How my life changed forever at 33 – The saddest birthday

Today is the last day I'll be 33-years old.

Good fucking riddance. 

An acquaintance had told me 33 was such an amazing year, because 33 sounds like "30 free." She had went on about how it was a great year for her and I should be so excited to be turning 33. 

Towards my 33rd birthday, I was trying to heal from all the trauma and turmoil that took place when I was 32, so I was wishing that 33 would give me a break. Nah.

Shortly after I turned 33, I received my official ADHD diagnosis. It was tremendously validating to finally have an explanation for so many things that I was doing or traits I had (which had been troubling me forever), but that opened a can of worms. Once I finally had confirmation I was an ADHDer, I started suspecting I was autistic – among others. Having to deal with a late ADHD diagnosis is beyond challenging: you re-examine your whole life, and mourn for the years you lost not being able to be your authentic self – due to having to mask and the lack of accommodations towards your neurodivergence; you feel anger and frustration that no-one had noticed: parents, teachers, friends, professors, partners, therapists, psychiatrists, doctors... Why didn't anyone notice? Why did I have to suffer all alone? Then, you feel empathy and sorrow for 'you' that was exploited as a vulnerable person. Add discovering that you probably have coexisting neurodiversities to the equation and it's more than most of us can handle on a good day. 

Amidst all that, I stopped taking my antidepressants (SSRIs), after four and a half years. It was something I had been wanting to do for a very long time, but the confirmation I was neurodivergent solidified that need and want. I knew that my depression and anxiety being treated as stand-alone conditions would do fuck-all long-term. I had to focus on living my live authentically, as a neurodivergent person; I had to focus on other things beyond the depression and anxiety. That isn't to say that antidepressants didn't help the first couple of years of taking them. They did. They were the reason I overcame my agoraphobia, and why my panic disorder lay dormant for years. It is worth-mentioning that I always combined taking medication with going to therapy. I still go to therapy to this day. Therapy is really important and beneficial to me, and it has helped me exist in times when it was impossible for me to cope. I believe that medication alone wouldn't have benefitted me as much. Anyhow, after consulting my doctor, I quit antidepressants. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. No exaggeration. I went into a six-week depressive episode. I think, overall, it probably took me about two months to start feeling like myself again, from the moment I completely stopped taking them. But even then, I needed more time to recover. Even now, I'm not sure I've fully recovered, and it's been months. 

But of course, all that wasn't enough. My physical health had to suffer, too. From extremely nasty chest infections (which left my lungs with long-term issues), to an eye injury, to catching the corona virus (omicron, thankfully), to a UTI, to having two surgeries (both of which have been mentally traumatising and the second of which changed my body forever) and complications with the healing of the second one, this has easily been the year when my health has been the most challenged. And I'm still not recovered. I'm still waiting to see how I will heal, and if I will be alright. Which is horrible for anyone, but especially for neurodivergents – who can't deal with ambiguity – it's soul crushing. 

And then, comes the personal stuff. Human relationships are hard. They can be painful. Dealing with rejection sensitivity dysphoria (look it up, it's something a lot of neurodivergents suffer from) whilst going through a depressive episode added another layer of pain and hopelessness. Then, a few incidents where my consent was violated took place really close to each other, and that was extremely difficult to deal with. Those, due to my CPTSD brought some very dark memories to surface. That has been a common theme this year: me being triggered and horrific memories poking through. Not peeking, poking. 

"Some friends are only part of the journey" (tiktok user klane88). When I saw that phrase, I teared up. It is so very true. I have lost a lot of people over the years. I say loss, because that's how I experience it. I go through different stages until I reach acceptance. I get hurt, angry, sad, and then, I move on. This year, again, I lost a few people. Some, I had started losing from years before; some, I lost suddenly, once I realised they were not there for me, when my health was deteriorating. It hurt. Deeply. I support the ones I love, passionately, radically. I don't expect the same level of support, but I would hope for interest and empathy. When I don't get these, things can never go back to how they were before. 

