#oh my god i just realized how similar in style this is to another poet exurb1a

[kiisuuumii]

@kiisuuumii (my heart is a house, and i'm trying to give you a tour)

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Confessions of a Coffee-Eater | 01

Genre: Smut, College/University AU

Pairing: Student!/Poet!Namjoon xStudent!/Poet!

Warnings: Public male masturbation, sub!Namjoon, allusion to smoking and poverty, swearing/cussing

Summary: It is in hard times beautiful things can occur and the addiction of primal instincts be suppressed in their proximity. However, when two souls from different social worlds meet in a poetry class, any former urges gain a new direction.

Some of which are sensual in emotion.

And may not be reciprocated.

Masterlist

Next part

Not everything starts off smoothly, time occupying more of the mind than the designated task or destination. Students tend to deal with this occurrence more often than it would like to be admitted, especially on the first day of the new academic year when everyone has the silent resolution to begin with a clean slate. Withal, there remain some who, nevertheless, manage to sneak into the classroom as the introductions have almost come to an end and thus go from being an absent first to a present last. 

Hence is why regardless of the few remaining students introducing themselves all eyes in the vast yet bare space shift to the tall man entering the room in a wake of smoke and cologne. It is not unlikely to think they are as intimidated by the painted canvas on well-defined arms as the girl sitting right next to them after furiously wishing to be left alone, the desire denied as it is the sole empty chair left.

Whatever you do, don’t make eye contact.

Nevertheless, the thought does not mean a glance at the artwork covering alluring honey-toned skin cannot be stolen. And the gained treasure is the sight of an intricate tribal design flowing over from bright turquoise into sleek black on the left arm and a Victorian clockwork overlapping with a nautical map and a compass, the former element stopping at the wrist after peeking out underneath a feather. That is all that can be picked up on from the side.

But almond eyes immediately sneakily take revenge by also looking at a source of interest for it is the natural thing for an individual to estimate the nearest person when being in an alien environment without a point of support consisting of friends. Unfortunately, each of them from private personal circles has chosen a different direction within the study, none of them daring to take on or simply interested in poetry. 

‘And who might you be?’ The round of rapid-fire introductions ends at the newcomer, who flinches as if waking up from a dream with the heavily blushing cheeks of a crumpled composure.

Which are mirrored in the flustered expression of an embarrassed heart futilely trying to cover up the chest area more by means of pulling up the slightly see-through white loose top thinly striped with lines of black. Regardless of the attempt, the pastel pink push-up bra decorated with a beautiful flower pattern in onyx remains visible very much so from above and a tad less from the front. Thus, when realizing the uselessness of the endeavour, the worry of coming across as an indecent person increases as now not only the professor is taken into account but the still nameless newcomer as well.

‘Oh, ehm, I’m- I’m Namjoon, an exchange student from Dongguk University.’ Eyebrows rise at the baritone voice trying to speak in a composed manner, miraculously managing to do so to a fair degree though fiddling fingers give away the surprise of suddenly being called to attention. Oddly, a thought pops up which almost encourages hands into action to calm tanned nervous ones but just in time can they be lowered into the lap while watching the speaker politely. ‘As for poetry, I believe it’s an expression of a person’s mind. However, this also means they are puzzles to be solved because a thought is chaotic and can have a double meaning.’

‘Very well. It’s funny you should mention poems being like puzzles. My son is currently in high school, also studying poetry and he and I had a conversation about it recently. He could not for the life of him figure out what any poem meant and was astounded I do this for a living. But, as any fifteen-years-old with a literature professor for a father, he wants to become a game designer.’ Chuckling arises in the classroom at the enthusiastically told analogy and all tenseness disappears thanks to the dry humour of the resident Manchester man. At the same time, eyes which swiftly avoided each other find one another again only to repeat the rapid break of contact, those of the too-exposed girl wavering instantly after strangely wanting to make sure Namjoon is more at ease like the others. Why the deep-voiced man looks back with the intention - if there is any intention at all - to lock gazes instead of, fortunately, accidentally letting focus wander lower to bared skin, shall remain a mystery.

For blushing cheeks to never unravel.

Get yourself together, Y/N. I don’t know him and he’s clearly more interested in my chest than myself. Although... just now he looked at me. And he’s kinda adorable. And handsome. No, no, no! Jesus, what am I thinking?

