Thoughts...

- The unexpected sun we've been experiencing round here recently has done me good. Getting out of the house and spending Sunday afternoon clearing leaves up at my Grandma's house has also done me good. I felt that I was clearing away more than just leaves...

- Can somebody remind me to never moan about friends? Seriously? Because there's something really stupid about moaning about friends when you have friends who do things like go out and buy you a present to cheer you up (the mug) and then bring you a special bun. The adjective I would choose to describe a friendship such as this is rich. It's the sort of friendship that feels satisfying, and the more you put into it the more you get back in return. There is something wonderful about a friendship formed under such odd circumstances - it was a moment where two people are thrown together by the way life seems to be working in that one, single, tiny period of time... yet they stick together. It was a moment where you can feel there is something different occurring, something that will stay with you. 

- I should probably stop reading It's Not Me, It's You for the second time in three months and carry on reading the two books I haven't touched since January. But I just can't.

- I needed some sort of artistic release last night. Seriously, if anybody happens to need a bookmark, let me know. I have a ton of card and craft paper specifically for the purpose of making them. 
(You don't need to know that the primary reason for making them last night was because I couldn't find a bookmark for the book mentioned in point 3...)

- I only have one lesson tomorrow, the other two have been cancelled due to trips. It seems entirely pointless going in to register then go away and work on coursework. Sigh. Never mind.    

- My next door neighbour is awesome. Just throwing that one out there. 

Besos ♥
Rachel 

"When your hope has been denied you, I will walk beside you, carry on."

Wash it away

If you know me (or even if you don't), you might know how much of an obsession I have about the book 'It's Not Me, It's You'. If you're my friend Liz in particular, you'll know this...

Anyway, when I flicked the light off last night and sat in bed, unable to sleep and with a whole host of thoughts bombarding my head, I stopped for a minute. I couldn't stop thinking about one thing: a quote I had been reading prior to going to bed.

"Eventually entire landscapes will be formed and re-formed by the relentless waters. In centuries to come, the spot on which I am sitting won’t even exist, never mind the problems which occupy my mind as I sit here."

As with every other quote I'm likely to be mentioning at the moment, this one comes from 'It's Not Me, It's You' (my favourite book at the moment). I texted it to my friend Jess this morning after reading something she wrote about being nervous about something she had to do today. But aside from spreading the sense those words make (to me, at least) about a bit, the quote really spoke to me. 

Priorities, and so worries, will change with time. It was weird, because it was suddenly like everything in life made sense. Weeks and weeks of paranoia and depression and confusion, and suddenly everything seemed clear. Why? Because it's true. If we were to travel forwards in time and find me sitting on my bed, worrying about the same mundane burdens that my life is filled with now, I would be highly surprised. 

There's something comforting in knowing that this is true - that this time next year I could be sitting in the same place, but with the worries that haunt my mind now non-existant. And it had some sort of unconscious yet profound impact on my day today, because nothing about it was bad. It was sunny, and warm, and nice. Liz and I sat outside the common room and had a picnic after giving a talk to some Y11s and discussed love and life and everything in between. I saw my English teacher, who reassured me about my coursework. I had a hilarious conversation with Ester that resulted in a strange feeling of motivation. And, just to add in a bit of weirdness, Jade spent Psychology quacking at me and Helen.

How can I complain about all of that? I can't. Not really. The metaphorical relentless waters constantly washing over my life have appear to have cleared the debris from the sand and the surface is neater now. There's really nothing to complain about in that...

Besos ♥
Rachel 

Panic

Jaume Plensa at the YSP, 2011

pan·ic 

n.

1. A sudden, overpowering terror, often affecting many people at once.

2. A sudden widespread alarm concerning finances, often resulting in a rush to sell property: a stock-market panic.

3. Slang One that is uproariously funny.

adj.

1. Of, relating to, or resulting from sudden, overwhelming terror: panic flight.

2. Of or resulting from a financial panic: panic selling of securities.

3. often Panic Mythology Of or relating to Pan.

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/panic

 

'Often affecting many people at once' is the part of this definition that concerns me. It's been an interesting couple of weeks - last week was one of those weeks where you're wandering around in a stressed-out sort of manner all week. It was also the sort of week where you find yourself having to leave a building because you think you're going to have some sort of nervous breakdown in front of random tutor groups and a couple of NHS reps. 

A friend texted me twice within the hour today asking ''what's up?'', followed by ''are you okay?''. I couldn't reply. I didn't know how to. I'm not OK, but I'm not not OK either. I'm in a weird in-between state of mind where I just feel panicked all of the time. And I know people are just caring, but when I'm faced with ''are you OK?'', I don't know what I'm supposed to say. 'Yes', probably, but then I'd be lying.

 

And then there are so many people who are there, but in some moments it just feels like I need my space and I'm being crowded. 

It's odd, though, because life at the moment is a constant juxtaposition of happiness and sadness. Like, for instance...

I spent half of Tuesday afternoon crying, then Tuesday evening seeing this wonderful man in Leeds with Sophie and Poppy. I mean, it overtakes the rubbish bits, but still, what an odd day... (I also now have a new favourite song that I embarrassed myself asking him about, worth it though.) I think it's possible that he's my favourite person ever. Anybody who stands on a stage and makes jokes about the pronunciation of 'an onion' is a winner in my book...

Everything just feels weird and it feels like something major is about to happen, but that we're not quite there yet. And I'm not sure how much more of this weird cycle I can endure before I'm just going to snap. There's nowhere to write it all, and there's nobody who will understand it all. I'm just tired of feeling awful and I'm tired of thinking about everything. 

So to go back to those questions, I don't know. I really don't.

Besos ♥
Rachel 

Thinking...

(This was written last Saturday and I never got chance to finish it. I didn't want to just leave it unpublished so here it is...)

Today's post is fuelled mainly by the lingering happiness following an evening spent with Jess yesterday. 

It was the sort of evening that did not need to be captured in photographs and Facebook updates - it wasn't earth-movingly brilliant, nor was it the sort of evening that anybody would be jealous of. But that's the point.

It's easy to look at (literally, taking the Facebook example a little further) what everybody else is doing and feel disillusioned. They're all out, having a great time, and you're at home, in your pyjamas, wondering what happened to 'being young'. It's easy to feel like you need more from your life.

What I realised yesterday, while driving alone in the dark having dropped Jess of at home, was that the 'more' factor in life doesn't need to come from something so big, but rather from something so ordinary. Like sitting on my bed and talking for hours, or flicking through holiday photos again. 

People seem to make a big deal out of being eighteen here in the UK - it's like because 18 is the legal age for drinking alcohol, everybody feels the urge to go out and get drunk every single weekend. And for what? A hangover and fuzzy memories of being in a dingy club in your local town (any local folks will probably be thinking of one place in particular while reading this)? Thanks, but I'll pass.

I'm happy with the sitting in and doing nothing with a friend feeling that comes from doing just that. There's something equally as exciting about being able to do that. There's so much good in the fact that you don't need any other ingredients adding to the delicate mixture that is your friendship.

[Unless that other ingredient is a Josh Groban CD, which is always welcome, and especially when driving through a sleepy village in the dark]

But you know that pure, unaffected, untouched feeling of happiness? I found it yesterday. The sort of happiness that has you driving alone with a welcome, but very missed, smile upon your face that speaks of your day and the experiences you've had. And I think it was mainly because of Jess.


Love you, JOA.

Besos ♥
Rachel