I am also thinking of all the (di)stress and agony I went through, due to this being the second year of my second masters degree: the sleepless nights, the all-nighters, how I managed to submit my dissertation whilst healing from the first surgery... The fact that I signed up for a short course now that I'm healing from the second surgery (whilst I'm still waiting for my dissertation grade)... But, you and I had enough of this. I'm exhausted typing all this negativity. I'm drained feeling it, and seeing it on screen isn't helping.

So, here we are. What I just did is called "anaskopisi" ("ανασκόπηση" /"review"/"retrospection"), of my 33rd year on this planet. 
Did I leave a couple of positive things out? Sure.
Am I feeling negative as fuck at the moment? Sure, I'm going through a depressive episode, after all.
Do I think tomorrow is going to be one of the worst birthdays I've ever had? Absolutely.
I'm not going to be able to celebrate due to health complications, despite buying plane tickets months prior, for the sole purpose of being able to celebrate my birthday - and handing my dissertation - with my friends in my home country.

If I could make a birthday wish this year, it would be to make it to 35 a lot healthier – and maybe a bit happier – than what I am today. 

x

Random Thoughts LXXVIII

Self-love is not linear; things may happen to us which can make it tremendously challenging to practice it.
In those times, self-preservation is enough and it is valid.
Take care x

Random Thoughts LXXVII

When you share with people, be mindful they will project their own issues, ideologies and traumas on you.
This is worth considering before you choose whom to trust your personal information with.

The Goldie Weekender Part 1 @ Fabric - A review of the overall experience

Final Thoughts, TLTR in the end.

The Queue/Security/Staff: 

My friend had bought a Priority Ticket, the type you buy when you don't want to queue. You had to be there before 1am to get in. He still had to queue with me for 1 hour. When we asked a staff member about it she told us it doesn't matter. Different ticket providers give different options, but in the end it doesn't mean anything. Is this Fabric's fault or Resident Advisor's (the ticket provider) fault? My friend was quite confused and upset, and rightfully so. A lot of people in the queue were pissed off, and I could hear them talk about it. If someone pays extra money to get in faster, having to wait for an hour isn't what they were expecting. Not to mention all the people jumping the queue due to bad monitoring. Sometimes security was extra vigilant and even harsh, and others, super distracted while they were telling people off, so opportunists would jump the queue.

I've been going to Fabric for over ten years now. As most of us who have been to Fabric know (because we have experienced it), their security is rude and at times can get borderline aggressive. I'm saying this as a person who has been going to Fabric sober for a very long time. This time, most staff members were polite, and pleasant, but there was also the usual touching you and pushing you (without your consent) and shouting in your face. All that before you even entered the club. Inside, they were mostly invisible, and I was surprised to see a staff member witnessing two people (man and woman) shouting to each other (they were having an argument) and not interfering. The staff member was sitting right next to them on the couch, but he did fuck all. I also witnessed a woman get harassed by a man in the loo and there were a couple staff members present in there, not sure if they realised what was going on, but they didn't do anything. 

The Music

Oh my fucking days! My brain got thoroughly and pleasantly penetrated by phenomenally good music! The sets were the following:

Room 1

METALHEADZ

Diverge 11 - 12 

Loxy & Ink & Medic MC 12 - 1

Paradox (Live) 1 - 2 

Dillinja B2B Bailey 2 - 3.30

Goldie & Medic MC 3.30 - 5

Nookie 5 - 6 

Room 2 

BASSIC10 -10 YEARS OF THE BASSIC

Naina 12 - 1

Ant TC1 B2B Zero T & MC Fokus 1 - 2

Goldie B2B Doc Scott & MC GQ 2 - 3 

Grooverider & MC Fokus 3 - 4 

SL8R & MC Fokus 4 - 5 

The sets I missed were the first two from Room 1, the first one from Room 2 and very unfortunately, I missed Grooverider & MC Fokus as well (which was a set I really wanted to catch), but I will explain why below. 

