Let’s talk about: Fear.

I wanted to stay away from these kinds of posts for awhile, especially during a time when I’m attempting to concentrate on rebuilding myself as a writer, and most importantly, enjoying it again. I finished university and spent the last three years having all these great ideas for stories, but no effort to write them – because I was already working on the first project I started, which I eventually started to hate. Hey, that’s the life of being a writer, isn’t it? Or not. I’m still figuring it on.

But I digress, fear is the topic of this week. And fear has been overwhelming in the day-to-day lives of some. Even more so now, when there has been attacks in places there shouldn’t have been (although there shouldn’t be any, full stop), an increase in armed police on our streets ensuring our safety and terror threats shutting down events at even the slightest whoft. It’s crazy, and it does scare me. It scares me because there are people experiencing things that should never be experienced. It breaks my heart thinking about the war-torn countries that I’ve never visited. The families that watch bombs drop while their kids are out playing, or in school, or at a friends. The people just waiting for the tragedy to happen to them, because they live in such an awful place that it’s just a matter of time to lose someone they know. It honestly hurts me to think about the pain that these people go through. My entire body feels limp when I hear about bombs and threats on the news – Paris, Manchester, Kabul, Syria to name a few. The lists grows every single day, and it’s heartbreaking. I don’t need to go into reasons why it’s heartbreaking and explain every emotion I feel at every “BREAKING NEWS” article or news clip that I see. You know how I feel, or at least I hope you do. We need more people to feel this way. To feel empathy and love and care for all types of people from all types of places.

I write this because today, Rock AM Ring got shut down on it’s first evening because of a terror threat. Tens of thousands of fans evacuated from the site, and in that little bit of unity singing “You Will Never Walk Alone.” I can’t begin to imagine the fear the people of RAR must of felt. They didn’t know the details, they only knew it was a terror threat, but there they were all standing side by side and making a terrible situation that little bit better. I can tell you now, that while I hate the thought of fear holding people back, I would have been the first person to start crying.

Now, I travel to Austria in eleven days for Nova Rock Festival in Nickelsdorf. My biggest fear up until this point was attempting to find my way around a foreign country to get from Vienna airport to Pannonia Fields I. I’ll admit, I saw the tweets come rolling in about RAR and my stomach churned. I was at the exact festival last year, almost going again this year until we seen the Nova Rock line-up. But this isn’t about me, I was just shocked that it happened, as would anyone. Here’s a little backstory to why I decided to write about this topic:

I told my mother about it. I told her that RAR was shut down and everyone needed to be evacuated, and she told me I wasn’t going to Austria. Bad luck, mum, I’m going no matter what. I wouldn’t miss Green Day and Blink-182 headlining a festival for anything. So, she gets mad, telling me I shouldn’t have told her. And I probably shouldn’t have, because I know it’s just going to make her worry more about me when I’m away. She doesn’t like me going into the city center on my own. She didn’t want me to work this weekend because of the UEFA Championships. I don’t have that kind of fear, and that’s what I want to talk about it.

I don’t know how it feels to have that kind of fear. To have a voice in the back of your head telling you all the things that could go wrong. The constant whispering. To let that voice stop you from doing the things you need to do. Since the Manchester attack, so many people have sold their gig tickets. Slam Dunk, Blink-182, Download. I’ve seen the tickets go up for sale left, right and center. I don’t know why I don’t feel it, but I won’t let my life be stopped because of a threat, or a risk, or whatever you want to call it. I can’t stop these things from happening, but I can try my best to enjoy what little pleasure the world has left to offer and hope for the best.

I can’t guarantee that I won’t walk two steps out of my house and get run over by a crazed driver. I can’t guarantee that I won’t go to work one day and be stabbed by some high chick. I can’t guarantee that I won’t take my dogs for a walk and get mauled by some super-cute German Sheppard. There are a thousand ways I could meet my demise – but all those ways I could at whatever time of day, isn’t going to stop me. Sure, I’ll be on edge and I’ll be extra vigilant – just like any other person that’s heard of all these attacks. But these things aren’t written in stone. Imagine putting something off because it happened somewhere else, to find out later that it went ahead and it was just as amazing as you thought. Wouldn’t that suck? I know the risks that travelling provides. I know that I could get lost in a random city, get mugged because of my vulnerability of a foreign country. My plane could crash land. My bus could catch fire. My head could explode into a thousand pieces because I overthought everything and it’s frazzled my brain. And I know the risk of evacuation – but I trust in those who aim to protect us to do just that. I trust the goodness in the majority of people to guide and help me. I’m not afraid, because all I want to do is to experience what I can before it all turns into hell. That’s all I want to do. And I suggest we all do it, because by giving into fear, is giving these people who want to ruin our world, exactly what they want. We can’t give in to that, otherwise we’re handing them our lives.

Ramblings

“Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”

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Everything has changed. I’m an entirely different person to what I was a year ago; to what I was when I first entered 2016. The story’s the same, the face is the same but everything feels different. I’ve always strived for some sort of happiness, to feel something more than numb. But what this year has shown me is no matter what, happiness is not a destination, but a journey. And perhaps a neverending journey, but with every piece of progress, with every ounce of confidence that I gain, I know I’m closer to what once felt impossible. I’m getting there and it sure feels good.