Professor Brown happily continues, pacing the room. ‘But if we think about encoding and poetry, they are similar on the grounds they are both, indeed, essentially the same in the manner they are carefully composed in order to work.’ Steps halt in the middle of the space, academic sight switching from one face to the next as hands fold behind the back clad in a neat black jacket. ‘There is something I would like to ask you. Does any of you write poetry?’

The majority of the students' palms rise in response, including one of which the arm is decorated as if by a traveller of old and one which finds purpose after being mentally prevented from ridiculously serving as a means of soothing. This risen pair does not go unnoticed by the minds which control them, the air in the narrow space between bodies filled with silent curiosity pertaining to the written work. The possible style, the possible words, the possible message.

The possibility to hear it being spoken.

The possibility to connect.

But neither says anything, focusing intently on the empty pages of the notebooks lying on the elongated table and clumsily fiddling with pens between fingers. Notwithstanding, every move is carefully composed to not make a wrong impression, both parties trying to prove a point which is supposed to be interpreted without any double meanings. Certainly so when rejoining each other’s company at the end of a swift ten-minute-break to allow room for breathing something else other than poetry in four hours dedicated to it.

Nevertheless, it cannot be helped but let shoulders relax when smelling nicotine mixed with sharp cologne and sensing two intricate paintings in contrasting styles settle on the empty chair again. It can even be admitted the presence is liked, certainly when from peripheral vision perceived americano irises follow the movements of the pen noting down a random lyrical thought.

And thighs have to clench together in slight awkwardness when unconsciously sensing them looking away swiftly after likely having been distracted anew by the revelation of the shirt that does not want to stay in place. However, the emotion changes when remarking upon an almost anticipating shiver disturbing the fairly intimidating man’s aura as knees accidentally touch.

Panic.

But something undefinable and incomprehensible forms its undertone.

‘I’m sorry.’ Clenching the jaw, the contact is immediately made undone by crossing legs and focusing on the penning down each poem, any poem that comes to mind. 

But nothing appears at hearing the shy stumbling over words, picturing all too well how Namjoon’s face is adorably flushed with timidity. ‘Ah, i- it’s- doesn’t matter.’

Which only worsens the uncomfortableness of a consciousness slowly turning corrupted as the long hours of the seminar pass, wondering what lies at the heart of the cause to behave so jittery and rush out of the door to smoke. Wondering is the wrong choice of words for it are more sensual ungrounded fantasies which rise one by one while listening to the flustered ocean deep voice answering a question here and there.

Fancying how it would sound when being completely controlled by the girl keeping up an innocent façade.

Me.

God-fucking-dammit, focus on class and not your own perverted imaginations. You’re here to learn, not to lose control like this.

This warning spins around a chaotic mind at least every quarter of an hour, swirling among the perversion and bringing common sense back for perhaps a good ten minutes before either Namjoon’s voice is heard or a glance is thrown in the man’s direction. Then the whole circus starts anew without hope of redemption.

Henceforth, it comes as a relief when the class is over at last and everyone packs their things to rush to the nearest bus station to make it home.

The first to disappear are arms made of ink and smoke.

Restraint is one of humankind’s most difficult issues to face on a daily basis, seeking refuge in what brings tranquility to a tempted consciousness. Withal, the nicotine purchased with the little money put aside from working the night shift at a nearby gas station did not help erase the vivid memory of pastel pink embroidered by lace as black as night. If anything, it was all in vain as the confrontation with it happened as soon as walking back into the room to which all of us are confined for four hours once a week.

Igniting a type of hunger which has not been felt towards any other girl in Korea, too busy working the same job as now to help make ends meet and send the little brother with big aspirations to high school because the sibling deserves a proper educational basis as well. Hence is why there was no room for letting attention stray towards anything but the means necessary to help pay for the rent.

  Three people could barely manage to bring it up each month. But out here on foreign soil and alone, being kicked out of the rented place nearby the university is not so much a surprise. Fortunately, the boss does not come in until seven in the morning which allows for two hours of sleep before packing up the makeshift bed consisting of a jacket for a mattress and rucksack for a pillow. It is difficult, but hardship is inevitable for those who are seen as pariahs, the people who do not fit the norm in one way or another.

Yet, strangely, Y/N - the name glanced from the improvised name tags the professor asked to be made to make it easier for everyone - was not as tense as the rest of the students. In fact, intrigued is perhaps the best description to give the overall attitude of the girl caught occasionally glancing sideways.

I did fuck up great time, though. Why did I stare at her boobs?

