My Little World

This is a difficult subject for me, moods and habits. But I think it will be good for me to share a bit, though probably not as much as I could.

Here’s the thing: my emotions are INTENSE. In general, they are centered around sorrow, love, dissatisfaction, hesitation, and self-hatred. At this point in my life, I am a very sad person. Most of the time, I can keep myself together during the day, but at night I tend to fall apart. Once everyone else in the house goes to bed, I wallow in my insomniac discontent. This isn’t by choice. If I could, I’d drop off to sleep and let it all play out in my dreams, but it takes hours past the time I decide to go to bed to actually get to sleep. Instead I am flooded with emotion and become completely restless. On a good night, I can sit in bed and read a book until I can no longer keep my eyes open. On a bad night I am forced to scribble the constant flow of thoughts on paper to keep my brain from exploding, or get up and pace angrily, wanting to rip something to pieces. The other night I took the wallet I recently replaced and cut at it with scissors until I could tear the rest of it apart with my bare hands. It felt good…in a scary sort of way.

There are too many negative thoughts in my head. I overanalyze everything. I think, rethink, and think again about a thousand thoughts at once. I am an obsessive thinker and a negative self-talker. ‘Happy’ is not in my vocabulary. I can be ‘fine’, ‘okay’, even ‘good’, but happy? Not yet. Not right now. I cry so much more than I ever used to, over what I used to think were the most stupid things. When did I become the person that cries listening to ‘Bleeding Love’? When did I become the person that listens to a song like ‘Bleeding Love’ all the way through????

I am a very isolated person. I am introverted and generally not interested in having a bunch of friends or a traditional social life, but I am completely alone, physically. I don’t have a single friend in my town (or my state) that I can call and hang out with. Go for a walk. Watch a movie. The people I love are all over the country. All over the world. I feel so blessed to know and be close to people I would never have met were it not for the internet, but the downside of that is missing them. Like I said, my emotions are intense. When I miss someone, I miss them HARD.

And when I love someone, platonically or otherwise, I love them with everything I am, without condition, with complete admiration, and complete bewilderment as to why I could ever expect the same or anything close in return.

I feel like a failure at life. Yes, I’m chronologically young, but there are so many my age and younger that are doing so much more than I ever have. Besides, age does not dictate how much time we have left. I’m terrified that I’ll die without having come anywhere near the adventurous life that I long for. Yet I’m too scared to plunge into that life.

Everything I’ve talked about here and more is constantly running through my head. When I’m especially anxious, I’ll find myself biting my fingernails. When I’m thinking about the composition of something (like this entry), I bite/suck on my lower lip. I also tend to peel the skin on my lip…it’s currently feeling pretty raw.

And even in all my thinking and obsessing about my realities, I have a habit of indulging in my imagination. From picturing what it will be like when I meet friends in person for the first time (please don’t judge the merits of such friendships), to playing out my dream of acting in movies, safely in my mind.

So, there’s some of it.

Portrait of me, taken by Ross Reyes

UPDATE:

We're supposed to find the positive and I almost completely left that out...Well, I do like my active imagination, it plays a huge role in my creativity, which I cherish. Destroying things in the middle of the night? I don't think it's too unhealthy. It's an outlet, and one where no one gets hurt. The sadness...I am working HARD on getting past this. There has been progress, and I have one or two wonderful people supporting me in my journey. You know who your real friends are when you're at your worst and it's cool to see that there really are some amazing people in this world. And the intensity of my emotions...the sadness may be awful, but my way of loving is beautiful to me, and I wouldn't ever change it.

Basically, my HS trait is the root of everything I am. It is the source of my artistry, my ability to love deeply, my empathy, finely-tuned intuition, and introversion (there are extroverted HSPs, though it is more rare), just to name a few notable characteristics. There is also a ‘tell me your secrets’ way about me that I attribute to the trait. Even as a young child, I was a confidant to my parents. A secret-keeper. I was blessed with what seemed (and still seems, among many of my peers) to be the ability to naturally possess a higher understanding of many things in life. That has also lead to the inability to understand what’s so important about things like money, for instance. I really don’t get money. I have little interest in it and it’s difficult for me to understand why it’s so necessary…why we can’t just live, and function, and play, for the sake of peace and contentment. Logically, I understand; it would be impossible for enough of humanity to be so selfless in order for the world to work. This does little for my monetary ambitions.

