marshtide: (Lake)
- I still don't have an operation date and am kind of stressed about this. I mean. I just want to know already. There's a good chance it'll get in the way of going to BLYG because they only have one day after that weekend when they do operations. (I have asked them to fit me in there if they possibly can. They'll get back to me.) I would love to have this sorted out so that I can plan accordingly. And maybe some time when I'm not going round and round in circles about this I might manage to post something substantial again.

- We're going away for the weekend with family. There will be five of us in the car. And we're taking my wheelchair. And bedding. And food. I have no idea how this is going to work; maybe we should just strap J to the roof. (...or not.)

- Valborg's mum gave me a book! It's from these people (site in Swedish), with tips for murdering old unwanted clothes and turning them into new things. She just found it somewhere I think. It's pretty fabulous. No idea how much I'll actually use it but I'm pretty sure there are some good ideas and inpiration in there. And some really cool pictures! (I've been over there doing bits of sewing - my jeans and a t-shirt for Valborg and tiny pride flags because there is always a need for tiny pride flags - almost entirely from scrap fabric and old clothes that I'm re-using, so I am now designated as Interested In This Sort Of Thing. This is the kind of thing Valborg's parents latch onto, I think.

- Not unrelatedly, favourite queer/genderqueer symbols? I mean obviously I know a bunch but there are a million variations on all of them. (Yeah, I am sewing myself something ridiculous and then wearing it for pride week. And just whenever I want, basically.)

- Did I mention that I'm really obsessive when I get started with things? I'm still taking too many photos, but keep running out of space to store them and having to find new storage places.
marshtide: (Katherine Hepburn - Sylvia Scarlett)
Two leftover prompts:

1. [personal profile] eggcrack asked about my favourite people from Swedish history, and I have to admit that my understanding of Swedish history is still fairly surface. I do think that, for example, Queen Christina is completely fascinating - but I still haven't got around to reading up on her properly! And I don't even have so many more names.

On the other hand, we do have a great big book of Swedish queer history sitting on a shelf, as well as a number of feminist books which probably have some history in, so I should get working on my knowledge! I guess I'll try to remember to report back on my findings later.

(Actually, most of my understanding of Swedish history comes from Valborg's brother, who has a job related to this stuff, and it's slanted heavily towards "funny stories about kings." And from Valborg's parents, who mostly share information about more recent political history. Although this stuff can be really interesting, it hasn't really turned up any people who make me fantastically gleeful; though I'll admit that Olof Palme was really interesting, he also strikes me as more than slightly infuriating. For example.)

2. [personal profile] silveradept asked about intersection of identities (british, queer, feminist, nerd, in sweden). This is complicated because my identity is pretty unstable in some ways, but!

First: queer and feminist sit together comfortably for me. Although I've met feminists who try to make it into a problem, I haven't met them regularly, probably because I've been selective about spaces. The thing they don't always sit together well with is being a nerd, especially if I try to take myself out into mixed nerd spaces, instead of the internet ones I inhabit (which are generally either queer-dominated or female-dominated or both, and to some extent invested in equality).

Essentially it doesn't actually feel that safe to be visibly queer or to express feminist opinions in a lot of in-person nerd spaces I've found myself in.

I usually do both anyway, and then there's a fight and I go look for somewhere else to hang out, because man, life is too short. (I am, however, gratified to hear that one former group I went through this process with has apparently done some thinking after the event about things I said and the only unrepentant member has left in disgust.)

I've had huge problems finding a roleplaying group, for example, which isn't full of misogynistic bullshit or homophobia or both. I think I've only had one, actually. I don't think they don't exist, but I do feel like I have to look really hard, and if I wanted to put up a notice to try and find a group to play with right now I would probably do it in a queer space - not a general nerd one.

Second: Being British is actually an identity which I can use more easily now I'm in Sweden than I could when I was in Britain. It felt uncomfortable there, which has a lot to do with the way I was treated growing up - that is to say, I'm part Ukrainian, and it's often been used as a way to make me Not British Enough and therefore fair game for all kinds of bullshit. Children are bastards.

