We will call this one "Untitled."

This is not going to be depressing, this is going to be frank. Lately I haven't really been myself, I've been playing some sort of imitation of myself, a rather poor imitation at the best of times.

I can't even explain it to you.

I have been toying with the idea of what it would be like to be someone else for a few days, I'm sure we have all done that. It's not a new thought, it's why I've always loved reading autobiographies of people I admire, to share a feeling or experience with someone, to live their lives from a page, to escape into their experiences.  Stephen Fry also seemed to have this fascination when he was younger, it's probably a common habit.

It is not about escaping though, I know I have no where to run. You can't run away from yourself, your thoughts, your feelings, I can't even detach myself for very long from those and I have tried persistently for weeks. I even tried ignoring people, leaving them alone without me because I still don't think it would make much of a difference to them. Funny thing though, when I just want to be alone, not to wallow, but to think, people always seem to need me for something. When I want to be with people though, I never seem to be able to find anyone. Probably for the best anyway, I'm not great company even when I'm "normal."

For the past few weeks I have preferred to listen to music than to mosey out and see people, preferably something with soul, passion and music which would probably be labelled "sad." Although most of my friends seem to think listening to "sad" music when you're depressed could only make things worse, they're dead wrong. Seeing people going about their days, happy as can be, hearing their optimism and enthusiasm about their lives and listening to chipper songs makes things worse, it's like being pierced right through the heart. Why can't I be like that? Why did this happen to me? That's what I think when I'm surrounded by all those bright things. "Sad" music doesn't make me worse, it makes me feel comforted, it fools me into believing that I'm not alone, even when I am.

I'm a bit like a cancer at the moment, or a pathogen. Every time I open up to someone and try to make them understand, they become infected with my rather morbid and twisted perspective on life. I have to feel guilty for that, I can't not feel responsible for bringing people down, not quite to my level, but further down than they were before. Another good reason to stay away from the general population, I need to contain myself. I don't mean to do that to anyone, but it seems maybe subconsciously I wanted everyone to feel like I do, just so they would understand. No one understand though and the more time I have to think about it, the more I don't want them to understand, the more I don't want them to feel what I feel.

Every day my moods go up and down for no reason. Every day I flip from wanting to be with people, to wanting to be alone. I talk to people when I'm feeling particularly lonely most of the time, but I'm putting a stop to that, I don't want to rely on people for too long. Every day is like a continuous journey that I can only go on by myself and the destination just seems completely out of my reach. I don't think I'll ever get to where I want to go, because I don't know where I'm going.

To directly confront my life critics, all I can say is that I am trying. I know it must seem to some that sitting by myself, listening to music or just walking around for hours isn't a way to help myself, but it is. It's my way. I may not see a psychiatrist and I may not talk it out with other people, but that isn't a justification for saying that I'm not trying. Isn't every person different?

Maybe my ways don't work entirely, but I can't do everything everyone wants me to do, I just can't. I probably won't get better to be brutally honest, maybe because I can't see any future for me or because I don't care anymore. I can't spend everyday having to deal with my inner monologue while other people get to go around carefree. It's not fair, life isn't. I know that. At the moment I'm just being and trying, but I'm still contagious. I'm not going to infect people anymore.

I'm sorry for being so down and messed up and I'm sorry for not being able to try harder and get better like loads of other people do. I am truly sorry for pretty much everything people think I am doing wrong, but to me it seems completely rational and for a purpose. I know I'm not like most people, I know sometimes the things I do are ridiculous, reckless and dangerous and that's not usually me, but I'm not me at the moment and I can't be damned with consequences. What else could possibly go wrong for me? Why should I even bother caring? If my reason for caring is only for the impact on other people all of the time and not for myself, that's a waste of my life isn't it? At the moment I'm pretty sure it's the only reason I'm still alive, that and bad luck.

I think people should just let me be and end up where I want to be, wherever that is and stop misdirecting me. I love talking to my close friends, but at the moment their brutal honesty just hurts me and brings me to tears. I just want people to see what I see, but they can't or just won't indulge me, not even for a few seconds. Knowing that breaks my heart a bit more. I would rather not know a lot of things at the moment.

