The Song

Do you ever listen to a song that reminds you of someone

– Maybe a song they loved –

To feel close to them?

To get a glimpse of a memory, a moment you were happily together?

Do you ever listen to a song that reminds you of someone

– Maybe a song you enjoyed listening to together –

And break down in tears?

Because you know that the music they loved is the only thing you have left of them?

Do you ever listen to a song that reminds you of someone

– Maybe your song –

And feel your heart being ripped out of your chest?

Because every time you listen to it, you realise you’re one step closer to losing them forever?

Random Thoughts LXXXVI

I think one of the worst things that can be done to someone is not being believed. 

And even worse, not being believed by loved ones.

Random Thoughts LXXXIV

Picture taken by me: London, December 2021.

Just another day of hopelessness, despair and anxiety.

I keep noticing and realising by observing my surroundings, people in real life, and people on the internet: a very large number of the population lacks logic and reason, the ability to think critically, and the will to learn before forming opinions, sharing them and insisting on them.

And the more I see this, and the more I see behaviours that confirm this, the less hope I have for the future of humanity, but also for my own future.

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? 

Fear of Death

Fear of death is something that has been torturing me since a very young age. It has been paralysing at times. Avoidance and inaction feels like freezing time after all. Not doing, inertia, gives you the false impression that you managed to pause life itself. 
But you didn't. 

Sometimes you may even consider inertia as 'not living.' And if you're not living, how could you ever die?
The safety not acting brings is very comforting. You make no right, you make no wrong, and you also don't progress. Because progressing means death. Doing brings you a step closer to death. 

I have been avoiding dealing with death for a very long time. The first time I had to face death was when family pets died. The first couple of times I was too young to understand what death meant. Then, I realised death is loss. Death is not ever seeing someone or something again, never experiencing life with them again, never experiencing what you love about them again.

When I was ten, my mum's mother, my grandma, passed away. She was 96 and bed bound for the last eight years of her life. She died in her sleep, on an armchair in the living room, as I was playing with my toys in the same room. They told me she died in her own bedroom a few minutes later. I recently was told by a cousin that she actually died in front of me. I still cannot digest that. I have no recollection of it. At the time, I didn't really deal with her death. I wasn't even allowed at her funeral. It wasn't until years later that I actually managed to come to terms with her passing.

The following years I heard about a few of my parents' relatives and acquaintances passing away. Most of the time I didn't even know them in person, so even though I might have felt a bit shaken, I was able to move on without paying attention. The very few times someone I actually knew passed away I didn't really think about it. I was sad and even devastated when I heard about it, but the next day it was as if the bad news had disappeared from my thoughts. Even when I went to someone's funeral, I tried to treat it like a bad dream. It wasn't real to me. It wasn't that I didn't care about those people, it was that I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with loss. I didn't know how to mourn and move on. 

One day before I turned 21, our dog, Lulu, had to be put down. She had multiple types of cancer and she was suffering. She was 15 years old. I had to tell her goodbye, so I spent some time with her, telling her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. We had her since I was six. I couldn't stop crying. After the vet put her down I didn't stop crying for a week. I couldn't eat, I couldn't speak. I was a mess. Up to this day I feel like she's going to come to the kitchen sometimes and give us her googly eyes to get food. 

I took an oath to never have a dog or any other pet after that. I didn't have the strength to live with their loss. 

In the past five years I keep on hearing about death. In my personal circles and in the world. Terrorism, mass murders, suicides, old age, diseases etc. And I block it. I desperately attempt to never think about it. Many times I fail though. And those times it's tremendously hard to get on with life. 

After the loss of a close family friend a few months ago, then my grandma’s and more recently a family member’s miscarriage I have been thinking about death constantly.

We recently visited our family friend's widow. She was a shadow of her once cheerful self. There was a sadness in her eyes, a surrender. She's 56 years old, relatively young. Still, you could tell she didn't know how to keep on living. She had been married to her husband since she was 17 years old. She only knew how to live as his wife. She had never experienced adult life without him. Luckily, she became grandmother a few months prior to her husband's passing. From our conversation I realised her grandchild is what is keeping her alive. The night after our visit I found it hard to sleep. I couldn't shake her image from my head. The way she sat, how many times she almost burst into tears...

