reflections of an unquiet mind

I had a (for me) quite intense and interesting discussion yesterday with someone via twitter. This man posts a lot of quotes and most of them are really good and I agree, but some of them are… I don’t even know which word to use… not for me?!

I don’t automatically like a quote because it is attributed to Buddha, but many people seem to do.

He said, that he is a big enthusiast of the eastern philosophy and Buddhism and I agree, that it’s a very interesting take on life and spirituality. I don’t live under a rock and even though I don’t like talking about religious beliefs, it’s a topic that makes me think a lot.

I grew up in a catholic house. We went to church every Sunday and every Holiday. I was an acolyte (is that the right word? The only equivalent I found in my dictionary is altar boy and I am clearly not a boy!) for a very long time and sang in the church choir as a child and teenager. I went to a catholic private school for girls (in America, that school would be called a highschool), where we had nuns and priests (not many and still) who held classes. A nun was our headmaster. We didn’t have uniforms, but we had rules. No short skirts, no sleeveless tops and no cleavage. It was of course a time, where I was confronted with Christianity, the bible, God…

The moment, I started to realize, that Catholicism and Christianity is not for me, I turned to the opposite – Satanism.

I see people with eyes big as saucers now looking at their screens, but please, read on…

What I found in LaVey’s bible (the Satanic Bible) was something the catholic bible never allowed me. Power over myself. Being proud about who I am. Standing up for my beliefs. Not being pulled down by negativity. And it worked. I was a withdrawn teenager, feared by many girls in my school (as I learned later. I still makes me grin.) but I was strong within myself. I had a lot of crap at home, when I grew up. I mentioned my mom having MS and how we lived with my grand-ma, who basically blamed me for my mother’s illness. Our father, who took the easy way out and left… My mother couldn’t and my grand-ma wouldn’t love me and I was in so much need of love. I still am. I am in a constant search for love and I know, that in my constant search, I tend to oversee those who are near and love me… but that is an other issue.

Satanism helped me escape that and build walls to not let it through. I learned to compartmentalize, if you want to name it. With these people I am like that, at home I act like this and so on and so forth. I learned to wear masks.

Let me just quickly tell you, that I am not someone who roams cemeteries at night. Never did. I think cemeteries are a place of respect. You should respect the dead and their legacy. I never killed (or hurt) an animal or took part in a ‘black Mass’. I never drank blood or what other horror stories you hear. I was never part of a sect. I did it for myself.

But it also wasn’t enough. I let go of it and allowed myself to look for an other belief, an other faith.

A lot of people believe a lot of things that are said in religions (any religions) blindly. And that is the hard part for me. I question everything. Think about it and digest it and sometimes, I simply don’t agree.

Buddhism seems to be the belief that is the closest to my mentality and still… I can’t consume it blindly. If and when I offer myself to a faith or a belief, I think I should be able to voice my disagreement.

I am not sitting in the dark anymore. I am not crouching behind a wall anymore, to hide away my thoughts from the outside world. I don’t want to play dumb anymore. Satanism says: be superior to every other being you meet. That’s not it either. It’s not right! We should be equal. Who has the right to judge you and say you are a lesser person? No one. Not even you yourself.

I asked the person I had that discussion with, if he prays and he answered with ‘yes’. It came across as a strong and decisive ‘yes’ and he asked me in return, if I pray. I took a moment to answer, because praying, as it is ingrained in my mind, is about kneeling down, folding your hands and asking for forgiveness for your sins from Jesus. But I realized, that once I let go of that thought, that yes, I do pray. I ask for guidance and advice, (for signs if you want) from a higher power. I am not sure, if someone hears it though. I also share my thoughts with whoever or whatever guides us on our ways.

But I don’t want to follow something blindly, unquestioningly.

What I can say is, I am not an atheist. I believe… the question is, in what… in who… I believe in nature, I believe in cosmic signs, I believe in fate, I believe in humanity (even if it is very hard some times), I believe, that I am exactly where I am supposed to be at this time in my life, I believe in dreams, I believe in soulmates…

I thought a lot about that brief conversation. He says, his purpose is to spread happiness and show the beauty of this world and that’s what he does.

But what is my purpose?! Is my purpose solely raising my kids and those of other people (since I am a kindergarten teacher)? Is that my ‘calling’. It’s true that I knew from an early age on, that I want to do that. What about the music? Isn’t that my calling? Spreading the music to the world, pestering people with music I think is powerful, who others think it’s crap? What about my writing? Is it the waste of time, my family wants to tell me it is? Or is that my calling?

Am I over-thinking?!

Is it really that bad, if I create my own believes, picking the facts that suit me the most from different faiths? Instead of following the strict path of one religion?

In the end, the only certainty I have, is that I believe in me, in my worth, in my talent and I follow my gut-feeling. Maybe that is just the way I am supposed to live?!

I hate my mood-swings. If I could change one thing about myself it would be those moods. But I can’t. At least not consciously.

