Welcome to my night time, coffee-fuelled shit talking post. I haven’t done one of these in a while, but if you’re new to my blog, know that these are probably the most honest and raw posts I’ll ever write. That’s why they’re rare. Sometimes it’s in the form of poetry, other times, like now, it’s just word vomit. I don’t edit these. It’s the time where I’m wired but also tired, and when I’m listening to my night time songs.
One weird thing I’ve been called is ‘strong’. Strong because I can let things go, strong because I can stand by my beliefs, strong because I don’t fall for every guy that talks to me. I don’t know. I don’t know if I like being called strong, because there are certain expectations that come with that label. Am I allowed to cry? Am I allowed to fight for a guy who doesn’t give a shit? Am I allowed to have panic attacks? Am I allowed to be too nervous to walk into a crowded place sometimes?
Because I do all of those things too. And sometimes, that label gets in the way.
I deal with my problems with sarcasm and self depreciating humour. It’s who I am. And yes, people think it’s funny and I’m glad they do. It’s nice to know someone who makes you laugh, but it’s even better to make other people laugh. To make them crack a smile, even. Sometimes, the only way to help your own problems is to forget about them by helping other people with theirs.
Unhealthy, you might say, but don’t knock my coping mechanisms.
We all go through shitty times and we all have different tolerances to those shitty times. I don’t know if it’s right to call people strong; who decides what ‘strong’ is? Maybe you’re going through a really bad breakup, or maybe you’re having some family issues. Maybe you feel useless because you’re watching someone struggle and there’s nothing you can do to help them.
Some people complain about bloggers; about sharing personal things on the internet. But that’s what helps other people. The internet allows a connection that we sometimes can’t find anywhere else. I recently received a message on instagram from a woman who thought I seemed sad and wanted to reach out – when I tell you there were tears, you’d better believe it. Maybe she saw through my self depreciating humour, I don’t know. We only exchanged a few words in one conversation, but I’m never going to forget about her. I’m not trying to say there’s a double meaning to all my jokes; 90% of the time it really is just me and my weird sense of humour. Sometimes I sort people out into two categories; people who share my humour, and people who don’t. We’ll never fully connect if you don’t.
Some people will wonder why introverts talk so much on a blog, or on social media. I don’t speak to people, but I’m active online because it’s my outlet. I myself complain about the abundance of lifestyle and beauty and fashion blogs out there, but later on I realise that it might be an outlet for those people. We all have shit to deal with, we deal with it in different ways. You could be upset about how the person you wanna speak to is giving you dead replies, but then there’s another person who’s trying to learn every little thing about you. And you’re ignoring them for that other prick.
Find your outlet and make sure you’re fully in touch with yourself. Know what you want in life, know what your true, real, unadulterated beliefs are. Some people are pressed on the idea of success. Being successful is great, obviously. You have a good job, you’ve moved into a new place. Maybe you’re getting married, maybe you’re expecting. But don’t let society’s idea of success influence your own. None of those mentioned things will make me feel fulfilled like being genuinely happy with the person I am will. Social media tends to fuck everything up for people. I have friends talking about how people we went to school with are getting married and having kids – I don’t care. I don’t think getting married is a marker of success. I hear about their happiness, and I’m happy for them, but honestly, right now at midnight when I’m most in sync with myself, I don’t care.
Find your outlet. It might be a blog, it might be social media. It might be music, it might be video games. It might be drugs. It might be having someone to speak to every night. Having a connection with someone is so important to me; that’s why I don’t have that with everyone. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been called intimidating. Unapproachable. Etcetera. So when someone tries to connect, like truly, I appreciate it.
I always keep my distance, but I never forget when anybody leaves a positive mark in my life, no matter how tiny it is.