melting surroundings

as if your eyes are made of shattered glass 
and behind them there’s water and shame 
and sand and anger 
and leaves and disbelief 
and wind and disgust 
and heat and fear

circular waves of blurry edges 
never to fully form themselves to true and visible lines and borders

#bpdawareness #blurredidentity #mentalhealthjourney #arttherapy #selfexploration #visualpoetry #audiovisualart #experimentalvideo #videoartist #blur #lumakey #resolume (hier: Park Babelsberg) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgmFftzg82v/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#btw21 #aushalten #intersektionalität #copingstrategies #gefühlezulassen #texteschreiben #weinen #gemeinsameinsam #müde #justvibing #livingmybestlife #indeutschland https://www.instagram.com/p/CUUt4D6s9Ps/?utm_medium=tumblr

CN medication, psychiatry, therapy I take my pills everyday. Sometimes I think I shouldn’t. Most times I understand that - right now - I need them. I am afraid of being dependent on them, of needing them for the rest of my life just to function. Most days, i am thankful for the opportunity to afford medication, that it’s accessible to me. Some days I think, why should I continue to impact my physical health in unknown ways and keep myself medicated, just to make others more comfortable in my presence, to adhere to societal expectations of correct behaviour and acceptable demeanour. In the end, I make those choices every day. Every morning, I can decide: do I continue, is this right, does this feel right to me, does it help ME? As long as I can remember, I was told „don’t take that“ „you can do without“ „be careful“ and all of those things, people think they can tell you without being medical professionals or ‘at least’ struggling with anything similar ... and in all honesty, i think my life probably would’ve been easier and the path much straighter and definitely less painful, if I hadn’t listened to them and just tried shit out sooner... i mean, I have been in some sort of therapy since my early teens, just most of it without medication and with a lot of compromises and some questionable guidance ... but still I’m content with the present. I would never ever be in the same place mentally, as strong as I am right now. I would’ve never met the people, who make my life so special and joyful. I would’ve never developed into this person, who I finally can allow myself to respect and love, even understand and be proud of sometimes. Just throwing this out there. If you need help, don’t EVER think you don’t deserve it, or that it’s to weak or to shameful to ask for it. It’s actually very brave and responsible to care for yourself and to take your needs seriously. Demand the support you want and deserve from yourself, from the people in your life, from society and community and those few professional structures, we can try and profit from. #endthestigmaofmentalhealth #psychiatric #medication #bpdawareness #adhdstruggles #depressionisreal #askforhelp https://www.instagram.com/p/CNuM7eyHD88/?igshid=1wyx037f8n92p

#beingdorothy #dialektischbehavioraletherapie #borderlinepersönlichkeitsstörung #emotionalinstabil #persönlichkeitsstörungen #depressionen #adhs #kptbs #psychotherapie #kommunikation #gedankenundgefühle #seelenarbeit #geistigewelt #gedankenchaos #schreibenhilft #kreativesschreiben #schreibtherapie #brücken #strukturen #texten #emotionen #verarbeiten #ausdruck https://www.instagram.com/p/CFdFurPnwUy/?igshid=1ekqpfhhxbff3

#milosctomilosc #loveisloveislove #liebeistliebe #любовьэтолюбовь #queereliteratur #lgbtqiaplus #queereliebe #bisexuelle #jüdische #russin #inpolen #internationalesolidarität #słubicefrankfurtpride #slubice #frankfurtodersłubice #frankfurtoder #lgbteuropa #texte #geschichtenundgedanken #worteundgefühle #prideparadepoland #queerespotsdam #gegenrechts #fcknzs #dankefürdieorga #dankefürdieliebe #freundschaften #feindschaften #kreativesschreiben #schreibenhilft (hier: Frankfurt an der Oder) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEzusI8HFs5/?igshid=1cmc50ksds4xf