The painful twitch below that had to be awkwardly shielded against all the eyes of the room, certainly the pair of newly met ones on the adjacent chair for they are the cause, makes the memory of flesh resurface as a rapid turn is made towards the abandoned unisex restroom. Swiftly, the lock to the tiny space is turned.

Alone.

God, I really blew my chances with her. I should apologize.

The phantom of touching knees makes lashes flutter shut and teeth bite down on the bottom lip as a hand brushes over tight grey denim.

Obsidian with a pearl undertone.

A cute black bow from which a small diamond dangles between breasts.

‘She’s so pretty.’ A squeeze sends the mind reeling further away from sanity, recalling the warm scent reminiscent of the autumn which hangs in the air. Wild berries, dark plum and bergamot.

Her.

‘I could be so good to you. For you.’ Tanned fingers barely possessing a sliver of logic undo the zipper concealing heated hurt, firmly enveloping the source for distraction when slipping past the rim of plain grey boxers. To suppress any sound, their counterparts fold over the mouth on the brink of falling into whimpering submission, trembling like during the seminar in the sudden craving to be touched.

By Y/N.

If only I’d push my thigh a bit more to the side, she’d have caught on. What am I thinking? You’d never do that.

After all, what does have a poor man from Ilsan to offer to a foreign woman who is better off without an outcast glued to her? Moreover, there are financial priorities that have to be taken care of and it is highly improbable there is a willingness to help a wretched soul out of the gutter with money.

She does not know me. 

I do not know her.

We are strangers.

But lovers in this fantasized instance, having pretty small hands replace clumsy desperate ones as ears naturally attune to the echo of what little has been heard from a charming voice. Howbeit, it is speaking in a sweetened tone furiously wished to ever be heard truly in private. ‘Namjoonie, why didn’t you tell me you were so needy?’

‘I- I didn’t want t- to- we’ve just met and- and- fuck~’ The curse comes out on a breathless whimper as the chin is flicked up to gain access to the neck, glossy lips kissing the warm skin at random as the thumb circles the heavily leaking part of corrupted fancy.

‘If I’d known you’d be submissive like this, I’d done this to you sooner. You wanted to grab my hand earlier, didn’t you? Place it in your lap to rut against during the rest of the seminar?’ A cheeky grin chisels itself onto the coy mistress’s delighted expression at the unashamed nodding confirming the intention dismissed in the last second after the second smoking break. ‘Make sure I know what I do to you? Who would have thought that such a big buff tattooed boy,’ a whine falls into an appreciative growl when the stimulating palm tightens its hold significantly, the reaction eliciting a chastising click of the tongue, ‘would be such a mess. So cute, all submissive.’

‘O- only for you.’ Hips snap in time with the movements below, aching for release from the building tightening in the lower stomach. Breath comes at a greater difficulty as speech becomes harder to manage as well, feeling too heated to think properly and dwindling further and further into the urge to please the one who ignites a sense of safety. ‘Wan- Wanna be goo- ngh, ah, ehm, b- be good for you.’

‘As you should be as my baby boy.’ Y/N stands on the tippy toes of obsidian and alabaster Puma sneakers, arms suggestively snaking around the back of the neck and nails digging wonderfully into skin when whispering. ‘If you actually do grab my hand next time in class to rut against, I’ll jerk you off under the table but make you cry in overstimulation for being impatient. Am I understood?’

‘Y- Yes, M- Miss.’

‘That’s what I like to hear.’

‘C- Can I- Need to- shit!’ All attention of action shifts wholly to the most sensitive part, erasing every last sliver of sense while barely refraining from coming undone without permission. ‘Plea- Please, ah, ah, Miss, m- may I!’

However, the request remains unfinished as the stimulation becomes too much to handle and the world is sucked away into pleasant nothingness, taking fantasy along and leaving a poor man from Ilsan alone in perverted satisfied warmth.

Together in an imaginary self-made world. 

Alone in a bathroom in reality.

Stained in more ways than with solely thick ivory. 

Yet having to say sorry.

[tonguetiedmag]

Author Interview: Ming Liu

“That night, I’ll find myself wondering if you saw me as the woman you used to like a lot, or the woman you couldn’t love enough.” Ming D. Liu, The Letters You Left Behind

Benjamin: Personally, what does your book Letters You Left Behind mean to you? What meaning do you hope your readers will achieve from it, if any?

