In the past few months I've received a lot of abuse from a lot of 'brave' people (or maybe just one) via anonymous formspring questions over things that I've done and, as much as the things I've done are bad (which I am aware of), do I really deserve the abuse that I'm getting for them?
In life we're always told to avoid doing bad things, they give you a bad name and can spoil things for you in the future and that makes sense. It's logical and it plays things safe. I feel myself, yet, drawn to another message that society sends out: No-one's perfect. Everyone makes mistakes in life, some bigger than others and some that are more long-reaching than others, but just because people do bad things, does that make them a bad person? Not necessarily, in my eyes.
The title of this blog refers to a Lady Gaga song (from her new album Born This Way, if you're interested, buy it as soon as you can [/advertising]) that deals with the message that I'm talking about. Throughout the song, the lyrics tell of various things people have done (fans, specifically, this song was inspired by them and their experiences) that make them 'Bad Kids': 'My parents tried until they got divorced 'cause I ruined their lives', 'I chew gum and smoke in your face, I'm absurd' and 'I'm a selfish punk who really should be smacked' among other things are what make up a 'Bad Kid' in this context, but then the chorus preaches a message to these bad kids, one that's almost synonymous with my own:
'Don't feel insecure if you're heart is pure, you're still good to me if you're a bad kid'.
I came to interpret that as:
'You shouldn't feel ashamed or that you're a terrible person for the bad things that you've done. If you know you've done wrong, if you truly felt bad for doing it then that means you're not a bad person and you'll always be a good person to me, despite the fact you've done things that aren't right.'
To be honest, I wish that were a sentiment that more people carried, it's one that I try to carry with me whenever I can because I can sympathise with it. I only hope that the people that are, hypocritically perhaps, sending me abuse for doing bad things also see things in this way very soon because the abuse is becoming very tiresome to go through.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Sunday, 24 July 2011
Jeremy
I miss you, I can't help it, even if we are mad at each other and probably won't talk for a good while. I never thought that things would turn out this way, not for one bit... I wasn't under the genuine impression that we'd last forever, no, I 'hoped' that we'd last for a long time, but young relationships rarely flourish into something long term. Putting the actual breakup aside, though, I still never thought it would get to the point where I couldn't physically bring myself to talk to you. What you said to me hurt, it really did, and I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I had to say it... if for not for myself and so I could get closure to everything, then for you, so that you know for future relationships.
Tonight, I thought, I had honest people that spoke to me and I had time. Your cuddles, your kisses, the cute smile you make but never show in pictures, the 'retard pacman' you made me be because you thought it was cute... our relationship wasn't all bad, I know it wasn't, and we had a lot of good times and good memories. The first time you stayed over at mine- I fell back into you and I was just laid there looking at you before I said 'I still like you'-, when you announced that we were together at that party- 'I'm going out with Aiden and I love him'- we did have good times and there were times when I was happy, I can't, won't and haven't denied that because I know it's true.
At the same time, though, it wasn't all good. I think I was more unhappy than I should've been, admittedly at times by my own doing. Times when you wouldn't reply to my messages or leave it until just after I got annoyed with you- it seemed to happen too often to be coincidence-, the bare minimum you'd do- not reciprocating feelings unless I asked why you didn't, not doing certain things until I pointed out that you didn't do them...and then, after that, you'd go back to not doing them- and a few other things. Whether you consciously realised it or not, you didn't treat me as I should've been treated and I tried to make you see that nicely while we were dating because, honestly, if I could have everything I wanted then I'd still want to be dating you and for both of us to be happy.
You say you warned me that you were bad in relationships, something I don't recall but I'll take your word for it... it doesn't mean that you shouldn't say 'sorry' for it and, really, that's the one thing I wanted when I even brought the subject up the other day: I just wanted a genuine apology from you.
I cared for you so much, Jeremy.
