putting myself together
I am refueled by the words of others. Sometimes I just need to hear "No you are not an idiot, and yes you have a brain."
It's easy to suddenly become very self-conscience and overly aware of yourself. Today I was walking and found myself overly aware of my body. My pants felt too tight. My movements felt awkward. I was aware for once that I was not invisible and felt uncomfortable in my own skin. Like when you're dancing and you are suddenly aware of it, and every move you pull becomes forced. If you let yourself get lost in the music your body surprises you with rhythm.
I am triggered by small things. A small comment can be passed off or taken the wrong way.
If someone tells me I've put on a tiny bit of weight I might suddenly feel as if I'm bulging out everywhere.
It's not vanity, or being pre-occupied with what other people think, but suddenly focusing in on something. It's like looking too closely at an Impressionist's painting and seeing large globs of paint. Monet's beautiful lilly pads are suddenly lost and the bigger picture is gone.
It works both ways. You can feel ugly for days, and out of the blue a stranger tells you you're beautiful and the spell is broken.
Thanks for the words of encouragements. My life seems to depend on words sometimes.
I'm putting myself together. Life is too tough to feel fragile and broken.
Leaving you with some words from Sylvia Plath, live from my very own bookshelf:
It's easy to suddenly become very self-conscience and overly aware of yourself. Today I was walking and found myself overly aware of my body. My pants felt too tight. My movements felt awkward. I was aware for once that I was not invisible and felt uncomfortable in my own skin. Like when you're dancing and you are suddenly aware of it, and every move you pull becomes forced. If you let yourself get lost in the music your body surprises you with rhythm.
I am triggered by small things. A small comment can be passed off or taken the wrong way.
If someone tells me I've put on a tiny bit of weight I might suddenly feel as if I'm bulging out everywhere.
It's not vanity, or being pre-occupied with what other people think, but suddenly focusing in on something. It's like looking too closely at an Impressionist's painting and seeing large globs of paint. Monet's beautiful lilly pads are suddenly lost and the bigger picture is gone.
It works both ways. You can feel ugly for days, and out of the blue a stranger tells you you're beautiful and the spell is broken.
Thanks for the words of encouragements. My life seems to depend on words sometimes.
I'm putting myself together. Life is too tough to feel fragile and broken.
Leaving you with some words from Sylvia Plath, live from my very own bookshelf:
posted by Gillian Young at 6:44 PM
3 Comments:
So i have no idea who you are, I just came across your blog randomly, but Sylvia Plath has some great poetry and you seem to have a way with words yourself
Just stopping by.
I'm a friend of Wilkinson, and I read your blog often. I absolutly love it. You definatly have a way with words.
Cheers.
Georgia
http://www.hellojed.net
Hi again.
Thanks for the comment. Glad you enjoy the site.
You're totally right about beauty. It's such a fragile subject, and as they says "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".
There are so many places in the world made beautiful simply by their overwhelming character.
I supposed my post was more a potshot at arrogant teens, than a critique of beauty itself.
When I start writing, I get an incredible high where every word I spin is gold, and all of my opinions are original and right. Then, when I come to fourty five minutes later, I find I've wirtten something incredibly arrogant.
Anyways, I think I've gone on long enough, don't you?
Cheers,
Georgia
http://www.hellojed.net
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