Liu: “The Letters You Left Behind is a very personal collection for me. It was two years in the making – both experiencing it and writing it – and it goes through the ups and down of falling for the first time in what I believed was ‘love’ at that time, not having those feelings reciprocated, yet, what comes out at the end of that heartbreak is greater than I’d ever imagine. In releasing it, I hope my readers would realize they weren’t alone in their emotions, both the good and the bad. I want to them to know that we are more similar than different.”

Benjamin: I know that each one of your pieces in Letters You Left Behind means something different especially to you, but if you could choose, which one felt the most personal and why?

Liu: “Definitely #141! It’s a long piece, but my favorite line is ‘That night, I’ll find myself wondering if you saw me as the woman you used to like a lot, or the woman you couldn’t love enough.’ That line truly grasps the entire collection in one sentence, and what I had gone through. It was always how this person told me they liked me a lot, but not enough.”

B: Also, what kept you going through your journey? From the start of your book through all the writer’s block (which you may or may not have had, God knows I’ve had my fair share) the revisions, having other people read it and criticize your work? I know that can be difficult for anyone, but what kept you going for you to end here with a phenomenally written and published book?

L: “First things first, thank you so much for saying that! It truly means a lot. My best friends have always been super supportive when it came to my writing. They always told me to publish something, even if it was self-publishing. When I started posting my work on Tumblr, I met many amazing readers and now friends, who inspired me and pushed me to do more. They would message me and suggest I write a book, they would say such wonderful things and truly gave me hope that I could one day write a collection. And so I did! As for the editing process. It’s tiring. I repeatedly edited each and every page for three months straight and by the end of it, I had them almost memorized. Even then, there are still grammatical mistakes I wish I could change!”

B: What did it feel like to finally complete Letters You Left Behind and how does that feeling compare to when you look back at when you began writing it?

L: “When the first copy of the book arrived in my house, I was flying. I’ve always been hard on myself, but at that moment I was so proud that I had put it all together. To be honest, I never planned to write the book. I just continued to write and then it hit me – this IS the book.”

B: What was your first experience in writing like? Do you remember the first piece you wrote and could you share a bit with us now?

L: “First piece ever, in my entire life?! Maybe in elementary school so I sure don’t have that saved haha.”

B: What can we look forward from you in the future? Do you have any other ideas in the works currently that you can share?

L: “I AM WORKING ON SO MANY PROJECTS RIGHT NOW!!! I am so excited to share them soon! I just created an Instagram just for my writing. It will be a little different than my Tumblr. I am working on a new collection as well! AND finally, I am working on a project called Letters From New York City. I will be launching at the end of this year, so stay tuned!”

B: What area of writing do you want to take on next if there is any? Do you find this area challenging for you and if so why?

L: “I think I want to focus on writing about topics that make me uncomfortable such as death, sex, family, politics, etc. I don’t want to play it safe anymore and it’s always good to leave your comfort zone to try other things. It’s challenging for the reason that those aren’t always easy topics to voice about. That comes with more criticism – not for your writing, but your opinion, but we shall see.”

B: What book have you connected with deeply?

L: “Oh man, this question is tough to answer. There are so many! It has to be one of the follow: The Lover’s Dictionary (David Levithan), Milk & Honey (Rupi Kaur), or Me Before You (Jojo Moyes). I may be leaving some out too.”

B: Who is an author that you love dearly and look up to as an idol? Why?

L: “Suzanne Collins. Not only did her books become successful, her writing style is simple and clear cut. No pretense, no ridiculous vocabulary words, just words that everyone understands.”

B: What piece of literature is your guilty pleasure?

L: “I have this thing for reading Thought Catalog articles.”

B: How do you think writing has change in the past sixty years if any? Do you think this change is good or bad? Why? What do you think will happen to the written word in the next twenty years?

L: “The idea of ‘good writing’ has changed over the years, especially when it comes to poetry. The poetry we read in school had many rules and limits, but now creative writing allows you to write with your own style and voice. It allows you to be yourself without having to fake it, because the worse thing an artist can do is pretend to be the art their heart cannot make; In the next few decades I hope that people are more accepting of other people’s personalized styles and in the topics they choose to write about.”

B: Okay, so I know writing can’t be your only hobby, so what else do you spend your time doing?

L: “I enjoy reading, painting, and photography! I also enjoy dancing with my friends until the night ends. I’m always up for an adventure in scenic places so, does exploring count as a hobby? Haha”

B: Have to ask, when is your birthday?!

L: “July 3rd!”

B: What college did you graduate from? What were your best memories? What did you major in and what do you plan to do with it?

