that green thing

Some brain dump. The inner thoughts of my twisted mind, constantly looking for meaning hoping I’ll find it in things or people. People can’t give you a meaning. They can help you find it. I’m still searching. Surrounded by the most amazing bunch of weirdos. I love them dearly and somehow they give me a little bit of a reason to wake up in a morning. Even though I am terrible at keeping in touch. Chronically online mentally offline. Maybe it’s the post Covid post lockdown lack of social interaction a complex post traumatic social anxiety filled with paranoia and loneliness. If you don’t let people in they can’t disappear or disappoint. But I love my people and don’t want to let them go. Having a tribe is important, crucial almost. I’m greatful for mine. Most of them I met in real life which is scary but it worked out somehow. If 10 years ago you’d told me I’d be searching for connections in real life I’d laugh in your face.

Now the switch flipped and my paranoia screams at me if I have to make friends thought the internets. Something has changed and the energy shifted. It feels weird. Maybe I’m just getting old and finally am realising what my parents warned me about when I was still a child. That sucks. I’d rather be delusional. It seems happier. It’s like my frontal lobe has developed and from the age of 25 the glasses are no more in the shade of pink but grey.

My therapist told me it seems like I have no sense of self or identity I agree with her. I shift and mould into whatever anyone wants me to be so I can feel safe. I rarely let my guard down, but when I do people don’t seem to run and maybe it’s these walls that’s suppose to keep me safe are what’s keeping me in that prison.

As a kid if you were scared of putting stickers on your books or papers you probably have anxiety as an adult. I now I do. I finally put some stickers on my iPads case that my friend gave me. Two of them actually. And my parents. Some mushrooms, an illustration of a punk lady and a unicorn. I’ve always liked unicorns even as a child, maybe because they don’t exist but you let the fantasy fly. These days that fantasy is happening on fabric and occasionally a piece of paper I’ll keep under lock and key. Just like the content from years ago that I’m scared to show because that version of me seems to be long dead and gone.

Who am I without it? Good question.

I don’t know.

Hoodie & Trousers – Killstar // Shoes– UNIF // Green Stone Ring & Necklace’s – Regal Rose // Top – Topshop // Backpack – Nasty Gal

Photography: Darcie