We experienced (and are continuing to experience) a traumatic event this week, something I wish with all my heart did not happen, something that none of us could predict.
You never think it’s going to happen to you. That bad things happen to other people, that you are immune from the horrors of the world and then when something heartbreaking strikes you, it’s completely overwhelming. You feel as though you have been knocked off your feet, that the world has suddenly become this cruel, unforgiving and unfair place. That all the things you tell yourself to comfort yourself do not seep into your bones like they used to, that you are immune to the good things.
I know I feel numb. And completely in denial, hoping tomorrow I’ll wake up and it would have been just a horrible complicated dream. Those few people I told, I asked them to act as if nothing had changed. I wanted as much normality as possible but even that couldn’t shoot down the reality that our lives have changed.
Continue reading “Hope”
We all want to be a better person. Unless you think you are the *best* person and if so, you probably need to work on your humility.
I often find myself wishing I was better but better at what, I don’t know. Sometimes I get frustrated that even when I’m trying my absolute best, I’m not improving and nothing is changing, whether it’s with work, friendships, family relationships or things I do day to day. I have an image in my head as to what I want and immediately lament that I’m too dumb/stupid/lazy/incompetent to do it. And then I wind up with low confidence which feeds the circle of “I want to be better” and we start all over again.
Continue reading “5 Ways to kind of be a Better Person”
When I told my American History Professor that I wanted to write my Michaelmas term paper on Buddy Holly, he looked at me funny. Not in a “who is that” kind of way but more in a “sounds pretty specific but ok” way. I wrote my paper on race relations and Buddy Holly’s music – spoiler alert: not a whole lot to write about there – but it was a paper I wrote more for myself than anyone else.
If you have read this blog long enough, you’ll know about my struggles with anxiety. In fact, I seem to be starting all my blog posts like that now. But this one is a little different.
When I was younger, Buddy Holly never meant more than a dorky kid with black rimmed glasses that tried his hand at rock and roll. I didn’t know any of his songs or his impact or his untimely death. I didn’t know he inspired Elvis or The Beatles or Bruce Springsteen or that he broke the foundations to what is now rock and roll. He just wasn’t someone I was bothered about.
Continue reading “Buddy Holly”