#milosctomilosc #loveisloveislove #liebeistliebe #любовьэтолюбовь #queereliteratur #lgbtqiaplus #queereliebe #bisexuelle #jüdische #russin #inpolen #internationalesolidarität #słubicefrankfurtpride #slubice #frankfurtodersłubice #frankfurtoder #lgbteuropa #texte #geschichtenundgedanken #worteundgefühle #prideparadepoland #queerespotsdam #gegenrechts #fcknzs #dankefürdieorga #dankefürdieliebe #freundschaften #feindschaften #kreativesschreiben #schreibenhilft (hier: Słubice, Poland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEzpX4jn-Ka/?igshid=auhofy5ta080

gender repeal —————————— Immer wieder: Frauen sind|haben|wollen [...] Männer sind|haben|wollen [...] Sonst gibt es nichts. Mein Leben geprägt davon, Und im Kopf immer die Frage, Warum? Warum kann ich besser werfen als Thomas und bin nicht so grazil wie Maria? Macht mich das mehr zum Kerl oder weniger Frau? Und ist das wirklich alles, stumpfe Binarität? Zu laut, nicht nett genug. Worte, Annahmen, Regeln, um mir meine Energie zu rauben, mich mundtot zu machen, mich zweifeln zu lassen, um mein Selbst klein zu halten und mir Grenzen aufzuerlegen. Und warum höre ich darauf? Wenn ich zurückdenke an all die Spielchen, die von einer* erwartet wurden, erwartet werden... Bleib still, das gehört sich nicht, das soll anders, pass dich an. Ladylike Nein. Manchmal denke ich es sind die Wurzeln. Dann sehe ich eine Julia Tsvetkova und #заюлю , den osteuropäischen Queerfeminismus, die @lgbtnetru Community und die Solidarität mit den Schwestern Chatschaturjan @freekhachaturyansisters #сестрыхачатурян , aber auch die Neue Rechte in West-Europa mit ihren „traditionellen Werten“, Menschen wie Franziska Schreiber und die von Storch und denke, das ist keine Frage des Ortes, der Kultur oder der Generation. Es ist eine Frage von Macht, Respekt, Zugang und Wissen und Freiheit ist immer relativ. #geschlechter #freiheiten #spieldeslebens #fraumitbart #illusionen #mannmitschminke #dekonstruktion #identität #geschlechtisteinkonstrukt #machdichfrei #ichbinich #wayneinteressierts #genderisasocialconstruct #genderfluidity #performativity #doinggender #iamwhoisayiam #freeyourmind #areyoumad #sorrynotsorryatall #гендер #иллюзияжизни #свободабытьсобой #яэтоя #свободадействий #какаяразница #лгбтроссия #лгбтжизнь https://www.instagram.com/p/CDG2FLuHSJW/?igshid=iwlcivfxg7bx

————————————Разная Любовь Different kinds of love I feel a flutter in my heart when I see a bumblebee flying around, buzzing and just being itself. I feel a knot in my stomach when one of my soulmates talks about her childhood. I feel a shiver down my spine when I close my eyes and listen to the birds chirping and talking to each other, reminding me of the millions of worlds on this planet. I feel a punch in my gut when I should be happy and thankful, but instead I am tired and worn-out. I feel a pinch on my skin when I can’t control my dermatillomania and a gnawing in my mind every time I have to leave the house during summer with exposed arms. But I feel hopeful and less lonely and weird when someone i love is by my side and we laugh. And I always feel a deep calmness and simultaneous extasy when I’m surrounded by nature and there’s rustling of the wind in the trees and the grass. I am enough, I am alive and I am here. #differentlove #naturesbeautiful #insectlover #wildflowerseason #friendshiplove #cptsdawareness #dermatillomania #surviving #bpdawareness #adhdlife #mentalhealthskills #takeawalk #takeaswim #mindfulmoments #picturesandpoems #writingpoetry #expressingfeelings #spazierengehen #seelenfreunde #achtsamkeitimalltag #skillstraining #naturfotos #insektenfotografie https://www.instagram.com/p/CC1IcLNH0hV/?igshid=1wn7sw5kxxwew

