Ok, I eventually will stop apologising

Ok, I know this is like the 15 million time I’ve apologised for not posting on time, but I just moved back to my apartment, which turned out to be more time consuming than usual. And I don’t have internet. So I’m currently sitting in the library posting this. I unfortunately don’t have time to post my stuff right now (and I also don’t have my laptop with me) but I definitely will do it tomorrow. I’ve completed all the posts and they just need to be posted. Whenever I return, the first week is always super busy with getting ready for the school year and catching up with the friends that I miss dearly. So please bare with me for getting behind.

 

Where to begin…

For this entry, I’ve been having so much trouble finding a way to put what I want to say into words. So I figured I’d do my best and write a bit of an introduction where I’ll share some thoughts I have on Canadian cinema and it’s use as a mode of expression of ourselves.

I find Canadian cinema and television to be wildly unique and showcase very Canadian things. Whenever I’ve been involved or stumbled across a discussion of what it is to be Canadian, or what is considered Canadian, it’s very difficult to put it into words. But watch a few Canadian movies or a few episodes a show like Corner Gas, and you can see for yourself what we can’t seem to just say. Anyone who has been in Canada long enough is very aware of this obsessive need we have to define and justify ourselves, and show everyone that yes, we do have things to be proud of. It’s arguable that it’s an overplayed, exhausted discussion and that we should just move on and talk about something else, but how can we when there is no satisfying definition? We want to find those words because we want to be able to talk about it.

Canadian cinema flies under the radar since we seem to have a self loathing, love hate relationship with ourselves. There’s a quiet pride that competes with the boisterous, loud voice of Hollywood. We’re the back-wood, gritty dysfunctional relatives of Hollywood. We’re real, we’re raw and we don’t feel the need to make a big fuss. Why? Well, we don’t have box office pressures or a mainstream market so our industry is free of being polluted and corrupted by money since it’s all independent. Without the pressure, we are left with our passion; No one gets into internal Canadian film for the money. So I guess what I love about Canadian film is that we air our dirty laundry high on that clothes line in the backyard, and show what we are. The ugly, the beautiful and just plain fucked up stuff about us. And there’s no chance of us selling out –we don’t have the budget.

To be honest, I’m not particularly proud of this entry. I guess I don’t have this theme as figured out as I thought I did. All I know is that I have a lot of pride and respect for our home grown TV shows, movies, books and magazines. I’m hopeful that with time I’ll be able to find the words to share why I love Canada and Canadian things (beyond just sentimental value) after digging deeply into this Canadian world of mine.

 

The Start…

Hello readers, if you’re out there.

Since I didn’t decide on these changes to my blog before or right at the start of August, I’ve decided to post two entries in the 2^nd week of August (this past week) so that things will remain even…I don’t know why that’s so important to me…must be a touch of OCD in my system.

 

Change is good…

I haven’t been honouring my writing like I should be or could be even though I want to write and improve any skill I potentially have. But every time I sat down to write, I drew a blank and thus have ended up here, a few weeks down the road and barely having anything written. I reflected as to possible reasons as to why my pen seemed to run out of ink. Then it hit me… The majority of my posts I would mainly about my PTSD and recovery or guy issues. At this point in my life, my PTSD is under control and no longer a burden on my life. And as for guy issues… Please, I don’t exactly have a whole lot going on there. Over the past few months I’ve cut away all the toxic relations and practices I had going on in my life. So for months now, my life has been pretty drama free, which is as refreshing as it sounds. I’ve been in good spirits, my self-esteem is up and I’m just trying to live my life and be a good person.

My original intent for this blog was not to write about myself as much as I have. My original intent was to focus on pieces that relate to things that interest me. For those of you who have followed my blog long enough, you’d know that I haven’t exactly done that. Writing turned out to be very therapeutic and I was actually amazed as to how many messages I’ve received over the past couple years of people thanking me for being so open about what I was going through because they could relate or it helped them gain a better understanding of these things which (at least I find) are deeply misunderstood. But now I feel it is time for me to step away from this detour and get back to my original plan.

So what am I to write about now? First off, I’ve finally taken the first step in moving forward and I’ve begun to plan a future. It’s scary yet incredibly exciting and exhilarating. It’s been several years since I’ve allowed myself to dream. I had made a point of stifling and suppressing any dream I had dared to think. But now it’s time for those chapters to end and to start a fresh page. It’s time to step out of the shadows and do something with my life. I’ve been in recovery long enough and I’m ready to branch out and start living again.

