Escapril: A Love Poem

What is love?
Intense, stupid, reckless.
What is love?
Unconditional, relentless, beautiful.
What is love?
Unknown, mysterious, scary.
What is love?
Tell me, please.
What is love?
I don’t know.
What is love?
Falling, crashing, surviving.
What is love?
I’ll find it.
What is love?
You’ll find it.
What is love?
Just trust me.

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Say What You Mean!

Something I struggle with a lot is people saying one thing but meaning another. I automatically assume that they mean exactly what they said, but this often isn’t the case and it’s very confusing deciding whether or not they meant what they said.

Sometimes, this makes me feel betrayed when they didn’t adhere to what they said, but it can be because they never really meant it in the first place. They were just making conversation.

For instance, someone says ‘oh we should do that sometime’ or ‘we should meet up’ but they didn’t really mean it. It’s something that a lot of people seem to say but not mean. It’s kinda suffocating trying to differentiate between a legit promise and a fake one. I just wish people would say exactly what they mean. It would make life a lot easier.

If people told me exactly what they thought of me, life would be easier too. I can differentiate between people who like me for who I am and people who want me to become something I’m not — and stick with the friends that accept me.

I just don’t understand why people always say the opposite of what they mean. It means that I get my hopes up for something that’s never going to happen. Over the years, I’ve had a lot of failed promises, but I still seem to get my hopes up because I never know when one is real.

Sometimes, promises are real, and I am so thankful for the people that say what they mean. For instance, when MyMindSpeaksAloud said that she’d love to go to a cat cafe with me, I was wondering whether we were really going to do it. Now it’s booked and ready for August! I am very excited about it, and it’s really happening, unless a cat-astrophic event happens that prevents it. I love puns.

If people just told everyone what they meant, we would all have a much easier time, in my opinion.

Do you find people confusing?

Lia

I Think

I think

that I exist,

I think

that it’s real,

I think

that we’re alive,

I think

all of that,

but what do I know?

Nothing.

Because knowledge is

never definite,

as it could all just be

an illusion;

rain, sun, snow,

the world,

the stars…

We’ll never know

whether our eyes

are actually there

or whether all of this

is a dream.

I think I can touch it

but I know I can feel it.

I think I can see it

but I know I can think it.

The Thing About Selective Mutism

I have selective mutism. No, it doesn’t mean that sometimes I choose not to talk. It means that I physically can’t talk in those moments. I want to talk but the words will not come out. In fact, there’s not much selective about it.

For me, these incidents can occur if I get a certain vibe off someone, and I don’t like them, or if I’m in social situations, particularly in large groups. I have good days and bad days. Some days I can speak freely and other days I can’t.

My mum once took me to a counsellor but my body refused to speak to her, so it was deemed useless. This was because I didn’t like her and found she had a certain tone in her voice that scared me. It’s important that people speak to me in a certain way, and if they don’t, sometimes I won’t respond.

I also usually don’t talk to people at first, until I feel comfortable with them. If you ask me a question, though, I’ll usually respond. Sometimes, it might just be a gesture though, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk. I just need to get into it.

It has actually gotten to the point where my mum talks for me most of the time because she’s worried I won’t say anything. It shocks her when I do speak up as it can be very unexpected. If I’m feeling more confident that day, I might talk more.

I find talking online a lot easier than in real life. It means I can put across thoughts that would never cross my lips. I like interacting with people, and talking to them, but I am normally not the one to start the conversation.

It’s hard not being able to talk when I want to all the time. Like the words are right on the edge of coming out, but they just don’t. My thoughts become overwhelmed with words that never came out and sometimes, I might just explode in a fury of thoughts later on to my mum. She doesn’t always like how much I talk to her, but I can’t help it! It’s what is stored up from earlier.

I can come across as rude for not talking when spoken to, but that’s out of my control. I hope this post helps people to better understand selective mutism.

Lia

What Am I Doing With My Life?

So, two people in one day asked me the same question: what am I doing with my life? One conversation went something like this:

Them: Are you going to university?

Me: No.

Them: Are you working?

Me: No.

Them: Are you breathing…?

The other conversation was just a catch-up with an old friend, whom seems to have a really cool job as a teaching assistant with tiny children. I love children, so that seems fun. We talked a lot about our pets, and then about what we’re doing at the moment.