2012: That's A Wrap Everyone!

Well, it has been quite a year. When I was thinking about writing this I thought, where the hell do I start?!  I can't begin at the beginning of 2012 because either can't remember much of it, or it was entirely uneventful. So I'm just going to pick some key moments and run with that and because I'm feeling particularly sentimental, I'll end with my thoughts on the closest people in my life. Sounds like a plan, alrighty then.

First things first, I became an "aunt" again, with the newest member of our family, Braxton Jordan, being born in April. He was the tiniest creature I have ever seen in my life, new to this world and so delicate to hold. I'll admit I had this insane fear that I was going to break him, he just seemed so precious to me. His birth was definitely a beautiful event this year.

Following April I suppose a big moment for me, definitely the highlight of my year, was my solo trip to England to study abroad at the University of East Anglia (UEA). I don't know what I was expecting, knowing me it wouldn't have been much, a terrible accident or injury perhaps? Whatever I had previously thought, UEA blew my mind. I met so many warm and energetic people from all around the world and I'm glad to call quite a few of them friends now. I had this once in a lifetime opportunity to live and study in Norwich and London for a little over four weeks and I had the time of my life. I was already completely in love with London, but Norwich was not what I expected at all. I'm a city girl, loud noises and cafes on every corner is what I'm used to. Norwich was not loud, it wasn't overflowing with cafes at all, but it was quaint and held so much history and beauty, I fell in love with the small town too. I got to learn a lot more than contemporary British theatre while I was there. I think I found out what it was like to be completely out of your comfort zone, surrounded by people you don't know and I love the independence it inspired. I've never regretted studying abroad, it was probably the best thing I have ever or will ever do.

Theatre kids take London. Mana, Jeff, Anna, George (me), Mackenzie and Lana.

After my incredible adventure to the Motherland, the year really went down hill very quickly. Within the space of three months I got the "opportunity" to move three times, once legitimately my own choice. It was rough on me and incredibly upsetting, but that's life for you. I have now settled in the Inner West of Sydney with my best friend and another girl I went to school with. I think this place suits me much better than the Eastern suburbs where I'm originally from, although the coffee definitely isn't as good, cheaper though. It's very hard at times, living with friends, you're bound to get at each other's throats a bit and that has happened, but overall it's not that hard. Moving out was always a plan of mine before I turned 21 anyway and I accomplished that, perhaps not on my own terms though.

So that leads us to another major (somewhat major) event, I turned the ripe old age of 21 in the same week I finished my Bachelor of Arts degree. So not only am I old now, I've also finished University with a degree in History, set to graduate in April of 2013.  My birthday week was incredible in comparison to how my life generally is, I got to spend time with friends, receive fabulous gifts and I felt very loved. My party was small but everything I wanted, it was probably one of the greatest weeks of my life. 

My eldest sister Cass, George and my second eldest sister Jessie on my 21st birthday.

Those were the main events of 2012 I suppose. Everything else is irrelevant now and not particularly interesting. I did get to see Bill Bailey and Noel Fielding with friends. I changed my hair plenty of times, changed jobs, lost (very little) weight, slow walkers pissed me off even more than usual, I tried to be more social (failed) and struggled with my depression and eating disorder again. See? Completely irrelevant daily stuff, not very interesting. 

So you're probably wondering, George, where is this going now? You've just wrapped 2012 up! Not quite, not quite darlings. My wrap up would not be complete unless I took this final opportunity to mention a few people who made this year bearable. Bear with me here, I'm an emotional being at times.

To:

Cass - My darling eldest sister, what an inspiration you are! I'm so glad I found you again.

Jessie - My constant companion always, you're even more beautiful on the inside.

Gabby - My oldest friend, my philosophical equal.

Laura - My other half.

Thea - One of the smartest and kindest souls I know.

Vick - My sister from another mother, father, country, different birth date...

Anna - A beautiful lady, one I wish I had met so much earlier.