The whole night was fantastic and filled with quality drum and bass. For us jungle lovers, there was a lot of auditory teasing, in the nicest way possible. Big thumbs up to the lights people for adding majorly to the experience, and to the floor staff for being discreet while cleaning and not obstructing our dancing throughout the night. I noticed that most people also respected the no pictures/videos rule, which added to the experience. My highlights:

I am not sure I possess the vocabulary to describe the first 10-15 (?) minutes of Dillinja B2B Bailey's set and the feelings and sensations it evoked, not just for me, but for the whole room. The whole set was unreal, but the 'intro' specifically was otherworldly. From the first few seconds the atmosphere changed, the energy in the room was electrifying; we were all transported somewhere else: a musical garden of Eden. I couldn't leave the room. The set lasted for an hour and a half. During that time I went to Room 2 to check Goldie B2B Doc Scott & MC GQ's set for ten minutes maybe (because that was another set I didn't want to miss), used the loo once and got some water from the water bar (which is a great idea and more clubs/bars should adopt it). The rest of the time I was dancing in Room 1, because the set was that good. And that set was the talk of the night: in the smoking area, the loo, the chill area, everywhere. Dillinja outdid himself. I wanted to meet him and shake his hand to say "Thank you for the experience," but also, I didn't want to be a creep or cringy, so I said it internally. And the ending! When I heard those first notes from The Angels Fell, I lost my shit. A perfectly smooth ending to a marvelous set. Bravo!

On why I missed Grooverider & MC Fokus' set: A little after Dillinja B2B Bailey's set was finished, we decided to go to the smoking area for some fresh air. We didn't intend to stay there for too long, as I really wanted to catch at least part of Grooverider's set. Sadly, by the time we got there and then back, the set was over.

We heard a lot of 'Amen Breaks' last night, and each of them was welcomed and much needed by our raver souls. I'm glad I was wearing dancing shoes, because fucking hell! I could not stop dancing. Apart from the above-mentioned legendary set, there were a couple of very special moments I will cherish. The first, when Goldie spoke about music and the DNB community after his set in Room 1, and thanked us all for being part of that night. Then, when Nookie finished his set with Out of Space by the Prodigy. You could see why that tune was perfect to end the night. Both moments were magical and a reminder that music is truly a gift to be shared, an experience to connect us all. 

The Creeps

A lot of the staff were wearing t-shirts reading "Don't be a creep." Now, that is lovely and all, but a creep isn't going to be self-aware enough to realise they're being a creep. So, these t-shirts are more of a marketing move, than practically helpful. What would be useful would be posters around the club, at the bar and in the toilets explaining what consent is, and telling men to NOT touch women unless they have their informed, enthusiastic and ongoing consent. Or even better, having to fill a short questionnaire on consent whilst purchasing your ticket (whether online or at the door).

My experience with men's inappropriate behaviour at the venue on the night:

Me and my friend were in the smoking area when a guy approached us. He was friendly and started socialising with us. He indirectly asked if we were a couple, which I found a tad bizarre considering he had just started talking to us. Then, he stressed how he wouldn't go out with a female friend one on one. Red flag. He asked to join us inside and we said yes, as he kept complaining about his colleagues (whom he came with), how they were only talking about work, whereas he wanted to unwind. He kept on touching my shoulders and arms from the second we started heading inside. He didn't stop touching me until the moment he left. He did not ask for my consent not even once. When we were sat on a couch I made sure my friend was sat between us. He obviously didn't get the message that he was making me uncomfortable -or he didn't care. He had asked me to get me a drink a few times (and insisted). I explained I wanted to remain sober during the night, and I would only be drinking water. When we were on the dance floor, all I wanted to do was dance and enjoy my time and the experience. He would not leave me alone for a large part of the time he was with us; he would try to find an excuse to come close to me or talk to me, when he could clearly see I was there for the music and not to talk to a stranger who was there to pull. He kept coming behind me and awkwardly touching my shoulders or arms as part of some sort of 'dance move' which was just spoiling the moment for me. At some point he handed me his mobile phone device. I looked at him curiously. He expected me to give him my number. The only thing that could come out of my mouth was 'Ahhh.' I sincerely could not speak. He said it's okay if I didn't want to, but he kept holding the phone in front of my face. I tried to change the subject by asking if he was leaving. He kept on saying something, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I the end he said 'Maybe' (that he was leaving) and he gave me and my friend a hug and left. Unfortunately, we stumbled upon him later in the night, as he had gotten lost (or so he said) and couldn't find the exit. I pointed him towards the right way. I'm sure he could have asked a staff member...