Honestly, this morning everything was fine, just like everything was effortless these last past weeks and then bam… during the afternoon everything turns for the worse. It’s nothing on the outside, because that is the same as it always is. It is inside of me. and I hate it. I hate it when I feel like this.

I want to be pitied for my hard life and at the same time I don’t want pity at all.

I want to be praised for everything good I do. at the same time, it’s displeasing too.

And suddenly, I sit here, angry with myself and telling myself, that I have nothing to say anymore and that it would be best to stop writing. that includes twitter, wattpad, this blog and livejournal. I hardly write anything on fb. I post pictures of my kids sometimes or I share a song or something, but I am not very active.

I sit here, shaking my head at myself at how ridiculous I am for spilling this to you and for hoping/expecting someone to read this. I need a good cry, but there are no tears “all my tears have been used up” (special points if you know from what song this is and who sings it, without looking it up – no cheating)

And while I try to be positive and not have regrets of any kind, I can’t deny that I regret many things. There are so many things that I would change, but there are no second chances in real life and some people simply are not available anymore to make things up to them.

I’m also still facing my writer’s block. Though, I wrote a few pages in a two hours today, which is good. though my English sucks and I can’t think straight. I wish I could say, that it’s the lack of sleep, but it isn’t. not really.

I’m so tired of wasting my life away and the few things I really love to do, are not appreciated. at least not by the people who are around me a lot.

Nobody likes nerdy music people. I am not pushy, don’t impose my tastes on anybody and celebrate my (as I find myself) eclectic taste. but there is no one who is interesting in sharing that with me (in my every day face-to-face life at least) and I can’t live in this pseudo world all the time. I can’t live my life through a screen and through written conversations with people that I most likely will never meet, although I like them and what they do a lot.

I love supporting bands and musicians and I admire their courage to put themselves out there, for everyone to judge and to review. By doing so, they make themselves vulnerable. Who likes to read bad reviews? And who likes to see, that views and likes don’t go up?! (I as a writer don’t! and still I am out there too… doesn’t that make me stronger than I feel I am right now too?!)

My thoughts are all over the place, while I listen to Weikie once again.

I want to vanish and I want to be seen. It’s just like it always used to be. See me, don’t look at me, but if you do see me and look at me, please love me.

I am such a weird person. I know that and while I really think, that this blog and the music and finding a passion in writing helped me to improve a lot in recent months, it’s in moments like tonight, that I fear, that I’m going “one step forward and two steps back and that my life (my inner life) is like a hurricane”. (another quote from a song)

Sometimes, I feel like I am running out of words and out of sound and all that comes out of my mouth are trivialities, because I simply can’t find a voice to tell the people around me how I really feel.

I prefer to appear moody and brooding rather than vulnerable and weak…

I live in a constant fear of being judged, if I reveal too much about myself. And there are people, who deserve to tear down my walls and I know, that I don’t let them out of fear that they won’t or can’t love me. I don’t want people to see me when I am sad like this and I don’t want to have to explain myself, because I can’t. I can’t say what is wrong inside of me. There is that storm raging in my soul from time to time and I can’t stop it. And it’s days like the one today, that I feel, that I can’t breathe and that I am drowning (read my poem internal drowning) and it’s days like the one today, that I can’t see and can’t understand, that there is anything loveable about me. and even if you or anyone else tells me, that this is silly talk… I don’t believe it. I simply can’t believe and understand it in these moments.

The worst thing is, that this ‘phase’ will pass and I know it, but I can’t do anything to skip to the days, where I see how silly I am for writing this stuff and being embarrassed for writing it out for the public to read. In two days time, maybe even already tomorrow, I will feel better. But right now… right now… I don’t feel good. Useless. Self-loathing myself. Questioning myself and my existence.

Aren’t these the words of a 15 year old girl instead of a 30 year old woman?

who determines how I have to feel and think at a certain age and who has the right to tell me, that I live my life the wrong way or that I am interested in the wrong things?? In the end, I have to live with myself and my choices everyday. I have to live with my moods and I have to accept that this is a huge part of who I am.

I am damaged goods. Broken in the past.

But I am strong too. I live, I love, I feel. I chose not to let my past reign over my now and my future. I chose to fight with myself everyday and I chose to be who I am. It’s also a choice, how I represent myself on this blog and in my everyday life. It’s a choice – a carefully taken choice –  that I am on this blog more myself than I will ever be in real life.

And while I wrote more than 1000 words in this post, I feel my spirits already lifting and I think, it might be, because I allow myself to see things from both sides. I am realistic and I came to know myself and those mood-swings pretty well. Of course, they are ugly and not easy to live with, but they are a part of me, that is not easy to hide.

I thank you for not judging me. For (maybe) reading this and understanding my lines of thoughts (though that is pretty hard some times).

I appreciate your time and your support. It is never taken for granted.

And now, the last song of my CD is playing in the background. Piano and a voice and touching lyrics. The perfect end to this post.