Jenny - My feisty Russian doll and protector.

Drew - A warm-hearted beauty.

Lily - A top notch baker and an even better friend (if possible).

Timothy - Terribly bad (but funny) accents, bizarre stories and endearingly odd.

Mitchell - My favourite cousin, you deserve so much more out of this life, I hope it shapes up for you.

Nanna - Sorry I let you down, but everyone has their own dream.

Mum - Thank you for everything, but how did you forget to pick me up?!

One pissed off Kindy student.  You forgot that Mum!

Dad - No I'm just moody, I don't get my period everyday of the year, thank you very much.

That is it guys, that's a wrap for 2012 with all the highs and lows this year has brought me.

Was there a point to all of this? I'd like to think there was. If my life has taught me anything, it is that I should be thankful for the things I do have and what I'm most thankful for is the people I have, hence the messages. You should know that the one thing I wanted most in life was to make people happy, that has always been the goal. I hope I was somewhat successful in my endeavour, even if it made you happy for a second, that's good enough for me. It's also the reason that I have this persistent desire to take hundreds of photos every time I'm out with friends, to update my Facebook status, to write a blog entry, all because I want that documentation of my happiness with others. I just wanted to capture all those good moments and never forget them, I know how easy it is to forget those magic moments at times. So I apologise now for my obsessive updating of Facebook and this blog and taking large amounts of photos of every person I know. 

Now this was a happy moment for me, terrifying, but happy.

Thank you my lovelies, you have been spectacular, sincerely. GRMB.

A thought on life:

"And if I can take part in it by transforming my own consciousness, then someone else's, I'm happy to do it." 

- Bill Hicks

Prescription Pills: The Making of Wonderful Disasters.

"I'm a wonderful disaster. So are you. We're all a mess. We're in this culture that says take this pill and you'll be happy, go on this diet and you'll be thinner, have your teeth whitened, people will love you more." 
This is society in a nutshell. 

I want to correct something for you or better yet, provide you with some new insights I've just recently realised. To mention a post of mine from way back, when I was discussing drugs and the possibility that they're not all that bad, I have something new to add to that discussion. I still believe we can't really judge people who choose to use drugs and I still think they have had some positive impacts, however I'm starting to think that the point of me writing that post was to validate my own actions. I don't consider myself a drug-taker (most of them don't) but I can't deny the fact I've abused them. Prescriptions pills most definitely and very rarely, alcohol too.

Prescription pill "popping" is probably a lot more common than most people think. I consider those warnings more of a guideline anyway, people assume they know how much they can handle (myself included). It just so happens that in my case I can take quite a hit from many different types of pills e.g. valium, xanax, panadeine forte etc. They're all prescription only, but these days doctors seem more than happy to give them out to you (a big part of the problem), it's only the pharmacist that's a bit iffy. So unlike alcohol, I can handle these sorts of drugs. I've used and abused them at times, always at dark times and I never achieve anything apart from grogginess, pain and confusion. When I was thinking about this last night it did strike me that I was a lot more like my mother than I had previously thought. I know there is a lot of talk about addictions being linked to your genetics and I do believe that, but maybe when I was judging my mother (well, considering more like) I was ignoring my own abuses of drugs. I think maybe I do actually belong to that group of drug-takers I was discussing, maybe that's what bugs me so much when people want to criticise something they can't understand. I can understand these sorts of addictions because a) well acquainted with so many people with addiction problems and b) on occasion I happen to belong to that group that is so criticised by our "society." (Note: Society sucks)

With that realisation, I can't say I will actually change anything about my "problem." It's more recreational than a habit (true story), it's more for pain than for needing the pills to survive and it's usually to aid the process of dying. Considering all those attempts have failed, maybe I'm just not very good at drug-taking or my body just keeps outsmarting my mind (not a hard task). Regardless of why I choose to take prescription drugs, I would really hate to see what my internal organs look like now, let's put it that way.