I cooked, cleaned, tidied, defended, groomed (not in a paedophilic way), cared, treated, cuddled, kissed and put my absolute everything into our relationship because I felt that strongly about it. After a lot of difficult and emotionally conflicted thinking, I reluctantly came to the choice of staying with you and decided that I shouldn't... not because I didn't care for you, because I still do, but because I didn't think you treated me right. There was a reason why I didn't just break up with you that morning, there was a reason I woke you up, cuddled and kissed you to death and then asked you to sit up: I cared. I knew, or thought, that I'd hurt you, and I didn't like that, and I still don't... but I couldn't help it.
And now it's come to this. I want to be friends but I don't want you to think that things were perfect between us, I want you to know what it was really like for me because there's a lot that I hid from you. I want you to know because you deserve to know the truth, because I should be able to tell you the truth, so it can help you with future relationships, so it could make any possibly friendship we had that much stronger for working through it... not a single part of me thought that it would blow over without a single harsh word exchanged but, at the same time, not a single part of me would think it would lead to what it did.
Blocked, rants, those messages, what happened at the Chinese, how I feel, I didn't want any of that when I opened up to you.
I still miss your arms around me and when you'd kiss my nose... I miss you, Jeremy.
Tonight, I thought, I had honest people that spoke to me and I had time. Your cuddles, your kisses, the cute smile you make but never show in pictures, the 'retard pacman' you made me be because you thought it was cute... our relationship wasn't all bad, I know it wasn't, and we had a lot of good times and good memories. The first time you stayed over at mine- I fell back into you and I was just laid there looking at you before I said 'I still like you'-, when you announced that we were together at that party- 'I'm going out with Aiden and I love him'- we did have good times and there were times when I was happy, I can't, won't and haven't denied that because I know it's true.
At the same time, though, it wasn't all good. I think I was more unhappy than I should've been, admittedly at times by my own doing. Times when you wouldn't reply to my messages or leave it until just after I got annoyed with you- it seemed to happen too often to be coincidence-, the bare minimum you'd do- not reciprocating feelings unless I asked why you didn't, not doing certain things until I pointed out that you didn't do them...and then, after that, you'd go back to not doing them- and a few other things. Whether you consciously realised it or not, you didn't treat me as I should've been treated and I tried to make you see that nicely while we were dating because, honestly, if I could have everything I wanted then I'd still want to be dating you and for both of us to be happy.
You say you warned me that you were bad in relationships, something I don't recall but I'll take your word for it... it doesn't mean that you shouldn't say 'sorry' for it and, really, that's the one thing I wanted when I even brought the subject up the other day: I just wanted a genuine apology from you.
I cared for you so much, Jeremy.
I cooked, cleaned, tidied, defended, groomed (not in a paedophilic way), cared, treated, cuddled, kissed and put my absolute everything into our relationship because I felt that strongly about it. After a lot of difficult and emotionally conflicted thinking, I reluctantly came to the choice of staying with you and decided that I shouldn't... not because I didn't care for you, because I still do, but because I didn't think you treated me right. There was a reason why I didn't just break up with you that morning, there was a reason I woke you up, cuddled and kissed you to death and then asked you to sit up: I cared. I knew, or thought, that I'd hurt you, and I didn't like that, and I still don't... but I couldn't help it.
And now it's come to this. I want to be friends but I don't want you to think that things were perfect between us, I want you to know what it was really like for me because there's a lot that I hid from you. I want you to know because you deserve to know the truth, because I should be able to tell you the truth, so it can help you with future relationships, so it could make any possibly friendship we had that much stronger for working through it... not a single part of me thought that it would blow over without a single harsh word exchanged but, at the same time, not a single part of me would think it would lead to what it did.
Blocked, rants, those messages, what happened at the Chinese, how I feel, I didn't want any of that when I opened up to you.
I still miss your arms around me and when you'd kiss my nose... I miss you, Jeremy.
Saturday, 16 July 2011
Born This Way Review [Working Title Article]
I originally wrote this article to be published in my college's new magazine, Working Title, but the Editor felt that a paragraph (change to italic writing in this post, in case anyone's interested) could be cut out to make it shorter. This review was written about a month ago now but I've decided to post it on here (with a picture of my article's mock-up!) so that people can read the full thing, even though the amount taken out wasn't extensive.