Extra context - growing up in the late 80s/90s with an eastern european surname in a tiny rural community where most other people had family roots in the local area going back a few hundred years. It was fantastic. There is also the thing where a surprising number of people have asked me in all seriousness which country I came from and complimented me on my English (even without having seen my surname, in some cases!). Being British is not really an identity that Britain likes to let me take for granted, but Sweden is quite happy to. Probably as a result of this I actually feel a bit more at home in Sweden, if only because I know where I stand; I have a definite identity as a British-born immigrant. People can hear from my accent that I'm probably British, and here I am. Ta-da.

Third: my queer feminist identity has actually undergone a good bit of development in Sweden too. I had read quite a lot of theory and fiction in the UK, and thought a lot about these issues, but somehow I've built up a much more systematic picture while I've been here. I've actually enjoyed reading feminist theory in Swedish even more than in English, which I do admit is more than a little perverse of me. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that moving to another country is the kind of change which, in some odd way, makes it easier to re-focus when it comes to other parts of one's life.

I think somewhat differently in Swedish than I do in English. I have different words and concepts. And I lack words for some things; that means I have to think around them. And that might be a good thing in this respect as well, in terms of examining concepts.

P.S. PRODUCTIVITY REPORT: I finished tidying the patio, which basically meant pulling up all the tiny trees that were trying to start growing between paving stones (other random dandelions etc. can stay, do I look like I care - but one has to draw the line somewhere, and that line is somewhere around "fucking lilac bushes everywhere"). I have cleaned a winter's worth of grime off the bench, table and windowsills out there. I have chucked a bunch of herb seeds (basil, thyme, dill, oregano, chives, parsley) all over everywhere that wasn't full of tulips, because we are basically really bad at flowers anyway and we eat herbs like you would not believe. And we went for a pretty long walk up to Val's parents on the other side of town; I was in the wheelchair for a lot of it, but I still feel kind of accomplished. (The wheelchair is basically perfect for my needs, because the moment I feel a bit like I'm starting to be in pain I can sit down, and then the pain calms down - if I have to first find a bench I'm generally in too much pain for sitting to really cut it by the time I get there and that's when I end up back in bed in a heap, whimpering.)
marshtide: (Default)

- we went to town today with the wheelchair and it went really great. I was even feeling alive enough when we came back to do more stuff around the house.

- I cleaned the patio. The heaps of leaves are gone and the plant pots are in a stack in a corner and we could actually sit out there. The corner flower bed is going to become a little herb patch. I am brilliant. (I didn't even break myself doing that either.)

- AND THEN I did part of dinner as well!


- start writing again. Write something every day. Dedicate a specific period of the day to it. fiction or non-fiction is fine.
marshtide: (Default)
Today is wobbly. No complicated post, just a few links! I was up and about so much yesterday that I haven't been able to move properly today, and am also feeling completely worn out. That's how it goes!


Art: [personal profile] pinesandmaples has been doing lovely posts about art, which I have been enjoying lots!

Brain stuff: I found this essay on health anxiety to be an accurate description of how it feels inside my head.

Comic: This comic by Vi is awesome and adorable.

Good stuff:

- I have booked one of my favourite people to chat with next weekend, even if I can't actually hang out with her.

- When I actually post, people sometimes talk to me! Goodness me. Guess I do exist. And post things people find interesting. :)

- Negotiating to get some of my favourite Swedish people over here to hang out with me for my birthday outside of the more general family thing caused by me sharing a birthday with my partner's dad. We shall see, but it's a nice idea.

- [personal profile] annotated_em has given me paid time! Because she is marvelous and lovely! Thank you so much. :)
marshtide: (Default)
As pointed out, many things are crap or kind of hard work right now.

But as my hairdresser says, at least I have a cool haircut.

marshtide: (Default)
I've been thinking a lot about identity in various forms lately. I've been trying to write about how I feel about my national identity, but that's defeated me several times now, so I'll give it a break and maybe come back later. Instead, expression of identity through appearance.