L: “I graduated from Brooklyn College. The best memories were probably having classes with my best friend and spending our five-hour breaks hanging out in Target and doing nothing haha. I majored in English and currently work in book publishing, which was what I wanted to do.”

B: Could you tell us about your family and friends? Siblings? Enemies?

L: “Can’t say I have any enemies, but I’m a lot closer with my friends than my siblings, but my younger brother is my best friend and my #1 man, always!”

B: Have you found love in this crazy mixed up world and if you have, how do you balance that with everything that’s going on around you?

L: “I have found love in this crazy world. It hasn’t been a problem trying to balance a relationship with everything else (knock on wood). For the first time, it seems like everything is falling into place.”

B: What are some things that people don’t know about you? What do you think people’s thoughts are when they first meet you?

L: “People probably don’t know that I used to be a tomboy when I was younger because I am so not athletic now. My best friends always told me they thought I was annoying at first because I was obnoxiously happy all the time haha.”

B: Hardships, what difficult things have you been through that you feel changed you in a way that was irreparable? How have you come out on the other side?

L: “My relationship with my family hasn’t always been great, but, it’s brought me to be the woman I am today and I am stronger due to those events.”

B: Have you ever been stereotyped or prejudged and could you tell us about an instance that it’s happened to you?

L: “New York City is very diverse, but even then people throw negative comments. Maybe I will write about them in a book one day!”

B: Brag about yourself a little. What are some of your best qualities/traits? (Boost your own ego a bit!)

L: “Hahaha that’s always been weird for me, but I will say this – I am usually a very optimistic person and have a knack for talking to strangers and just about anyone. Oh, and I have good skin… Does that count?!”

B: America is pretty chaotic, what do you think makes us that way and what changes do you think would make us a better place?

L: “We need to accept each other more.”

B: If we were here a year from now celebrating what a great year it’s been for you, what have you achieved?

L: “I would hope that my new project has taken off and I am writing more. And also traveling – I’ve been to quite a few places this year and am very stoked about that.”

B: So, Ming, what’s your story? If somebody was writing a book about you, what would fill the pages? What would you want the ending to withhold? What meaning/lesson would you want your reader to grasp from your story?

L: “I’m not sure if I know my story yet, I’m still writing it, but I guess we can start with love. Love is what makes all of us, it’s what we need, and what makes us better.”

B: What advice do you have for those budding authors and poets out there?

L: “KEEP WRITING! I still consider myself a budding writer. All you need to do is keep going and not give up. It’s tough, very tough when you compare yourself to people out there but the world always needs more art!”

B: Could you end this interview off with a quote/poem that you hold dearly to your heart either from yourself or another person? What does it mean to you?

L: “My best friend said to me last year, ‘I have faith you’ll treat yourself right someday.’ We have to be patient and kind with ourselves as we are with others.”

Find Ming D. Liu online: 

http://mingdliu.com/

https://www.instagram.com/ming.d.liu/

https://www.facebook.com/mingdliu

http://www.lulu.com/shop/ming-d-liu/the-letters-you-left-behind/paperback/product-22168175.html

Interview by: Toni Benjamin

[timestamp-renegade-universe-blog]

Follow Through

Or, “If I had the money, I would put it where my mouth is.”

In my last post, I described the difficult set of circumstances that led me to the necessary time-out on Timestamp for a few weeks, as well as my difficult decision to throw in the towel and search for a stable income in tandem with my art efforts. In a nutshell, there is a lot of stress in this household between unstable finances, unsorted mental illness, unfounded child custody cases, and all the other normal stuff that 20-somethings deal with these days. And, as usual, I have done a poor job finding the time for self-care in order to handle it. That’s why I’ve vowed to make it a bigger priority to write on a daily basis, largely using my Timestamp blog to keep myself accountable, though I will not realistically be able to create a full post every single day. For me this will be an exercise in acknowledging and discussing mental health issues that I have previously avoided for fear of social stigma. For you, this may just be the inner dialogue of a traumatized introvert, but I hope that it would one day find community. While I am nervous to work through these issues in a public forum on my business page, I also have to stand by the fact that I am Timestamp, and my mentality/ mental health is a huge part of what and how I create.  

So here’s my start.

Took time to reduce my anxiety before getting out of bed? Check. Been in contact with my therapist this morning? Check. Working on processing my situation through writing? The time has come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two posts ago I was talking a big game about the methods that I use to reduce some of my anxiety and increase mindfulness when I’m continually working from home like an isolated loser for 14 hour days. Although I have a lot more to deal with than anxiety, I’ve recently found out, these have been instrumental tools in keeping my head on straight when there’s no one around to lean on.