The latest album from the meat-wearing powerhouse of pop, Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way’ was released on the 23rd of May worldwide and, needless to say (especially for those who know me) I made sure I bought it the very day it came out and, honestly, I was very far from disappointed.
The latest album from the meat-wearing powerhouse of pop, Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way’ was released on the 23rd of May worldwide and, needless to say (especially for those who know me) I made sure I bought it the very day it came out and, honestly, I was very far from disappointed.
Starting with t
The first thing I noted about the album, overall, after listening to it was that Gaga’s vocals are- for the most part- more natural, raw and untouched than her previous albums, something that makes the songs feel a lot more powerful and dramatic. Something else about the album that I noticed was that, unlike her previous work where the songs could be easily classified into ‘ballads’, ‘pop’, ‘dance’, ‘acoustic’ etc., the songs on Born This Way have very mixed genres. Distinct elements of rock (quite a lot, actually) are present alongside dance beats, classical instruments, jazz solos, mariachi bands, electro-pop themes; the entire album is this conglomeration of many different genres that, on paper, shouldn’t really work together at all…and yet, somehow, they all fit together and compliment each other extremely well on Born This Way.
The opening song, Marry The Night, makes a good introduction to the entire album. It starts off with a slow build up of dance layers with simple vocals before suddenly breaking out into a huge chorus, complete with traditional Gaga hooks and subtle guitar parts mixed in with heavy bass beats. Most of the songs on Born This Way carry out in the same format in that there’s a gradual build up to a spectacular chorus with the ‘sledge-hammering beats’ that the Lady herself promised there would be. The songs themselves all have different themes to them as well ranging from Religion (always controversial but- not forgetting- a big part of any part-Italian Catholic’s life) which is a theme in songs like Born This Way, Judas and Bloody Mary, to Identity (Bad Kids, Hair, Born This Way) and Equality (Americano and Scheiße).
The whole album is a lot darker and different than anything that Gaga has released previously, I felt, and the songs themselves are hugely symbolic and interpretive of, not just the world around us right now, but this idea that throughout life you can be reborn and constantly change until you’re comfortable with yourself. A great listen and fantastic food for thought, Born This Way is an album I’d recommend to anyone without a doubt, its hybrid genres and infectious lyrics make its audience practically universal and at a very affordable price. Don’t just take my word for it, though, experience the ‘cultural baptism’ that’s taken over the world for yourself, I can assure you that you won’t be disappointed.
Saturday, 21 May 2011
Anger
One of the seven deadly sins (more commonly known as 'Wrath'), Anger's something that no-one can escape in their lives no matter how tranquil and serene they claim to be. Anger, by my definition, is the body's overflow system for all the multiple factors in our lives that cause us negativity that we can't do anything about; stress; annoyance; despair; depression; all the emotions that get us down. All of them leave behind remnants in our minds that are distilled, purified and collected in a psychological bottle that, eventually, overflows. When this overflow occurs, this is shown as an outward reaction of anger towards something or someone.
Everyone has different sized bottles though (no innuendo intended) and, consequently, everyone's overflow point is different and, as every person is an individual in their own right, the resultant angry reaction is also different. On one extreme, it can take something very minor for one person to then have a violent outburst towards a person, but on the opposing end of the scale it could take decades of anger for one person to result in but a minor rant. Everybody's different.
My own personal view is that it's completely natural and even healthy to get rid of this anger overflow because, if you don't, it can put your body under unnecessary stress and have a lot of long and short term effects (long term being premature hair loss, short term being illness in some cases). Ever one to contradict my own advice though, I find myself getting ever closer towards (if not already past) my overflow point but annoyingly unable to express my anger in a satisfying way. What's annoying me is multifactorial and, also, rather personal, and I'm hoping that in time I can resolve what's annoying me...though that doesn't do anything to vent my anger out.
