by introvertontheinternet

Kindness

When I was younger, I remember being told ‘treat others the way you’d like to be treated’.

And I did that, despite many others not doing it for me.

But I continued on, cause surely not everyone’s like that. Surely, when I grow up, everyone will understand that kindness and acceptance is a must. Surely everyone will know that that’s the baseline to a healthy society.

When I was younger, I learnt from public tv, which is available to all-within the UK-with a TV set and connection, that it is wrong to discriminate against people for how they talked, looked or for just being themselves.

And I understood.

Even though I lived in a small village without much diversity. I understood.

When I was younger, my mum told me ‘it’s whats inside that counts’, and even though I was small child, I understood.

And now, I see on the news, everyday, stories of people being murdered, attacked and discriminated against for the colour of their skin or their ethnicity or their sexuality and gender identity and it makes me sick.

If a child can understand that it’s wrong to discriminate and hate, why can’t the many, many adults carrying out these horrific attacks?

But I know that not everyone is brought up to be kind or with kindness around them and that’s really sad.

But if these people were shown kindness, love and acceptance before their pain got too heavy to bear, before they started lashing out and hurting others. Before they built up walls of discrimination out of fear.

If we were all educated equally on equality, the world over.

I’m sure the world would be a happier place.

A place where everyone is equal, no matter your ethnicity, religion, sexuality or gender identity.

A place where people are seen by what’s inside, the spirit, rather than the outside, the physical.

Maybe it’s just a dream,…..”But never let it be said that to dream is a waste of one’s time, for dreams are realities in waiting. In dreams we plant the seeds of the future”.

******

I hope everyone’s having a wonderful day, evening, night or morning and are living discrimination free 😊

I know this isn’t possible for everyone, so if you are living with discrimination, please try to know that you are stronger than the hate and that it won’t last forever. Even if the kind of hate you are experiencing feels like it will never end or it’s become part of how you feel about yourself, you will make it out. You are so strong and you are loved, even if it’s not coming from those who are supposed to love and support you, YOU ARE LOVED UNCONDITIONALLY.

-A.A. Milne, from the book ‘Winnie the Pooh’, a children’s book.
by introvertontheinternet

Anxiety

Anxiety.

Anxious.

I try not to be.

Be reasonable,

there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Just people.

People aren’t scary.

My heartbeat says otherwise.

There’s nothing to be afraid of.

I can’t stop sweating,

I can see and hear everything.

Hyperaware…..that’s what it’s called.

I think I’m going to be sick.

No need to be afraid, I tell myself.

But, everything else is telling me otherwise.

I feel like crying.

Like disappearing,

going into my house and never leaving.

******

I wrote this at LGBT group last night, as part of a poetry workshop.

I was feeling really anxious, as you can probably tell by le poem, so I just wrote what I was feeling in that moment, my physical responses and thought processes.

I didn’t think it was that great….pretty shit actually but when I shared it, I had a pretty positive response. Some people said that they could relate to it, which actually felt really good. It sounds weird….but a lot of the time my anxiety makes me feel really alone and hearing that others can relate makes me feel like less of a lone shaking leaf.

Obviously, I know that other people experience anxiety but because it’s not always obvious and fairly easy to hide, it’s really easy to feel like the only one.

Especially when Niagara Falls levels of sweat is rolling down my back and I feel like I’m going to start screaming from the stress, ‘The Grinch tries yoga’ style.

So, I’m sharing this today, in hopes of helping someone else feel a little less alone.

I hope y’all are having a wonderful day, hopefully not filled with anxiety.

If you are struggling (with anxiety, or anything), here are some healthy coping mechanisms, especially for if your out and about:

  • Listening to music
  • Practising mindfulness techniques, like the 5 senses exercise (focus on 1 thing you can taste, 2 things you can smell, 3 things you can hear, 4 things you can feel (touch) and 5 things you can see)~I actually use this one a lot and it’s really helpful. It can also be really good for developing your dream lucidity abilities, if your interested in that kind of thing. Another mindfulness technique that I find really helpful is ‘The Colour Game’. It works best if you do it with another person but you can also do it alone. Basically, all you do is: say colours that you see aloud, but different colours from the other person, kinda batting colours back and forth. Like eye spy but only with colours-at first-and no guessing. Eventually your going to run out of colours~you might be saddened like I was, realising that due to our limited human vision (in the majority) there’s not nearly enough colours to satisfy~but fear not, now you can move on to everything else you can see, making this technique very much eye spy without the guessing.
  • Having an object which you can hold and feel, in order to feel grounded. An example of what this might be and what to do is: A pebble; which you can hold in your palm, focusing on it’s weight and how it feels against your skin.
  • Writing down how you feel~writing my poem actually helped to release a lot of the stress I was feeling at the time. It can be in any form; a poem, a song, a rap….random words scattered on a page. And it doesn’t have to make sense, just let your words be free.