As much as I love my alone time and find energy in working in my own environment without interruption, I also have to say that it can be really demoralizing and lonely to be manically working at home all day every day. With all of my best friends and family still residing in Illinois, the only human I have around here is my significant other, who has a very demanding schedule outside of the house (thank god, because having another party in my space 24/7 is also not the solution for me).

Without social support when I’m starting to feel the tickles of anxiety growing, I realized early on in my small business adventure that I needed to find other instruments to lean on when I’m losing my grip. These are the ways I’ve reliably used to contend with my loneliness and generalized anxiety:

Podcasts  - You know how when you haven’t seen or spoken to another human being in about two days, and you start to talk to yourself, your dog, and your guinea pig instead? Yeah, right, me either… but if I did, I would recommend that you switch to hearing other people talk on these podcasts.  I spend most of my days continually streaming podcasts in the background, whether I’m writing for my day job or hand painting a new piece of furniture. They are amazingly comforting, not only for reducing the uncomfortable silence in an empty house and stimulating your brain with subtle conversation, but also for addressing mental health and philosophical life issues if you tune into the right programs. Here are my favorites:

On Being – Good god, I wish I could have Krista Tippett in my life, calmly narrating my existence and bringing up the most thoughtful, perspective-changing questions known to man. This program is life-changing. My only regret is that it took me so long to find On Being, when I have been individually questioning the meaning of it all for 20 years at this point. Every episode is 53 minutes long edited, and about 120 minutes long unedited, if you want to hear both versions of the conversation like some people do… cough. The premise is simple, ex-journalist, theologian, and author Krista Tippett has long, organic conversations with the most interesting humans you never knew you needed to have in your life. The conversations tackle issues of mindfulness, psychology, individual spirituality, and philosophy, with a dabbling of current science for good measure. The interviewees come from hugely diverse backgrounds, some of which you might expect, including a prevalence of poets and social change leaders. However, you won’t get off that easy; often the guests are quite unexpected for a left-wing public radio show, and can be challenging to approach with an open mind such as the episodes with Glenn Beck or a panel of pro-life pastors. No matter the topic, every episode is thoroughly surprising and grounding. I gain such a sense of peace and perspective from the wisdom of these enormously influential people. I can’t say enough about the grace and depth of the conversations, or the appreciation I’ve developed for thoughtful pauses before profound answers. I want to be Krista Tippett when I grow up.

The Mindset Zone – This one is fairly self-explanatory, although the host’s voice is anything but. Ana Melikian, a Psychologist and business coach with the most unique “generally European” accent I’ve ever heard, leads these short episodes that tackle the issue of mental health in small business. Finding this podcast felt like a message from the heavens, and it came during a time when I was fully losing my battle with business anxiety earlier this year. Each episode tackles a specific issue or guest relating to the mental health management that must take place to open a new business. I’ll be honest when I say that the programs are a bit hit or miss for me. Occasionally they can be redundant or feel like advertisements for her business coaching techniques, but often they are full of the exact insight I need to hear. Is it normal to be completely overwhelmed and disgruntled about the vast number of hats you must wear in small business? Yes. Does everyone doubt what they’re doing and feel the drive to retreat to a safer option? Sure do. Is failure a necessary event to be accepted and learned from, rather than feared? Yep. The messages of the episodes are simple, eye opening, and unifying. As is always the case with mental health, just hearing that what I’ve been experiencing is normal was a huge relief; in fact, this podcast is what inspired me to begin writing more openly about the issue of mental health management in my own small business. It is a topical and useful journey, with plenty of unintended laughs at Ana’s pronunciations. Sorry Ana.

Sex and Other Human Activities – Oh man, do I love the Cave Comedy Radio/Last Podcast Network. These guys are meant to be my best friends and my best friends’ best friends; they just don’t know it yet. We’re mildly obsessed, and diligently plotting ways to prove our worth as the next generation of SOHA hosts, since these two have taken a break from the program to work on other projects. Anyways, this particular show features two of my favorite CCR/LPN hosts, Jackie Zebrowski and Marcus Parks, who openly and honestly discuss their battles with mental illness, as well as answering listener questions on the same topics. Both hosts are fantastically hilarious in my exact style of humor, and very transparent when it comes to the relationship, work, and general life difficulties that come hand in hand with attempting to better understand and control your own psychology. They are incredibly relational, and speak honestly about their successes as well as failures in sorting out depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorder, self-doubt, and anger. Though there are plenty of laughs, it’s also clear that Jackie and Marcus care a great deal about the topics, and there are many difficult episodes that took considerable courage to record. Again, there is enormous power in this program simply from hearing that you aren’t alone in your battles. Listening to the accounts from two people of similar age and mentality, working through their issues and preaching the importance of self-kindness and professional care feels like receiving guiding support from my best friends, on-demand.  I could talk endlessly about my love for all the CCR/LPN guys, but I’ll hold off for an inevitable road trip entry.