I've never been a properly violent person. Of course, among friends, you have a level of jokey violence and I'm rather fond of my sadistic humour but that's just it; it's not serious violence in the slightest. What I think I'd love to do most is to just have a huge, angry rant and finally get some answers to what's bothering me, though I'd be slightly scared of doing that at the risk of taking things too far and pushing people away from me- something I really don't want to do, especially as the result of anger.
In many ways, anger is a bad thing but I think people forget that it's also a good thing to have in life. Like it or not, it's a part of the human spectrum of emotions that we're all capable of and eventually feel and it can give people a lot of peace to vent their anger out in a good way, it can be satisfying and actually give people some peace. Conversely, it can also bring about physical violence and it's never a nice thing to feel, it makes people impulsive and distorts the thought process, but the good inevitable comes with the bad in life. It's how you choose to view things and how you act with them that matters most.
I'd like to think that I can handle my anger in a good way, a safe way but, realistically, I just think I'm someone that bottles it up far too much and doesn't properly vent it out at all. Maybe one day it'll come back to bite me, maybe one day I'll just snap and all this build up rage will rain down on someone that really doesn't deserve it (in which instance, I apologise profusely in advance to this person). Hopefully I'll find a good way to get rid of the deadly sin inside of me (that sounds a little too religious for my liking, but I didn't want to just write out 'anger' again) but I don't think I'll be keeping everything inside for too long, it's getting to be a rather big pain, I mean this in both in the annoyance sense and the hurtful sense. As silly as it sounds, it hurts to be as angry as I sometimes feel, I want to just cry; I find crying to be this immensely wonderful emotional drain, you harbour no (or I harbour no) negative feelings after crying, then there's this interim time of neutrality before you go back to feeling relatively happy again...but I just can't cry. After some personal events, I seem to lack the ability to cry unless death's present...and I really wouldn't want someone to die just so I can shed tears.
So it seems I'll have to ponder and think, experiment and find my own way to get rid of the overflow in my life, I just hope it happens sooner rather than later.
Everyone has different sized bottles though (no innuendo intended) and, consequently, everyone's overflow point is different and, as every person is an individual in their own right, the resultant angry reaction is also different. On one extreme, it can take something very minor for one person to then have a violent outburst towards a person, but on the opposing end of the scale it could take decades of anger for one person to result in but a minor rant. Everybody's different.
My own personal view is that it's completely natural and even healthy to get rid of this anger overflow because, if you don't, it can put your body under unnecessary stress and have a lot of long and short term effects (long term being premature hair loss, short term being illness in some cases). Ever one to contradict my own advice though, I find myself getting ever closer towards (if not already past) my overflow point but annoyingly unable to express my anger in a satisfying way. What's annoying me is multifactorial and, also, rather personal, and I'm hoping that in time I can resolve what's annoying me...though that doesn't do anything to vent my anger out.
I've never been a properly violent person. Of course, among friends, you have a level of jokey violence and I'm rather fond of my sadistic humour but that's just it; it's not serious violence in the slightest. What I think I'd love to do most is to just have a huge, angry rant and finally get some answers to what's bothering me, though I'd be slightly scared of doing that at the risk of taking things too far and pushing people away from me- something I really don't want to do, especially as the result of anger.
In many ways, anger is a bad thing but I think people forget that it's also a good thing to have in life. Like it or not, it's a part of the human spectrum of emotions that we're all capable of and eventually feel and it can give people a lot of peace to vent their anger out in a good way, it can be satisfying and actually give people some peace. Conversely, it can also bring about physical violence and it's never a nice thing to feel, it makes people impulsive and distorts the thought process, but the good inevitable comes with the bad in life. It's how you choose to view things and how you act with them that matters most.