There’s a thousand things I want to do and I want to change, but for everything I’ve ever gone through, for ever decision I’ve ever made, I’m so glad that I’m here right now. There are days when all I want is to not exist, and those days of feeling nothing are still going to be a part of my life. But recently, those days have lessened and I’m reminded that there’s more to life than what it is right now. I got the chance to travel to Germany, to experience something amazing with the best people I could. I’ve got to write and write and write to my hearts content. At first, I thought that what I was doing in the present would be what I would end up doing forever, and I lost so much motivation because I could never see myself any different than a deadbeat. And whilst I still may not make it in a world where there are so many other talented people; where I can easily be brushed under the carpet and forgotten about, I might just have fun trying. I might be working a minimum-wage bar job with long hours with headaches that hurt the back of my eyes, but these eyes have so much more to see. So much more to appreciate.

Positivity doesn’t come to me that often. Especially not the type where I want to write it and show it because I know soon enough I’ll want to write how I want the earth to swallow me up. Some things won’t change, but the way you handle each situation and each downfall will get better. Everyone is fighting their own battle, but we fight it side by side.

Peace, xoalaskaar.

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“I take back every word that I said,”

Months have gone by and this platform of tangled and contradictory text posts has gone completely untouched. While my hiatus was unannounced, the break was needed. The endless hours I placed into what I thought was therapeutic writing was only my further decline. Instead of overcoming my Depression, I came to terms with it. I accepted it as part of my day-to-day life instead of trying to recover from it. I gave it a name; I gave it a home rent-free. I fed it until it swelled up like a tumour and took over my body like a puppet.

Here’s to a new mindset. Here’s to a new life.

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Right and Wrong, yes or no?

Dear Diary, I cannot fathom my own thoughts. No amount of time has helped me progress the understanding of the mismatched constellations inside my own head.

In the last few weeks, the lines between doing something because it’s the right thing to do and doing something because you feel like you have to has become somewhat blurred. It’s never easy to try and detangle your thoughts after months of justifying the pressure that’s been placed on you and actually deciding whether it’s right or wrong. Anyone knows that trying to comprehend the thoughts that are disorganised and misplaced somewhere within the cells of your mind is like trying to detangle sewing cotton after it’s been stretched and rolled into a ball… It feels impossible. But when you look a little closer at the factors that has caused the tangling, the reasons as to why this started then things start to make a little sense.

I’m writing this mainly to get my own thoughts out there. To be able to write and be heard so that people in the same predicament or a similar situation actually takes a step back and sees it for what it really is. You can want to do something, but it may not be the right thing to do. Feeling forced or being guilted into doing something is only going to end badly and what you’re currently feeling will only ever worsen. Take time to realise what the consequences will be: will you be happy if you go through with it? will it makes things worse? will it make things better? do you want to do it, or do you feel like you have to?

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“I guess this is growing up.”

Adulting can be hard. So hard that I can’t even write “being an adult” because that’s too formal and I get extremely anxious about writing blog posts that’s too formal and boring. Adulting. Doing adult things. Having adult responses and reactions. It’s all a little bit too much for me.

Sunday brings a “big” day for me. I turn 21 and I already feel like I’m having a mid-life crisis. I’m scared of the dentist. I can’t get up at the first alarm in the morning and always end up hitting snooze until it’s too late and I’m rushing out of the door with a piece of toast flapping between my teeth and a toothbrush attached to my hair. I act like a huge baby whenever I feel slightly sick. I think saying my mental age is a lot younger than it should be is probably an understatement. Or it is.

Sometimes I wonder if I jumped into adulthood too fast, as if there was a portal to suck teenagers in and take away their childhood and toys and friends and SO much that I can’t handle. I may be overreacting but it feels like one day I was saving up my weekly bits of lunch money to buy a flagon and a pack of 20 smokes before heading to fields with my friends and enjoying what now comes across as cider that tastes of nothing shorter than piss. I will never ever be able to drink Strongbow straight faced again.

Today, it feels like everything is going 100mph and there is no time for slowing down, because if you do then everything will stop and I will become a lonely old lady, living in a house of pugs wishing that I sent out a thousand applicants a day so that I can start getting my name down for future jobs that will turn into a career. That really, 100% isn’t me. I get told too often that I shouldn’t be procrastinating, or that I shouldn’t spend days binge watching Netflix and giving French and German accents to my little puggas. It’s not good for the CV and certainly isn’t going to help my older self.

There’s always something to do and something to write and sure, there is always something I could be doing to better my chances when I grow up. (I’m a turning-21-year-old who still likes to say “when I grow up,”) but for the moment I want to live the way I want to. If that’s sitting around and eating digestives and drinking tea, watching Netflix and playing my 3DS then I sure will be doing that. If my older self decides that I did the wrong thing, then I’ll take it up with myself when that happens. Truth is, I want to feel content instead of unhappily strolling through life to make everyone else happy.

I do need to work on getting up at my first alarm if I want to earn money and actually learn something in uni though… That’s baby steps though.

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