i'm darkness and light and bubbles and faerie wings. i love purple and faeries and music and i'm pretty sure that WordPress hates me.

1027

The number of songs currently on my iPhone, and I don’t want to listen to any of them.

They are all annoying me. I just skip, skip, skip, past each one. I stop, thinking I’ve found a song I want to listen to, but then skip it half-way through. I hate this feeling. I hate days like this. Well, more like weeks. I had over 2000 songs on here until recently, but got rid of most of them, keeping only those I was more inclined to let play.  Alas, not so much any more.

music

 

So, I can’t read, and now I can’t listen to music. My two main outlets are currently out of service. I keep rustling my feathers, unable to sit still. I could really use a break from all of this.

Sophspirational Saturday

mental weight gain

You feel it in the way you move. Slow. Sluggish. Every step you take is difficult, like you’re walking with weights attached to your shoes.

You feel it in the way you breathe. Shallow. Laboured. Each breath is difficult, like you’ve been climbing stairs for 100 years and you just don’t have any oxygen left.

You feel it in the way you hold yourself. Bloated. Hunched. Being in your own skin is difficult. It’s too tight. It’s too heavy. It’s suffocating you. It’s electric, filled with static.

Clothes are too tight. Clothes are too loose. Clothes feel like shards of glass against your skin.

You think if you stood on a scale right now, that you’d see a number twice as large as the one normally there. You’re weighted down. Heavy. One million tons. You have to be, moving is so difficult. You have the weight of the world on your back.

When everything gets so overwhelming that you can’t breath, or think, or move.

The weight of it all is too much. It paralyses you. You’re stuck. You feel it all around. The weight is on your chest, your head, sometimes your stomach, your feet, your legs. You can’t move without the effort of a hundred horses pulling you forward.

So you stop. You stay still. You try to deepen your breaths and clear your mind. Sometimes you hide. You avoid. You distract.

You want to step on that scale and not see the added weight of your sadness, worries, and anxiety. You’ll lose it little by little. Slowly. But meanwhile, you feel like you outweigh the largest elephant, the biggest whale. And carrying that around is exhausting.

I don’t care too much about physical weight gain. I’m not one who obsesses about every little pound up or down. It’s the mental weight gain that plagues me. Time and time again. And I can’t escape it.

 

the past is always closer and farther away than you think it is

On Friday, January 23, I turned 39. I am officially in the last year of my 30s. It’s strange to me. Last week when I was looking through my blog for a old photo in archives, I came across this post. I found it oddly time appropriate since the first item on that list was “10 years ago” and it was written 10 years ago from now. It made me sad, and nostalgic, and happy, and, well… wonder. Is it time to change the same answers on this list? Because they are awfully similar to what I am doing now.

So here goes.

10 years ago:
I was 29.
It was 2005.
I got married to my soulmate on July 2.
I was working at the University bookstore.
I thought I’d be moving on from working at McGill. Silly me.
I thought I’d be moving out of Quebec soon. Silly me.
I had amazing friends, but I still suffered from the insecurity that people didn’t really like me.
I had a learner’s permit, and never really practiced driving.

5 years ago:
I was 34.
It was 2010.
I had laser eye surgery. It took 3 years to heal. =/
I saw CATS at Place des Arts with my husband.
I was married for 5 years. That went fast.
I did have a new job, after the bookstore, but it was still at McGill. Now I’m an assistant to a Dean.
I still had my learner’s permit. Maybe this year?
I traveled to NYC by myself to attend Book Expo America.
I thought I’d be moving on from working at McGill soon. Silly me.
I thought I’d be moving out of Quebec soon. Silly me.

3 years ago:
I was 36.
It was 2012.
I was finally driving. Driver’s licence obtained September 2011. Go, me!
My parents moved out of Quebec, to Ontario. Before I did. Go figure.
I traveled to Quebec City with my husband. A short, weekend vacation.
I started Jinx’s Garden. He took it over after I planted it.
I was married for 7 years. That went fast!
I went back to school. First time in 17 years. Scary.
I thought I’d be moving on from working at McGill soon. Silly me.
I thought I’d be moving out of Quebec soon. Silly me.

1 year ago:
I was 38.
It was 2014.
We lost Jinx, unexpectedly and tragically. And we’re still trying to recover.
I shut down my book blog. A difficult but necessary decisions
I celebrated 13 years of working at McGill.
I thought I’d be moving on from working at McGill soon. Silly me.
I thought I’d be moving out of Quebec soon. Silly me.

Today: I am 39.
It is 2015.
I will be married for 10 years in July.
I am still at McGill. Still in Quebec.
I am still recovering from a trauma that happened almost 2 years ago.
I don’t know who I am or who I want to be.
I don’t know where I want to be in life.
I feel slightly broken, though happy at the same time.
I am ready for change. Ready for adventure.
I am very ready to get out of my 30s.
I am ready to leave McGill and leave Quebec.
I am ready for adventure. The good kind.

I might be stuck. I don’t want to be.

I am nowhere near where I thought I’d be ten years ago today. I don’t know where that is, but it certainly isn’t where I currently am in life.

I have no idea how 10 years have passed in the blink of an eye. I don’t feel like that much time has passed at all. Where did it go?

Sophspirational Saturday