Me. And the quest for something that fits. )
marshtide: (Snufkin - The traveller)
I change my mind on writing several times a day.

1. I can't write. I don't have anything to say and I don't have a sufficiently beautiful style to get away with not saying much.

2. I can write, but I haven't found what it is I should be writing about or how.

3. I have some loose ideas but no clue how to pin them down and write them.

4. Why the hell am I even thinking about this.


Damn it, frustrated creative urges.

Also, I have a headache.
marshtide: (Mymlan)

Entropin ska inte vinna den här gången! För nu har jag LISTOR!

--men seriöst, den här är nånting som läkaren sa att jag borde göra. Bestämmer hur jag ska organisera dagarna, skriver en lista och gör som jag har planerat så mycket som möjligt. Det har jag gjort innan och det hjälpte ganska mycket, så nu prövar jag igen.

På den röda listan står vardagliga saker, som ge lite struktur. Jag skriver ner också allting jag vill/måste göra - annars glömmer jag mycket och senare får ångest.

(Jaaaaaaaa, jag skriver skitdåligt på svenska, och jag bryr mig inte om det heller. Idag skiter jag i grammatiken. :D)
marshtide: (Parkvakten)
While we're talking about brains, another big chunk of my problems can probably be summed up with the following statement, as provided by [personal profile] valborg some time in the last few months:

"What everyone else thinks of as success, you think of as Not Failing."

Which seems unfortunately accurate.

(I'm not sure what would actually be defined as success. And naturally, Failing is some kind of great and terrible fate which will permanently remove my worth as a human being. Look, I don't know. Them's the rules according to my brain, although I'm trying to get them changed, because they're not exactly workable in the long-term. Or at all.)

Other quick notes:

1. I notice I haven't been answering everyone's comments. Again. I'm both forgetful and periodically stressed by trying to express anything at all to another person. As mentioned previously my brain hasn't been doing especially well, and ability to communicate tends to be one of the first things to go. I'm working on it. (People who've been with me a few years have probably seen about a million of these disclaimers, I know. But there are plenty of new faces about too, so.)

Naturally I'm also terrible at commenting on posts I find interesting, but I'll try to drop by sometimes.

2. Hi people who've added me recently!
marshtide: (Default)
1. When I saw my doctor last week she took me to task for not believing in my own point of view, emotions, ideas. It's true; I absolutely don't. It makes it hard to speak, post, write, decide what to have for dinner. I am saying this out loud, again, because I need to tell myself, again (and again and again and again), that it's a perception error, not reality, that I have no worth & nothing to say.

Not being the most talented person in the world is not the same as being worthless. Being wrong is not a disaster. Food is not out to get me.* I'm definitely allowed to post in my own space about things I don't think other people will be very interested in; "I wanted to say it" is a reason sometimes & being boring isn't actually a crime. Not everything has to be perfect. Producing imperfect results doesn't mean I'm a terrible human being. Maybe I'm really not a good writer like wot my brain tells me so often, but if so, that doesn't mean I have nothing to offer anyone at all.

* except assorted grains, which totally are.

2. Isen på Riddarfjärden
smäller som gevär
Blåljus vid Tegelbacken
Våren är här
Du står i spegelsalen
med ett brännbollsträ
Där ute väntar natten
på att stan ska implodera

I'm kind of fascinated.

("The ice on Riddarfjärden
cracks like guns
Blue lights at Tegelbacken
The spring is here
You stand in the hall of mirrors
with a rounders bat
Out there the night waits
for the city to implode"

... or something like that. I think.)

(There! This is boring and totally pointless because I refuse to elaborate at this time on why I find it interesting and I'M POSTING IT ANYWAY. Take THAT, brain!)

3. My writing process right now:

On Monday, I opened a word document. I wrote five words.

On Tuesday I turned the five words into an actual sentence by the cunning addition of punctuation, and added a second sentence. I got annoyed, opened a new word document and made notes on something completely different.

