by writing-against-the-tides

What’ll I do?

We found the things in each other that we would probably never find in others. The love and understanding and pain that we unapologetically share. Society won’t accept us. Mum won’t accept us, because she doesn’t know or accept me. I’m a disappointment to them and you are to them too. Soon I will be more of a disappointment.

I can’t imagine being without you after knowing you. It pains me and makes me feel terrified. I don’t want to be away from you. This is the loneliest night and out of all people, you used to be there, before I told you to give me space. Of course mum would never know or care or even react properly to me.

I can’t be without you. It’s dark without you and I wish I can just call you, but I am forced to see someone else. I don’t want to see someone else or show myself to someone else. I don’t want to smile for someone else. I want you and no one else.

They play on my fears and say that you will be exhausting and drive me crazy. Is this what they also went through, are they regretting their lovers who are supposed to be like you? Are you like them? Will you leave me with piles of debt and isolated children?

Will they think that your past is too dark that they can see no light in our future together?

I’ve never felt so alone, cold and heartbroken like this. It’s scarier than anything I have gone through – losing you.

You’re not like them. You came with a degree, they didn’t. You came with health problems that you sought help with, when I encouraged you to, they didn’t go for treatment. You changed when we discussed, theorised and debated, they didn’t. Sometimes you’re stubborn like them, you are fearful of responsibilities, just like them. But you’re my friend unlike them, in relation to their wives. We both want a normal relationship when our families want us to go through rigorous checks and procedures.

You have a year to get your salary, and then save up for an income for us to be married. They won’t wait, but I was willing to do so. Your family will accept me, mine won’t. But I know that once they know you they will. It’s hard to get them to give you a chance.

I love and fall hard. Can I trust myself this time? They told me to think with my brain but all I can hear is a heart beating.

I’m complex, you are too, but much more difficult.

Can I trust you? Can I trust myself?

I feel guilty and at fault, but I promise, I’m forced to.

25/10/20 1:57 am

by writing-against-the-tides

Race Includes Everyone

Your Mind Matters - the blog

This post was written by Dr Avril Gabriel, a Counselling Psychologist, who works in the Advice and Counselling Service at Queen Mary. She draws upon different theories, mainly third wave CBT approaches, such as Compassion Focused therapy. She seeks to create a supportive and explorative space, to help the client make sense of their experience.

What do you see when you look at this page? At first you only notice letters. Your brain says “right, that’s where the action is”. The focus is on the black letters. You do not notice that they are black letters on a white page. Without the white background the black letters would not be seen in the same way. The same is true, in my experience, of discussions around race. Nobody talks about or notices the background (whiteness), of course it is there, it creates context, but it almost goes unnoticed, unnamed. It…

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by writing-against-the-tides

Everything Has Changed

Even with anger and destruction you form relationships.

themindparadox

The nature of reality is whatever you want it to be. If you are a scientist, then everything is matter, to be broken down, separated, analysed and categorised. Everything needs to be put into boxes, even the boxes need boxes. If you are an artist, then everything is beautiful. Even in destruction, you see beautiful patterns. The form of a rose burned to crisp is beautiful. You can be standing in a room where a man was murdered and find yourself admiring the particular way light is reflecting off the blood on the wall. If you are a religious person, then everything is an instrument of God. You see a bird flapping its wings and you say, “My God, how magnificent you are, look at what you’ve made!”. When you see the bird die, you feel sorry for it, but you are resolute, this is part of God’s plan.

Reality…

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by writing-against-the-tides

The Humour in Derry Girls

Is that my diary!?

Story-telling is less tedious to listen to when it is painfully humorous, especially when the story involves historically geographical problems in the region of Ireland. I don’t think I even knew much about the IRA and the problems that young Irish people faced until I watched Derry Girl’s.

Dramatic irony is taken further to personal ridicule, when Orla intently reads Erin’s diary in a raspy voice, about the inability to enjoy a normal teenage life in the small town of Derry. This invasion of privacy immediately illustrates just how ‘everyone is in everyone’s business’, and how we are irresistibly being pulled into this town and the lives dwelling in it.

Derry Girls_ 63 words and phrases you'll need this glossary for

Savage humour

The humour is apparent in the dramatically histrionic tone and attitude of Erin, that is first shown to us when she complains to her mother about the change in society towards teenagers having the liberty of ‘privacy’ now. This humour is further enhanced with the addition of Erin’s friends, the hilariously vulgar Michelle and panic-stricken Clare, against the backdrop of a devastatingly army-ridden town.

The effect of this brutal humour makes the audience wince with shock and laugh with understanding at just how family life and friends can be well… dicks, endearingly. Yet this extremely savage humour may resemble the hard times, as political violence and sectarian divide may be reflected through this aggressive humour that feels like a slap to the head.

The group of girls make fun of each other, especially the ‘wee English fella’, throughout the whole show, in a way that brings the group together, as they are brought closer by this vicious honesty but unconditional acceptance, as the fabric of their friendship stays in tact, while the nation seems to be turmoil. The centricity of the friendship allows us to see the army in the background, as if to show how the military activity is in the back of their minds; a relatable teenager attempt to try to forge your own reality when the outside world is abnormal. The pursuit of normalcy is somehow attained through the adjustment of ordinary life to be one of brutal humour, as opposed to brutal violence, almost like a coping mechanism for dealing in a difficult environment.