On the 23rd of July my dad's mother, my other grandma, passed away at 102. She died in her sleep on her bed, surrounded by her children and children in law. I hadn't seen her much in the past ten years, only a couple of times a year -if so-, since I lived in England. The last 2 years she couldn't communicate and didn't know what was going on most of the time. The only time I cried was when during her funeral, one of the children she saved as a nurse spoke about her life. I still haven't mourned her loss. Maybe because I didn't spend as much time with her. The funeral was quite hard, especially since my aunt decided she wanted an open casket. She looked quite peaceful, as if she was asleep. However, when I touched her forehead to say goodbye, she was frozen. Then it hit me: That was her dead body. It was an empty vessel and my grandma wasn't in there anymore.

I haven't been able to sleep properly since her passing. My nightmares have gotten worse and my anxiety has hit the roof. I think with her death and what came after her death, I had to admit that life ends. I had to face that life is short and when the end comes, it's the end. 

Please don't respond with your religious beliefs about the afterlife; they're irrelevant to me. And unnecessary at this point. I personally believe death brings the end. You're gone. Nothingness.
And that will be forever hard to handle.

Two days ago I was informed that a relative of mine -who has been trying to get pregnant since April- had a miscarriage. It was very early stages of the pregnancy, but she was still broken. I didn't speak with her much as we're trying to give the couple privacy. Nevertheless, I could feel her pain for the loss of a future child. The loss of her hopes that she would be a mother. Her and her husband are mourning at the moment. 

It has been a very tough summer. The warmth of the weather collides with the deaths in my immediate circles, only highlighting the antithesis.
Quite mentally drained at the moment, I'm hopelessly searching for a healthy strategy on coming to terms with loss, with death.
I have a very long way to go, and I'm unsure I'll ever manage it. 

~

ps. In reading this, I hope you find comfort in the fact that you are not alone. We all come across death and loss in life. It's one of the few things that we all have in common, a few things that can unite us.
ps2. Part of a poem inspired by the events of this summer.

Little Lizard

Less than a couple of hours ago I thought I had saved a little lizard from two stray cats. Its tail was cut off and it had a scratch on the side. I put it in a safe place in the garden, only to find out that ants were eating it an hour later. I was very shaken and sad by the fact that I couldn't save it, but even more so by the fact that it was suffering prior to its death. This is a poem I wrote for it:

"Poor little lizard, what an awful way to dieHe cut your tail and he scratched your side

I tried to save you; I failed, tell me why?
My heart is broken, distraught; I saw you die

I hoped you didn’t suffer; I want to say goodbye
Your last moments were painful; I wish it was a lie

I wish I’d been more helpful, I wish I’d saved your life
I’m now mourning your death, tears running from my eyes

I thought you would survive this, but then I saw the ants
Devouring your small body, approached you really fast

I’ll give you a proper burial, I know you had a soul
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from this unfair downfall"

Rest in peace little lizard...

Loss of a family friend

Today I found out a family friend passed away yesterday.
I still don't know exactly how I feel, or how I will react tomorrow -at the funeral.

My parents came back home from their gardening session not looking as excited as they usually do. I asked them how did the gardening go, only to find out the news.

Mr. Yiannis was a remarkable man. He was born and raised in a small Greek village. He lost his dad when his was a baby, so his mother raised him by herself. He started working at the age of nine. He left the village to go to the city at the age of 11, apprenticing as a vehicle mechanic. Then, he decided to apprentice in merchant ships as a mechanic. So, at the tender age of 13 he boarded a ship. When he was 20 years old his mother died whilst he was in the army (joining the army is compulsory for men in Greece). He was completely alone.
Ten years later he married a lovely woman, they had a daughter together. One decade later he had to quit being a mechanic and return to land permanently due to severe health implications. His family was there for him, his friends were there for him. He was well loved. He was also very fond of cats. When he was apprenticing, he didn't have anywhere to sleep, so he slept on the shop's storage floor. There were a lot of stray cats in the neighbourhood and every winter they slept with him to keep him warm. They were his friends.
The past 28 years he has been suffering from many different health issues, but he always had a smile on his face. Kind, warm and welcoming. The past couple of years were very hard on him and his family. Surgeries, more surgeries, a lot of pain and recovery. Last September he became a granddad. I heard he was so happy. It is very unfortunate his grandchild will never get to really meet this amazing human being.
I hadn't seen him for a few years myself. I deeply regret it now.

