here we go again

Back to the grind. Or rather, back to the lack of grind. There is a not-so-surprising lack of hustle that has reentered my life and brought me back to a post mid-August phase. Post mid-august wasn't the best of times and this mid-October phase isn't the best of times either. I'm back to old habits which aren't particularly productive or helpful or beneficial to me in any way. It's kinda like a slow downward spiral that has started turning again - albeit not as fast as previously, but the spiral is definitely moving.

I don't know about other people with depression and/or anxiety, but I've definitely come to realize that I go through phases. If you could see the unpublished blog post I wrote about 20 days ago about what a good month September was compared to what I'm writing now, you would definitely notice the change. But what is perhaps best, is that the down periods don't feel as down as they use too. Sure I didn't leave the house Saturday to go to a job where I could have made 200 bucks cash for standing outside directing people for a few hours because, well it just wasn't happening, but the next day I felt a whole lot better and calmer and less stressed. I was exhausted and tired and frustrated and all of that leads to some erratic, irritating, impatient behavior that is sometimes unavoidable. But I got through it. Perhaps not the greatest example, but meh, it works.

Right now school is kinda bugging me. Kinda = more than it really should. I have a special talent for making a mountain out of a mole hill and then attacking that mountain fruitlessly with a feather duster, if that makes any sense. I'm trying to sort out all my issues, because Lord knows I need to be done with school. I need to say hasta la vista to Spanish and bon soir to French because I've had it with the both of them. Graduation day shall be a day where I do a little happy dance and thank the academic gods for getting me through. But until then, I'm still attacking that mountain.

Rambling post over. Enjoy some pictures of my recent apple picking trip at Chudleigh's Farm in Milton, because, well, apples are life and the best part of my days.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

This time two years ago I was in Spain embarking on the scariest journey of my life that in the end, thought me more about me than I thought it ever would. These were some thoughts when I returned to Canada in June 2013.

-------------------------------

Awhile ago someone posted this on Facebook and it's completely accurate. The year abroad is over, and although I am very, very glad to be back home, I miss Spain. I miss a lot of that time where I met so many people from all over the world, where I learned things about them and their countries that I never would have learned otherwise. I miss the freedom I had, the ability to go where I wanted when I wanted. I miss the sunshine (when we had it) and not having to drive or take public transit to get where I needed to go. I miss my view, the old and the new mixed together. I miss the history, the stories that the red tile and beige bricks tell, I miss the river by which people gathered and ate and drank. I miss the language, as bad as I am at Spanish. I miss my faculty, not so much how it's run, but the beauty of it and the strange feeling of walking out of an exam being greeted by a group of tourists, exploring the things which to me had become mundane as a part of my daily routine. I miss my friends. I don't know the next time we will see each other. I guess that's what Dr. Seuss (to whom the quote is attributed), meant by don't cry that it's over. I'm not the type to cry at the end of these sort of experiences, but it does make me sad to think it will be a long time before I see any of these people again or Spain itself. But then I smile, because I am glad that I have these things to miss, that I had the opportunity to travel and immerse myself in new things. I smile because I have new friends who I can talk to and will be there when I need them, wherever we might be. I smile because I am grateful. And I smile because it happened.


I also smile because, well, sangria.

all dressed up with places to go - a post about Agoraphobia

A few months ago, I wrote a draft blog post about something I was struggling with, and had been for awhile: agoraphobia. It was just another on a list of mental health issues that have plagued me for years but I had never really dealt with until very recently.

As I was going through some of my drafts this morning, thinking about what I could write about next, I reread that post and thought about how far I have come and improved in the last month, month and a half. The biggest and best changes have definitely come through getting involved in things like volunteering as well as getting a new job. So much of my time was spent at home, wasting my days away by myself in pits of self loathing and unhappiness. They would come and go but were never too far away. It took a lot of effort to try and get to a better place and I had to work actively at developing a way to try and improve my situation. Perhaps one day I shall write about some of the struggles, most of which I internalized for a long time. 

I am writing this little preface I suppose to give a bit of clarity to the following post, the original draft I never published. I recently read on what I think was Louise of Sprinkle of Glitter's blog the phrase "Never blog angry". I have done too much of that in the past, or blogged from dark places. (That is why one of my last posts, about going for a walk, while on the surface perhaps a bit benign, was so very important to me.) Everything is still up because although I might be ashamed of some of those feelings, I think that they serve as a reminder to where I was and where I want to be. 