I'd like to think that I can handle my anger in a good way, a safe way but, realistically, I just think I'm someone that bottles it up far too much and doesn't properly vent it out at all. Maybe one day it'll come back to bite me, maybe one day I'll just snap and all this build up rage will rain down on someone that really doesn't deserve it (in which instance, I apologise profusely in advance to this person). Hopefully I'll find a good way to get rid of the deadly sin inside of me (that sounds a little too religious for my liking, but I didn't want to just write out 'anger' again) but I don't think I'll be keeping everything inside for too long, it's getting to be a rather big pain, I mean this in both in the annoyance sense and the hurtful sense. As silly as it sounds, it hurts to be as angry as I sometimes feel, I want to just cry; I find crying to be this immensely wonderful emotional drain, you harbour no (or I harbour no) negative feelings after crying, then there's this interim time of neutrality before you go back to feeling relatively happy again...but I just can't cry. After some personal events, I seem to lack the ability to cry unless death's present...and I really wouldn't want someone to die just so I can shed tears.
So it seems I'll have to ponder and think, experiment and find my own way to get rid of the overflow in my life, I just hope it happens sooner rather than later.
Thursday, 12 May 2011
The Beach
Breathe in...and out...in...and out...
The mantra in my head played out in time to the waves that diffused out along the beach. Consistently and unwaivering, they rolled along the beach until there was nothing more of them to roll out, throwing a cluster of foamy bubbles along the sand in an attempt to hold their place before being dragged back- once more- to the deeper depths to where they came from. The sound of waves against the beach is an usual, yet fascinating, sound for me. You hear the sound of one wave hitting the shore-the satisfying audial mix between a 'woosh' and a 'crash' as the waves make impact- but you hear this one wave hit the shore at every single point on the shore. It attacks from the left, right, front, other end of the beach, any and all directions but each one sounds different and they all harmonise together to make this short symphony that always comes back for an encore.
Nothing else can be heard aside from the waves, the beach is earily quiet as I sit on the sand, my knees pulled close to my chest. Beneath my feet I can feel the sand; its miniscule, grainy existence working alongside others of its kind to support me upon it. It's the only thing that keeps me in place at the minute but the only thing keeping it in place is itself.
I hate the sand when I'm trying to relax. The grains get everywere and anywhere, no matter what you do or how careful you are. It's nice otherwise, though. Fortunately for my feet, it gains heat easily, so I can never be that cold if I'm sat on a natural radiator. I can never be too warm, either...the sea always brings in a cool breeze towards me, caressing my arms and neck gently, tussling my hair around playfully, making it feel like I'm both alone and yet with company- company I don't have to return pleasantries with but can just co-exist with. Company that smells. Salty and yet fresh- nothing like the air freshners- with a kind of pureness that only something foreign to all human contact can have, it feels slightly cleansing as I breathe it in and out.
I don't even know why I'm here. The beach is usually a place I go when I'm stressed, a place to calm down and let the things that have been building up in me dissipate and go away- I'd never let them out for fear of hurting people. This time, though, I don't know why I'm stressed or if I even am stressed...I just feel like I need to be here. Things in my life lately just seem to be builing up just to die back down again, only then to build back up. In that respect, maybe my life is like the waves on the sea... I think I'll just stay here until I can face things back home again...
Breathe in... and out...in...and out...
The mantra in my head played out in time to the waves that diffused out along the beach. Consistently and unwaivering, they rolled along the beach until there was nothing more of them to roll out, throwing a cluster of foamy bubbles along the sand in an attempt to hold their place before being dragged back- once more- to the deeper depths to where they came from. The sound of waves against the beach is an usual, yet fascinating, sound for me. You hear the sound of one wave hitting the shore-the satisfying audial mix between a 'woosh' and a 'crash' as the waves make impact- but you hear this one wave hit the shore at every single point on the shore. It attacks from the left, right, front, other end of the beach, any and all directions but each one sounds different and they all harmonise together to make this short symphony that always comes back for an encore.
Nothing else can be heard aside from the waves, the beach is earily quiet as I sit on the sand, my knees pulled close to my chest. Beneath my feet I can feel the sand; its miniscule, grainy existence working alongside others of its kind to support me upon it. It's the only thing that keeps me in place at the minute but the only thing keeping it in place is itself.