Today I went back to the first document and changed around a few things in the first two sentences, turned them into a paragraph, and began working on a second paragraph. It was about then that my subconscious realised what it was letting me get away with and decided that the sky must be about to fall.

I do wish it wouldn't do that.
marshtide: (Default)
1. Jag drömde om
en barndomsvän igår
som telenäten drömmer
om svalorna i vår

say Kent. (Cowboys.) I like this song in English, but it's clearly better in Swedish, which shouldn't surprise me at all - of course the lyrics are going to be more expressive in Jocke's native language, both in terms of writing and singing.

(The English version - as in the official release, not the actual translation of the above Swedish - goes, "The wires dream / about swallows in the spring / I dreamed about my childhood / surrounded by dead things". The above means more, I think, "I dreamed about / a childhood friend yesterday / like the telephone wires dream / of swallows in spring". Or it might be the telephone network dreaming about swallows, not the wires? - I'm not even sure why I use this as an example, given that there are tracks on Hagnesta Hill that I like more, but it happened to grab me at the right moment, I suppose.)

I haven't actually listened to Hagnesta Hill in Swedish very much - at least not to pay attention to the words - but apparently I really should. I got into Kent mostly via Hagnesta Hill in English, so I have affection for it (and would still recommend it to non-Swedish-speakers, actually, at least as a gateway). But I know the songs are going to be a lot better in Swedish.

I guess this goes for Isola as well, but I don't feel very motivated - it's not one of my favourite albums of theirs in English, and the only tracks I have a really strong sense of are 747 (which is a really spectacular song in either language & which stands up to their later work way better than the rest of the album) and Velvet (which was only released in English anyway).

2. (or possibly 1.b.) It's also interesting, when I try to translate songs from the Swedish versions of Hagnesta Hill and Isola, how much my word-choice and phrasing ends up influenced by the English versions - as well as the similarity-and-difference between the respective versions. There are quirks of expression unique to each version in every case but some of them are pretty similar overall and others feel, from brief examination, almost tenuously related. More on this another time when I have proper translations of the Swedish versions. I'd quite like to run through a comparison some time. I think there's probably stuff to be got from doing that.

3. I'm still trying to make up my mind on En plats i solen. I don't know what bits I like best, or how much I like it as a whole album. Val has been describing it as one of the happier ones, which seemed like a bit of a strong statement to me (I mean, it's an album which makes pretty heavy use of the word "disappear", for example, though in total fairness this is probably true of a number of Kent's albums - it's kind of one of their favourite words) until I got back to working on the lyrics for Du & Jag Döden, at which point it made perfect sense... everything is relative.

Right now I think that maybe Ensam lång väg hem is doing something for me; I have probably the strongest impression of what it's like of all the tracks on the album so far. But it's still a bit soon to say. It's completely possible I'm partly just sold on it because of the travel aspect. (See below.)

A bunch of other songs definitely have lines that strike me well, too. But I'll work through my thoughts a bit more before I try to pin bits down.

If there's something that I'm not really getting from the album as a whole, it's probably to do with the sort of forward momentum I felt with Röd. Röd is going somewhere, although it isn't sure if it'll get there, or that's how it registers in my mind. En plats i solen is, you know. Just kind of hanging out.

Which is fair enough. But I liked Röd's drive. (And bursts of desperation.)

(I think Du & jag döden also had some kind of drive, in a different direction, which is what makes it a really good listen as a whole album despite several tracks I don't like very much.)

4. Moving more firmly backwards to Röd, I don't know as Svarta linjer struck me very strongly at first - it was possibly overwhelmed between Vals för satan and Det finns inga ord, which were my instant favourites and which I still feel pretty strongly about - but I find myself going back to it quite a bit right now. I don't have particularly amazing things to offer as to why (though I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the "vita linjer / i en tunnel ser jag ljus..." section towards the end, because that gives me a really strong mental image; and the song as a whole practically plays a little film in my head, which a lot of the ones I like most do... I'm also coming to understand that a lot of my favourite Kent songs feel a lot like journeys), but will take this as a lesson about how long it can take for an album/individual songs to settle in one's mind.