In regards to suicide and prescription pills though, people always seem to believe that overdosing is a much more womanly way to die. There is less mess, less pain (so they think) and it's quick (sometimes). People are idiots and most certainly wrong about those assumptions and I can't for the life of me understand where they got their information from (if they have ANY), but I have heard this sort of rubbish time and time again. Apparently shooting yourself or something more violent is a "manly" way to die. Bullshit.  I'm not even going to bother correcting them because it's just ridiculous, but I would say to people who criticise the way someone chooses to die that maybe they should focus on why someone would want to die in the first place. It doesn't matter how someone dies, isn't the loss of a life itself more important? How is just the details, why is what is more important. Then again, some people really get a kick out of being cold-hearted and mean-spirited and I've never really liked those sorts of individuals anyway.

There was really no point to this post really, I just wanted to correct some of my previous statements. I left out prescription drugs altogether in my last drugs post because it's a touchy subject for me, it's still quite raw in fact because it's very close to me. Illicit drugs, alcohol abuse, all of those drug addictions are close as well, but they're not me, I don't do those sorts of things (not willingly anyway, I have been spiked), so it is a lot easier to be objective (somewhat) about those habits. I'm correcting my previous errors now because it just seemed like the right time to do it and I have to say, I do wish doctors would stop being so giving with all the drugs. I really don't like doctors. Maybe at some point it was about curing people and helping them, now it seems to be acceptable to load them up with goodies. I'm not blaming them (whoever they are, loads of people probably), individuals ultimately choose whether or not they're going to abuse them but less access would be handy. I just don't know, what do other people think?

I do seriously believe people need to be more aware of seemingly harmless drugs like those prescribed to you as being addictive as well, instead of just assuming that if a doctor prescribes it, it must be good for you. A load of good it has done for me. They have never helped me, they have only ever aided my own destruction. I could probably blame our social atmosphere for that, because that's the flaw with our society isn't it? Everything good just decays. We'll do whatever we're told, we'll take whatever we're given and we ultimately abuse and twist all those "good" things until we are these "wonderful disasters." We're all a mess really.

Regrets & mistakes, they're memories made.

Talking to people about my problems is not natural, it's not me. If you believe in personality types, which I certainly do, it definitely isn't me. I've had to take those tests for numerous reasons and I always end up with INTJ, introverted, intuitive, thinking and judging.

The introverted part is obvious, that isn't a problem for me now, although attempting to be more social is. It's the thinking and the judging. I much prefer to observe and be objective, to be in control with concrete plans that I follow through. Being emotional, talking about feelings and worries, it's just not me. Everyone knows that, so when I try and tell people about some of my problems for a change, no one takes me seriously. It is incredibly heartbreaking when you summon up the courage to talk to someone and they laugh at you, or they tell you to grow up and change your attitude.

So I have tried talking to people. I have tried seeing people. I have tried ignoring people. Nothing works. Whenever I try and speak, I just choke up. Whenever I go out with people, I'm physically there but I am not there. Ignoring people doesn't work much either, my ability to feel guilt and to worry always kills that idea. 

The past two weeks have been torture. Thursday evening and Friday were more than torture, I can't even describe it. Looking back now with a slightly clearer mind, I just keep thinking of all the things I should have done. I shouldn't have tried to make people understand because they couldn't, I shouldn't have told anyone I was unhappy and I definitely should have switched my phone off or taken the battery out. I should have stayed on the floor and not moved for anything, because maybe then I would have succeeded. Despite any consequences, any hurt feelings, all things which I already feel guilt for, it was what I wanted more than anything in the world. All I did though was reinforce my own opinion, which is that I am just a failure at everything. I've backed myself into a corner I just cannot get out of, every possibility just causes more pain and suffering.

