh typing that out now because I really took that plan extremely seriously; I cannot underscore that enough.

I was working multiple jobs, volunteering at least fifteen-to-twenty hours a week, taking as many classes as I possibly could, and… Using that little old plan of mine to avoid the harder memories and feelings that I thought would magically disappear if my daily planner reflected my days in literal ten-minute increments.

It is very much safe to say that the whole running from my problems ordeal did not go well for me… At all. 

What a shock considering this account’s coming of age is all I can say. Who would have seen that one coming? Not me… That is for sure.

Even though my bank account, and truthfully my life in general at that time, looked outstanding on paper, my mental and physical health took the toll for it throughout the course of the next five years. Excessive nerve damage that branched into more serious problems ultimately led to me having no choice other than to take time off from school and work.

It crushed me halfway through the past five years when everything hit its peak. The last few things I felt I had control over were slipping through my fingers… Because they were. And I was not only so angry that my perfect life plan veered so far off track from my aspirations, but I was also filled with so much shame that I did not reach the goals I had set for myself.

I mean, I am very literally still trying to figure out the instructions of my graduation date for my graduate school program. Graduation is tomorrow. That is not a joke.

However, it is now five years later, and my 25th birthday just passed last week. Thus, it is more than safe to say that the little life plan from my 20th birthday clearly did not make itself manifest… At all. It is also more than safe to say I am, yet again, so grateful it did not. Life is more than working yourself into the ground. Spending time with loved ones is the greatest gift of all. And most importantly, learning it is not only okay, but also necessary, to help others after I have taken the necessary steps to help myself has altered my perception of how I live my life completely.

So, if there is one word I have for my life right now it would be contronym.

And I like it that way. I would not have guessed that at age 20-years-old. Mostly because contronym was not in my vocabulary repertoire then, yet contemporaneously because I wanted and felt that I needed others’ perceptions of me to be in my hands only. 

It is so much better than I could have imagined to relinquish that and just be perceived even when it is the harder option. Authenticity is the payoff, and it truly does pay more than any job or perfect plan ever could. I am looking forward to what the next five years will look like for me. And what tomorrow brings my way… No really, I found out I have total aphantasia, and that word, aphantasia, means without an imagination. So I really do mean it when I say I do not know what tomorrow has in store for me. I am choosing to look at that as a gift.

Tell all the truth but tell it slant by Emily Dickinson

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Adrian Matejka on Twitter: "I'm welcoming #NationalPoetryMonth with Emily Dickinson, who is one of the first poets I read & whose work continues to inspire me to “Tell all the truth but
Here it is.

Sarah, I lied. This post is not for you. The next one will be (#lolZZZ).

I just have always loved this poem since I read it in high school.

I resonate with the title more than the poem because I think the title itself is genius, especially when followed by words explaining its meaning… **chef’s kiss**; it is a literary masterpiece… And I never told anyone this when I was in high school. I never added to the Emily Dickinson Conversation when we reviewed some of her most famous works. I never said or did anything other than expound upon what Google said her works meant… More truthfully, what Spark Notes and Cliff Notes said her works meant.

And that is because I was telling all the truth but telling it slant.

And it, Tell all the truth but tell it slant, received no credit, or rather poor Emily received no credit for her writing and her ability to feel so deeply, until after she died. And my high school self and this wretched account are dead, so this post, if even viewed by anyone at all, will receive no credit until then. Or I suppose now depending on when this is published, too.

Poor and clearly pompous me, for feeling like I am on the same level of writing and feeling as Emily Dickinson, and even personifying her feelings to her corpse. Poor and clearly pompous me, for even thinking a dead body would be feeling betrayed or disappointed or hurt or anything at all by this entire ordeal of her fame and love only after her, what seems as though, never-ending suffering.

What a shame that those who are trying their absolute hardest to communicate their desire for human connection and understanding and love do not receive any of it until they’re dead.

And that previous sentence, the one literally before this one presently being read, is me following Emily’s advice: that is me telling all the truth but telling it slant.

The Truth, when not told slant, is that I feel like the insurmountable vexation that progresses from having a mind like hers… one that makes her able to think and write this profoundly… is oddly enough the juxtaposition of the crux of progressive deterioration of that very same mind. I feel like it is oddly enough the juxtaposition of the crux of her, as aren’t the body and mind one and the same? Isn’t that what makes a person a person, as consciousness is too perplexing for even the world’s most intelligent psychologists and neuroscientists to “figure out” and explain?

Yet consciousness makes us human. It makes us different than the rest of living “things”. And isn’t that a good thing?

We are not animals but we are at top of the animal kingdom.

We are not unintelligent but we are destroying the one planet that keeps us all alive.

Make it make sense? Make the but make sense. Because I just simply cannot.

And that is what I find to be so profound about this entire poem. It’s the but in the title. That’s it… when I’m not telling it slant.

The Truth is I do not fucking understand the point of life.

I do not fucking understand the point of life.

I do not get it.

And no one can explain it to me.

That is the all the truth when I do not tell it slant.

However, if you do not tell it slant, that truth, or rather The Truth, is “too much” truth. It is misinterpreted as feeling emotions I do not feel. It is misinterpreted as me lying when I say those misinterpreted feelings are not felt. It is a whole bunch of an intertwined mess between me, “professionals”, and what is.

Therefore, I will just say what I said at the beginning of this entry:

I just have always loved this poem since I read it in high school.