I also attribute my tendency to keep the company of older adults (more often men) to the trait. I relate better to the generation(s) ahead of myself, and I don’t easily tolerate the drama/stereotypical female qualities of many women. I often find myself judged and rejected by women and people my own chronological age. In high school, female teachers often had problems with me, telling me I wasn’t good enough to be in their classes, or that I’d ‘actually’ be a good student if I just ‘tried’ (I had a 3.6 GPA), while most male teachers (unless they were pretty fresh from college; then they acted like the women) picked up on my artistic abilities and unusual understanding of people and the world, and treated me with great respect.

I love being HSP. It can be so difficult at times, in a society where it’s good to be ‘outgoing’ and bad to be ‘shy’, but this is who I am, and for the most part, I love who I am. Honestly, there is no end to the topic of the HSP and how it affects and defines me, so I’ll end it with this poem I wrote about a year ago, shortly after being told of the trait, then I’ll move on to other things:

There’s a lot more to learn about the HSP trait, so feel free to Google.

DEPRESSION, AGORAPHOBIA, AND ANXIETY

I was diagnosed with depression little over two years ago, though I believe I’ve had it since around the time I hit puberty. I am melancholy by nature, there’s always a little bit of sadness in me, but I see that as a good thing. Sadness allows me to see things others don’t, and to appreciate everything around me that much more, but I was progressively more sad, hating myself, and finding little joy in the things I used to love. I was on medication for my depression for about a year and a half, starting with one type, but after a few months I was experiencing very graphic nightmares, like being a teenaged girl who killed her parents because they wouldn’t let her see her boyfriend, and then slicing at her own throat to make it look like an intruder did it. I was then switched to different meds and that helped. I also have Seasonally Affected Depression, which resulted in having to double my dosage in the Winter. Around February of last year, I began seeing a counselor to gain an even better handle on my issues…but she didn’t get it. All of our sessions were spent with her in awe of all that was odd about me and asking me questions in order to simply figure out what I really ‘was’. I wasn’t getting help; I was entertaining her. I have since gone off the pills.

I believe I suffer more from an anxiety disorder and agoraphobia than traditional depression. The root of what keeps me huddled in the house, accomplishing very little in comparison to what people my age ‘should’ be doing, is fear and self-consciousness. It’s hard for me to even go for a walk without the fear of being stared at, looking stupid, doing something wrong. I have very few friends, and absolutely none within a hundred miles of where I live because I am afraid of going out. I don’t like interacting with people. I feel awkward and stupid. I hide it very well (in a crowd I become the sarcastic comic relief, for instance), and people tend to think I’m comfortable where I am, and possibly a little snobbish. I don’t answer the phone very much because I’m afraid of saying something stupid, or not being able to speak at all.

This year I’ve had some of the lowest lows of my life, being 21, now jobless, unable to take just any job because of my introversion, anxiety, and agoraphobia, I feel very useless, and very much like a failure. I should be traveling the world, or going to school (I should *want* that, right? That’s what normal people do, they go to school and they love it). I shouldn’t be living with my parents, searching for a reason to leave the house. I should be able to make a freaking phone call, go to the movies by myself, live away from mommy and daddy for more than a week without freaking out and having to move back home (true story, and I only moved about 8 blocks away). I am more grown up than this, so why can’t I do these things???

I also shouldn’t be comparing my life to those of others. There is no happiness to be found in such things. I am not like all those other people. It’s true that I have few friends, but the ones I do are SO special, and they love me. I’m lucky to be so close to my parents that even at my age, I can truly miss not seeing them all the time. I’m me, I’m doing the best I can, and I’m making progress in working toward the life I want for myself.