So besides giving a brief update of where I stand, I would like to take the opportunity to unveil what I have planned in terms of writing and my blog. I feel it best to start slow so that I don’t get too overwhelmed. As I just mentioned I started making plans and started opening doors for myself and I don’t want to get over my head. I’ve decided to write 4 entries a month (one a week) and each will correspond with a theme. Will these themes remain permanent? I haven’t thought that far ahead. But for now, the following are my 4 themes.

CANADIANA- Anyone who knows me knows that I’m very proud of my heritage. Nonetheless, that doesn’t stop me from carrying the pride I have of being Canadian. I really do love this country and I do greatly understand and appreciate just how fortunate I am to be part of this country. With that said, I think Canada is very much understated in our role in film, politics and history. I would like to bring some attention, however small, to the things that interest or even vexes me about this country.

OPINION - For a good portion of my life, I’ve kept my opinion to myself and I would usual avoid answering questions that expect an opinionated response. For the most part I didn’t want to sound stupid but I also just didn’t care, which left me with no real opinion on the matter. I think that there are far too many people who are apathetic. A lot of people would rather have someone else come up with an opinion for them and I believe they don’t realise the power they are handing over by not speaking up and ignoring the issue altogether. I no longer wish to be one of those people. Besides, I’m giving myself free license to whine.

LITERARY - I love to read and it amazes me how hard it is to find someone to discuss books and articles with. So I figured why not share it with whomever comes across this online? I use to love doing book reports and writing about stories and articles we read in class, and especially loved the comments left in the margins of my assignments and the discussions with my teachers after class. Reading is dying out and I find that very unsettling and I definitely don’t want to be part of the deterioration but rather help to preserve it.

CLOSE TO THE HEART- At the end of the day, this blog is still about my life, my world and how I perceive things that lie beyond my boundaries. I’ve spent the past couple years writing about my life and I feel it appropriate to remain connected to where I’ve been with this blog. So once I month I will write about something of my personal choosing.

I never imagined a blog would ever be so important in my life and I want to keep it up and honour what writing has done for me and will continue to provide for me.

 

Story of my life

My heart is beating so hard it could shatter iron

I’m breathing so hard I could knock down the mountains

Time has slowed down and I stop. And stare.

Waiting for a reaction

Waiting for something, any sign of life

The smallest indication, anything. Desperate to let out an overdue sigh

When do I get my sigh of relief?

I want to hope, I want to hold on, but.

But it’s the same story.

And the same conclusion.

I wait.

Was I really that wrong?

 

Opinion – Romance Novels

So I figured I’d write something that is purely my opinion at this moment in time. I mean, I write a lot about what’s going on in my life and what I’m feeling (and I have my reasons for that) and I figured I’d write something that shared an opinion I have about a given topic. If I offend anyone, that is not my intent, but you can’t blame me for having an opinion.

I’ve pretty much lost all respect for modern romance novels. When I was young and naive, I started reading them in order to have a look through the window and see what awaited me in the world of romance. I remember how I’d get home from school and read at least 100 pages, completely engrossed in this world of perfect love. I would finish each book, ready to start the next, and also finding myself excited for when the love of my life will come into my world and sweep me off my feet. I can’t help but chuckle at how innocent and naive I was. Like any phase, it died and i moved on to other things.

From time to time, I’d pick up a historical romance and endulge in my guilty pleasure. this time more aware that real life doesn’t work like that and just enjoying the fantasy of it all. However, once I started reading classical romances, the likes of Jane Austen, I started to realise how poor these modern books were in comparison. The quality is unmatched and people don’t understand just how bad these books really are.

I started reading this one romance where these 2 business associates decided to have a child together but only to satisfy each others need to have a child without being married, and they each had their reasons for why they don’t want a relationship or commitment of any kind. I mean, the plot is completely predictable, but it started out well and was interesting, yet went downhill shortly after. I’m sorry, but falling so deeply and madly in love after the first time you sleep together? These two people weren’t friends, she just wanted his good genes; they knew nothing about each other. After the first day of spending time together, they are suddenly able to finish each others sentences and know what the other is thinking? I’m sorry, but that is not realistic, not even a slight exaggeration. And besides, what’s the moral of this story? Decide to bear some hot guy’s child with no strings attached, and he’ll fall madly in love with you are serious about carrying his child? The problem I have with this, is that young girls are reading this rubbish and probably don’t realise that this is not what real life and real relationships are like. A lot of the romances out there that are tailored to young girls are aren’t real love. It’s this pathetic excuse for claiming possession of someone, and calling it love.

