Hiatus is Over (AKA the one in which our heroine makes an unexpected comeback)

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So. It’s been a while. I’ve been staring at this blank page for hours, typing a sentence, then deleting and browsing various social media for 20 minutes before trying again. But I still don’t really know how to get back into this. I have a lot of feelings, as always, so I’m not really sure where to start.

Let’s start with time. Time is super weird. I say that so often it’s what I suppose could be referred to as my motto. And for a time, and even now to certain extent, they were the words I lived my life by. The older I get the weirder time gets, and the more ignorant of its passing I am the more at peace I feel. Which is probably ridiculous. After a period of time moving very rapidly, it’s odd to now be at a point where time feels rather stagnant. I see it flowing all around me for most other people in my life, which in a way highlights the lack of time in my life at the moment. I’m still not sure how to feel about all of that, but I think I’m starting to realise I’ll ever know how I feel about time, and that’s okay. Time will keep doing it’s weird thing and not giving a shit what I feel or think about its movements. And that’s oddly comforting.

Let’s talk about thinking too. I overthink a lot. I over examine everything to the minutest detail, till I drive myself half insane. but over the past couple months, I’ve started to notice I’m not thinking things through at all half the time. My brain feels so empty both of worry and whatever the opposite of worry is, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Seems the only thing I’m overthinking at the moment is my lack thereof.

Let’s also talk about journeys. I’ve been reading a lot of Hans Christian Anderson fairy tales recently, and I’ve noticed a common theme of a journey. Character’s – such as Gerda in the Snow Queen – go on long journeys to find something that has been lost to them. The people they meet on the road try to stop them, but eventually they help, and the obstacles are overcome and the day is usually won. But not always, sometimes things go to hell in a handbasket and there is little you can do about it. I like that even in fairy tales that can be the case, it makes me feel better while things go a bit strange in my real life.

I don’t really know what this all means. I know it isn’t particularly cohesive, but I wanted to lay out some of my weird feelings, so we can start again from scratch. I’m staying home for a year, so hopefully I’ll have the time to keep this up more constant, but life is strange and who knows where it’ll take me. Take us.

See you soon,

Emily

xxx

 

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Welcome Home Persephone (AKA as the one in which Emily continues to be a romantic nerd)

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So, I think I’ve fallen in love with the Spring. It goes like this;

as the almost golden sun drips through the blossom trees, or drenches the sky and the fields in haze, I am lost in a place that my brain cannot perceive as real. Because to grow up, I had to teach myself that reality is never as bright as the world in my head. So, of course, I must be dreaming when I’m sat gazing out the window at the stretches of luminous fields that curve up to make hills that were obviously painted as concept art for the Shire. And so, because its a dream I don’t mind smiling like a huge dork, and singing out of key for everyone in the street to hear.

And even when it rains and the skies turn an overbearing grey, I don’t despair any more, because I know that it isn’t going to drain away my energy like vampiric January. There’s a warm hand on my back, reminding me this isn’t all there’s going to be, pushing me forward. So although I may not smile, I don’t bury my hope in a chest at the bottom of the sea. Just maybe under my bed.

So I’ll wear my prettiest dress, uncaring if I freeze to death.

And I’m praying that if I keep pretending it’s warmer than it is, the spring will always stay here, by my side. Which makes me realise that I don’t know what I’m going to do when the autumn strolls in and gives my joy a sleeping pill. I push the thought to the back of my mind, pull out my sunglasses from the obscure hole they were hiding in.

That’s the sum and total of it. Me and Demeter should start a support group. Imagine the t-shirts.

Thanks for taking the time to read my rambling thoughts. It’s all a bit like unravelled, tangled up wool at the moment, I’m just trying to tug on the right thread. Give me time, I’ll get it.

See you soon,

Emily

xxx

Nostalgic (AKA Emily vs the Mental Breakdown™)

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And so it begins. We all brace ourselves with coffee so strong it will probably cause brain damage and enough coloured pens to recreate a Monet painting, and collectively descend into revision hell. I’ll be honest, I have not descended quite as deeply as I should have at this point, but such is the consequence of being a chronic procrastinator.But even when you procrastinate, the stress and panic of preparing for exams, no matter what age you are, can be overwhelming at times.

I’ve always found that around this time of year, and around any difficult or stressful time, I find myself becoming increasingly nostalgic.

Nostalgia can be an awful thing. I have certainly found that dwelling in my past, and most likely remembering it to be much more golden than it actually was, creates an almost heart-breaking sense of discontent with my present. The future itself becomes insignificant, and living day to day feels pointless, as no matter how hard you work you can never get those effervescent days back. This form of nostalgia is in many ways toxic, eating away at your sense of purpose and self-esteem. And typically it perpetuates itself, as you become more discontent with your present you rely more on happy memories of your past, and so become more dis-engaged with what is happening right now. It’s a noxious circle of self-destruction.

Now I know that the dictionary defines nostalgia as ‘a sentimental longing or wistful affection for a period in the past’, but I believe that it is far more complex concept than that. Nostalgia, for me at least, is a form of escapism. And escapism doesn’t necessarily need to perpetuate the negativity that motivates your need for escape. We should try to be ‘nostalgic’ for our future, rather than for our past. I find it easiest to do this on my bus journeys, listening to music and looking above the towns to the hills in the distance. The stress of work becomes less of a dead weight when you remind yourself that is there is something beyond it. And no mater what it’s going to be, it’s certainly going to be different, which should be exciting! The past can never provide that kind of potential.

Good luck to everyone studying at the moment, I hope you maintain your sanity, whatever way you choose to do that! And never forget that there are hills on the horizon.

See you soon,

Emily

xxx