Holiday: noun; an extended period of leisure and recreation, especially one spent away from home or in travelling. Portugal was blissful; blue skies, colourful buildings, delicious peaches, beautiful tiles, maze-like streets , agapanthus strewn borders, swaying palm trees and yellow palaces. My lovely friend Julia was a wonderful companion and i actually genuinely had a good time. I started to feel quite hopeful in fact; i stopped thinking so much about life, some dark clouds lifted and i thought that maybe i’d be okay. Then i got home, my brain switched back on and I abruptly remembered that i didn't know what to do and in fact I didn’t even know what to do about that and quite suddenly i was back on the wheel again. That's what i picture: i’m frantically running on a hamsters wheel and its going so fast i cant get off then sometimes it slows and i step onto the earth, safe in the stillness. Only it starts back up again and next thing i know im back on the wheel, running and spinning, the world a blur that i can see but i cant reach. Enough of that. There’s something about being on holiday that feels good for the soul. Long term travelling spanning over months as i usually do is honestly no holiday, it often felt much more like an endurance. But being away for a short time with the sole intent of exploring, soaking up the sun and enjoying yourself is a truly lovely thing. I appreciate that i am incredibly privileged to be able to go and i’m so so grateful for it. Really orbrigada universe. My last few days were spent in the small seaside town of Cascais, reading on the beach, wandering through the colourful alleys and watching the boats at the marina. I took lots of photos, ate sorbet and breathed in the salty sea air; being at the ocean is my very favourite place to be. The cliffs and the sand and the endless horizon make me feel rejuvenated, inspired and alive. While i wandered snapping away, the words “Journeys through a broken lens” sprung into my mind. Some context: my lens does not focus and it hasn’t for years so every photo i take i need to manually focus which means that i really have to think about what i'm doing or the photo will be blurry. Its a slow process and not great for quick snaps but it forces me to be more creative. Consequently, a lot of my travels of late have been captured through a broken lens. Our eyes are human lenses of course, they allow us to see and experience the beauty all around us, capturing it in our memories. I believe that sometimes when you are feeling very low or anxious, what you see is distorted and blurred; the beauty is there but you can’t experience it fully because you, yourself, feel a little broken. So those words can apply in both those way to me. I have too much time to think, right?! My brief experience of Portugal afforded me a little peek at the culture; laidback, colourful and friendly. I loved seeing happy people sitting out on the plazas until late in the evening, enjoying good food and company. A lot of positives came from my week away and im happy i went; i also acquired a tan and some vitamin D which im going to need! Scottish summer is a different breed entirely. Back to reality: I wish i felt better, i wish i woke up each day excited to be alive and full of passion and ideas and positivity. So many people are able to pull themselves out of the darkness with creativity but not me. I feel frustrated and lost and hopeless and guilty and ashamed. Often all at once. Its not an inspiring environment for ideas. I spend my days trying to escape myself and the suffocating anxiety and brooding depression that threatens and follows me. It never really leaves. I dont want to take ownership of those issues, speaking about "my anxiety" or "my depression" gives them a presence and a place in my life that they are not welcome to. So i will continue to try my best, to get up every day (like we all have to), even when I dont really feel like I can and just get on with it. Its forced though, like i'm tolerating the day but not appreciating it, so its muted and watered down and that is a waste of the life i was given. I don't just want to exist, I want to achieve things, be someone and make a difference somehow. I never wanted to settle but here i am, a shadow lurking in the corners of my own life, unable to brave the light. One day?
It’s so hard to believe that though, I've been my own enemy for a long time. Honestly i’d just like to be able to sit and read a book in peace or do some yoga without feeling agitated, panicked and unable to focus. Please and thank you. I did manage when i was on holiday but at home, the panic of WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY BLOODY LIFE sets in and relaxation is a futile hope. Anyway (my mind says), why should i relax, when there are things to be done? I’ve been in this cycle for years and i still have no answer to my own questions and i'm no closer to figuring them out. I look too hard, expect too much and frankly, care far too much as well. I dont know how to be any other way. Im the human embodiment of anxiety, an endless enigma and a bloody pain in my own ass. And im really really sorry for being like this. Great Jenna, just great. BUT i am so grateful for my mum and dad, my sisters, my home and the privileged life i was given. Truly i am so thankful, i just wish i could give back to the world and earn all the gifts that have been bestowed upon me. I want to so badly. Stay well friends, keep your eyes open and your mind strong. May creativity adorn you like jewels. If not now then soon.
0 Comments
|
LittlebirdJenna. Free spirit, flower enthusiast, seeker of truths. Archives
December 2021
Categories
All
|