Love should be written about in its true form. Is love always healthy? no, of course not. But don’t create an unhealthy relationship and bran it as healthy, as something ideal. It’s dishonest and when your demographic is young impressionable girls, it’s irresponsible.

And for the record, Edward Cullen is NO Mr Darcy. Nothing bothers me more than when people say that; they’ve clearly never read Pride and Prejudice. I find it very troublesome that girls are swooning over a pathetic whelp who goes on about how he doesn’t want to live or breathe if he’s not with Bella. That is not admirable, putting the dependency of your life on someone else. Love is about sacrifice, strength, respect, hope, loyalty and wanting to make someone else happy because that brings you joy. Not giving up your own life and being miserable because you can’t be around your ‘love’ 24/7. What does that prove?

As I read over what I’ve written, I feel as though I come across kind of jaded or as if I’m yelling and mad. I’m really not. It’s just that I feel like people don’t have the strength and patience needed to find real love. And I don’t think people even understand what it means anymore. At least the romances I read when I was a teenager, even though they were dramatized, portrayed strength and stoicism as something admirable and attractive, instead of possession, obsession and weakness being disguised as heroic and desirable.

 

Reality sucks…time to step into a world of imagination

So far this summer I’ve been very low key, keeping off of people’s radar, mostly intentionally. Its been a hard year, filled with plenty of drama, tears, and pain. This has been one of my hardest years so far. To be honest, I want to just spend the rest of my summer living in some good books and living in my writing. There isn’t much going on in my life right now. I mean, for a while I thought things were picking up with this guy I’ve been crushing on, but over the past 2 weeks I can’t seem to get his attention, no idea why, and I’m not going to keep trying because I don’t want to look desperate. I mean, my real life seems to lacking any activity — school’s out for the summer, my friends are in another city and there doesn’t seem to be  a guy out there showing much interest in me. So, why not create a world of my own, where I can control what happens, instead of feeling helpless? I mean, I think it can be a fun project, seeing how I’ve always started writing and than given up. I’ve put too much pressure, and this is just for kicks and so that I can live vicariously through another median. Just have to remember not to get lost in it.

Oh! And I’m starting to read “The Princes of Ireland” by Edward Rutherfurd. I want to write about it as I read each section, so if you’d like to read along (assuming there’s anyone following my blog), then feel free to do so. I’d like to some day start a book club, because I don’t think enough people read and I also love discussing books, but can’t these days since no one really read anymore, as previously mentioned.

 

I’ve returned

As the title of this entry states, I’ve returned to my blog. I’ve actually missed it this whole time, but I stopped feeling like what I was written had any sort of purpose. Why should I write about how I feel and what I think? Just to be part of this new culture wave of people obsessed to record their every thought? I didn’t think I had anything worth writing, so I didn’t bother.

Today, actually about an hour ago, I had a very honest moment. I think one of the saddest thing a person can go through is to be made to feel like they’re worthless. Unfortunately I’ve been battling such a feeling for the majority of my young life. Every time I think I’m done with it, something else surfaces or is triggered, and I’m back to where I was the last time I felt that way — alone in my room feeling even worse than the last time about myself. No one should be made to feel like that. Has anyone intentionally attempted to make me feel that way? Maybe, I’m not entirely sure, I don’t think so, but for whatever reason I keep coming to such a conclusion. Unfortunately, when you feel like nothing, yet desire to be anything, it brings out a desperation. Just any little bit of justification that you’ve been wrong the whole time, that you’re just being paranoid and stupid, and the fact is that you are worth something and this is why. But your reason why is merely a superficial justification. There’s no real security in it, there’s nothing to anchor it. And so you search for something more, something bigger as a test that you are actually worth more than just a tiny little sliver. But again, that search is never satisfied. Even if you find something bigger to prove that you’re worth something, the smallest thing will crush that illusion of your ‘real worth’. It’s an addictive search for the same satisfaction you once felt when you believed at some point that you have value.  But again, it doesn’t work, it doesn’t hold. You know why? Because you already have value. You can not put a price on your value; it’s priceless.