5. Basically, I'm going to see Kent live at Långholmsparken later this month, and I'm presumably going to be completely insufferable until then. I apologise to everyone following along to whom I didn't advertise this as The Kent Obsession Journal. I apologise also to [personal profile] valborg, who is discovering that she's not the only one capable of obsessive monofocus. But I go ahead and post this anyway, because we've just had a conversation about how I need to worry a bit less about whether I'm saying exactly the right thing in exactly the right way, and just say things a bit more.

Actually saying anything at all is a well-established problem of mine. I think we've touched on this.
marshtide: (Default)
I will write a story about the sea between 1,000 and 10,000 words by the 10th of July. (This is where it would help if I owned a boat right now.)

It hasn't been much of a year for writing. I try not to go on about writing angst because, you know, it's writing angst. It tends to sound the same all over the place, from everyone. I do have it, though, in a way. Most of all I think any attempts to write suffer from the same thing as my attempts to do absolutely anything else: the fear that whatever I do will be somehow wrong. Not that it will be "bad writing" or "poorly developed" or "boring", though OK, I'm not wild on those ideas either - but that I will somehow do something so hideously, outrageously wrong that no-one will ever speak to me again and I won't be able to live with myself either. I can, I should add, suffer from this fear when thinking about whether to put the mugs away on the right or left side of the cupboard. It is emphatically not rational.

Which I guess is what a badly managed anxiety disorder looks like! There you go.

(I keep telling myself that one of these days I should work up some non-fiction ideas and maybe try pitching some stuff out there, but can you imagine! Talking about Actual Factual Stuff! Me! The things my brain can do with that idea! It's utterly convinced that I have nothing worth saying & should just shut up at the best of times, and when I'm only talking to a tiny online journal audience in a fairly informal way. Which is why I am maybe kind of bad at posting.)
marshtide: (Default)
A bitty entry this time, because I have a few scraps I want to gather up and get rid of that I can't make into full posts in their own right at this exact (everyone-is-sick-and-chaos-reigns) moment.


Have you heard of Victoria Benedictsson? I hadn't! This might just be because I'm not very well-read, but then again, it might not be. I will add the disclaimer here that I haven't actually read her books yet, though as soon as I can get to the library there's a copy of her novel Money (Pengar) waiting for me to collect. I am pretty excited about this. It's a criticism of the inequality of marriage at the time and of the sexual double standard between men and women!

Victoria Benedictsson was a Swedish writer, working in the late 19th century. She had a pretty eventful and possibly quite scandalous life, and struggled really hard to be accepted as artistically legitimate (often being dismissed as writing about women's issues). She was concerned with women's place in society and female sexuality, and her writing apparently has a really strong element of social commentary. She also inspired/influenced (and also possibly horrified) Ibsen and Strindberg, who I bet you have heard of, because they're basically The Dudes of Scandinavian theatre & literature. (The library I worked at last year in the UK had a Scandinavian literature section, which was composed almost entirely of Ibsen, with two plays by Strindberg. That was all. For reference.) Right now she's getting a bit more attention for the fact that her writing is basically full of pretty feminist ideas, but for ages people talked about her largely as that woman who had an affair with a literary critic and then killed herself because it didn't work out, which is unfortunate. (Especially as she didn't kill herself for those reasons, as far as can be discerned from the sources avaliable, which include, you know, detailed diary entries.)

Probably more on this topic at a later date, when I'm better informed.