There is no real good ending to this post because I never finished it but I hope it gives you some insight. Thanks :) 

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Agoraphobia. Let's talk about that.

Wikipedia: Agoraphobia is a condition where the sufferer becomes anxious in environments that are unfamiliar or where he or she perceives that they have little control. Triggers for this anxiety may include wide open spaces, crowds (social anxiety), or traveling (even short distances). Agoraphobia is often, but not always, compounded by a fear of social embarrassment, as the agoraphobic fears the onset of a panic attack and appearing distraught in public. This is also sometimes called 'social agoraphobia' which may be a type of social anxiety disorder also sometimes called "social phobia".

I'm on the social side. Open spaces suit me just fine.

It's a side of effect of everything else I've got going on with me that I often desperately trying to hide. Sometimes I will be okay, if I don't think about it too much. Then there are the days where I get up, I shower, make breakfast, eat, get dressed, even put on makeup, my jacket, my shoes, pack my purse and sit by the door or locked away in my room because leaving the safety zone is too scary and the big horrible world outside is just waiting to wreak havoc on my dull, insecure life. I become paralyzed with fear.

Saturday mornings I go grocery shopping with my dad. I always make sure I wake up in time for this because I know that this might be the only time I leave the house for the weekend. Even taking walks is something that frightens me, the lack of destination and unfamiliarity with the area. I will sit by the window and daydream about taking a walk and never put on my shoes and go.

This whole thing makes me sound like a recluse. I can be. But it's not to say that I don't leave, it's that it is often very hard to. And trying to explain this to people is very difficult because they just don't understand and most times I don't even try. I have become the person who backs out at the last minute because all of a sudden I'm not good enough to be invited to this event or to have friends. It just happened recently with my classmate and her arts fair, I just didn't show up. It's been two days now and I haven't even messaged her because how do you explain that an event earlier in the day put you in such a mood that you just refused to leave the house, even if your dad offered to drive you across the city to go. It is common knowledge in my household that new friends are a rare thing, so the fact that I let her down, if she even thinks that, (she might not), just makes me want to cry.

I feel like I know how to combat this but at the same time, there are so many other factors that I don't really know what to do. I have had panic attacks when I think of talking to someone in the elevator and end up hyperventilating, sitting on the floor of my closet, where no one can get me. This had a major effect on my school life when I was in Spain and during fourth year of uni, were I basically stopped going to one of my classes for fear of confronting my prof.

I often feel that everything is scary and that everything is against me.

Water

Water and salt and a little bit of dirt

Slides down my face

The salty goodness runs onto my lip

The wet taste of shame and pain

Of desire and longing

Of suppressed emotions

Expressed through a solitary drop

Once gone never returning

For the thought of this hidden action

Being seen by another

The thought of someone

Being able to see past the toothy smile

And read the inner soul

Of that solitary drop

Is frightening

This lonesome tear

Is shed in secret

Between the happy laughter

And the kind words

But as quick as it comes

It disappears

The back of hand:

God's natural eraser

Removing all signs

That something deeper lies within

Behind that toothy grin

There is a lonely soul within

Made up of water, salt and a little bit of dirt

written: January 13th 2012

Everything is fleeting

I sit at my kitchen window, on a hard chair that lends no comfort yet is the only place I feel comfortable. My body is heavy, burdened with the weight of everything running through my head. I try not to focus on the thoughts swirling around, the negativity that never seems to leave, that only distances itself from neutral conversation for a time being, then comes back with a vengeance, wishing not to be forgotten.

I distract myself. The view from the 26th floor never ceases to amaze me. I count the planes that go by, taking mental note of those that are headed to the airport quickly, as if they can't wait to disembark, and those who fly leisurely, drifting in and out of the clouds as they glide along. And closer above me, I count the ones that are now leaving, heading out on their journey to destinations unknown to me.

The sun is setting and as the sky changes slowly from a light pale blue to a pinky lavender, my eyes turn to the clouds, as I lose count of the airplanes, becoming harder and harder to keep track of. Each cloud is a puzzle. An enigma of water and air, shaped in whatever Freudian image my mind decides to conclude upon.

I see a boy in a rocket ship-shaped wagon, speeding about. There is a demonic rat in the lower corner of the sky. Each time I glance upon it, it seems to shift into a friendlier image, becoming a guinea pig in a few minutes. A spider floats near by. I see roses and bushes, a lady with a pill bottle, a bear who slowly goes dissipates as he gains a hat.

