What IS An Intangible Battle?

Silence... not moving, or making a decision is still a decision.

The worst of it is over, and I accept and understand each failure I made as I completed my final senior thesis for a B.A. degree. It took over three years, four if you include the year of me struggling to develop some semblance of a workable plan.

The depression was obvious. It would creep into my day, drowning me in loneliness until I had to replenish the tears with alcohol. Then that stretched into questionable nightly habits, desperately clinging on to comedy shows that alleviated the pain that cut into me. That pain morphed into my body, causing odd bathroom breaks with occasional blood and farts that would make a manly man blush. What was first my mental struggle had become a full-blown physical attack.

After the abuse from horrible eating and drinking habits, I finally took action in August to determine just why the blood keeps coming. Hemorrhoids could not be the only culprit, how can they burst so often, even if I do go on good stretches of exercise? What has not helped is the last bond of straining to restrain my body in a chair as I stare at a screen, hoping for the last of a paper to finalize in the appropriate time frame.

Then just a few days ago, I sealed the coffin with the last nail. After having a quick swim and breakfast, I jumped into cleaning up a rough presentation. Down to the wire, I was willing to offer the first (and only draft) of my paper to my professors for their discerning eyes. The moment the papers left my hands, a bit more control rushed into me.

Just as I have been taking responsibility for what I now acknowledge as ADHD; as I have accepted and mending a bacterial overgrowth of the small intestine; as I have countered my depression and anxiety with vigilant meditation and reflection; as I have accepted my weakness for excess of placebos for happiness, I accept the failures and mishaps that I would not have experienced otherwise. I would not have been inspired to discover that Playback Theater was a perfect place for me to internship with. If it were not for the thesis process, I would not have received my first ever rejection letter from a magazine editor. If it was not for my misguided hope to write a musical based on a famous singer-song writer, I would not have had the chance to talk to a professional in the music label industry.

There were plenty of chances for me to fall back into old habits. I even fell into temptation a few times. There was the occasional day of overeating, but I had to be careful what I ate in case my bowels decided to act up. Irrational shopping was eventually reversed by admitting my weakness and making a mindful plan to detract the power of it. Then twice last week, I had a drink.

Last Sunday was the worst. Instead of an intangible battle, it was an intangible war. Going to a wedding for an old childhood friend was overwhelming. Anxiety froze me into place, depression rattled my body with a malaise, my ADHD threading strings of lucid awareness and hyper-awareness into the outdoor ceremony. There was no chance I could take any of my medications early, it wasn't time yet. In such an important event, it would be difficult to go off and exercise the stress out. Most of all, any sense of logic was under full attack from the hurricane of emotions that it was difficult to see the center of the storm.

Okay so it wasn't a drink. There were several... maybe seven? That emotional response provided me a chance to boldly approach an old best friend who I had not talked to in a long time. But after that night I regretted all the drinking. Despite that guilt, that did not stop me from having a glass of port the night before my thesis presentation.

That will be the last time college will induce me into drinking. My liver has suffered abuse that was meant for the brain, and my thoughts have managed to catch up to logic. Intangible battles are mental and emotional responses to intense, difficult situations. The pain that was recorded internally became so unbearable that physical abuse was necessary to nullify the maddening thoughts and rambling emotions.

Handing a paper over, feeling my bags lighten from the absence of that package has helped. The steps I have taken recently reinforces the strength that has taken several years to rebuild. The mirage of perfection that I had been chasing has dissipated, revealing a starkly color world that I have somehow failed to notice for several years. For a change I can see the world for what it is... not what I want to see, or how others would want me to see it.

People will judge me for being unemployed and just get over myself. Others will judge me for still living with my parents and that I should carry my own weight. Some think I am whining and don't know just how good I have it and shouldn't throw away what good I have now.

They know hardly anything about me. I know hardly anything about them. We have no idea just how many thoughts run through our brains all the time. Everyone has their own inner battles. May it be a battle for inner peace, quietness, balance, faith, God, Goddess, Spaghetti Monster, Cathulu, or Universe... Our minds are fluid, thoughts and opinions ever changing. We are hardly ever the same person, even from a minute ago. Intangible battles are the changing tides of the mind, and this is a spiritual or holistic transformation that we all inevitably face.

Shedding Skin, Dandruff By Dandruff

I feel like I'm nit-picking at a whole stretch of skin. Except of dealing with dry skin, I am dealing with a personality that just doesn't work.

How do I properly vocalize that I am not even living my own life? For the longest time, I was thinking I was just plain depressed and didn't know what to do. Yet now I am thinking, no, I know what I want to do. But there is something that I keep falling back into. Maybe it is a habit, or a well-trained person. Just the good little girl that was expected of me.