Walks – An oldie but a goodie, exercise is a crucial way to work through my emotions and ground myself when my stomach starts to tighten up in a knot. A huge part of mindfulness is observing the breath and bodily sensations, and for me the best free version of this is going on a brisk hike. There’s nothing like getting out into uninterrupted nature and connecting with my feet in order to let go of the rushing thoughts in my head. I gain so much peace from a long solo walk, where I can connect with my worries and allow myself the space to process them. This is a tool I’ve used for many years, though back in Illinois it was fulfilled through walking to and from work each day, long walks around campus on every break, and usually ending with a late evening walk either alone or with my sidekick Jacq. When my dog Jake came into my life, he became a huge motivator to keep up the practice even during dark times when I had trouble executing this style of self-care. Nowadays, the truly amazing part is our proximity to beautiful and dynamic hiking trails in Stone Mountain, which far outweigh the residential streets I used to stomp down in Urbana, Illinois when it comes to peace-bringing. The difficult part, however, is managing my anxiety long enough just to get to the park. Any deviation or distraction from my work each day carries an enormous stress load with it, so the act of going out and reducing my anxiety actually inspires a mountain of distress in the hours leading up to my departure. I do my best to remind myself that this is a critical tool for mindfulness and I need to address my issues rather than working as a means of distraction, but it’s always difficult to permit myself time for self-care. Acknowledging these difficulties in my personality, I’ve come up with three strategies to reduce the likelihood of ditching my park plans;

Arrange with a friend to chat during the walk. When there is a sense of duty, i.e. a promise I made to someone else, I have no problem following through with my plans. I’ve found it helpful, and socially positive, to talk on the phone with my friend during her lunch break as I get my exercise in. This gives me a set time to take a break from my work, prepare, and get to the park on time with a party holding me accountable. I can disappoint myself, but I can’t disappoint other people.

Leverage “shitty work days” to promote breaks at the park. There are days when I work exclusively on Timestamp projects, and I’m happy as a clam from sunup to sundown. Then there are days when I have to write and edit endless articles to pay the bills. These are the days that my brain struggles the most. Without working towards something I’m passionate about, my mind tends to get restless and wander. I have a hard time keeping my head in the game, and instead it can begin to slide into some hefty doom and gloom thinking. Sometimes, there are so many external thoughts flying around in there that I can’t concentrate on my arduous and boring task at hand any longer. I begin to lose my focus, become exhausted, and slip into a depressive state. That’s when it’s time to allow myself the luxury of a walk, in order to reset and reapproach the rest of the work day with newfound productivity.

Set a nighttime walk intention. I’ve found that there is far less anxiety and guilt associated with taking my walk at night, rather than in the middle of my day. This allows me to get all the work done that simply can’t wait before I attempt to pull myself away from the project. If, for whatever reason, I haven’t made as much progress as I wanted to by the time evening falls, I still have less guilt giving myself some space when it’s already 8pm. Of course, I’ve considered switching this to morning walks so I could calm down before my work day even started, but have yet to make this attempt, as I currently use my early mornings to get unwanted writing jobs out of the way.

Social support – We all know, your support network is the most important tool in living with mental illness. That being said, for someone with a tendency to avoid and isolate when they need help the most, it can be a huge challenge to even go and seek social support. As a verified introvert, masochist, and devotee to the idea that my existence is a burden to everyone I know, I generally do the wrong thing in these situations. In the past two or three months, I’ve made a big push to get over my fear of bothering people, and attempt to contact folks when I’m having a hard time. It can be my best friend, my therapist, or even my mother if I’m feeling desperate enough. 9 times out of 10, it results in an honest and caring conversation that helps me greatly in working through whatever problem is at hand, and I have a lasting boost of self-esteem from the interaction. Even if we can’t resolve the issue, just having the reassurance that my friends and family haven’t forgotten about me and still care about my well-being from hundreds of miles away relieves many of my greatest fears. As a bonafied one-man island in bad times, my saving graces for forcing social support on myself are:

My outgoing and extroverted boyfriend. Even though he may not always understand why I’m so crippled by imaginary worries, he’ll always listen to them. At times he can do the unthinkable and convince me to do better with his own social and optimistic nature. He always wants to spend time together and to get out of the house, and this social insistence can be a gift.