My brother walks into the room, and asks why I am looking out the window. I tell him that I'm looking a rocket ship, a bear with a top hat and a rose bush. He thinks I'm being sarcastic and when I say I'm not, he thinks I'm high. Fair enough.

When I turn back, everything has changed. My spider is now squashed, my bear now blind, my roses wilted and my rat turned guinea pig looks like a pregnant lady dying. It all is a bit surreal yet fascinating and reflective.

It seems I feel a sense of ownership over these images in the sky as they disappear. Now I feel emptier than before. The clouds never stop, never rest for no one. Everything is fleeting.

Two trains and a dragonfly

I went for a walk yesterday. In a valley and through a forest. There's a first time for everything.

I've been hesitant to walk the path into the valley (the Don Valley) since we moved into our new building a month ago since it's very foreboding. But yesterday morning after about an hour and a half of deliberate delay, I finally left the house. And guess what! (What?!?) It's a really cool place! Who knew?

I took a load of pics because I missed actually having something to take pictures of and this little escape from city life was the perfect opportunity. While I was walking, I was thinking about all these cool sentences and observations I could write for this post, but I really couldn't be bothered to stop to write them down. So here are four things I took from my little scenic trip:

1. Train tracks are awesome. These pictures don't do the giant structures justice.

2. Dragonflies are both super creepy and super cool at the same time. No pictures of them because I jumped back in fear whenever one got too close.

3. Selfies are awkward as hell. And yet that didn't stop me from trying.....

omg nature

4. Being an environmentalist for the city would be quite cool. Before I left, I googled to find out the name of the path (East Don Trail) and I happened upon a city report from two years ago that looked at erosion in the area and the need to extend the trail further south. It was fascinating reading about what they are doing to help stop the erosion and then actually seeing it in action.

I saw children on scooters, old people walking and chatting, moms and strollers, skateboarders, bikers, adorable puppies, workers on their lunch break. Lots of people yet it never felt hectic or intrusive. It is a refreshing break from the concrete and asphalt. Must do it again sometime.

"...now already, and forever, never was..."

I'm sitting on my bed, pondering. That's what people do right? They ponder? When they want to think about and examine and contemplate and be hypothetical; pose questions and come up with answers, possible and not possible, all at the same time?

Ponder.

I guess what I'm pondering about is the future. If you're familiar with the inner workings of my mind, this would be of absolutely no shock to you. It's something I do on a daily basis and perhaps should stop doing because it doesn't often end well. Usually I come to some grand, generalized, somewhat dystopian conclusion about the horrible fate that awaits me in the days, months, years to come. Most days my mind equates the future with negativity and failure.It is something I am trying to change, slowly.

FYI, my neck hurts. I spent about 2 hours lying on a bed playing cellphone games above my head, while my brother tried to explain why Lil B is the BasedGod and who Bruno Caboclo is. I'm still fairly confused about Lil B but out of fear for turning into Kevin Durant I shall keep my opinions to myself. I wish Bruno all the best in his quest to learn English.

Am I still pondering? Yea. Right now about this blog. This oh so confusing blog that is angry one minute, happy the next. Consistent and then sparse. Desired and then the biggest chore in the world. Oh what to do, what to do...

Perhaps I need to challenge myself. I'm not good at challenges but I could try to make an exception I suppose? If not for the lone reader of this blog, then for me. There is not much happening in my life right now, but perhaps instead of just sitting around, letting the many effects of depression seep into every aspect of my life, I could do something about it? I put all these statements as questions because inside, I really am having a conversation with myself. But if something declarative is what I need then by golly, YES. I SHALL DO SOMETHING. There. That sounds concrete.

Every other day at least, I think should be a good time to write a post. Consistency, as I'm sure someone somewhere once said, is what makes the world go round. I should act before it's "now already, and forever, never was." If that makes sense...

Still pondering,

♥ Sarrah





title: Welcome to Nightvale Podcast, Episode 21 "A Memory of Europe"

The Summer

Summer. It's already been about a month and a half since my summer started, (I'm counting from when I finished exams) and I feel like I have not done much at all.

I had a job but today is the last day of that. I'm on-call at that moment and if they don't call in the next half hour, well, so long grocery store in a mall. It's been an interesting three months. But basically all that means is that I'm on the hunt. Again. Gotta get that dough because Visa bills and tuition don't pay themselves, as I'm ever so slowly learning. Based on this morning's stroll through town enquiring about submitting resumes and where people are hiring, it seems everything is done online now. The anxious part of me is like, "awwwwwwwwww yea". So much easier. But the I-Really-Need-A-Job part of me is like "I want to talk to the manager and have them actually put a face to the resume" and so on and so forth... It's a mixed bag.