Anyway, it made me realise that people don’t understand me that well at all. These people that I’m friends with aren’t very similar to me. There is one friend I have who is very similar to me but we don’t meet up much, and it’s pretty much just her emailing me jokes that make me laugh. She thinks they’re not funny but they’re really my types of jokes!

So, I don’t have any prospects. I’m just an eighteen-year-old living with her parents. A lot of eighteen-year-olds live with their parents still, so I’m not too abnormal yet. My brother lives with my parents too — he’s nineteen! FYI: My mum moved out of her parent’s house at nineteen. I wish my brother took after her, because I really like the quiet. Just thinking is nice. And I can’t just think because he is constantly loud. I think I’ve complained about it a few times in blog posts… I have hyper-senses due to my autism, so every little sound really disturbs me! And he doesn’t even try to be quiet sometimes. The noise can be so loud…

Sorry for getting off topic! Basically, I think I should tell everyone a little thing about me: I don’t find it easy doing most jobs, or going to university. Both things involve interaction, and I have constant anxiety over every little thing, so something like that really wouldn’t work for me. I don’t know if I’ll get a job somewhen in the future, but right now, I don’t want one. I know that it would send my anxiety levels skyrocketing and my parents are fully supportive of me in everything I do. They want me to try working on my writing, but honestly, I’ve been stuck for ideas lately. Somewhen, I might go to university, or the open university, but it isn’t this year, or next. People need to live life at their own pace.

Not everyone should feel pressured to do what everyone else their age is doing. Sure, other people my age are at university or at a job: that isn’t me. Not right now, anyway. I have autism and it limits many of my social skills. Lots of people with autism do go to work or university, but I don’t find it works for me at the moment. I’m also pretty tired a lot of the time. I don’t know why, it’s kinda undiagnosed, but it stops me from being able to just go out and do things.

Remember that you shouldn’t feel like you have to do what the world is doing. You should do your own thing, be your own person. You can go to university if you want, that’s cool, but you should do it because you want to do it, not because everyone else is doing it. You can wait a year or two to try and figure out what you want to do in life. I want to be a cat, but unfortunately I haven’t figured out how yet. Maybe, one day…

Thanks for reading,

Lia

What Dictates Us?

From a young age, our minds are programmed.

  When I was young, I was once rude about another girl (who was actually my friend) because she didn’t come into school often; this was because I had been programmed to think that good attendance would reward you, and bad attendance would not. I did not think about how it would make her feel or why she might not be in very much. I guess I was just upset about her not being in much. She didn’t mind though; she was that kind of person. But the thing is: schools reward pupils for perfect attendance, 100% — you have to be perfect, perfect, perfect, or perhaps just lucky.

It doesn’t mean you’re better than someone else if you go in every day, though schools decide that you are. There are children who are sickly, there are those who suffer emotional problems too, there are those who are grieving and perhaps need a nice trip out to distract them, but they will not get it, because only those with perfect attendance earn a treat. We think this is fine, but it is not. Without understanding why the pupils don’t go in, they are punished. That will have an impact on the way they feel about themselves, and perhaps make them feel even more isolated.

There are other things too that are programmed into us when we are young: I never once played rugby when I was at school. Although, I guess I’m grateful, I think I should have been made to, like the boys were. Many of the boys didn’t want to but they had to, and some of the girls wanted to but weren’t allowed, because it wasn’t a ‘girl’s sport’. These little things, they all change our mind, from the pure thing it was when we were born, to something very confused.

Where do we stand in the world? What is our worth? Who are we? What dictates us?

Children and young people with mental health conditions is on the rise, and it’s because of the way society breaks us. It confuses us with so many different things, one thing says this is acceptable, yet another says this — we become so overwhelmed by all of society’s rules that we can’t deal with them, and then we end up as ants, carrying several times our body weight, before eventually being crushed.

What do you think? Are our minds really our own?

Lia

Connections

I’ve been thinking about how everyone is connected. I am connected to so many people through other people and it’s kinda disturbing. It’s connections that cause rumours and gossip. My mum has had that situation going and I am tangled in the same string as her. Fully grown adults have been making her feel bad recently, and it’s all through connections. I’m worried that one day the same thing might happen to me; I might end up being caught in a net that I can’t swim out of. A net of people I used to know who remember me but don’t want to because their past is their past.

It’s interesting, isn’t it? I’ve worked out that even people closest to me can be lead down a completely different web and still end up connected to me. Everyone is, in someway, connected to me.