THOUGHTS:

I tell people that I am never bored because I am ALWAYS thinking about a million things. My brain is constantly racing from thought to idea to imagination to creation to fear to want to worry…and everything in between. When I sleep, it all carries over to strange dreams that would be disturbing to many (I always dream, and I always remember my dreams), and when I wake up, not a beat is missed. It’s exhausting and possibly a reason for my lowered energy levels. I am working on gaining control over my more toxic thoughts like my negative self-talk and unwarranted worry. I would like to do or say something someday without analyzing it until I find something to feel stupid or embarrassed about one day. But I do appreciate some of the way I am. I’m observant, generally quick witted, a fast learner, and insightful, which I take pride in. It’s better than being empty-headed for sure.

(VERY) MILD CLARIVOYANCE/ESP, AND INTUITION:

I think it depends on your belief system whether or not this is related to mental capacity or something more divine. I guess I stand in the middle on this issue. I think God created us all with the ability to do/see/sense extraordinary things. I think it’s stronger in some people, just like some people are better at math than others.

Anyway, I have had my brushes with such extraordinary things. I experience déjà vu more often than most, I have had one ‘vision’ that I can recall, and dreams that have come true in some senses. A lot of this has dwindled as I’ve gotten older, which makes me sad, but what has remained strong is my intuition and empathy. I’m very good at knowing right away what kind of person someone is, picking up on their feelings, fears, sadness, awkwardness, motives, but I do my best not to judge solely on what I pick up on and let the person prove me right or wrong. I think of this as a tool of self-preservation and preparedness rather than a way of judging people. I really love this trait, though the empathy (feeling the emotions of another) can be very difficult, like when a dear friend is sad.

CREATIVITY, ETC:

I’m hoping a future topic of this group will focus on creativity alone, so I’m going to try not to be too elaborate with this. Suffice it to say I’m a VERY visual thinker, ranging from photographic, so cinematic, to surrealism. I am very grateful for the way I think, I love it. The fact that I’m so visual is obviously a lead to my art, and my art is my life…

Having been quite emotionally and therefore creatively drained the past few days, I’m going to be loosely modeling my first entry in the Beautiful: Warts and All Project after our leader, johnnynotsid. I don’t think I’ll hit the mark completely as far as uncovering positive, but it’s the first try after all. From here, I hope to find my own unique way to contribute…

BACKGROUND:

My name is Shelly. I’m a 21 year-old German/English/other origins undetermined female, 5’2” tall, 127.5lbs on a good day, around 135lbs on a bad day, with brown hair and mostly brown eyes. I have one tattoo on the back of my right shoulder, and double-pierced ears.

THE PSYCHOLOGY:

Oftentimes, I’m not too thrilled with myself. I’m the kind of person that focuses on the bad and forgets about the good. I’ll be taking a big step outside my comfort zone by letting you all in to see what exactly it is that I hate (and working pretty hard to find the positive in it). From looking through my postings, one may get the impression that I’m pretty confident in my looks; there’s a lot of self-portraits for all to see. But the thing is, you’re only seeing what I want you to see. My self -portraits make me feel in control. You can’t see the weak (double) chin - which you‘ll soon learn about - because I’m holding myself juuuust right. You can’t see that big painful zit because I’ve Photoshopped it out. These photos are me at my best. A few good photos out of thousands I’ve deemed ugly.

Down come the veils of computer edits and flattering light…here I am: exposed.

MY FACE:

People that don’t know me or ‘feel’ me tend to think I’m always angry. I don’t have a natural smile, and my facial expressions are quite subtle. In order to make a noticeable expression, I have to exaggerate my facial muscles, with the general exception of my eyebrows. I can (and often unconsciously) do the single eyebrow lift, which I am oddly proud of. I just like it, and it feels good somehow. I don’t mind my natural ‘frown’, it fits my melancholy, or to borrow the phrase of toimaginetoo, ‘happysad’ demeanor, and frankly, I like that it makes me a little unapproachable since I‘m a slightly agoraphobic introvert. What I don’t like is that certain unwitting people think it’s cute to tell me to smile. It’s often the first thing out of the mouth of anyone trying to hit on me…

THE EYES:

I have big, soulful eyes. I love them. As a child, I wished my eyes were blue. It seemed like everyone commented on someone’s gorgeous baby-blues. To me, blue eyes were a rare jewel and brown eyes were the painfully common and cheap knockoff. But as I’ve grown into who I am, I’ve come to see my brown/gold/green eyes as moody, penetrating, and an extension of my soul. I wear black eyeliner and a bit of black mascara to enhance the ‘drama’ to my eyes, and I like the strength it brings to my face. I’m not much of a traditional female, so ‘soft eyes’ as far as makeup goes is totally unappealing to me.