by introvertontheinternet

Learning to walk away

My whole life people have told me that I need to stand up for myself.

That I’m spineless.

A cowardice doormat.

I never quite got what they meant because in my eyes, I was standing up for myself.

I would shout back-at bullies-and sometimes try and physically fight back~which I was terrible at.

It wasn’t until recently that I realised that sometimes, standing up for yourself doesn’t mean fighting back, it means walking away.

Walking away, refusing to fight back….just ending the chapter.

Sometimes it’s better to just cut contact and never look back.

Even if that person meant the world to you.

In walking away, I’ve done the best I possibly can for myself.

I’ve decided that although I don’t fully like myself yet (full self love will probably come later in life(hopefully)), I like and respect myself enough to say, “no, you will not treat me like shit, if you treat me like this, you can no longer be a part of my life”.

“Even though you were an important part of my life and I have many good memories with you, that does not make your behaviour excusable. If you think you can treat me like shit and I’ll let you, you are wrong”.

I think that’s the mistake I made in the past.

I was so desperate to have someone to talk to…to have real friends, that I couldn’t walk away.

No matter how many times people did horrible things, I just kept trying.

Blinded by desperation.

Now, I can walk away.

Now, I’m okay to be on my own.

I have a good relationship with myself (as long as I don’t look in a mirror).

And I have good friends, who I don’t see as much as I’d like to but they treat me with respect.

They respect boundaries and stick with me through the good and the bad.

I don’t see them as often as I would like but I know that their there.

by introvertontheinternet

Brown’s CBD Oil Review

I’ve been using CBD in various forms for about a year now and it has had a massively positive impact on my life. I can honestly say, more than anything, that without CBD I would not be here.

For this review, I will first explain, for those of you who might not know, what CBD is and then I’ll do my actual product review.

If you already know the bizz with CBD, feel free to skip past my explanation.

What is CBD?

If your not already aware; CBD is one compound, of many, found to occur naturally within the-somewhat-commonly, ill-famed cannabis plant. Although compared to THC, the component most people might associate with cannabis, CBD is non-psychoactive.

What does that mean? You may ask.

It means that when you take it, smoke it, eat it…whatever way you choose to consume it, your not going to get high/stoned/so gouched you become one with your couch.

You can function on CBD.

You can work and excel on CBD.

You can relax on CBD.

CBD does not impair you judgement or cause any form of intoxication.

It is a naturally occurring anti-psychotic and has been proven to be beneficial in aiding both physical and emotional/mental illnesses.

Brown’s 5% Hemp Oil Extract, 10mls

Exterior Design:

A small, pocket-sized, matt-black dripper top bottle.~Very simple, yet aesthetically pleasing.

Dripper top is screw-on, very secure~it feels good to put my oil in my bag and not be slightly feart that it’ll spill everywhere.

Measurement Dripper~I really liked this feature, as when using dripper bottles before it’s been a little bit difficult to gauge my dosage using sheer guesstimation and I always end up using more than intended. Makes dosing a lot easier.

Also, with greater dosage control comes greater expectations for ye auld bank account. Hopefully.

Actual Oil, contained within the confines of ye interior bottle:

Taste~At first I found the taste to be a bit too heavy and rich…very, very hempy and oily tasting. It has a taste very similar to that of the homemade butter one might add to their cakes around about spring time (or any time).

But after a few drops, like most oils I’ve tried, I got used to the taste.

I still notice it sometimes but that’s only if I don’t leave it to soak into my membranes for long enough.

Effects

As I consume CBD in many different forms daily, I was slightly concerned that I would’t necessarily be able to measure this oils effectiveness.

But I was wrong.