I hate the sand when I'm trying to relax. The grains get everywere and anywhere, no matter what you do or how careful you are. It's nice otherwise, though. Fortunately for my feet, it gains heat easily, so I can never be that cold if I'm sat on a natural radiator. I can never be too warm, either...the sea always brings in a cool breeze towards me, caressing my arms and neck gently, tussling my hair around playfully, making it feel like I'm both alone and yet with company- company I don't have to return pleasantries with but can just co-exist with. Company that smells. Salty and yet fresh- nothing like the air freshners- with a kind of pureness that only something foreign to all human contact can have, it feels slightly cleansing as I breathe it in and out.
I don't even know why I'm here. The beach is usually a place I go when I'm stressed, a place to calm down and let the things that have been building up in me dissipate and go away- I'd never let them out for fear of hurting people. This time, though, I don't know why I'm stressed or if I even am stressed...I just feel like I need to be here. Things in my life lately just seem to be builing up just to die back down again, only then to build back up. In that respect, maybe my life is like the waves on the sea... I think I'll just stay here until I can face things back home again...
Breathe in... and out...in...and out...
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Stories
Recently I heard a song entitled 'The Story' on Grey's Anatomy (YouTube it if you like, I highly recommend it, especially when sung by Sara Ramirez) and the lyrics really struck a chord (excuse the musical pun) with me from just a few lines:
'All of these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am. So many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am' and, later on:
'You see the smile that's on my mouth, it's hiding the worlds that don't come out,and all of our friends who think that I'm blessed, they don't know my head is a mess.'
If not just for the wonderful way that they were sung, those lyrics really resonated with me and I began to think about their meaning for me.
The first line that I quoted reminded me of a time when I felt very self conscious, more so than I do now. I can recall constantly feeling exposed and hating myself, looking in the mirror and wanting anything but what I saw staring back at me and I can remember my heart pounding, both out of fear and nerves, when I looked at myself one day and saw that on my sides I had purple lines; purple lines that had gotten drastically bigger since I'd last looked. I'd seen them on my sister when she was pregnant, I knew that they were stretch marks and, for me, it was the defining point in my life where I went into overdrive with losing weight. Through overly restrictive eating plans, exhausting exercise programmes and whatever weight-loss tricks I could research, out of pure fear not to look at those marks again I worked myself to insane extents (I'd have one small meal a day, exercise non-stop for 5 hours and do an hour in the morning before school) to the point where I did have the kind of body that I'd dreamt of having for so long.
One day I was out with my Mum and she bought me a jacket, one that was meant to be tight fitting and when I wore it for the first time I felt nervous of what people might say to me- it was certainly different to anything else I'd worn before- but all I got were surprised reactions of people that were, literally, amazed at the weight I'd lost. Inside, though, I still felt like that scared person that needed to lose weight, so that's what I kept on doing. My parents and my form tutor (separate occasions) had both sat me down and said they thought I had a problem, though I didn't believe I did. From my point of view, I was perfectly justified to lose weight given how I thought I looked. Eventually, I stopped pushing myself to lose weight like I was doing, though, when I look back I still don't properly recall what it was that made me or helped me to stop. Lately, I'm not sure if it's a problem that's completely gone but, when I heard that line in The Story it made me think for a while about this whole thing.
The 'lines across my face' are the stretch marks on my body and, as I've shown above, just those marks alone 'tell you the story of who I am [...] and how I got to where I am' and, for me, it's a very personal story that made me relate to the second quoted set of lyrics I posted. Despite the happiness that people saw in me, the smile that I had when they complimented me on how much weight I'd lost, in my head I was always thinking that I could be better, I should be better, that what I was right now was still wrong. For a very long time, no-one knew how I felt or how strong my desire to change myself was, though I'm just glad in the end that some people did notice and said something to me...I may have been less than gracious at the time about it, but the help of people around you is something that I've come to appreciate greatly in life because not everyone gives it, unfortunately.