THE NOSE:

I’m pretty indifferent to my nose. It’s mostly straight, there’s a hint of a bump, and it’s a little round at the tip. It seems pretty prone to clogged pores, gets red fairly easily, and some days it looks a little ‘chubby’ to me, but I think it fits my face well.

THE LIPS:

I have full lips, which I like. I also like that there is a natural, pleasing color to them, and that they don’t really dry out. I’ve only recently started wearing lipstick, but of a shade almost matching my natural color, and still very lightly just to bring them out a bit more. In comparison to my weak chin (coming up next), I think they are a bit ‘meaty’ and prominent, but I also feel they are sexy and feminine.

THE CHIN:

My chin is my silent nemesis. You can’t really call it a chin, actually, it’s more of a slope. The average person would find that they never really think about their chin…it’s just there. But, the absence of one is quite noticeable and is a major source of my self-consciousness and oft-poor self-image. It’s not so bad if I consciously tighten my neck muscles and jut out my jaw a bit, which I have trained myself to do as often as possible, but when I speak, point my head downward, or drop my defenses, a double chin appears and a jaw line disappears. It gives off the image of weakness, unintelligence, and makes me look younger. Being an ‘old soul’, I really hate being perceived as younger and less intelligent and strong than I am. I have considered plastic surgery quite seriously. I’ve had two consultations with separate surgeons in the past three months or so regarding an implant. The thing is, the doctors would prefer to do what’s called a sliding genioplasty which means they would actually cut off my chin bone, bring it forward, and pin it into place. Not only is that SCARY, but if I hate the result, reversing it would be a big deal, if even possible, whereas an implant could just be taken out. I have put the idea on hold for now. In trying to find the positive, I suppose I could say it’s an exercise in accepting myself for who I am, realizing that my body is really just a tool through which my soul operates, and proving the perceptions of others based on my physical appearance wrong, thereby gaining more respect. The photo below is what I look like with my face and jaw relaxed on the left, and a rough Photoshop rendering of my ideal chin on the right (UGH)…

ACNE:

Lately, I’ve been getting hit by waves of acne, which is a big nuisance. I didn’t even have this much acne as a teenager and, like the chin thing, can make me seem younger. Thankfully though, even the extra acne isn’t as bad as a lot of adolescents (my brother had it much worse than I, and still deals with it in his mid-twenties). And as a woman, it’s socially acceptable for me to use all the makeup I want to cover it up, which still isn’t much. Not so bad.

MY BODY:

I’m short and curvy. I like my height and my curves, but I wish my legs were longer, and my torso shorter, as I feel they are slightly out of balance. I have beauty marks (or freckles, or moles - though not raised or hairy -depending on what terms you were raised with) lightly speckled across my body, and I like that. It’s something I got from my be-freckled mother, and I love how she raised us kids to call them beauty marks. I’m not athletically fit, my stomach’s a bit soft and my thighs rub together, but I have a womanly shape and I’m not overweight. I wouldn’t wear a bikini, but I think I rock the structured one-piece…

THE LEGS:

Like I said, I feel my legs are disproportionately short, though probably not noticeably so. I like their shape, and the fact that my leg hairs are pretty fine, so stubble isn’t very visible. I rarely wear shorts, and usually only around the house when I do. I really just like the way I look in jeans better. Speaking of jeans, even the shortest inseam is too long for me, so almost all of my jeans are cuffed if they haven’t been shortened.

I’ll include this here, as really, this part of the body is only the tops of the legs, but I think I have a great butt. It’s shapely and feminine, and balances me our nicely. I have a little bit of junk in my trunk, and that’s cool with me.