I can't live and I can't die. I make people unhappy by being here and I make people unhappy by trying to leave here. I couldn't be perfect for my parents so that I could make them happy and because they're not happy, I can't be happy either.  I can't fix them and so I can't fix myself. My only source of happiness is the ability to make other people happy. If I can't make people happy then what good am I? That's my job, it's my place and it's where I thought I fit in the world, in my group of friends and in my family. But I just keep failing everyone and myself. I'm just hurting people by making them unhappy because I'm unhappy. On Friday I couldn't find myself. I don't remember getting up, I don't remember going downstairs or how I got from the bathroom to a park, but I do remember the devastation that the morning brought me and I do remember breaking down in a park suffocated by guilt. I got home somehow and just broke down in front of my best friend. It was a relief then, but it's a regret now. I cried my heart out to my Nanna and now all I feel is shame. I started quoting a Blake poem to her and described myself as being like a Robin in a cage and she thought I was mental. This weekend has just past and I still don't know where I actually am or how I feel. I think this is nothingness.   

So I'm not going to try and talk about my problems anymore, because it doesn't help me and it's my place to be the one listening, not talking. I'm not going to tell people I'm unhappy ever again because it just kicks my empathy into overdrive and I change my plans to make other people happy. Who would have thought empathy was a weakness? It is though. I can't do anything right now because I made promises to people and I don't break my promises, but I can't do nothing and I can't say anything because, despite this blog post, I'd rather be alone at the end and let people remain unaware for as long as possible. I would rather be sad and alone than to hurt my friends and family, which is all I seem to be able to do. 

So as Elvis sang, "a little less conversation, a little more action." I'll drink to that. 

I just want you to know who I am.

To get straight to the point, I have had absolutely no luck recently.  Injuries, depression, worries and friend's problems, it's a lot for one person to deal with apparently. I had a fabulous birthday, everything was perfect, it was too good to be true. Obviously it was a little too good, because this week has just proved to me that good things don't ever last longer than a few days for me.

These past few days have been a slap to the face, a snap back to reality. All I can say is that life, specifically my life, is terrifying, disappointing and painful. It's even more painful when you really don't want to be here anymore. There are a handful of people in this world, family and friends, that would break my heart if they left me. The people that can make you laugh, smile and cry, sometimes simultaneously. Perhaps that's a good motive to go first, then I don't have to suffer that pain. Selfish, but even the thought of my parents ever leaving me is too much to deal with. I'd hate for them to leave and it hurts me to think of leaving them, even though I've tried to quite a few times now.

Sometimes though, those people you cherish the most aren't enough to halt the inevitable or destroy your despair. Even if you're in love with someone and you want to give them everything you have and share every moment with them, it just isn't enough. Just being in love with someone is an ordeal in itself, it's a bit like a thunderstorm. There's bright lights, loud noises and you're startled, but then there's rain and it's both fierce and calming. You're frightened, but at the same time you can't look away even if it means you get completely soaked to the bone. You can recognise something beautiful and terrifying when you see it and it makes you stay, despite all the fear. That's always what I've thought love to be anyway, something so powerful, destructive and beautiful all at once.

Even love and everything it encompasses isn't enough sometimes and really, if that isn't enough, what else could be? Hicks said there's a clear choice between fear and love and while I think the man was brilliant, sometimes there isn't that clear choice and that fear and your love for people meld into something dark and twisted. That's true despair.

I took a look at my life recently and I didn't like what I saw. I am so sick and tired of pain and hurting people, most of all I hate to disappoint people. I have been such a disappointment. I behaved myself throughout school because my sister was the rebellious child and my parents expected me to be good. I went to University because my family wanted me to go and be successful, not because I wanted to. I studied History because I originally loved it and so did my Nanna, but then she realised I didn't want to be a History teacher and she grew disappointed too. I've made all these choices and shaped my life around all these expectations and what I'm left with is nothing I originally wanted and absolutely no aspirations of my own. I've missed out on all the things other people my age have already done, all those relationships and stories they can tell, but I can't because it wasn't right of me to do those things when I was expected to be such a prim and proper person. I'm not saying I wasn't true to myself, I always wore what I wanted, listened to musicians who inspired me and picked my own influences, but my main choices were made for me. Maybe that's why I'm in such a mess now, I have no one to make my choices and I'm much better at managing other people and their problems than I am at managing myself.