I’ve been trying to go out more, trying to challenge my social phobias a little bit more-recently, compared to previous times.

So, on Wednesday, I challenged myself to become more socially involved with some people I go to a group, in town, with.

Fair to say, I was shitting myself. I was so terrified that I wouldn’t be able to speak or that I’d come across as socially awkward or rude.

But thanks to this oil, a few drops every few hours, I think I did quite well.

I even managed to take my headphones off for a bit (when I was alone) and stay grounded in my surroundings-not in town town, Merchant City, but regardless I feel quite proud of myself.

Feel free to checkout Brown’s CBD Oil at: https://www.brownscbd.co.uk/

by introvertontheinternet

Time

Time doesn’t stop for anyone.

Not you, not me, not your loved ones.

You can take certain substances that might change the way you perceive it but it won’t stop.

There are many uncertainties in life, many unanswered questions.

So many things that we don’t know, the things we do being somewhat incomprehensible in and of themselves.

Time doesn’t stop for anyone and we’re all going to die.

When I was 13 I started to get depressed about time, so much so that I missed out on a lot (of time) because of it. I was doing a drama summer school and I think I was due to go into 3rd year in the coming August. I remember we were doing our morning warm-up and as I was turning round~I’m not sure what we were doing~it suddenly struck me about, time. I was going to be 14 in the new school year and I suddenly wondered, ‘where has the time gone? How did I get here?

I know how I physically got to the class that morning.

But not how had I travelled through time so quickly, how had the years flown by so fast?

It seemed like one minute I’d been a child and then suddenly I was going into my first “serious” year of high school, reflecting in that moment.

That was when I started getting depressed about time moving too fast, I remember asking loads of people~family members~about how they experienced time.

Does it keep getting faster? Yes.

Well, maybe it doesn’t actually go faster but you perceive it as going faster as you age.

Perhaps not everyone perceives it that way but many do.

I think its perhaps repetition, that makes it seem faster.

Doing the same things over and over again: the same occupation every day, the same route to and from, the same hobbies, clubs.

I’m gonna stop with the above subject for now as, if I think about it too much it starts to fuck with my head. I end up spiralling and getting stuck beneath the infinite cascading waves of thought, and depression.

I will say though that ever since then, the depression lasted a lot longer than the aforementioned catalyst thought, I have been very analytical about how I perceive life. I’ve always been very analytical but this made me more so. I also think that perhaps I think too much, which has been bad for me mentally but I think that it might help me to do well for myself. I also have a lot more ways to cope with the bad side of things-spiraling-than I used to, when I was younger, which is a definite game-changer.

{Update:

You as the reader, are probably wondering wtf I’m jabbering on about and all I can say is that I was amidst the crimson waves and feeling very emotional and reflective. I was having a wee blub to myself, thinking about how far I’ve come in life. I used to get so depressed and stressed out about time passing by, I was so scared that one day I’d look up and my memories-or any pictures I had-would be the only proof that I’d lived. That I’d go from 14 to 50 in the blink of an eye, having done nothing with my life because I was too depressed and scared of everything. It’s taken me a while but I can now say that I’m okay with time passing by. It only feels like it passes by in the blink of an eye in retrospect. Looking back, you won’t remember everything…you’ll remember key events…things that stuck in your mind. Those things will condense down and everything will seem like it’s sort of wooshed by. But at the same time, every experience, every home, every old friend or acquaintance will feel lifetimes ago. When you learn to live in the moment, the passage of time, no matter it’s speed doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. I think I secretly wanted time to go by faster when I was younger, I wanted it to go by faster so that I could grow up, leave school and home and be me without other peoples judgments. I also wanted to be accepted for me. It’s taken a while to get here but in the last year, I’ve been more me than I have been in a long time. I started practicing mindfulness techniques, around a year ago in order to try and enhance my experience and lucidity whilst dreaming, and I’ve found that they’ve also really helped me to live more in the moment. You might know a bit about mindfulness, if you don’t, I basically do things like, if I’m walking through town, I look at things around me. I observe and notice things around me, look at them, like really look at them, think of its colours, what it’s made of, how old it is, it’s history. From looking up from my phone and looking at the world around me, I’ve noticed things like…..how beautiful the buildings in Glasgow (town) are, some of them have pillars like they were built in Roman times-probably not but one likes to imagine-and others have gorgeous Edwardian style roofs and balconies. Becoming consciously aware of things you can see, hear, feel, smell and taste. In becoming more mindful of my human experience and the environment around me, I have spent less and less time on social media, my phone and subsequently, the internet. Spending less time online has helped me to get back in touch with things I used to enjoy when I was younger-like reading and drawing-before everyone had a computer in their pocket that they were constantly lost in. By simply spending less time online-it wasn’t simple at all, it took a lot of time and reflection-and doing things I enjoy and finding a purpose, I feel like I’ve grown to be at peace with the passage of time. I lost someone very important to me at the end of last year and it broke my heart, I felt powerless. There was nothing I could do, I couldn’t bring them back. As much as it still hurts me today. that loss has helped me to understand and be more at peace with the cycle of life. Time doesn’t stop for anyone and we’re all going to die but that’s just the way life works. People die every day but people are also born every day. Time will go by and I’ll grow old and I’ll die one day but that’s just the way life is. Nobody can live forever, even if one could, you would lose a lot more than your mortality. I’ll probably learn and experience enough that by the time the time comes I’ll be accepting of death, like it’s okay, I’m ready to move on now…ready to experience whatever’s next. What I’m getting at here, is that I’ve accepted that time is just a part of life, a very important part but still simply a cog in the machine of life. By dwelling in it and not accepting it, I caused the machine to malfunction but by accepting it, things are running a lot more smoothly. 02/07/2019}