After a while and towards the end of the night, while my friend was sitting a bit further back resting, a guy started talking to me. Not sure why men think we can have a conversation on the dance floor where there is loud music, or why they think it's okay to interrupt my dancing to introduce themselves. The entitlement! That guy grabbed my waist. I was extremely disturbed by it. And to make matters worse, at some point, he came from behind me grabbing my shoulders! I turned around and shouted "You scared the shit out of me!" And he smiled at me asking why. It's a good thing my friend came to the dancefloor after that (and I made a point of talking to him so that the creep could see I wasn't alone), because he started dancing with my friend, which gave me the opportunity to move into the crowd and get away from him. 

Before, I mentioned that I was witness to a woman getting harassed in the loo. I had actually seen that woman get harassed by that man even prior to that, but then, saw them again in the loo. That was before any of the two incidents with these two men had happened to me. I told the man harassing her to "Move along" and he kept insisting that he knows her. I told him I didn't care and he should go. I asked her if she minded that I was rude to him (since he said he knew her) and she said she didn't mind at all. She actually thanked me and felt so relieved that she gave me a hug for telling him off, because he wouldn't had left her alone had I not told him to. 

Final Thoughts/TLTR

This was one of the best drum'n'bass nights of my life music wise. Stellar quality of sets. The whole atmosphere and vibe was impeccable, from the lights to the crowd to the djs and mcs pouring their soul into the sound. Auditory orgasm doesn't even begin to describe it. 

The venue could do better in terms of queue management, and handling creepy men. The water bar is an excellent idea, and so is the wifi (nevertheless, it wasn't working). 

My personal experiences with men's inappropriate behaviour during the night spoiled a bit of the experience. 

To sum up, I had an epic time, but I still had a nightmare about these men touching me when I went to bed after I got home. 

Edit: Forgot to mention if you bought a ticket for Friday, you got free access on Saturday, too. Which is awesome of course (bare in mind, Saturday isn't DNB). Thank you, Goldie!

My hair. –Allow me to be sad–

 Today, something I dreaded happened. I had to have my hair cut short, very short. Ear length.

Now, I know that may not sound negative or of importance to you, but it for sure has been devastating to me.
Yesterday, I woke up with two terrible hair knots on each side of my head, and despite managing to untangle one them (losing a terrifying amount of hair in the process), even after 5 hours of trying almost everything you can think of, I gave up on the second one. So, I booked an appointment with a hairdresser for the next day (today).

"Kim, there's people that are dying" is a phrase that was turned into a meme, when Kim Kardashian was crying for losing her diamond earring into the ocean –it was found in the end. I'm not saying my hair is worth as much as a diamond earring, after all, it wasn't extracted from the earth using the exploitation of underprivileged humans, spreading false propaganda of rarity of said material to produce an overpriced product. What I am saying though, is that I know there's more important things than hairs, or my hair. Global warming, modern slavery, war, famine, poverty, social issues, terminal disease, heartbreak etc. etc. ... Hell, I myself suffer from things that are considered more severe than having to cut one's hair short.
Having said that, my feelings aren't any different. It is a loss, a loss I'm mourning for. I'm sad, and I feel shitty. To me, having longer hair was a choice I didn't take lightly. It's not easy to manage long curly hair, and I have cursed in frustration times aplenty, spending hours untangling it. The shortest I had ever gone was shoulder length, even when I had parts of my head shaved. Having longer hair made me feel feminine, playful, free; it allowed me to try different hairstyles, and it had become part of my identity. As a plus size woman (bbw, fat or however you want to call it) I felt that long hair framed my face better and complimented my figure. Moreover, being neurodivergent, when I felt overwhelmed –which is very often– I could always hide behind my hair.

