Forward

It’s the only direction I’m interested in going. Except this weekend, I apparently needed to wallow in the past and miss some things that I am living without1; things that I have been quite happy living without for a while now.

I’m welcoming the sadness. After all, I’ve been pretty lucky. I spent the entire holiday season barely feeling any of it. I do wish I knew what brought it on, but for now I’ll have to settle for at least being able to be grateful that I still get to feel things at all.

I remember feeling this way far too often in the last three to four years of horrible romantic relationship luck. It used to be accompanied by feelings of inferiority, failure and incredible anxiety. Always a party when those guys get together. This is different… but if you’ll excuse me I’m still going to go wallow for as long as I need to.

And then I’ll get back to the whole looking, moving and grooving forward.

One day, as I turned the corner from a tea date with a friend this was on the ground and it was perfect
Footnotes:
  1. honestly, too many to get into[]

There one where I get a little cynical

love

I’m a hopeless romantic, and I think that’s my biggest problem1, the fact that I’m hopeless about romance. I think that while I was growing up, the notion of being hopelessly romantic was the best because it meant that one would be romantic no matter what; that you would choose love, no matter what.

Now that I’m older, and not less prone to my impulses, I’ve come to the realization that it’s pretty stupid silly to be hopeless about the subject of love and romance. Being a hopeless romantic means that you are the type who would do anything for the person who is lucky enough to earn a place in your heart. “Ain’t no mountain high enough, Ain’t no valley low enough, Ain’t no river wide enough, To keep me from you”; and other such unrealistic proclamations, these are the sort of things you’d hear someone – who was a hopeless romantic – utter. It’s lovely, isn’t it? Doesn’t it awaken those butterflies in your stomach? Make your heart race, and your palms sweat? Me. Too.

Of course, as I’ve already stated – all that romantic stuff is unrealistic. You swoon while you make promises of such grand gestures and your ‘love’ is elated because, “Oh my god, you’d do all that for me? I feel so special”. Of course, unless you back it up with actions that demonstrate your dedication, you’re just a liar. Maybe that’s a little unfair – maybe you didn’t mean to lie about the things you’d do to make the other person happy; maybe you had every intention to do those things but life got in the way. Either way, it still proves my point – being a hopeless romantic is really one being just hopeless. Maybe there’s nothing romantic about it all. We were just taught to think so.

Now say, you’re on the other side of that coin and you are the one who needs to hear such proclamations of adoration to truly feel loved. Well, you’re fucked too aren’t you?. The odds of you meeting someone who a) will adore you enough to speak to you like Romeo spoke to Juliet, b) will actually mean every word they say, and c) will share your hopeless romanticism is smaller than… something with really small odds2.

All I’m trying to say is that once upon a time, I believed in Once Upon a Time. And now I realize that all those fairy tales ended in a wedding or a marriage to someone they barely knew, with no follow-up story for how their lives actually played out. All that we were told was that they lived “happily ever after”, but we were never given proof. So I think it’s time to put away my hopes of finding the kind of adoration that I am, seemingly, cursed to feel for my partner. It’s time I realize that the way I love is the way that I love, and that anyone else I may pair up with isn’t going to love me the same way, but that doesn’t mean they love me any less. I guess.

So far, I’ve always known what I know about love. But for the first time in my life, I’m really unsure. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Footnotes:
  1. when it comes to relationships[]
  2. I am not a statistician[]

Yes, let’s talk.

Shame. It’s a hard emotion to overcome. Our egos are strong and it doesn’t like to feel vulnerable. We’ve all felt it at one point in our lives and all of our stories are so very different. That’s why it’s so important to talk about it, no matter what you may be going through. No matter how big, nor small.

There is so much to mental illness that we don’t even know about. It isn’t just depression, it isn’t just about suicide, it isn’t about schizophrenia or murder sprees though these are the extremes that have lead us to where we are today1. There are other things that we’ve been talking about for decades, like eating disorders and milder personality disorders2. Yet there is still a lot of stigma.

Stigma is the negative stereotype and discrimination is the behaviour that results from this negative stereotype.