This week I just wanted some sort of answer. I wanted to know where I was going. I wanted some sort of epiphany or talent that would take me somewhere. Instead I realised I had absolutely nothing, apart from my family and a few close friends, I have nothing of value to offer anyone. It's a terrible thing to rely on other people for your own happiness. I realised this, I bother people too much. I had some sort of moment of clarity when I realised that ending this, whatever this is, was the only thing I could choose for myself. I went from being so completely surrounded by darkness into somewhere brighter, just at the thought that I would never have to worry again. I wrote out all these notes and letters, not suicide notes, just notes of gratitude to everyone that I thought was significant in my life but who I had never gotten to thank. I wrote one to an art teacher I had whose kindness used to make me cry, another to one of my history teachers who I was always a bitch to and said something nasty to, something I still regret three years later. I wanted to thank him while I had the chance because he was actually amazing, perhaps a tad intimidating though. So I wrote out all these notes and they were heartfelt and genuine and I wrote them with feeling, like they would be my last ever words and my last chance to let them know how much I valued their impact on my life. When I woke up the next day, I was completely devastated. All my despair returned, all the things I wrote still sat there and I still can't touch them now. It's a bit like being tortured by some sort of mirage you see in the distance and as soon as you brush your fingertips against it, it just slips away again.

I spent hours and hours today just worrying and crying. I'll probably do the same tomorrow and the day after that, because there is no point to my life at the moment. There's nothing I want to achieve, there's nothing I want to do, I just want peace and some ending. I don't want to disappoint people but I don't want to be the same person. I've gone too far now though and I can't change anymore. I can't be bothered competing in a world full of people and I can't be bothered pretending to enjoy life. My father wrote on my birthday card last week that I should "love life" and all I could think of was that yes, I really should, but I don't. God I love my friends and my family and I would do anything for them, all I ask is that sometime soon they let me go. I just don't belong here anymore and I can feel it in my heart that these days are limited and those few moments when I laugh or when I smile, they are fewer and farther between. I don't want to leave though and be remembered as this loner, depressed girl, who hated parties and sat by herself. I want my family and my friends to remember how much I loved them and those moments when they made me laugh or smile, they were genuine moments. I want them to know how much their company and their happiness meant to me. Seeing my friends and my family happy has I think, been the highlight and greatest joy of my life.

New age: Same old shit.

"Life is only a dream and we are the imagination of ourselves."
Bill Hicks

One of the things that really struck me reading Stephen Fry's first autobiography Moab Is My Washpot, was the letter he wrote for his future self (for when he was 25), as a seventeen year old teen, who would later attempt suicide. Now this letter stuck for me two main reasons, it was slightly presumptuous, you don't know if you'll actually be alive to read it (suicide attempts generally shorten those odds) and the fact that this letter was so moving. He described a complete transformation from teen to adult, from thoughts of freedom and idealism to the banal mind of an adult. 

The reason I'm reproducing my thoughts about this letter now, is because it is the eve of my 21st birthday. The age of majority and "adulthood," whatever that means. I'm still trying to work it all out. The thought of writing a letter to myself doesn't appeal to me at all, but Fry's reasons behind writing it do. The realisation that everything you think is so significant and important to you now, may not be the case in the future, as life generally wears you down, is terrifying really. Does that mean 5 years from now, when I hopefully have some sort of career, I won't be as passionate about certain ideas or people, like the words of Bill Hicks? Hopefully this isn't the case, because that would kill me. I can't imagine a 9-5 job, debt and general weariness as being the ideal life for me. At least Fry did escape this, in my opinion anyway, he still seems as passionate about life as ever.

Turning 21 still doesn't sound that fun though. I typically don't care much for birthdays, other people's births I will celebrate, my own I won't. Personally it's all a bit hyped up and we should actually be thanking our parents on the day of our birth, our mothers especially, they did do all the work. I've also had absolutely no luck on the 22nd of November, it marks the anniversary of JFK's assassination, Michael Hutchence's death and the day each year I am very disappointed with life and stuck listening to INXS, with some JFK documentary on in the background. Anticipation of the day, I think, is better than the day itself. 