As I mentioned on my Instagram story: I recognise that since I'm sharing things publicly, that can be misconstrued as an invitation for others to chime in with their two cents regarding my situation.
It is not an invitation.
The way being forced to have short hair makes me feel is not negotiable and it is not to be diminished because "there's worse happening in the world." I am painfully aware of the fucked-up-ness that is going on in the world, but I don't see how prohibiting me from expressing –or feeling– my feelings is going to help with that. I did receive wonderful messages from people showing empathy towards my sorrow; I truly appreciate those. I also received messages from people judging my reaction or shoving toxic positivity down my throat. I did not appreciate those.
My feelings don't exist to be judged by you. No one is forcing you to follow my journey on any social media platform, you choose to do so by your own accord. You see the kind of person that I am: passionate, open, creative; I rant, I share my thoughts and feelings. I'm an artist, a mental health advocate, neurodivergent. If these things upset you, or make you feel uncomfortable, an unfollow is a click away. However, if you try to dictate how I should feel, how I should react to these things which hurt me –no matter how small they are (to you): I will not tolerate it.

There is a lot to be said about a society that won't allow people to experience sadness even momentarily; a society always trying to distract us from feeling deeply, thinking deeply, and in general, a society emerged in superficial distractions, but this article was supposed to be about my hair. Or was it? 

Uroboros

The same thing

Repeating and re-repeating until something changes,

But nothing changes;

Stagnant, it all remains the same

Painfully obvious and against us

(01-2022. Inspired by scroll 1 (1996) by Carolee Schneeman)

How are you?

 Apparently when someone asks 'How are you?' they really couldn't give two fucks about the response.

 But if you dare respond honestly, then you're either entitled and privileged for expressing you're not well (I mean, there's people dying after all), or too emotional and just made things awkward. 

Is this an English speaking country thing or a neurotypical persons thing? 

Why are you asking me how I am if the only answer you'll accept is "I'm fine/alright." 

I ain't gonna lie to make you feel comfortable ffs. 

I can't with humans. I CAN'T!

#ΕΡΤ_ανώμαλοι

 

Είδα αυτό στο twitter, και ένιωσα κάτι πέρα από αηδία.
Το tweet ήταν σε σχέση με το φιλί μεταξύ δύο ανδρών που προβλήθηκε στην ΕΡΤ 1 και τις αντιδράσεις στο twitter, σε συνδυασμό με το # που δημιουργήθηκε σχετικά με αυτό.

Ο τυπάς λοιπόν, του οποίου το twitter είναι η τοξική αρρενωπότητα και ο εθνικισμός προσωποποιημένα ανάρτησε το παρακάτω tweet.

Μετά έχουν το θράσος να μου λένε ότι δεν υπάρχει μισογυνισμός.
Εντωμεταξύ κοίταξα ποιοί του είχαν κάνει like, και ήταν το ένα χειρότερο από το άλλο τα προφίλ. Εθνικισμός, ρατσισμός, ομοφοβία, μισογυνισμός, πατρίς-θρησκεία-οικογένεια κλπ.

Ένιωσα να ανακατεύεται το μέσα μου, ειλικρινά.

Έχω επιλέξει να μην έχω τέτοια άτομα στο περιβάλλον μου, και έχω την τύχη να μη χρειάζεται να τα συναναστρέφομαι γενικότερα, οπότε όταν πέφτω πάνω τους, είτε διαδικτυακά, είτε στον έξω κόσμο, σοκάρομαι πραγματικά.