******

It’s that time~haha~ of the month again….I feel like shit, I can’t stop crying and~the delightful cherry on top~my ovaries feel like they’re slowly working there way up the inside of my body to strangle me from the inside-out. It’s also fucking boiling but the sky looks like it’s got a storm a-brewin’.

I feel like death.

I hope y’all are having a wonderful, hopefully not horrendously humid (Satur)day!

by introvertontheinternet

The Monster

*TRIGGER WARNING*

This blogpost contains content that some readers may find distressing or triggering. Unless you feel you are at a sufficient place in your recovery or do not struggle with an Eating Disorder-or any food related issues for that matter-I suggest you give this one a miss.

Personally, I can’t actually read back a lot of what I’ve written in relation to my mental health. I sometimes can but I have to be careful cause words can invite you in. If your not in a good place or even an okay place, the wrong words can invite you in and trap you.

******

An eating disorder is a monster

that hijacks your mind, body, and soul.

It eats away at your brain,

making sure that every day there’s less of you left.

Taking away every fragment of you.

Replacing each discarded piece

with a piece of itself.

Each action, interaction

is dictated by the beast. 

Everything that makes you unique

sucked away into an endless vacuum. 

It takes your voice

and locks it away.

So no matter how loud you scream,

how long you beg it to stop,

no one will never hear you.

It ensures that any relationship,

apart from the one between you and it,

is cut. 

Or at the very least

kept at arm’s length.

It takes everything

until the only way to get rid of it,

is to get rid of you.

by introvertontheinternet

Dermatillomania

When I’m feeling 

stressed,

anxious,

depressed.

I pick at my skin,

it always helps,

I dunno why.

I’m always picking away,

squeezing away,

all the imperfections.

Making imperfections,

while removing them.

I think there imperfections

but 

they might not be there.

I always think,

‘What if I’ve got skin cancer,

I need to squeeze out the skin cancer’.

I think there’s something wrong with me 

cause 

I don’t think others think like this.

Claw at their skin,

with fear of disease.

All the while,

most likely,

creating disease.

by introvertontheinternet

My Voice

*TRIGGER WARNING*

This blogpost contains content that some readers may find triggering or distressing. Only read if you feel able cope the subject matter of sexual based trauma.

I wrote this last night when I was drunk, quite a running theme for when I write emotional poetry…the only time I can write about bad stuff that’s happened…which probably isn’t great.

Anyhoo….here it is:

Please don’t talk to me,

Please talk to me,

I’m sorry I’m not here,

I checked out a while ago.

I always want to talk to people,

but I can’t.

I feel that when the bad thing happened,

his dick stole my voice,

stole an essential part of my soul.

Lots of terrible things happened before that,

but after that,

that one particular night,

2 hours to be exact,

I couldn’t find it within myself to talk,

to even look at others.

It’s like,

everything that happened just took over,

became an unbudging boulder,

over everything.