But that's the thing with death. You never know when and who it will strike.

Rest in Peace κύριε Γιάννη.
Ήσασταν υπέροχος άνθρωπος.
🌸

Angry & Tired

I've been very angry lately.

Angry and tired.

Angry because I see so much unfairness around me. People benefit from others' sadness and exploitation. And they don't even care.
They don't give a fuck.

And tired because I am one of those who care.
I am one of those who do give a fuck.
And so, I suffer.

I suffer due to my own issues (which I'm not going to refer to on this post, as they're way too many), but I also suffer due to others' issues and how the unfairness of this world is affecting them.

I'm also tired of how unfairness influences my life, my health, my career, my relationships.

Many people say money can't bring you happiness. Well, what it can bring you is very close to that: power. And power gives you the opportunity to say 'fuck all' and do as you please, live as you please, freed from the restrictions and limitations of a 'normal/average' life.

Another 'Birthday Melancholy' Post

I think it's turned into a tradition, me being depressed and miserable on the month of my birthday (and in general -don't be fooled- but October is even worse) and sharing that negativity with you.
Which is funny (?) and bizarre, as I actually love the month of my birthday. It's the spooky month after all, the month of Halloween. It's also when the unbearable heat of the summer dissolves and I can finally wear makeup without having to worry that my face will melt.

But every year same old story: I think about my life, what I have not accomplished, especially compared to my peers, and how sucky my life is. I also get paralysed by my time and death phobias and generally experience an avalanche of negative thoughts.

So, for this year's menu we have:

• Career failure (or shall I say absence?)
• Health Issues 
• Uncertainty of own future 
• Lack of motivation/goals
• And of course, asking if this life is worth living

Above all though, I reminisce the year that has passed, and what has happened during it.

Let's see...

I received my MA degree; two of my best friends moved out of London; I lived in a house with the worst housemates I've experienced so far, being bullied and attacked constantly; I got a good -and hard- part time job for which I was underpaid; I had severe financial issues -some of which were due to being underpaid; I had my second year anniversary with my lovely boyfriend; my health problems escalated to the point where I had to quit my job leave UK -and my lovely boyfriend behind; I had issues with my computer which cost money to fix, and weren't fixed properly either; my health kept -and still is- deteriorating; a family friend died; and the icing on the cake, universe's birthday present to me, YouTube deleting my channel (for details on that read this, this, this, this, but above all this).

Yeah. Doesn't sound too good, right?

And here I am, contemplating if I can handle another year like the previous one. Every year my sole wish is that the following year won't be as bad as the previous one.

E.g. Last year, just before I turned 28, I was in despair. I had gone through hell. From struggling with my Masters degree, to suffering financially, to having my macbook stolen from my room in Uni Halls -whilst I was in the building-, to being severely cyberbullied, to almost being physically assaulted by a catcaller...

So, my sole wish was for my 28th year on this planet to not be as bad as my 27th year.

Nope. It somehow managed to be worse. Way worse.

Since I remember myself, with the exception of very few years, each year has been worse than the one preceding it. And we reached that point where that terrifies me.

Because, if my 29th year is even slightly worse than my 28th year, it will be more than I can handle. My 28th year has already surpassed my coping levels, which resulted in me being bedbound for almost 4 months. 

I know there's not much I can do about this. We have no control over our futures, and sometimes not even over our present actions resulting in those futures -depending on the circumstances. Therefore, I know that there's no way to predict nor control the unknown, my future. 

And that my friend is hard to come to terms with, especially suspecting the amount of suffering I'll have to go through. 