Смородина Smorodina See-through current flowing, seeking, raging rodina means home Heimat Where one is born where one feels whole There is a hollow, a leak a currant fragile and faint with visible veins and pained. Painful inverted looks My own gaze burning through my skin Narrow insides bursting outside shattered fractured mind breaking cracking self searing tearing soul dissolving in itself #currants #johannisbeeren #смородина #identity #selfawarenessjourney #bpdrecovery #cptsd #adhdbrain #depressionart #mentalhealth #dissociation #dissolving #thoughtsinwords #streamofconsciousness #structured #dadaism #associations #russianwords #plantphotography #closeupphotography #poetrywriting #achtsam #schreiben #struktur #beerenliebe #pflanzenfotografie #nahaufnahme https://www.instagram.com/p/CCqwYb-nDtN/?igshid=1pa5j8dk47uso

Wild

Freiwild nenn ich es, wenn ich die Menschen beäuge, die mich geil machen. Sie bieten sich mir an, ich sehe sie überall. 

Es ist das Mädchen, das mir den frischgepressten Saft reicht, der Typ der in der S-Bahn sitzt, die Frau, die ihren Hund ausführt, der Skater, der die Straße runterbrettert.                          Alle haben es auf mich abgesehen.

Ich sehe ihre Blicke und stelle mir vor, wie sie wohl aussehen, wenn sie kommen. Haben sie die Augen offen oder geschlossen, verzerren sich ihre Gesichter, bleiben sie still, seufzen sie, oder schreien sogar?

Diese Gedanken lassen mich nicht los, ich fühle mich schmutzig, wie ein unkontrollierbares Tier, dass nur den Instinkten folgt. Dann rettet mich meine Passivität und mein Selbsthass vor promisken Gebärden und sie verziehen sich ins Hinterstübchen zu den Gewaltfantasien und Vergangenheitstraumata.

Nachts, während ich schlafe, da kehren sie wieder und überraschen mich in Träumen von lüsternen Professoren und feuchten Kassiererinnen.

Trotz allem bin ich allein und vor allem habe ich Angst.                                    Vor Allem.  Vor mir, vor den Menschen und vor der Zukunft. 

Das Herz in meinem Körper schlägt schneller, sobald ich an Krieg denke, wenn die vielen Toten durch meinen Geist schwimmen, schnürt sich mir die Kehle zu und ich fühle mich wertlos und undankbar und falsch.

Und ich möchte schreien und sprayen, demonstrieren, Steine werfen und mich vor Panzer legen. Aber meine Passivität rettet mich und ich schimmle einen weiteren Abend vor mich hin, trinke meinen Wein und schaue Dokumentationen. 

Aktiv bin ich nur im Kopf. Und das auch immer weniger, seit ich festgestellt habe, dass dumm sein glücklich macht und ich deshalb alles versuche um meine Gehirnzellen abzutöten.              

Mord des Glückes wegen.                                                                                                       Und Sex der Nähe wegen. 

Ich ertrage keine Menschen, sie sind zu flach, zu anstrengend, zu erregend, zu dumm oder so viel besser als ich. Nur wenn sich fremde Körperteile in mir befinden, verstehe ich, warum das Menschentier sich nicht schon längst selbst ausgerottet hat.

as the ripples on the water form perfect little circles around the overly cute, wiggling behind of the duck, who tries to dive for something edible, i can't help but wonder: is my body going to crash, because of all the cosmic force pouring into me and the almost spiritual beauty touching every fibre of my being, or am i just going to take another deep, freezing breath of the forest-scented air and leave for the train.

Hellrot. Wenn ich hier sitze und mit meinem hübschen Köpfchen immer wieder gegen die Wand schlage, dann ergibt das irgendwann einen wunderschönen, hellroten Fleck. Das könnte man dann als Kunst verkaufen, einfach einen antiken Rahmen kaufen und drumherum aufhängen, dazu ein kleines Schild: Roxana, 2012, “Verzweiflung”, in Blut, Preis auf Anfrage. Dann wäre ich endlich zu etwas zu gebrauchen.