I've come to a realisation lately: namely, that traditional narrative is just not really my best friend. I tried to be friends with it for a few years and I think it mostly produced stories which were fragmented anyway (but, in absolute fairness, sometimes worked quite well like that) and stories which I could not possibly finish, and while we'll certainly remain on speaking terms I think we need some space from each other. The problem with it is maybe that it implies to some degree a worldview that I have problems with, of definite beginnings and middles and ends, patterns which resolve themselves into meaning, etc., and while I can happily accept that this is exactly what a lot of stories need and that there are very good reasons for telling them in that sort of way I don't think I would actually want to write like that because I am... not really writing for those reasons, not really interested in what happens so much as the people it happens to (or around or because of or in the mind of or...) and the places it happens in. If I am interested in patterns it's maybe more why people perceive them the way they do, and the ways in which they try to make stories out of their lives.

Possibly this is some kind of terrible difficulty, but I'm not really convinced; I think it's more of a difference, and one I'm happy to play with, which means I should write a different kind of story. It's the sort of thing where just accepting it is likely to make for slightly happier writing. I'm interested in building up fragments into something of a story and I'm interested in ambiguity and making people join the dots up to a certain point, though of course one has to play carefully in this territory.

Looking at the authors I really love in a way which goes beyond "this is a good and thought-provoking read" or whatever and into the territory of starry-eyed admiration, I don't think this should be very surprising. Virginia Woolf? Experimental stylist fond of stream-of-consciousness and writing people more than writing stories. Tove Jansson? Penchant for constructing novels out of short stories in a way which works mysteriously well to create a sense of who people are; very little happens but a lot is communicated; not really a progression along a line so much as a collection of snapshots that could be rearranged and played around with. Murakami? Books full of signs which signify... well, what, exactly? A lot about creating a sense that there's a pattern and not providing any kind of key to it, and having this actually be satisfying. His endings resolve nothing and I like it.

I'm also more in love with magical realism and making the ordinary otherwise threatening or unsettling or strange than I am with just writing the ordinary or with writing the outright extraordinary. I think there is a space there for subtle wrongness and a sense of disconnection from the day-to-day, and though that genre doesn't necessarily do that and things which do that aren't necessarily of that genre I think it's an area which would be fun to play in. Any sort of lense which produces strangeness would work, because, well, that's how the world feels to me. I guess I am about the sense that things don't quite fit and that the supposedly ordinary can be the most disconcerting thing, because it often is to me.

This realisation brought to you partly by a conversation in which I got frustrated with Alice Munro's stories for being beautifully crafted and all about women's daily lives (OK, resoundingly straight women's daily lives with heavy emphasis on the men therein whether as a presence or an absence, which may just have been a part of the problem for me when it came to identifying with them) and absolutely boring to me because they feel like a part of a legendary Normal World I have never actually set foot in and wouldn't really enjoy if I got there. I simply can't connect to them, though they are probably really pretty good if you can.


A couple of links.

a. I've decided I really like the community [community profile] queering_holmes. I decided this largely because they seem to like Graham Robb's Strangers over there and because this could just be the place I'm looking for with Queer Victorian Stuff and an interest in Holmes as linked in to that context. Maybe I can air my theories about Irene Adler. Sometime when I'm feeling confident enough to be sociable. For now I'll sit and watch and feel a tiny bit gleeful.

b. I'm not actually any good at Japanese history - I've studied the bits that could reasonably be covered by a course about indigenous cultures worldwide from an archaeological perspective, which is to say, groups like the Ainu, and I've read a bunch of books about homosexuality among Samurai and monks, and I've absorbed various other information in a completely haphazard way so that the end result is a bit surreal - but here is a post about Samurai Champloo from someone who seems rather better at it. I love Samurai Champloo, for the record, and I love it as a fun and gloriously irreverent series and as a piece of commentary and also for its amazingly choreographed fight scenes. But in this case we're talking about it as a series taking a good kick at the Samurai drama genre as a whole even while theoretically playing within its borders.


May. 3rd, 2010 09:33 pm
marshtide: (Default)
This is one of those wretched days during which nothing significantly bad has happened but which one feels awful about anyway. Basically, a giant crisis of self-worth. Realistically, putting together an essay of any sort wasn't going to happen and I couldn't think of anything held in reserve, though there must be stuff somewhere around here...