I don't know what to do, I don't know how to prepare for the storm that is coming. I know it's coming. I just hope this year will spare me, even a little bit, and this time my 29th year won't be as bad as my 28th. Even a little bit better is a lot better to me.

I can only hope at this point after all...

Heartbreak

How do you continue living after heartbreak?

What are the steps to move on?

Many people have asked me the above questions over the years.

Most of the time I told them to try and distract themselves and that with time they'd be able to move on.

But some even though they tried to follow my advice couldn't move on after years.

So now, when people ask me... I tell them to just try to take care of themselves.
I tell them to see a therapist. I tell them to try and focus on surviving each day.

Because that's the most honest and realistic advice I could give.

Real life investment

You invest on someone and you expect everything is going to go alright.
You expect things won't change.

But then, people change, and things change along with them.

And then, you're alone. Because your investment failed and was a waste of time.

And you're left with a broken heart and a void you'll never be able to fill.

Depression.

Let me tell you a few things about depression:

Depression is a vampire. It drains you of all your positive feelings.

Depression is unexpected. It can come to you when you think you’re happy, having the best time of your life.

Depression is a rapist. It forces itself into you and you have no control over when it will be satisfied by your pain enough and stop.

Depression is darkness. It’s the tunnel that has no end, no hope of light.

Depression is that monster that lurks in the shadows of your soul and waits patiently until it feels there are enough shadows for it to make a move on you.

Depression is a thief. It steals your friends, your lovers, your family, your job, your education and anything/anyone you hold dear or important.

Depression is a state, it’s a condition. It’s not a feeling, but it consists of many feelings like: agony, pain, sadness, feeling as a failure, feeling suicidal etc.

Depression is an eternal battle. It’s not curable. You have to learn to live with it. You have to embrace the fact that you’re always going to suffer from it, and try to learn how to manage it.

It’s really important to talk about depression. Bottling up your feelings and going through depression on your own is extremely hard on yourself.
Ask for help. Talk to a friend, family member, stranger on the street/internet, therapist, counselor, support group...

Because always remember:
Sharing and asking for help are depression’s worst enemies. 
When you face depression with the assistance of others, its strength and control towards you reduces.

ps. Many times being suicidal doesn’t mean you necessarily want to commit suicide. It means you just can’t take all this pain and negative feelings anymore. So don’t try to end your life! There are free services that are there to help you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Do you need help? (some useful links):
-http://www.befrienders.org/
-http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html
-http://www.samaritans.org/
-http://www.depressionalliance.org/information/useful-contacts
-http://www.swlstg-tr.nhs.uk/advice-support/for_service_users/telephone_helplines/

Random Thoughts XXX

If you realised with how much intensity I feel everything, you'd never hurt me again.

Random Thoughts XXIX

December didn't start off well.But then again neither did any other month of this fucking year.And here we go again, right at the end of the year reminiscing about past years, saying how much better our life was and how much hope we have in the new year...No mofos. I have no fucking hope for the new year.It's probably gonna be even worse than this fucking year. Which is hard, but still doable.So fuck all.

Random Thoughts XXVIII

It's sad you know.

When this world forces you to burry your humanity.

It's really sad.

Random Thoughts XXVI

You wouldn't last in my brain for one second.

Confessions of a Rotten Heart (4)

It’s just that I’ve always been the one to support;

the one being there or others.

So when it’s me being in the receiving end,

I just can’t accept that role.

You know, I’m trembling right now.

My vision is a bit blurry,

So I had to take my glasses off.

It’s harder than usual to breathe.

I’m listening to all the songs I shouldn’t listen to.

I’m diving into darkness;

the void, despair and agony.

I kinda missed it.

Why do people let the monster inside them feed off their misery?

It’s enticing. Such an intense feeling can be extremely alluring.

So instead of being empty, you’d rather suffer.

Depression is a way of expression.

Random Thoughts XXI

And then you realised that you can't fill that void inside you no matter how hard you try to trick yourself into doing so.
Pretentious actions, virtual attractions...
It all ends the same.

I can't get over it

I can't get over it.