Masking fear with greater fret

The juxtaposition of humour and fear, illustrates a climate of tension that is coming to a boil, but the way that the show allows us to ease into understanding the climate while staying to have a laugh with the girls, is tone of shock when discussing bombs on bridges, which is contrasted by the description of everyday-normal mishaps, as if to be a travesty.

Despite being surrounded by a parade of angry Orange soldiers, Erin’s mother, Mary, only frantically has a breakdown after mistakenly believing that she lost her ‘punts’ while remaining nonchalant about being amidst an angry mob who shake the family car with hatred. This hilarious irony illustrates how Gerry, Erin’s father is the only reasonably alert one in the family, while he rest of the members have a heightened attitude of melodrama. Gerry’s responsible approach is obviously rejected, and the objection to reason also adds a comedic effect to illustrate lovingly, just how the Quinn family cope with awkward day-to-day matters and how isolated in his reality Gerry is in. Gerry is like the calm voice of reason that is flipped on its head by the disarray of quirky sardonic humour against a backdrop of horrifying political dysfunction.

Please see an interesting take on the disconnection with emotions in Derry Girls, by themindparadox.

by writing-against-the-tides

Rediscovering my passion

After counselling 

My last art project was about a very heavy and personal subject that really affected something inside me and a problem that was going on, which touched upon my own conflicted identity and family problems. It was so painful that I had to drop my favourite subject almost 3 years ago and could not touch a pen or paintbrush again. In the following years, I was spiralling deeper into depression and suicidal thoughts. Mainly, my sense of self-worth was destroyed and it was coming up to the surface, I could no longer hide the despair. At last I broke the silence about the plans I had about ending my life, I had these thoughts and some real plans earlier, and it was really difficult climbing out of that painful abyss by myself, with all the lethargy and despondency, I could not challenge the thoughts of suicide. It was hard. I became exhausted and in enormous invisible pain, that it manifested into long-term fatigue. I slept constantly and needed to lay down. Nobody at home understood what was going on but could visibly see that something was wrong. Going to counselling enormously helped me ‘look at the darkness’ inside and really just talk about it. It was hard because my mind would go blank and after counselling I felt extremely uncomfortable as I would slip into this really weird state, it felt like I was floating off my seat and really disconnecting. I would zone out and feel really light. It felt like I was leaving my body and it was a bad feeling. I knew I had to interrupt. It was too much.

After talking about the pain and what I was burying inside and some discussion about art and how I first began drawing with Dad, I started to feel better about drawing, despite it being really painful to do so before. I now use different mediums, and I think about going back to oil painting. I have been doing other creative craft things with my niece and have been engaging in digital art and even repainting my room, it is a lot. I’m excited to go back to reading and writing essays. It has been difficult. This did not click overnight. It has been a slow emergence out of sludgy muddy thick water, often a feeling of resisting being swallowed up vicious quick-sand, but it helped to have someone really encourage me to discuss things that were so dark. I am finally starting to understand myself and mainly how I feel about my role in my family, how I fear others’ rage and disappointment, out of a need to be mother’s favourite or to be agreeable and to fix the brokenness of our family – a role I cannot carry out. In relation to my identity crisis, I have really made peace with it in a very discrete way and I find safety to express myself in silent moments, in small spaces and gaps whenever I can. Facing my fear of expressing anger in a healthy way is my next step, and another goal is to actually set up relationship boundaries; I need to assess people before immersing myself into a relationship which may have a bad effect on me.

I am not digging into every secret ache that has been fossilised over all these years, as it will be really hard and disturb my already unstable mood. I don’t want anything hidden underneath the surface to erupt when I am not ready to face the vicious pain of my past feelings of unworthiness and isolation.

I am taking recovery one at a time, uncovering painful secrets gradually to make these links to see these hidden bones better.

by writing-against-the-tides

Coffee with an old friend

My mind feels really full and I feel completely drained after speaking to an old friend for 2 hours. I thought it was going to be therapeutic but it honestly made me feel physically sick. We gossiped about old friends, discussed our old lives and talked a little bit about our new life. I didn’t want to say too much, about how depressed I have been, this whole time. I did talk about some of the bad events, because she did bring them up.

It stung knowing that everyone else is doing well and finding themselves, at least being who they wanted to be, moving out and staying in touch with old friends. I mean I took the first step by reaching out to this friend and we connected well. Though I still felt like there was still a big gulf between us.

I feel really sick and I don’t know how to cope with it. It is ironic because I took this as a ‘self-care time’ by seeing my friend and I was very nervous about seeing her. I guess it was a good idea at first but then it became bad. I was dealing with a headache and I was rushing from a 2 hour lecture. Transport gives me headaches already and the journey home was cold and I felt suffocated on the bus.

I feel quite claustrophobic but really just want a hug. I want to talk to someone but I really feel full and drained from people. I don’t know why. It scares me because I think this is just how I have become. I cannot be with people for too long. Although I have been with a significant other and spent long hours with them, but it didn’t feel like hard work or felt draining. Maybe its because we talked about uncomfortable topics. Maybe its because I saw pictures of old friends and foes and really just did not want to see them. It hurts knowing that everyone is moving on and growing towards what they want, meanwhile I am struggling to get out of bed each morning. I feel sad and worthless and my beliefs have been confirmed.

I have all these achievements but its so hard to feel like I have actually achieved something. There is constant chatter in my head and I cannot stand another word. My head hurts and I feel nauseous.