Good god, if I was supposed to be someone's tool, then I'd rather be dead than to have someone else take over my mind.

F--k culture trying to brainwash kids into being the images that their parents want them to be. Gender-typifying, stereotyping standards, ect. It is enough to make me want to go screaming around in the stores cursing their intrusive advertising attacks. I can't even shop any more.

To be with my boyfriend or certain groups of friends, I feel awake, more myself than I ever have been. But the moment I go into "normal" situations, I feel the pressure of being plain boxy normal.

There is a reason that part of my depression has included anger. I HATE being pressured into being something that I am not.

There is so much ignorance, uneducated, and underdeveloped people who run on insufficient information. And to be dealing with the lack of their curiosity kills me. How do you not want to understand even just a few things about your life? Why live the life that someone else has prescribed for you? Does it even work for you? What makes you think that your diet is sufficient and will make you a healthy and efficient human being?

And to acknowledge my own laziness is beyond frustrating. I live in two realities with two personalities, and right now it is bothering the cr-p out of me. I feel as though my therapist talks down to me, saying I am "a good, sweet, innocent young lady".

A. Suggesting I am good, means that you will react negatively if I were to voice my anger and things that I would otherwise not tell my parents.

B. Fuck being sweet. I don't want to be sweet. I want to be taken seriously you old geezer.

C. Innocent? Naive? Maybe a bit because I haven't been in certain circumstances, but it does not make me an idiot. And I am certainly more aware then some dumb-asses out there in the world.

D. Are you suggesting that I know absolutely nothing?

E. Fuck you, that sounds insulting. Why can't I just be a woman? Do you see yourself as someone above me?

This pisses me off, and the fact that I act differently in two different arenas. I fucking hate that I can't speak out loud the way I want to. Why can't I just get down to the nitty-gritty? I do NOT want to fucking talk about the damn circles that I have talked about before. I am done with that part of my life. You are making me relive something I have already forgiven and forgotten and have moved on in my life.

I am pissed off more at the fact that I have to listen to your assumptions. We haven't even gotten to the good part yet, why are you jumping down my throat?

I want my own god-damned life, and at 23, I'd say it's long overdue for a teenage rebellion. Fuck being the good little girl. I've grown up and changed. It's about time that my surroundings have done the same.

It Stings Under The Skin, Over The Mind

So I titled this blog, Intangible Battles. Why's that?

Because I am obsessed fascinated by the struggles of the mind and soul. More often my favorite books involve a mental struggle for the protagonist.

But what happens when that mental struggle arises during real life? You can't just save and load the game later... Can't close and read it when you are in a good mood.  That's what makes it real life, it's harder and crazier than you imagined. And when you fail, it's way different than you imagined.

I will admit, I've been naive for most of my life. Sheltered, really, from harsh realities. Doesn't stop me from being interested in them, and hoping I drop into reality someday. Fantasy is tiring... childhood has to stop sometime.

So I am taking a moment to reflect on a topic that has been gravitating to me for months. Depression. A state where you feel worth less than you deserve; where you top to think only of the failures and weaknesses, no matter how strong you really are. It's the point when you give up, and float away from everything else.

I have not been diagnosed with depression nor really heard from a professional about this, but I have deducted this from screenings and my past actions, that I have gone through something like this. Most of all, I have the most stubborn personality and tend to refuse to give up or become suicidal. The moment I lost my stubbornness, was the  moment I clued in to what was going on. I don't know about other people, but our bodies thrive to live... No matter how transitional your mind is, or how much you reach past parts of your mortality, your body still has the will and need to live. It's when you enter the situation of fight or flight that your feet will lead you to that ledge. I have felt my feet walk one way, while my mind flew in another direction. How horrifying is it to be actually separated from your mind and body? They deserve to work together, but separation and disagreements will only lead to frustration.

Depression made me someone that I'm not. And it's horrifying to see what destruction it has done to my life. Even worse, it's common... as familiar as the common cold. But much worse. While a cold may hold you back for a day or so, depression (depending on your self-esteem and confidence) can lower you to a more despicable you: Anger, mood swings, and really bad sleeping habits.

So don't hesitate, and act on it. Stop that little mind bug, and pull it out before it takes away your will. Check out these sites below, or go talk to a consular to get back on track.

All the best.
~Moi

http://www.webmd.com/depression/default.htm
http://helpguide.org/mental/depression_signs_types_diagnosis_treatment.htm
http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/depression.html
http://www.liveyourlifewell.org/