Brain floats
Really don't know why updating isn't as appealing as it once was. Guess I'm just too distracted, or not in the mood.
I didn't end up going out on Thursday. I didn't even get to the debriefing session before that. I did look for the building, but couldn't find it, and couldn't find any signage or anything. And by that time I'd freaked myself out over having to be in a room full of strangers (at the informal thing), that I didn't even want to go to the debriefing session. In any case, it's not like I need any 'counselling'. Maybe if they'd had it soon after my arrival, when I still felt a bit lost, it would have done more good. But now, I'm used to home again, and I don't want to keep dragging out stuff like that. There's a point when you have to move on.
So I felt pretty crap that day. Wondering whether I'll ever be able to change, whether it's worth even trying to change since I can't even go to a simple gathering without drama. Also didn't get to talk to J, so that didn't help.
Wednesday was pretty uneventful, really.
Today I finally pasted some of my photos into the albums I bought specially for them. 150-ish left to go! It's a bit tedious, I have these little sticky dots to paste on the back of the photo and then paste the photo in to the album, but I do like tedious work. Anything where it's optional for my brain to engage, really. It can think about what I'm doing, or what's going on around me, or nothing in particular. Knitting, swimming, putting letters in envelopes, organising photos, stuff like that. Sketching isn't the same, I'm almost completely engaged in what I'm doing. I'm hoping dancing will let me get into that mindset too, though I may be too worried about not looking like an idiot to relax and let my brain float.
I've been reading Anne Frank's diary. I've been wanting to ever since we went to the Anne Frank museum in Amsterdam. It's weird, in a way. I read the abridged version many many years ago. We were still in Sri Lanka at the time, in boarding school. So I've got to adjust to reading some new material (her feelings towards her mother, her sexuality, etc.), as well as to reading it as a 21yr old, rather than an 8/9yr old. Anne Frank had seemed so grown up when I was little (and a lot of what she talked about went over my head, to be honest). I was an outgoing, self absorbed, happy child. I didn't understand depression or introversion, I preferred to be doing something. I wasn't big on self reflection, my diaries from around that period clearly show that... Now, I think she was so little! And I've changed (still self absorbed, though), and I can understand (more) what she's talking about.
If you take out the fact that she had to go through some horrific things (which I just can't relate to), I do think I'm a bit like her. We're the same sort of person, maybe. It makes me wonder, would she have been this way if she hadn't had to hide, trapped basically within her thoughts? Maybe not...
And it makes me wonder, if I had made friends early on at university, if I hadn't basically withdrawn into my own thoughts, would I have been this way?
I'm beginning to forget how I felt when I was in England... things are beginning to slip back to the way they always were.
I feel rather, umm.. what's the word. It feels rather arrogant to compare myself to Anne Frank. There is no way I'll ever be in a position similar to her (hopefully, anyway). But her diary's been making me think. It makes me want to write better, deeper, more thoughtfully. I'd love to be remembered for my writing.
Who am I kidding? I just want to be remembered.
I didn't end up going out on Thursday. I didn't even get to the debriefing session before that. I did look for the building, but couldn't find it, and couldn't find any signage or anything. And by that time I'd freaked myself out over having to be in a room full of strangers (at the informal thing), that I didn't even want to go to the debriefing session. In any case, it's not like I need any 'counselling'. Maybe if they'd had it soon after my arrival, when I still felt a bit lost, it would have done more good. But now, I'm used to home again, and I don't want to keep dragging out stuff like that. There's a point when you have to move on.
So I felt pretty crap that day. Wondering whether I'll ever be able to change, whether it's worth even trying to change since I can't even go to a simple gathering without drama. Also didn't get to talk to J, so that didn't help.
Wednesday was pretty uneventful, really.
Today I finally pasted some of my photos into the albums I bought specially for them. 150-ish left to go! It's a bit tedious, I have these little sticky dots to paste on the back of the photo and then paste the photo in to the album, but I do like tedious work. Anything where it's optional for my brain to engage, really. It can think about what I'm doing, or what's going on around me, or nothing in particular. Knitting, swimming, putting letters in envelopes, organising photos, stuff like that. Sketching isn't the same, I'm almost completely engaged in what I'm doing. I'm hoping dancing will let me get into that mindset too, though I may be too worried about not looking like an idiot to relax and let my brain float.
I've been reading Anne Frank's diary. I've been wanting to ever since we went to the Anne Frank museum in Amsterdam. It's weird, in a way. I read the abridged version many many years ago. We were still in Sri Lanka at the time, in boarding school. So I've got to adjust to reading some new material (her feelings towards her mother, her sexuality, etc.), as well as to reading it as a 21yr old, rather than an 8/9yr old. Anne Frank had seemed so grown up when I was little (and a lot of what she talked about went over my head, to be honest). I was an outgoing, self absorbed, happy child. I didn't understand depression or introversion, I preferred to be doing something. I wasn't big on self reflection, my diaries from around that period clearly show that... Now, I think she was so little! And I've changed (still self absorbed, though), and I can understand (more) what she's talking about.
If you take out the fact that she had to go through some horrific things (which I just can't relate to), I do think I'm a bit like her. We're the same sort of person, maybe. It makes me wonder, would she have been this way if she hadn't had to hide, trapped basically within her thoughts? Maybe not...
And it makes me wonder, if I had made friends early on at university, if I hadn't basically withdrawn into my own thoughts, would I have been this way?
I'm beginning to forget how I felt when I was in England... things are beginning to slip back to the way they always were.
I feel rather, umm.. what's the word. It feels rather arrogant to compare myself to Anne Frank. There is no way I'll ever be in a position similar to her (hopefully, anyway). But her diary's been making me think. It makes me want to write better, deeper, more thoughtfully. I'd love to be remembered for my writing.
Who am I kidding? I just want to be remembered.