I’m aware I’m either sounding very Oprah-like or a bunch of cliches…which are arguably the same thing, but I believe it to be true. I was in such pain of  believing that I’m worthless that it brought me to my knees. And I begged out loud for an answer as to why I am so weak, what purpose would that serve to be on this Earth and have no strength? What do I do? What do I do for I honestly do not know, I just want the pain to stop…I instantly stopped crying, and started to breathe a steady breath, just in and out. With each breathe I could feel myself calming down. I stay there on my floor in silence for a few moments bracing myself. I was expecting my calm feeling to vanish as quickly as it came. There was then this tiny, faint whisper ‘I am not worthless’. I said it inside my head a few times. ‘I am not worthless’. I then said it aloud, feeling the words and sounds past through my lips in the same faint whisper. I continued to say it until I felt the strength come back to my legs, and I stood up and I looked at my window. ‘I am not worthless, I have worth. And if I have no value to anyone else, I see value in myself and that is enough.’

Enough.

We all want to be enough…but we can’t desperately try to seek it, because eventually, someday, you’ll realise that you’ve been enough the whole time. I’ve been enough this whole time.

If I still have any readers, or even if I’m the only one interested in this post or of the continuation of this blog, I have returned, and I do not intend to leave it for so long again.

 

My New Thing — Meditation

Last night was the first time I tried meditation. I’d been looking into it for a while, looking up peoples responses as well as the different types of meditation… I do research on things that I’m unsure about. I don’t know why I felt so nervous about it. I guess I was worried of where my mind would go.

Anyhow, so yesterday I finally did it, just a simple breathing meditation. That’s where you sit down, close your eyes and focus on your breathing for like 10-15 minutes. At first, as the articles told me, I noticed how busy my mind was and it was hard to keep it focused and deny the temptation to follow the busy thoughts in my head. But finally I did, and I was amazed and surprised at my response. Tears started escaping my eyes, running down my face. I didn’t move to wipe the away, I didn’t even try to tell myself to stop crying or to try and figure out why I was crying in the first place. I just let them be, let them fall down my face as I concentrated on my breathing.

I feel like our lives are like our minds, so busy and never taking a proper moment for ourselves to reconnect and check in with ourselves and our emotions. I also think we don’t properly de-stress. And I don’t mean by watching a few episodes of a TV show and giving into a distraction from what is truly bothering us. I feel like that’s a band aid fix. I’m talking about getting right down to the basics and relaxing your mind, body and soul by letting go of our stresses. Those tears where me letting go of some of my stress and my pain, which I had been harbouring. A lot of tension left my body, my heart and my mind. I felt like I had centered my mind and I honestly feel more relaxed.

Here’s some meditation music that I like. Take some true time for yourself. Put your phone on silent, close Facebook and just sit with your back straight in a chair (or on your bed, which is what I did), or, close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Stop when the music stops.

 

There’s No Shame in Wanting to be Held

What I am about to admit for all to see, I’ve only been able to say out loud to a friend about a week ago for the first time. Something within me feels the need to share it; Maybe for the sake of being honest. So here it goes.

This is probably the loneliest I have ever felt in my life. Up until a few months ago, I’ve always had some way of feeling like I’m not entirely alone. I’ve either had a boyfriend or a tight friendship, and all this happened at a point in our lives where we weren’t as busy and we had more free time, so it was easier to get together and hang out with people. At times when I was in high school and also during first year of university, it was enough for me to go into a chat room, and talk anonymously to a stranger for a night, and that would satisfy my need of having a decent conversation and a few laughs with someone. The past few months, I haven’t been able to fill my quota. I’m busy, my friends are busy, people are involved in a committed relationships that require dedication and time. Plus I feel like all this technology has separated us in many crucial ways and have made it harder to be face to face to one another. But that’s for another post. Loneliness has set in and I’ve been too proud but also slightly ashamed/embarrassed to admit it to anyone. But what shame is there in admitting to wanting companionship? There isn’t.

I desire companionship deeper than the superficial exchanges and relations that use to be enough for me not too long ago. I believe this is called growing up. Now, I’m aware that the companionship I seek takes time and I’m adjusting to being patient. Let’s face it; my generation isn’t exactly built on patience, but rather instant gratification. However I no longer see the harm in admitting to my desire of true, meaningful affection.

Spending so much time on my own has allowed me to really reflect on the past and to figure out what is missing from my life at this moment. I know this sounds so cliche, but it’s really been a journey, and definitely not an easy one, to get to this point of my life where I can think about the future without panicking, to admitting boldly what I want. Alone time is good, and for the most part I don’t mind it. I’m actually kind of proud that I can be in a room, completely silent, with no distractions and feel sane, because before I couldn’t.  But every now and then, and particularly on cold nights like tonight, I miss having someone to spend time with, or to call and talk to while I’m wrapped up in my blanket. I miss feeling like I’m special in someone else’s eyes. I guess I’m saying that I miss feeling loved.