The lines on my body, although are now clear and no longer purple, will always be there as a reminder to me; a reminder of what I can do to myself (both with weight gain and loss), the emotional things I went through, the events that happened but, most importantly, they're a part of me that tells a story... one story of the many that I'll come to have in my life.
'All of these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am. So many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am' and, later on:
'You see the smile that's on my mouth, it's hiding the worlds that don't come out,and all of our friends who think that I'm blessed, they don't know my head is a mess.'
If not just for the wonderful way that they were sung, those lyrics really resonated with me and I began to think about their meaning for me.
The first line that I quoted reminded me of a time when I felt very self conscious, more so than I do now. I can recall constantly feeling exposed and hating myself, looking in the mirror and wanting anything but what I saw staring back at me and I can remember my heart pounding, both out of fear and nerves, when I looked at myself one day and saw that on my sides I had purple lines; purple lines that had gotten drastically bigger since I'd last looked. I'd seen them on my sister when she was pregnant, I knew that they were stretch marks and, for me, it was the defining point in my life where I went into overdrive with losing weight. Through overly restrictive eating plans, exhausting exercise programmes and whatever weight-loss tricks I could research, out of pure fear not to look at those marks again I worked myself to insane extents (I'd have one small meal a day, exercise non-stop for 5 hours and do an hour in the morning before school) to the point where I did have the kind of body that I'd dreamt of having for so long.
One day I was out with my Mum and she bought me a jacket, one that was meant to be tight fitting and when I wore it for the first time I felt nervous of what people might say to me- it was certainly different to anything else I'd worn before- but all I got were surprised reactions of people that were, literally, amazed at the weight I'd lost. Inside, though, I still felt like that scared person that needed to lose weight, so that's what I kept on doing. My parents and my form tutor (separate occasions) had both sat me down and said they thought I had a problem, though I didn't believe I did. From my point of view, I was perfectly justified to lose weight given how I thought I looked. Eventually, I stopped pushing myself to lose weight like I was doing, though, when I look back I still don't properly recall what it was that made me or helped me to stop. Lately, I'm not sure if it's a problem that's completely gone but, when I heard that line in The Story it made me think for a while about this whole thing.
The 'lines across my face' are the stretch marks on my body and, as I've shown above, just those marks alone 'tell you the story of who I am [...] and how I got to where I am' and, for me, it's a very personal story that made me relate to the second quoted set of lyrics I posted. Despite the happiness that people saw in me, the smile that I had when they complimented me on how much weight I'd lost, in my head I was always thinking that I could be better, I should be better, that what I was right now was still wrong. For a very long time, no-one knew how I felt or how strong my desire to change myself was, though I'm just glad in the end that some people did notice and said something to me...I may have been less than gracious at the time about it, but the help of people around you is something that I've come to appreciate greatly in life because not everyone gives it, unfortunately.
The lines on my body, although are now clear and no longer purple, will always be there as a reminder to me; a reminder of what I can do to myself (both with weight gain and loss), the emotional things I went through, the events that happened but, most importantly, they're a part of me that tells a story... one story of the many that I'll come to have in my life.
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
Chain Reactions
When one event triggers, directly, another event that then goes on, repeatedly, to trigger a series of events, we call this a chain reaction. In a physical sense, this could be a chemical reaction or a system of objects triggered through force consideration into acting in a certain way upon each other. We take most of these for granted in life but, if for some reason, one of these chains were to be broken then the results could be highly undesired. Take, for example, the chain reactions in the body. So many reactions occur in the body as a result of one another and each one has a vital role, if one of them were to slip up then it could throw an unknown multitude of things into chaos. So, for the examples I've encountered at least, physical chain reactions breaking can bring chaos...though I don't doubt that this is true for every case.