— source:  CMHA.

I normally disagree with the sharing of anything on social media when the motivation to do so is that some large-company-who-can-obviously-afford-to-spend-the-money will ‘donate a small amount per share’ BUT the fact is that what they’re trying to accomplish is bigger than all that.

I read something on a friend’s instagram this morning as I was browsing while still in bed and I thought it would be perfect to share. This happened yesterday in Colorado:

A 16-year old Standley Lake sophomore lit himself on fire in the school cafeteria Monday morning in what police call a suicide attempt. Nett tried to kill himself by dousing himself in oil and setting himself on fire just after 7:00 a.m.

He was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition. Nett did leave a suicide note on social media saying, “This is not someone’s fault. I had this planned for years. He went on to talk about his plans and how friends over the weekend tried to talk him out of it. He finishes the note saying, “If anyone says that they know why I did this…nobody knows and nobody will.”

— source: 9news.com

My friend went on to wonder “what has happened in our society that a 16-year-old feels compelled to take his life, in such a horrific way?” That someone could ever think that death would be better than life. The thing is that sometimes everything could be right in your life, and you would still want to kill yourself. I can only hope that he finds the help he needs; I hope that he comes out of this fighting harder than he ever thought he could.

I remember how I felt when I was 16, and younger. I used to be so full of rage; I had the worst temper and I felt like I had no one to talk to. Sure I had a lot of friends, but there was something missing. I didn’t ever think that they really understood me the way they understood each other. I never tried to kill myself, but I thought about dying a lot. I’ve gotten over it for the most part, but there are some days that I still feel pretty worthless. I eventually get over it by repeating whatever phrase will get me out of that frame of mind but that doesn’t mean it’s that easy for everyone.

Teenage Dirtbag Reggy

I often wonder how I would have turned out if we hadn’t moved to Canada when I was 17. Something certainly switched when we moved here from Dubai. Hindsight tells me it has something to do with moving from a British Curriculum Catholic School in a Muslim Country to a Public School in one of the most open-minded countries in the world. Either way, whenever people ask me what it was like moving at that age – I should really tell them that I think it saved my life but they’d probably think I was just being dramatic.

Anyway, that’s enough about me. Mental health is important. People’s feelings are important. Yes, some people just need to suck it up but you don’t have to communicate that message with hatred. It is possible to be gentle while being firm3. You can give someone tough love without being a bully. Most importantly, remember that sometimes all someone ever needs is for someone else to listen.

Let’s talk, indeed.

Footnotes:
  1. and the people who have gotten us here, we cannot forget them[]
  2. OCD, ADD, etc[]
  3. and not just in the bedroom, either[]

So You Didn’t Get Kissed at Midnight

Will I ever love again? It’s a question that has been on my mind for a while now. It’s the question that led me to go on my mancation1.

The honest answer right now is: I simply don’t know.

I find myself avoiding thinking about things that have happened2. It’s unlike me. The moniker fragileheart wasn’t coined because I wanted people to walk on eggshells with me. It’s supposed to remind me that I wear my heart on my sleeve and that I like to feel things because it makes me feel alive. Finding myself running away from memories that make me smile is a little unnerving.

I don’t think I know how to be in a relationship. It’s been so long since I’ve been in a real relationship that I don’t know that I’ll ever manage to maintain one again. My last real, meaningful, mutually respectful relationship ended in 2004. Everything else after that I consider a mess. Yes, even my relationship with the Irish boy3.

Then again, I’ve gotten better at maintaining deeper and more meaningful friendships and I think that every good relationship is built on a solid foundation of friendship so maybe there’s hope for me yet.

Oh whatever. Maybe you4 were right; what was it that you said, sir? Something along the lines of, “You’d make a great mistress [but not a wife]”. And yes, I still think about it to this day.

Sometimes, you just need to blog things out loud.

Footnotes:
  1. vacation from men, and more importantly – meaningless sex[]
  2. like NYE[]
  3. that was probably the biggest mess[]
  4. I do not even know if you read my blog[]