My plans for the coming year though, well, they're quite limited. I don't really have any aspirations or dreams, apart from travelling the world and discovering some form of enlightenment. As for a career, I'm stumped. I've never really shown an aptitude for any particular career path or skill. I do lack talent, but am lucky enough to be surrounded by talented friends. I think that sort of makes up for it. Maybe the reason I'm so dreading turning 21 is that, now that I have finished University, people are expecting me to pursue some dream career and in the case of my family, settle down and start a family as soon as possible. The latter expectation may be put on hold indefinitely, I don't see it ever happening. The first part though, that I should really start working on.

So I guess it's goodbye teens and being part of the weird inbetweener group. Twenty wasn't that great an age anyway, or possibly it was average and external events ruined and tarnished it for me. All I know is I won't look back on being twenty with fondness. Maybe this year can be better? I hope so, I doubt it though.

21 - it's probably going to suck. Let's wait and see. 

I had to end with my favourite quote from Bill Hicks. I hope I do always cherish his ideas.

"The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly colored, and it's very loud, and it's fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, "Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, "Hey, don't worry; don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." And we … kill those people. "Shut him up! I've got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real." It's just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn't matter, because it's just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one."
Bill Hicks

Open relationships: Open to criticism.

Blogging today about relationships seems so over done and dull, but it's not exactly conventional relationships I'm musing on. I very recently entered a relationship with someone, obviously. Now this person is absolutely brilliant, very smart, very funny and completely out of my league, but we have quite a connection. That's important to note once I get to the response I've gotten from being in this relationship.

So this guy is a sweetheart really. Absolutely perfect even with his imperfections. I met him overseas and since then we have Skyped, texted and called each other frequently. I ended up getting propositioned and agreed. So that's the beginning of the complexities of our relationship, long distance. Personally, it doesn't bother me at all. Physical desire is one thing, but to lust after someone's mind and soul is quite another. For me, attraction usually involves those latter elements, I don't really focus on the physical until much later.

Obviously I was overjoyed at being paired with someone so brilliant and above me, I was smiling for days. However, there's a bit of a twist. You see, this relationship involves another lovely woman, who was once this guy's girlfriend. An open relationship it is. That sounds kind of bizarre, but he was open and honest about their "friends with benefits" partnership and frankly, I have no reason not to believe him. He asked me if that was okay, with the possibility of other women being involved, and after quite a few drinks I agreed.

There are benefits to this sort of relationship, no matter what people generally believe. There is honesty, affection and tolerance, which is very important. I think the biggest aspect is compromise though. I can compromise on this because I do feel quite guilty about being here while he's over there. Most importantly though, the other woman or possibly, women,  are people who can offer things I can't and maybe it's the distraction I'm after. I like a certain amount of distance to be honest, I can't reveal everything about myself except to the closest of friends, maybe they can. It also disguises a lot of my imperfections for the foreseeable future. Not that I'm lying to him, but I'm never completely myself around people I fancy a lot, it gets too personal that way. I can't do that.

I have had to deal with a wide variety of reactions to my relationship though, mostly negative ones. I can understand people who think it's quite wrong for one person to have another and myself to be faithful, but those people are dead wrong. We're both faithful and I'm not a complete idiot. If I can deal with it, other people can suck it up. The worst response though were people who assume you have to be physically near someone to be in a relationship. I think some people need to control themselves, I just do not care that much for physicality anyway. Besides, I'm not expecting a long-term romance or something life-changing to occur, but I will settle with what I'm offered. People like to feel wanted sometimes.

Basically the sum of all this is just to say open relationships can work (I hope so anyway) and aren't all bad. Would I prefer not to be in one? Yes, but we all have to make sacrifices. I never thought I would be a part of one, I'm much too shy to do these sorts of things, so I'm not going to go out and find somebody else on the side, I couldn't do that, but I have only a few problems with someone that does. Not that I'll tell him that, he's happy and he's lovely and the most important thing, he actually fancies me too. That's different and because of that, the other details I can ignore.