Moments Hurt

Screen Shot 2018-01-14 at 19.13.31Nayyirah Waheed (Author)

“She has missed so many moments but I feel that those moments would not have happened if she had not been up there.”
– Sandra Bullock

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New Year

I am sad a lot. I get asked if I am okay, several times a day. Each time my response is the same, “Yeah, just tired.”

There is no one thing, there is nothing. No main reason for such sadness, it just is.

This year – 2018 – will be the year that I write down one positive thing each day. So that by the end of the year I can look back at all the wonderful things that have happened to me and feel grateful for them.

This year I will try to be my best self, even on the worst days.

Inspiration is Everywhere

pink-amas-live-2012-billboard-1548( https://www.billboard.com/articles/events/amas/8039126/pink-amas-performance-2012-try-best-list )

40th+American+Music+Awards+Show+Rr-qwxm2oJWx( http://www.zimbio.com/photos/Pink/40th+American+Music+Awards+Show/Rr-qwxm2oJw )

Swan-Lake-3D-3( http://yewon.myblog.arts.ac.uk/2014/01/27/matthew-bournes-swan-lake/ )

sl1( https://www.broadwayworld.com/article/Bournes-SWAN-LAKE-Returns-to-New-York-NY-City-Center-Oct-13-Nov-17-20100831-page8 )

stillife_1-1500x1000( https://iso.500px.com/tag/still-life/page/2/ )

stock-photo-147757941(https://iso.500px.com/top-20-black-and-white-photos-on-500px-so-far-this-year/ )

shutterstock_329614487( http://zenfulspirit.com/2017/05/17/the-science-of-forgiveness/ )

thomas-dekker-zelda-williams-love-is-loud-22( http://www.justjared.com/photo-gallery/2487449/thomas-dekker-zelda-williams-love-is-loud-14/ )

 

As always – credit where credit is due. None of these images belong to me.
Be respectful of other’s art and reference them.
xoxo. 

 

 

TRIGGER WARNING

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9 years and not a scratch. It never goes away – the thought. It follows me everywhere. Perhaps not every day, but on the bad days. On the days where I don’t wish to speak or communicate, I reach for the blade. Holding it in my palm, I feel the scratch upon my skin. Never again. Do NOT. Holding it helps, feeling the blade without any actual harm. My brain is fighting against itself.

Do it.

No. Do not.

For 9 years, I have managed. I have found strength I did not know I had.

One day at a time.

If You Could See Me Now

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“I’m trying to make you proud
Do everything you did
I hope you’re up there with God saying “That’s my kid!”

I still look for your face in the crowd
Oh if you could see me now
Would you stand in disgrace or take a bow

If you could see me now would you recognize me?
Would you pat me on the back or would you criticize me?
Would you follow every line on my tear-stained face
Put your hand on a heart that was as cold
As the day you were taken away?”

This song has been in my head – my life – for a couple of weeks. My soul screaming at me to somehow acknowledge and reference it, to get it out on page in some way. To send it out into the void that this song is now yours. Today, I was walking and I saw this hat – so similar to the one you owned – and I had to take a photograph of it.
I now have the perfect image to go along with this song that I so badly need to reference.

( https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/script/ifyoucouldseemenow.html )
The Script – If You Could See Me Now.
Image used: Original image take by ‘Just Me’.

Stigmata (1999)

71j9rb8tkrlThe first time I watched this film was in 2004, I was 13 years old. As a child, horror films never bothered me. I wasn’t often scared or afraid when it came to even the worst of horror films.

I then re-watched Stigmata as an adult and found myself feeling extremely on edge. Unsure and afraid that something like this might be a possibility.

I was a fan of Patricia Arquette before I even knew who she was. This film was my introduction to her and I was immediately taken by her.

As someone who has flittered in and out of religion, I found it fascinating. As an adult, I had access to the internet and found myself using Google to find out if this ‘Stigmata’ was an actual thing that people may have experienced before.