Leaving only a half-assed attempt mask of who I was before.

Thankfully most people can’t see through it,

Can’t see how truly destroyed I am.

How much I’m not really here.

******

This poem is about rape and about how he took so much more than my dignity. I feel like my dignity was somewhat easier to get back….I think. This is really difficult to write (talk) about.

I think people think that I’m being rude when I don’t talk to them or run away from them when they try to speak to me but that’s really not the case…I get afraid…terrified that people can see how much pain I’m in. I also can’t socialise the way I used to anymore, I can’t strike up casual conversation, I can’t joke around and laugh at trivial things anymore, I’m afraid that people can see how awkward and different I am now. I don’t like meeting up with people I knew before because I think they can sense that I’m not the same and I want to be the person that they knew but I’m really not. I also used to be really good at making new friends, starting up conversations from nowhere but even that’s harder than making cheese out of playdough. A lot of the time I also just don’t have anything to say, like all my words, my ability to make words has been taken away, sucked into an endless unforgiving vacuum. The effort it takes to try and pretend that the worst thing that could have possibly happened didn’t indeed happen is astronomically tiring. It makes me want to spend all my time alone because then I don’t have to speak, don’t have to put on an act, I can just breathe and be me. Me who is now very quiet.

(I feel I should add this; CBD oil has helped me deal with these issues quite a bit and I’m on a journey to getting my good auld sociable self back but it’s still really difficult and I’ve got a really long way to go. I can, at the very least, say that I am trying and I try to take each day as it comes. I guess all you can do is try and hopefully one day you’ll get to your destination.

I’m also still able to talk to close friends, some family members, and a few workers, which I’m very thankful for but I can’t go through my whole life being mute around everyone else, especially when I’d love to talk to everyone.)

I don’t know if any of this makes sense but I know that nobody really reads this so I guess it doesn’t have to make sense. I guess I’m using this as a coping mechanism and nobody else has to view it for it to work for me.

I wish I could share this with more people but I feel so up my own arse sharing the link, like I think it’s great and I’m proud of myself for being able to write about stuff but I think/worry that I’m oversharing and people just want me to shut the fuck up. 

I hope that anyone who reads this enjoys it and has a wonderful day. 🙂

by introvertontheinternet

I’m Sorry

I wish I could go and visit you.

I’m sorry for all the times that I didn’t.

I was scared because you were ill,

I was scared.

So scared that you were going to die that I couldn’t even see you.

Pathetic.

If I could go back in time,

I’d come see you every day.

I’d make sure that you knew I loved you,

that we got to spend time together.

Instead of sitting,

getting stoned,

trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Trying to kill my own pain,

rather than putting my time to good use,

by spending time with you,

cherishing the time of a clock that was about to stop. 

I’m sorry Granny,

I’m sorry for not visiting you,

until the almost end.

Without you,

I feel like there’s no point in anything,

no point in getting up

unless I’m making you proud.

On the days that I’m not at college,

working towards my goal,

I feel nothing but 

sadness, 

guilt, 

shame,

that I’m not doing enough,

to be the best I can be.

I want to be the best for me,

but I also want to be the best for you.

I want to make you proud,

but I also want to make me proud.

I just want to be the best I can be.

The best friend, daughter, sister.

The best I can be.

******

I wrote this the other night when I was, for lack of a better term, mwi. Obviously, there’s a little bit of exaggeration but I do feel on the days that I’m not really doing anything that I’m wasting time…time that I could be using to create or work towards my career goals. I do have good days and they’re happening more often but I also have bad days and weeks but I guess it’s all part of the journey that is life.

I hope you enjoy reading it.

I hope y’all are having a wonderful Thursday 😊

by introvertontheinternet

Grief

Grief is like an ocean,

one minute your surfing its waves,

sun shining down,

a melancholy sadness

hangs in the air.

You remember all the times you spent together,

whether good or bad.

It’s sad and it’s painful,

but you accept that death is part of life.

Grief feels heavy.

Heavy like your wearing a suit made of rocks.

A suit made of rocks, a boulder at your heart

 of random memories,

the next,

your drowning,

being dragged down by rocks

your weeping into your coffee,

drowning in an ocean.

******

This poem doesn’t necessarily make sense but neither does grief.  

23/01/19