Tag Archives: love

So you feel like a failure? What have you failed at?

Failure? Failure at what? You’re breathing aren’t you? What is there to fail at, really?

Get married?

More people are divorcing every day than there are potential breaths in my body before I truly expire!

Get a house?

It’s just bricks that come with a piece of paper saying that the bricks are allowed to be in a house shape on this block of land. So what? (Okay, this one is pretty important, but I’m trying to convey that it doesn’t matter how shiny the bricks are, we’re all just monkeys oggling over bricks, it’s not that deep)

Be.. successful?

What does it even mean?

Do you mean, emulate societies purist image of itself? To what end? What has society ever done for you? Made you feel like shit, expected unreasonable things unreasonably? Made your life difficult? And for what? To… Uphold… Itself?

How benal, pointless, irrevocably wasteful and superficial.

And BY THE WAY, society is constantly changing. You want to be like society wants you to be? Why? It doesn’t even know what it IS. It is a literal fugue state of bullshit. It’s like the white noise of humanity, all of humanities combined unconscious brain dump. How is that going to help you be happy?

You are better than that. Fuck society and do what you do, be you, and seek your own happiness inside of you. Stop comparing. Stop obsessing over what this one or that one is up to. You are living your life. It’s YOURS.

Why live it, looking out of the window at what the others are doing. You have your own life. BE in it. DO life. Don’t watch it.

Good luck!

Look Up!

When you’re walking in the street.

The sky is so big, yet we never look at it when we’re going about our business.

Why is that?

Do we forget it’s there?

That just behind the curtain of our lives, there is a another curtain which opens up into the vastness of space and time.

Life is a game sometimes. It’s so easy to get into the tunnel vision of everything that is going on. You have to eat breakfast, go to school/ work, meet deadlines, see friends and family, go to meetings, health appointments, gym, and so on.

But, what is waiting up there? Out in the vastness of life revolving on the grand scale, we still exist, yet we cannot quite grapple with it. It’s too difficult to say ‘I am walking in the city, but I am also a sigh, a breath, a magical heart beat propelling the universe into existence’. It sounds absurd, I know, but what feels right?

Are you just a piece of flesh, caught up and bound in a mesh of materials and small significances? A rare aberration of nature’s creativity with heat, water, and minerals? Or are you life itself, exploding, bright, passionate, constantly in flux and without limitation? So rare is that we exist at all, even in our own revolving solar system.

You know that you are alive. Can you imagine what that means? How precious to know that you really do exist and can experience the entirety of Earth in all its magics and splendour. You just popped up into being, and now you’re living! Can you believe it?

Hard to come to terms with, especially now that life is so insular and wrapped up in itself. The many ways we can forget what part we play are growing. So many distractions.

But did you ever just stop, a minute.

Did you ever just… look up?

Swirling clouds, bright blue skies, birds, gliding overhead, the subtle tones of sunset and sunrise, colours in combination that are enough to steal your breath away. What peace and serenity there is in that vast space. And we are living here. We are part of that huge power that moves all of life. And we are not just making it happen, we are watching it happen and we can move with it too.

Next time you feel lost. Next time you are cruising on autopilot, or down in dumps, or stressed beyond all belief because the small things are piling up around you. Just look up. There, you see? We’re just floating, here on Earth, watching the open sky as it changes and brightens.

Better, right?

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Hypochondriasis

The other day I was talking to my mother about one of my closest friends who I had recently fallen out with.

A few weeks back, I had been suffering from a prolonged period of suffocation. I later found out that this was asthma, but it could as well have been exacerbated by anxiety. As anyone who has suffered from severe anxiety will know, it’s that crushing band around the chest, a weight on your lungs, not getting the full range from a breath.

This night I was suffering particularly badly and was struggling to breath so much that I messaged my friend (at the time we lived in the same house together). I told her that I couldn’t breathe properly and that I didn’t know what to do. And her response was ‘It’ll be fine’ and then she went to bed.