Also I'm moving, so that's another stress level added on. We (dad and bro and I) are moving to a very unexciting location, with nothing but condos, apartments and office headquarters around a half an hour ride to the subway. Compare that to the five minute walk I have now to the station, next to the Don Valley, minutes from downtown and the Danforth and you can tell I'm just bursting for joy -_-. But also I've come to realize that that is life and sometimes there is just nothing you can do about it and to make the best of a new situation. Plus I've moved a gajillon times in my life already, I've kinda got it down packed. Pinterest shall be my new best friend.

On a scholastic note, I have enrolled in a third year summer french course parce que mon francais est horrible et cet clavier n'a pas des accents et c'est trop d'effort et excusez moi pour ma paresse et ma grammaire. I just can't be bothered. If you're one of the bajillion people I know who is going into teacher's college to become a french teacher, you have your first student right here. I'm free. Ring me up.

On Saturday I start perhaps the most exciting academic thing of the year - an industrial sewing course. I'm quite pleased about that, because I have got it into my head that I should study fasihon techniques and design and this is the first step. I think you also might need to be able to draw and right now I'm my 10 year old cousin can draw better than me so that's something I definitely have to work on.

That's it I think. Updates - they are therapeutic. Good bye :)

p.s. why have you started writing on this blog again?, you may (probs not) be asking. Well, I feel like a blog with such an awesome name should not go to waste, but really I wanted to exercise the writing-in-English parts of my brain since they really don't get out that often. Also, the keyboard and computer screen in this library are sooooooo nice to work with, it gives me an excuse to leave the house.

Place in the World

Life is a constant stumble and fumble
of navigating through the world
looking for your place
for where you are supposed to be
as if the universe designed a single little space where only you can fit.
But the you of yesterday is not the you of tomorrow.
Does the universe know this?
Does it change and adapt
as you change and grow,
change and regress?
Perhaps it creates numerous little spaces for you to occupy;
for when you find yourself alone and free
or together and comfortable.
Perhaps your mistakes and mishaps
reshape your little niche,
moves it from place to place.
So you struggle and fumble some more,
forever searching.
But maybe the universe mocks us all
and we never need truly search,
for we are always where we should be
in the time and place.
It seems we are destined to a fate of free will and decision
and it is only a matter or embracing yet not attempting
to solve this puzzle of a life
which allows our unknown place to reveal itself.


written: March 1st, on my blackberry, finished in the Plaza Mayor, Salamanca, Spain

An Expensive Cocktail

My heart is heavy.

When I breathe in, there is something pushing back against me, as if it is trying to prevent me from taking another unsavoury, life giving breath.

When I breathe out, it feels like my whole body tries to leave too, weighing me down as it tries to escape.

My limbs grow heavy, my eyes they close, my will to do anything vanishes. It is as if all my burdens suddenly decide to appear all at once, in a calm, overwhelming feeling where a sweet, sorted confusion is all that remains.

Eventually I give in and sink to the ground or whatever is underneath me, be it a chair or a bed. I sink and would keep sinking were it not for the Earth beneath my feet. On my tongue I taste acid indifference but mixed with two shots of syrupy sadness and a dash of loneliness. A strange combination but one that is all too familiar.

I'm as far into this cocktail as my physical body will take me but my mind keeps drinking away. And eventually I give in and order me another glass. I pay with my heart - heavy, not worth a lot, but just enough to overdose.

That Time We Went to Italy (Part 1) ... Rome

I'm the worst at writing travel blogs. I was going through some of my older ones thinking, damn I wrote a lot. The daunting prospect of writing a post or two or three about our five days travelling around Italy is probably why I put it off for over a month. But here we go! If you have any questions, feel free to write a comment :)


Day 1 - April 18th 

We started our five day voyage across the Boot, in Roma. (Cue the Lizzie McGuire Movie references). I heard some interesting things about Rome beforehand but the city was not at all what I expected. Well, actually I'm not sure what I expected but it certainly wasn't that. The beginning part of the trip was filled with a bit of transportation woes, starting back in Madrid but following us to Rome. The buses from Rome's Ciampino Airport to the city centre are a complete travesty and a scam - despite only costing 4 euros. It's not even worth it. After about an hour of waiting for the bus we gave up and got a taxi.