THE ARMS/SHOULDERS:

I don’t mind my arms, for the most part. I have a natural muscle mass and strength in them that I take pride in as a woman. There is a couple of discolored patches on the right arm that I’ve had since I was little, and I make it a point to keep an eye on them as potentially sensitive to skin cancer/extra sun damage. I have a bit of chub on the upper arms that ‘spills over’ the elbow when my arms are straight. Like I said in the beginning, I have a small tattoo of my Pomeranian’s paw print on the back of my right shoulder. I LOVE it. Getting the tattoo felt really good, and it came out exactly as I hoped it would. It’s representative of my love for all animals and my kinship with my sweet doggie. For my body, I prefer smaller, more subtle tattoos, as opposed to a sleeve (which I love, but don’t feel is right for me) and I do want more. At this point, I’d specifically like a small ladybug on my wrist or hand, as well as something drawn by my dearest friend...

THE REST:

I have grown to quite like my hair. It’s a nice natural shade of brown, slightly wavy, which makes it easy to enhance the waves, or straighten out, and I’m happy with the length as it grows. I have a lot of hair, but it’s fine hair, so it feels pretty soft and stays shiny, which I enjoy. I just recently put fuchsia streaks in for summer and with my darker hair, it give a gothy look as opposed to a bubblegum look. I enjoy making changes to my hair and experimenting with what compliments my face and my personality.

I’ve got, well, a good-sized chest for my size. As far as femininity, I don’t mind it, but practically, I’d rather the girls were a little smaller. They can get in the way. Mostly, I don’t really think about them though.

I love my hands and feet. Though I am a nail biter (and a toenail biter, it’s true) the nails are never long, or painted, or ‘pretty’, and I’m happy with that. I love the arches of my feet, and the way my toes curl under a bit (I got this from my mother. When she was an infant, her mother took her to the doctor, concerned that her ‘curly toes’ would hinder her ability to walk in the future. The doc offered the option of breaking the toes and resetting him, but he believed they wouldn’t get in the way of walking, which they turned out not to), and I just like feet in general. Regarding my hands, I love my long, slender fingers, the prominent lines, and my short nails. I see my hands as instruments in art, representatives of work and character, and I think mine do a nice job.

I also like my ears. I have attached earlobes, which I am fond of, and fairly thin cartilage, which is quite sensitive. If I lightly run my finger across the ‘rim’ of my ear, it actually hurts. I think that if I were to get my cartilage pierced, it may actually weigh down the ear and make it bend.

I have sensitive skin, though it’s gotten better since I was a child. Walking through a field of tall grass used to leave a rash on my legs. The heat from a shower used to give me a rash on the inside of my arm, etc. Nowadays, I can get rashes from watches and other wrist jewelry, mosquitoes are especially drawn to me, and their bites (and spider bites) get especially swollen, and I’m a bit sensitive to pain. I like the light olive tone to my skin, and the sensitivity matches my highly sensitive soul. The photo below is my hip, not my butt...I just noticed how that could be interpreted wrongly...

Wow. There you go, entry number one. See you next time…

He sits and watches the setting sun

The light, the clouds, the deepening, gripping color

The ending of another eternity

It’s like a secret only he knows, so dear, so personal

He walks along the city streets

His footsteps reverberate only in his ears

The others move so fast, blurred figures through frosted glass

Yet for him, the world is one still snapshot after another

A slowing of time occurs in his head

Leaves float to the ground

And his breath is caught within him

Emotion stirs silently

He feels almost more than he’d like

But he won’t let it go

Sad can be so beautiful, he knows

But joy is the elusive dream

And it’s not only joy she prays he has

But love and wonder and quiet understanding too

No matter what that means for her

Whatever the compromise.

Oh, and I got the apartment. I move in January 1st :)

I want someone to send me flowers. My parents are the only people that have ever sent me flowers…

I want a miracle to happen. Or to at least to get over him.

I want a major (positive) change in my life. Something to take me in a new direction.

I want to be taken seriously by the people I encounter every day. (I feel I’m fairly well-respected on the internet, but in real life? To most people, I’m a kid playing with a camera)

I want a lifetime of free flights to anywhere in the world, any time.

I want my art to support me.

I want a social life.

I want to feel safe with someone that cares for me.

I want the safety and happiness of every single person I care about to be guaranteed.