But we're talking about our own awesomeness today, apparently. Nothing could be more contrary to how I feel about myself right now, which is probably the best possible argument for taking a shot at it, as recommended by [personal profile] annotated_em. This is actually enough of a problem for me that my first response is along the lines of, wait, what am I good at? What can I do? Nothing! & that I'm still struggling to move beyond that stage.

But let's try.

- I'm kicking arse at Swedish. I've gone from a handful of words and a few stock phrases in February (e.g. "Kan jag få en kopp te, tack" and "vill du har lite te?", because this is actually genuinely what our lives revolve around - go on, guess) to being able to carry out simple conversations and understand rather more complex ones. I've watched several films in Swedish and followed the plot and I've read a whole bunch of children's books. And you know what's even more awesome about this? I'm not being formally taught yet. This is how far I've got before I've had a single lesson. Jag är jättebra, faktiskt.

- I make pretty amazing chocolate brownies. At my previous workplace they were the stuff of office legend, and useable as bribes.

- My writing has a distinctive voice which feels like it's mine, and I'm proud of the degree to which I can convey mood and a sense of place. Right now I feel like my writing is really anchored in landscapes that are important to me and that it draws a lot from that, and I like that.

Well. I guess that didn't kill me.

Who'd have thought.
marshtide: (Default)
What does one do when one feels on the edge of panic just trying to post something fairly non-controversial and otherwise not very dramatic?

It was hard work putting up my previous post, and got to the stage where I couldn't really work at it any more or make it be what I wanted it to be. I tend to be perfectionist, and I tend to permanently feel that I'm doing something wrong. I worry too hard about other people's judgements, particularly as I feel I'm surrounded by people who are basically smarter than me. I can manage to feel like an impostor while keeping a quiet journal with a very small audience, off in a corner of the internet!

This is not the sort of thing I was hoping to post about in this journal at all, to be honest, but it's clearly setting itself up as an obstacle to actual content.

How does one say what one really feels, and not fight against this all the time? I don't know, and it's actually getting extremely wearing pretty fast. The feeling that one is basically wrong about most things is not one I care for, but not one I've had much luck in persuading to leave over the last few years.
marshtide: (Default)
Since I'm trying to be a bit more vocal and active around here, an introduction might help. Let's see! Some kind of overall guide. Oh dear, I never was any good at those... I suppose not having a terribly stable sense of who I am or what it is I want to define myself by doesn't help.


This is long and makes no sense. Enjoy! )

And if you actually read all of that I feel I should probably be handing out some kind of award.
marshtide: (Default)
An empty journal gives me something of the same feeling of anxiety as an empty writing pad: right now it's all potential, and I could fill it with amazing things. But my mind tells me I probably won't, and so I sit and look at it and worry that I'll do something wrong. Whatever I mean by that.

I've made at least five or six attempts at starting something here, and then done the journaling equivalent of throwing it across the room in frustration. But I think the thing that really pushed me towards this place is the fact that I'm feeling mentally all run down and bent out of shape, and I need to push myself to create things, organise my thoughts, drive myself forward.

I'm a writer, but I'm also dragging myself slowly out of one of the larger pits of anxiety and depression that I've experienced in my life, and there hasn't exactly been a lack of those. A few months ago there was possibly not a film I could watch without having a panic attack and I do believe I spent more time thinking about death than about what was going on in my life, and the idea of doing anything much left me mentally paralysed. I haven't written - that is to say, sat down and really worked on a piece, tweaked all the ideas and polished the prose until I was happy - for the better part of a year, at least, and I think I'm more or less done beating myself up for that, but I've got a long way to go in recovering any kind of sense of my own ability, too. In total honesty, I think I've got a long way to go just in recovering some kind of a sense of self.

& maybe this is some part of that. If I'm not sure what will happen here that's probably because I'm not sure what I need.

Posting this despite misgivings because I have misgivings about everything right now and one simply has to start somewhere. So we'll try here.



marshtide: (Default)

December 2012

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