I don't think I will ever be able to let go... of these moments, of the memories, of those amazing years I spent in my university campus.

I said I would go again, but I have not managed to bring myself to visit. I told myself it was because I didn't have the time... But look at me, I got plenty of time. Between panicking for uni and procrastinating I could spend a Sunday evening there. But still, I don't know if I can.

I can feel tears dancing around my cheeks. I can feel my heart aching. Every time I go through the pictures of my years in my university halls a sweet melancholy numbs my body.

How am I supposed to move on? I can't forget. I don't want to forget.
I don't think anything in my life can top up these two last years of my ba studies, the university halls experience ...

I know life changes. I know people change. People move on. My mates moved on. I moved on. But did I?

I never -not even for a split second- stopped hoping things would turn back to the way they were back then. It's not possible anymore, I can see it. Nevertheless I'm still clinging onto that idea.

The utopia of my uni years.

I think that's the problem. I lived, I experienced utopia and now I can't be happy and content with anything less than that. I am having a good time, I am appreciative, yet there is always a little shadow lurking inside me reminding me of the dream, the life I lived as a ba student in London, the university halls...
That protected environment, that magical forest that ensured me and my mates would be back together every september, altogether in one building.

I need closure but I sure don't know how to get it.

*that picture is the most iconic picture of my university halls for me; it's the view from my window.

Unexpected

I'm always glad that I can write.

I can write about the things I don't want to forget, I can write about the things that happen to me or the process through which the prism of my thoughts filters my reality.

It's never an easy thing to go through a comedown (feel free to interpret the word on your own way). Sometimes it's harder to overcome one than others.

On my way home I was truly sad that I'd have to return to reality. My xmas holidays have been dreamy so far, but I'd have to take uni seriously from now on; I'd have to face the return of the housemates I'm not really fond of; I'd have to reduce my social life to a minimum -to my mates' dismay; I'd have to forget about the emotional void devouring my soul; I'd have to accept several things were going to change in different aspects of my life without me having any control over them...

I was drowning. Even before I got on the bus home I felt like shit -to put it simply. Even though I was surrounded by people whom I adore and I know they care and love me, even when these people tried to cheer me up, there was a dark cloud all around my head. And as I always do in these situations -when I'm having a comedown/bipolar moment/panik attack or anything of the sort- I chose to leave and be by myself for fear of hurting someone of these people or making them worry.

The funny thing about expectations is that they're a joke. I expected I'd be feeling shit, cry on my way home -or at home- and sink into depression. However two totally irrelevant incidents took place in front of my eyes that left me smiling on the rest of my way home in the past hour.

As I was on the tube trying to blank out the family sitting next to and opposite to me something strange caught my eye. The sister (around 5 years old) hugged lovingly her brother (around 2 years old) who was  on the baby troller thingy. The mom yelled: "Aw how touching! Look at that! Some sibling love over there!". And the little girl approached her brother again and hugged him once more. Then they both started giggling and they looked so happy. It was so simple for them. Anyone who knows me a bit knows I hate children. Therefore I was not impressed by the children's age, but by their quality to find happiness in such weird ways.

After a couple of minutes I had to take another tube line to get me home. As I was waiting for the train I noticed a tall handsome guy who was dancing discreetly while whispering the lyrics of the song he was listening to. I realised a couple of  people were giving him evil stares even though he didn't make any noise or weird movements. After I got off the train I saw he lived on the same street as I do. He was singing quite loudly a cheesy Spice Girls song on his way home. He looked so happy, so content and so utterly brave doing so. I was mesmerized by his smile. A pure proof of enjoyment.

Why did I even notice these two incidents? Why did I even care?

Because I realised I was blinded for a moment. I let negativity and darkness cover my light. I let the shadow of self doubt and anxiety to erase -even momentarily- all the good moments and people in my life. It's so easy to forget you know. Life itself can be a trap sometimes. A trap to push you onto a routine of boredom, anxiety, sadness and misery.

Peace,
Lara



p.s. I got to thank my Goddess, Leo, for putting up with my emotional roller coaster today and making me smile <3