The most worrying but also the most fascinating thing is knowing that I am connected to people the other side of the world. If not because my mum’s best friend emigrated there, then because of some other connection. There are millions.

We are all connected.

Met Up With A Fellow Blogger!

So, after a pretty bad yesterday (where I felt really ill all day and it ended up with a lovely swollen lip and cut nose), I was really nervous about today because it was the day I was meeting with MyMindSpeaksAloud for the first time, after knowing each other for five years. I thought that maybe she’d hate me and I was really panicking over it.

After a pretty awkward start, we played Monopoly, The Game of Life, and a very… interesting version of Scrabble where you get awarded points for the inappropriateness of the word, rather than the length of the word/value of the letters. It was very interesting, indeed.

After that, we played Jenga in which we won one game each. I then showed her this app on my phone called Exploding Kittens (which basically was a card game where you have to avoid getting the exploding kitten). Finally, I got my mum’s laptop and we played some CurveFever together, which was what we normally play when we are talking to one another online.

It went a lot better than I expected and I really enjoyed her visit. I have felt really sad recently and it was such a good boost in my confidence!

Also, the surprise that she’s been hiding from me for several weeks, came in the form of a panda-covered notebook. It was awesome. I can’t believe I actually met her! 🙂

Thanks for reading this post,

Lia

Sorry

I guess I haven’t posted for a while.

I just haven’t been feeling so good, both mentally and physically. It was really hot today and I don’t like the heat because it makes me feel ill. I did have a nice day out with my mum though, but that was a temporary boost. Right now, I’m sad again. It’s just the worry, the constant worry, of not knowing what to do or whether I’m doing it right or whether I’m liked or what they want or I don’t know – just everything. It all gets on top of me.

It’s like I’m at the bottom of the ocean and I’m trying to swim up but my leg is caught in a rock and I’m running out of oxygen and then my oxygen tank just bursts and I’m gasping and I’m gasping and I drown.

I’m sorry I’m being so negative; I’m just so worried about stuff. I can’t deal with anything; I’m not ready to do anything. I can’t grow up, I’m not ready, I’m not. I’m really not ready. It’s so scary.

Sorry, hope you guys are okay. 🙂

Am I Fat?

That was a rhetorical question by the way, so don’t answer it. 😉

I’ve suffered from depression for a long time, probably since I was about eight, but it was never diagnosed until I was about twelve, when my parents found out I’d been causing harm to myself. Depression is something that doesn’t just get better with an “it’ll be fine”. When you’re told how worthless you are for a long time — at school, you believe it, and it will never go away. I was once a really confident and bubbly kid, turned into something unsure and assumptive because of what people have said, because of what I have said to myself.

Despite having some really caring friends now, I still know some people that make me feel rubbish, but I can’t do anything about it. They make me feel like everything I say or do is wrong, that it’s my fault. Maybe it is my fault, but I’ve been called wrong so many times that I don’t know the difference between right and wrong anymore. It’s like it’s been put in a blender and mixed together. I can’t understand it. Often, people say that what I consider wrong is right, and that what I consider right is wrong. Then other times, they don’t. It’s confusing.

So, this leads me to the title of my post, my depression often leaves me turning to simple comforts. Sometimes, that simple comfort is food. I might binge eat sometimes. Other times, however, I don’t eat at all because I realise how disgusting I was being. I don’t seem to have an in-between. I feel really fat, really really fat, despite the fact that I’ve been told I’m not. I just can’t stop thinking about my weight — I even got a treadmill for my birthday to try and lose weight. But I feel sad and I feel fat and I feel horrible too. I don’t feel like I have any positive characteristics. I’ve certainly been told by people that I don’t and the only time I’ve been talked about positively is to do with my skills, which is just to do with what I can do, not what I am as a person. So I don’t really know where I stand.

Am I fat? Am I horrible? Am I really worthless? Do I listen to the voices inside me telling me that I am?

I guess I’ll never know, really, as much as people tell me that I’m great blahblahblah or that I’m awful blahblahblah — both types of people could be lying, but it’s hard for me to identify the truth and the lie. Because what people believe is their truth and if that person believes I’m a bad person, then I am a bad person.

I just want some answers, proper answers, ones that shoot through my body like an electric shock. I don’t want to be confused anymore.

Thank you for reading this post,

Lia 🙂