After checking in to our hostel (which was actually a guesthouse) we had a fabulous first Italian meal of gnocci served by a fabulous Italian waitress. From there we walked to Palentine Hill, which "is the centremost of the Seven Hills of Rome and one of the most ancient parts of the city," Wikipedia says.  Amazing is the best word that is coming to mind right now. The bright sun and really warm weather just enhanced the beauty of this ancient site, filled with stairs and gardens and ruins of once great homes, palaces and temples. In Ancient Roman mythology, these grounds hold the cave where the infant boys Romulus and Remus were found by the she-wolf that kept them alive before they were later raised by a human couple. It is from the story of these two boys and the eventually victory of Romulus over Remus, that Rome gets its name.



Gnocci (yummmm)



Palentine Hill

From there we went to the Forums (you can just walk straight to them - they are on the same grounds) and looked in amazement at the Roman Forum, the plaza that was once the centre of the entire Roman Empire.



The Roman Forum

The last was the famous Flavian Amphitheatre, a.k.a. the Colosseum, which I always have such a difficult time spelling. When I was in grade 9, I went to France and Switzerland with my high school and one of the first towns in France we visited was Nîmes. There, there is an amphitheatre called the Arena de Nîmes. To me the Colosseum was just a bigger version of that. It was still amazing though being in the theatre where those infamous gladiator fights were held. When you're standing inside, you can see down into what would have been a basement hidden underneath the arena floor. From the ruins it is easy to imagine cages where animals and slaves were kept, the hecticness that must have gone on below ground while emperors and subjects cheered on the bloody battles playing out above.




Inside the Colosseum

Day 2 - April 19th

Day number due started off late because we had to move from our first hostel to another, due to some random booking we did. The issue was that we could not find this hostel for the longest time. It took about 2 hours longer than we had originally planned, but once we found it we headed out to a whole new country: The Vatican City.

CPGrey has a fantastic video explaining all about Vatican City and how it is possible for such a tiny country to exist within another country, let alone within a city. Just so you know, there are no customs or passport control or anything of the like to enter. You just walk past a wall and say "Hey! I'm in Vatican City!" Then you turn around and walk a few more steps and say, "Hey! I'm back in Rome/Italy!". Then you turn around and do it all over again.

We toured the inside of the absolutely stunning St Peter's Basilica and stood in awe of the marble and gold and pure artistry that surrounded us. The extravagance was astounding and a tad off putting but brilliant nonetheless. Naturally, like the tourists we are, we went to the world's smallest postal service and send off some (expensive!) postcards, just for the heck of it.




The Basilica - we think the chairs are for a mass

The ceiling in St. Peter's

After pretending to escape from the tiny country, we hopped on the metro and made our way to the

trying to escape

to the Piazza del Popolo where there is the church of Santa Maria del Popolo and a giant obelisk in the plaza. We fell prey to the tourist trap of buying roses from those sketch guys who persistently try to sell you things and ended up taking cheesy pictures with them (the roses, not the sketch guys). We then went too the fanciest McDonald's EVER and watched the sun set on the Spanish Steps. The rest of the evening/ night was spent walking from one monument to the next, enjoying the outdoor night life. We saw the Fountain of Neptune in the Piazza Navona, the Pantheon, ate some gelato and ended the night at the Trevi Fountain. I reminisced of days from my youth where I watched the Lizzie McGuire movie somewhat religiously and in tribute, I did a very inaccurate recreation of the film by singing (horribly) "What Dreams are Made Of" while Em filmed it. Some people nearby clapped and cheered me on. It was thoroughly embarrassing but had to be done. The only bad thing was that I never got mistaken for an Italian pop star, met a cute singer named Pablo or got handed a giant wheel of cheese. But what can you do?



Piazza del Popolo

The Fancy Schmancy McDo's

The Spanish Steps

Fountain of Neptune

The Pantheon

Em and Vi with gelato and crepes

The 3 coins I tossed into the fountain

The Trevi Fountain

Italy Part 2 soon!

The Call

Artwork: Julia Yellow (source)

I can hear it: in the night, at lunch, as I walk down the street. It is loud and is getting louder every day, shouting my name and urging me to come. It accompanies me where ever I go. Sometimes it's a ringing whisper in the back of my head; other times it's a horrible, jarring, screeching tone.

It wasn't always this loud. It used to be a dim voice that I would notice every now and then; an accompanying soundtrack when I heard a certain song or watched a certain show. But now it has got a hold of my heart strings and the constant vibrations cause pain and tears. It messes with my mind and plays with my feelings. But there's no way I can stop the call until I go back to the source and hang up the phone.