It struck me as an odd reaction and hurt my feelings. A bit of a betrayal if anything. I was terrified and I thought I was going to pass out. One of my closest friends couldn’t even raise an eyebrow about it. I would have liked to think, put in the reverse situation, I would have come down the steep stairs to the lower levels, passing the dusty kitchen and shadowy pot plants on twisted shelves, and comforted her. In fact, I have done in the past.

My mother is not one to provide comfort, so she immediately replied: ‘It’s like the boy who cried wolf, she probably knows what you are like and reacted like that as if it’s not a big deal.’

‘But I would have come to comfort her, if she were struggling’, I replied.

As usual, she brushed off a response that she didn’t want to hear or could not make sense of. She has an enraging habit of only hearing what she likes at the expense of the whole picture. She cannot be said to be motherly sort of mother, so her responses do not come from that soft-centred feminine place. They are entirely pragmatic.

But, it did make a twisted sort of sense. My friend has known me for a long time. I have been a hypochondriac for a long time too. I can understand how ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf’ factors into how people interact with me.

But, I can tell you this for a fact. Being a hypochondriac is a misery beyond all miseries. I BELIEVE I am ill. I don’t just think it. I am perpetually disturbed by thoughts about how illnesses that I cannot really confirm I have are slowly sapping my essence and dragging me closer to the cliff of death, to be tipped.

Hypochondria is a neurotic expression of the psyche’s search for many things. A prevailing sense that there is something wrong with the individual, manifesting not in a search in the subconscious, but in an obsession with the body and disease. It is also a manifestation of a need for attention and love which was not well fostered as a child. As I mentioned earlier, my mother is not much of one to give motherly feelings, even less so when I was a child. Hypochondria is a manifestation of a need for attention, for treatment, for care. On top of this, is the feverish attempts made to escape the authoritarian gaze of the care giver, be that a doctor or parent. We cannot bear the eye of those we wish to look upon us. It is a perfect storm of misery, often made worse, not better, by a simple doctor’s visit.

So, I beg you, when you deal with a hypochondriac, please, deal with them as if you imagined that they were suffering from a threefold need to be cared for, to seek their inner failings and to escape the gaze of the carer. This is distressing to say the least, but not something which comes across on the surface when dealing with a hypochondriac.

I cannot lie, I still feel justified in viewing betrayal in my friend’s actions, and unswayed by the discussion I had with my mother. I am a hypochondriac, but my suffering is real, and I am searching, perhaps often in the wrong place, for a way out. I want to be better, but like the boy who cried wolf, the more often I call out for help, the less compassion I receive.

All the while, the hypochondria churns and boils, and my mind is on fire with terrifying thoughts of death, disease and helplessness.

If you give us nothing else, give us love.

J

[Let us know in the comments if you suffer with health anxiety and how your relationships have been affected]

 

5 Things I’ve Learned Being Fat

1. Finding love should be easier when you don’t meet societal standards of beauty, but societies standards make you feel that you aren’t worthy of love.

2. Negative comments about weight perpetuate weight gain. I no longer accept malicious comments and will challenge them or turn them into positive affirmations internally.

3. My time is for creative, meaningful experiences and not absurdly weighted towards attaining punishing weight loss goals.

4. Diets always fail and eventually lead to binges. Change habits in small ways to make a global impact.

5. Challenging negative self talk. I deserve better than to project social expectations which have never served me onto myself in a bad way.

I used to be fairly thin, but I was just as unhappy and so much more of my time was spent on dissatisfying activities that stopped me from developing spiritually.

I am beginning to experience a great deal of pain just getting about normally and I need to make room for exercise, but not at the expense of my happiness and progress in life.

I’m glad I’m not conventionally attractive because at least people see me for my personality and not what I look like. That’s a far better starting point for long term happiness than beauty.

I’m not going to sit here and say ‘fat is beautiful, or healthy, or happy’, but I will say, fat teaches you to accept yourself and to challenge your limitations, to become a person people can look to for other reasons than my flesh suit.

Fat is often seen as weakness, but fat can be powerful. A desire to overcome expectation, to become happier in spite of what you look like or who you ought to be. We learn acceptance and forgiveness, both towards society and towards ourselves, so profoundly affected by it before we even have a chance to fight back.

Fat is forgiveness, acceptance and power.

J