Emotionally, I believe, chain reactions can also occur. In my life I've noticed, in myself, a large amount of insecurity and self-doubt in my many areas of my life, particularly my confidence. It's resulted in me being caught up in, what I think, is an emotional chain reaction and it seems to stem from insecurities about myself. I would message someone online, for whatever reason I had at the time, but would- quite frequently- receive no reply. So, if it were a message to which I needed a reply or confirmation of reading, I would send a second message to ask if the first message had been read. With very little to react to from the other person, I started to get the impression that they were annoyed by my messages. This was the first link in my emotional chain. From this, I began to worry that from their annoyance they would then start to dislike me, from there I then worried that they would want nothing to do with my if I carried on. In some form of a vicious cycle, these last few thoughts led me to send further messages in fear of losing someone I care about.
It's no news to me that I take things to heart, read too much into things and often assume the worst possible scenarios, it's probably a combination of these qualities that has led me to the slight paranoia/fear towards the end of my chain. What's the best thing to do in a situation like this, though? I highly doubt that letting things run their course will go well, so then the logical conclusion would be so somehow break the chain I've fallen into...but how? If you're stuck somewhere because of your insecurities and your doubts in a place that will only lead to bad things, what can you do to save yourself? It would be convenient, really, for someone else- a friend, perhaps- to help you break your chain, though not everyone has that.
The best conclusion I can ponder for the predicament I find myself in is not an easy one by any means...but is, I feel, the best one that a person can have if they have only themselves in this situation: To have willpower. Have willpower and try to break your own chain, as strange as you may come across to others for what you say or do, if at the end of it you end up not repeating the same mistakes that you did before or thought you were bound to, then you'll have achieved something that you can be both proud of and more sure that you won't do them again. It's often very difficult to not hide yourself in regrets, despite how much I've come out of my shell in the past year at college I know I'm very much still self conscious and unconfident, but if you truly want something enough then you'll find the willpower in you to do what you need to do in order to avoid the worst. It seems that, emotionally, breaking a chain seems to be the better thing to do, contrary to the physical kind.
Emotionally, I believe, chain reactions can also occur. In my life I've noticed, in myself, a large amount of insecurity and self-doubt in my many areas of my life, particularly my confidence. It's resulted in me being caught up in, what I think, is an emotional chain reaction and it seems to stem from insecurities about myself. I would message someone online, for whatever reason I had at the time, but would- quite frequently- receive no reply. So, if it were a message to which I needed a reply or confirmation of reading, I would send a second message to ask if the first message had been read. With very little to react to from the other person, I started to get the impression that they were annoyed by my messages. This was the first link in my emotional chain. From this, I began to worry that from their annoyance they would then start to dislike me, from there I then worried that they would want nothing to do with my if I carried on. In some form of a vicious cycle, these last few thoughts led me to send further messages in fear of losing someone I care about.
It's no news to me that I take things to heart, read too much into things and often assume the worst possible scenarios, it's probably a combination of these qualities that has led me to the slight paranoia/fear towards the end of my chain. What's the best thing to do in a situation like this, though? I highly doubt that letting things run their course will go well, so then the logical conclusion would be so somehow break the chain I've fallen into...but how? If you're stuck somewhere because of your insecurities and your doubts in a place that will only lead to bad things, what can you do to save yourself? It would be convenient, really, for someone else- a friend, perhaps- to help you break your chain, though not everyone has that.
The best conclusion I can ponder for the predicament I find myself in is not an easy one by any means...but is, I feel, the best one that a person can have if they have only themselves in this situation: To have willpower. Have willpower and try to break your own chain, as strange as you may come across to others for what you say or do, if at the end of it you end up not repeating the same mistakes that you did before or thought you were bound to, then you'll have achieved something that you can be both proud of and more sure that you won't do them again. It's often very difficult to not hide yourself in regrets, despite how much I've come out of my shell in the past year at college I know I'm very much still self conscious and unconfident, but if you truly want something enough then you'll find the willpower in you to do what you need to do in order to avoid the worst. It seems that, emotionally, breaking a chain seems to be the better thing to do, contrary to the physical kind.
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