My best friends who have their own battles and insights on mental health. Not only do I have a best friend who works professionally as a clinical therapist, but most of the people I surround myself with have similar struggles. We understand one another and feel less judgement talking about the things we deal with, besides the fact that their own needs for support often keep me accountable for their sake, if not my own.

My group messages with friends back home. Reaching out and talking is hard when you feel like your life is empty and depressing. If there’s no news to share, it’s hard to call someone up just to chat. That’s why these stupid facebook messenger groups are such a helpful tool for feeling social without the pressure of actually being social. The continual chatter amongst friends helps me to feel connected to my old crew on a daily basis, even when I personally don’t feel like I have anything to talk about.

Creativity - Clearly, this one rings true for me. As I’ve stated earlier, I can work on my artistic projects from dawn til dusk without feeling an inkling of anxiety or mental duress. I realize that not everyone is as enthusiastic about making things as I am, but I believe there is some real power in accessing this part of the brain. Maybe doodling, instagramming, or zen coloring is more your style - there are plenty of options. Something about the process of thinking creatively seems to be incompatible with the pathways that cause my stress and anxiety, so one can’t happen in tandem with the other. This is great when I’m in a creative mindset and naturally fend off looming anxiety; conversely it’s very difficult when I’m in a negative mindset and battling to reach a place of creativity. Here are the ways I’ve found to get past the mental gymnastics, and get into the artistic zone:

Having some sort of a schedule. As I mentioned a bit earlier, I’ve realized that it makes sense for me to get my writing assignments completed in the morning. This allows me to set aside the stress of looming busy work, earn myself a sense of achievement, and open my mind to other tasks I want to complete. Now, I don’t rigidly schedule my writing work because just as there are times I feel creative and times I do not, there are also times I feel like writing and times I simply can’t. Maybe my head hurts too badly to look at the computer screen, or maybe I’m not feeling the creative juices flowing that particular time of that particular day. That’s when flexibility is important, so I can find fulfillment in accomplishing the tasks that best mesh with my mental state, and I can achieve the most productive day possible.  

Setting my intentions for the day one on the night before. Sometimes, it’s anxiety inducing just to wake up in the morning and look at my long list of business to-do’s. Should I be wrapping up this big desk, working on my newest set of prints, posting to Instagram, writing a blog, fixing my website bugs, posting new items to Etsy, checking on my sales around town, etc, etc, etc. It never ends. If I can just work through these options in the evening beforehand, coming up with a general list of priorities to focus on, I can hit the ground running the next day. Sounds simple, but usually it’s easier to finish up a long day of work and push the topic to the backburner for the rest of the night, than to begin planning the next busy day.

Writing. I huge problem I must overcome regularly is my brain’s penchant for repetitive thinking. If something is on my mind, I have a difficult time pushing it aside to focus on new tasks. My mind cycles through what’s bothering me again and again, bringing up the same physical reactions each time the sentiment goes passing through. This is why writing has so much power for me. Putting these concerns down on paper or keyboard is an excellent release from the merry-go-round of worry. It allows me to process exactly what I’m feeling about the issue, to solidify the issue as something that I am acknowledging, and to form a plan on how to deal with it. After that, I can move on from the problem with greater ease, and apply all that brain energy to another item.

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All I’m meaning to say here is, it can be difficult to allow yourself the “luxury” of caring for yourself and your mental health, especially when your focus is always on taking care of business. There’s nothing to stop you from putting your own physical and emotional needs aside when things are stressful, at the times when you need self-care the most. I’m no expert in the field of personal kindness, but I increasingly recognize that it’s important to improve these skills as necessary tools for a functional life. It’s certainly something that takes practice and a mindful outlook to make some of these changes reality, but the continued exercise only cements the positive effects further each time. I’ll be working on and expanding these practices for the rest of my life. I can only hope that my self-compassion continues to grow, and I can help another restless soul or two just by sharing how difficult it can feel to tackle these small measures, but how relieving it feels afterwards.

And remember, you’re alright kid, I don’t care what other people say.