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice. `Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar. This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.' `What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. `Explain yourself!' `I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, `because I'm not myself, you see.' `I don't see,' said the Caterpillar. `I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very politely, `for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.' `It isn't,' said the Caterpillar. `Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice, `but when you have to turn into a chrysalis - you will some day, you know - and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?'. `Not a bit,' said the Caterpillar. `Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,' said Alice, `all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME.' `You!' said the Caterpillar contemptuously. `WHO ARE YOU?'

caterpillar

Do you know that feeling, when you're desperately trying to figure out your life? When you look at yourself and you have no idea who exactly you're looking at?

 I feel like there's no way to tell who you are. Who can even pretend, they know who they are… I mean you can list your personal qualities, your occupation, your interests. But that doesn't mean anything, does it? What is the essence of a person? What does make you you? Your memories? The way you act in certain situations?

 What does it say about me as a person, if it's two o'clock in the afternoon on a monday and  I'm lying in my bed thinking about anything and everything at the same time, but actually doing nothing at all? Does it mean I'm lazy or self-involved or just not capable of doing stuff I'm supposed to do? And who even decides what we are supposed to do? We are capable of deciding ourselves, right? But then why are we so angry at ourselves, when we just do the thing we want to do in a certain moment and not do the thing we should do, just not to seem lazy, self-involved, irresponsible or undecisive?

 I am sinking and grasping for air, for something to hold on to. I'm sucked in so deep in this self-inflicted depression of mine, that I can't see anything else at all. Every moment of every second of my life, I feel incapable of doing anything at all. I feel trapped and overwhelmed and wrong and stupid and unhappy with myself and everyone around me. I feel like I'm 14 and in my bedroom in my parents house. The only, but very important difference is, that I'm not 14. I'm fucking 23. I'm supposed to know what to do with my life. I'm supposed to work hard for my goals.

But what happens if you don't have goals? If you can't think of anything, anything at all. That's when you start to really lose it. Because that's what we're supposed to have. There's just no point in life, when you don't have goals. You drift around in a cloud of nothing – spheres of unimportant but fun distractions. You distract yourself from the one thing you should be figuring out – your future.

We proud ourselves to be living in the moment, in the present. We think that’s the explanation for our inability to fit in. It makes us special – creatures of freedom, art and love. The truth is, we are alone. Because in a world where the present doesn’t exist, and the only ones believing the illusion of its concept are lost children, nobody can survive that way. When everyone around you is building a career, looking for new job opportunities and studying abroad, there’s just no way for you to be like „ I don’t care, I live in the moment“. We’re not that emancipated, we should stop kidding ourselves.

So what’s left? The single, soul-crushing realisation that we are alone. Or are we? What if everyone really is that way, but some of us just force ourselves to do the important future shit? Who is right? The ones who voluntarily get swallowed by the machinery of the western civilization, the idea of career – this preposterous thought, that you are not worth anything if you’re not moving towards a better job, a higher position, more money – or the ones who want to escape, but never can and never will, because we're all social people who have been living in this world our whole life and we don’t know any better, than to feel ashamed and hate ourselves for not being able to work that much or have these goals or the energy you have to have to be successfull? Maybe the question shouldn’t be „Who is right?“, perhaps it should be „Who is happier?“, because that’s the really important thing: happiness.

So, who’s happier – the workaholic or the alcoholic? In the end we’re all addicted to something. And in most books, addiction never equals happiness.

The thing is, we are all loosers. We loose, that’s what be do. We loose friends, jobs, money, family members and partners. We loose energy, enthusiasm, our love for things that used to be really important to us, like painting, or playing the drums, or racket-ball. Ultimately we loose ourselves. This concept we never even succeeded in grasping.