Is it real? Is it psychosis? Is it hoax? It then brought about the questions regarding whether the stigmata should appear on the palms or through the wrists…

I think out of all the scary parts of this film, the part that terrified me the most was the unknown. Putting myself in her shoes and not knowing what is happening to me or how to control or stop it… horrifying.

Today as I watch it, I don’t feel scared. I watch it and I don’t believe it to be the greatest film ever made but it is worth re-watching. The history behind Stigmata still interests me, the history behind religion itself has always interested me.

I believe in what I see, I believe in science. I also believe in God, I have an immense amount of faith.

I am a contradiction.

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In 2012, I was one of your students. I spent 2 months sitting in the back of your classroom, shyly taking in every word. I slowly became in awe and appreciative of your work ethic. When another student touched me inappropriately I had no idea how to react and was worried that I had somehow encouraged him. It wasn’t something that I was wanting to acknowledge or to confide in any one that it had happened. Then one day you asked me how I was and even when I said I was ‘okay’, you still enquired again. I was a very shy, sheltered young woman who was not used to being in such an environment as college. The experience was an overwhelming one, it lead me to leave my media course, the friends I had made and the choice to carry on regardless. I ran away.

Since then, I have come a long way. I tried to get a job, it didn’t go well but I persevered. I enrolled into college to take my GCSE’s and did a BTEC, that did go well and I walked away proud. I spent a year hopping from work experience, to volunteering, to traineeships and had many different valuable experiences. You have always flittered in and out of my thoughts and I wonder if you would recognise me now.

Your positive, honest attitude and brilliant work ethic is something that I have been silently trying to aim for within myself. You appeared to be such an independent strong woman – it seemed to be the perfect aspiration.

It can be amazing, to think of the people who stay with you, who make a large impression upon you. The people who are most likely unaware that they have made such an impression.

If my memory serves me correctly, you teach English. I wonder what your opinion would be on the things that I have penned. I wonder if I shall have the courage to send this to you or if I shall just post it into the void that is the internet.

Whichever happens, I hope this brings a smile to your face. To know that you do have a positive impact on your students and that they go on to carry it with them long after they leave your classroom.

Kind regards,

 

War

It is important to avoid triggers. To not actively seek them out. Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, bipolar, an eating disorder… each carries its own triggers.

What if you are the trigger?

What if your brain knows just what images to conjure up to set your world spinning on a dizzying uncontrollable excursion…?

What if your brain yells at you all of the things that scare you? All your insecurities that only you know you struggle with.

All the negative comments and statements you don’t need to hear get screamed at you as your brain declares war against all practical thought…

I am in the middle of a war between the practical and the irrational.

With nothing to do but fight. I have no armour. I will win, no matter the scars I may accumulate. My soul speaks louder than everything else.

 

Childlike dreams

A childlike dream of what career you want to have when you grow up. 

I have often thought of what it would be like to be a journalist. To travel and meet all kinds of different unique people. I would love to have the kind of creative and active mind that asks all of the questions that never get asked. Questions on every day small, seemingly insignificant things. The small things that make a difference in people’s lives, the people that make a difference. 

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I don’t think it was a good idea, but maybe it was. I was meant to be taking photographs – “our official church photographer.” I did indeed get the job done, but mostly I sat there in awe. The service was beautiful and it was a ceremony I had not borne witness to before. In the moments of silence; silence that I usually draw strength and peace from – I struggled.
On this day, instead of finding peace, I found panic. I flashed back to my Grandfather’s coffin, to the flowers and the despair.
On this day, I felt depressive. My friend is dying and for all the prayers that I could send her way, I don’t imagine the outcome will differ.

I don’t think it was a good idea, but maybe it was. I struggled but I remained calm. I got through all the negative thoughts and connotations and did what I had set out to do. I spoke with my community and socialised with my peers. I did all of this by myself, for myself. I am proud of the small achievements, of staying in a situation, of speaking with individuals that I do not know well and of trusting myself in those desperate moments of panic.