About sharktoothsweater

When it comes about writing about myself I guess there follows a long silence. What should I write about me? For me it feels like there’s not so much to say actually because I’m kind of empty. And I do not know if I really know who I am. I suppose I could tell you my shoesize, the color of my hair or my eyes, about my height but none of those things really matter do they? Nor does my age, my sex, my nationality, the place where I live. At least, they do not matter in my world. I hope they don’t matter in yours either. Because all of this, what comes out here, is the real me I guess. If you have questions, or just something to say, you can reach me at sharktoothsweater at gmail dot com

Couch potato and Kung Fu.

So. It was like a year and a half ago when I started exercising. Together with a friend, I started with walks. Then we went to the gym a couple of times a week. Then we added Kung-Fu to our life.

That went like this: My friend discovered Kung Fu nearby. I always loved martial arts and practised Jiu Jitsu for a while. But when I got pretty depressed and I was running towards a burn out at work, I just stopped going. It felt like I didn’t belong there, there was not really a click with the others. Easy and enough reasons to drop out.

kf1

I wasn’t that convinced, but I knew it would be good and exercise is so important to stay healthy , also mentally, I figured I better try.

kf2

My friend went for a class and somehow I didn’t go that first time, but she convinced me in the end. I wasn’t feeling to sure about it, but why exactly I do not know. Maybe it’s because I always feel like I’m a bit of a failure and I’m ashamed of myself. Not sure.

kf3

On a friday evening I went. My friend, super-enthusiastic and moving with rocket-speed on the bike, me trying to keep up with this monsterous pace.

And so we ended up going twice a week to kung fu.

kf4

So that’s were we started to learn a lot of stuf. Like tornado-kicks.

kf5

Tornado-kicks are impressive-looking. The others moved and kicked so smoothly.

kf6

Of course we had to do this too. My friend tried some kicks and her leg really came above her head. But that’s not how it went for me:

kf7

I am way, way less flexible. I’m definitely not a talent. But hey, I tried to do my best.

kf8

And that’s what counts, right?

kf9

Even during warming up, I was always the one who could not keep up or do certain exercises. Even after months, it was still like this.

With kicks, with punches, with moves, it just took me a while and I always felt like I was way less good. But I knew it was good for me, so I kept going. Kept trying.

kflast

About having to call in sick…

<has been a long time since I was able to draw the cartoon version of my life; couch potato again…>

So, first things first: Ever since I got a big sickness/health issues (decade ago) I’m compared to what I was before, often sick. I’m probably above the average of being sick for ‘normal working people’ whatever that might be. Ever since that happened, I am less strong and healthy I guess. This brings often enormous feelings of guilt, because I used to be strong and healthy and never sick. I feel guilty every time I have to call in sick. I’m always fighting this battle between pushing myself and taking care of myself.

Usually I go back too early to work, or push it too far. Because I feel too guilty.

Cp1

5am. I wake up and feel competely wrecked and not well. Trying to get more sleep. I need maximum rest, since I have to work tomorrow!

2 hours later, but it feels like 10 seconds…

cp2

Getting up. The big doubt: I don’t feel good. But am I sick enough to call in sick? Maybe it gets better in a little bit….

cp3

Am I really sick enough? Maybe I have to force myself.

cp4

Aaarrrggghhh.

cp5

Starting to walk around like crazy. Tick tick tick time is flyyyyiiiinnnggg. Make up your miiiiiiind!

cp7

Though still getting slowly ready. But blah, these feelings of sickness. I have to push myselffff. Hold myself togetherrrr. Come on you wussy. So this continues for about 15 minutes:

At this point is where I need love. Here is where I ask love for help. I can’t make up my own mind with these things appearantly. Love usually says this to me:

 

And I usually listen to love (lately 🙂 ). But that’s not what solves my issues….

cp12

The Phonecall…………so, how am I going to explain . Is it bad enough? Is it a valid reason to call? Oh my oh my oh my. Shouldn’t I push myself more? tick tick tick, time is flying…

After a lot of swearing to myself in my head, I make the call (and no, this is not easy!)

Phonecall done…..but still not allright……because……

cp15

What if they dont accept it? What if they say I’m sick too often (yeah, that happened before….they sounded really angry at me and I felt so bad! Like if I’m doing this on purpose…)./ But the next 2 days are like this:

cp16

And then…

cp17

After a day or three (this time):

cp18

I finally manage to eat a bit and sit out of bed. Not feeling great, have to push myself to eat, but it’s a progress…

So I shower. And more pills. More vitamins. A bit of food. And so on.

cp20

And this is the point where I think of starting work again. I’m not sick to be in bed the whole day, just the half day. Feeling so guilty…if i’m able to be up for a bit or read a little bit, I also should be able to work, right? The reason behind it is this:

cp21

It comes partly from my own head. Partly of the system, that appearantly doesn’t allow you to be sick or be sick ‘too much’ – as if you choose that and have anything to say about it. But it is the reason why I always go back to work too early, when I’m not supergreat and healthy again. I usually check my mail before, which I know I should not do because……

cp22

it makes me feel SOOOOO much more GUILTY….

cp23

And then I see all the mails and all the work and it gives me soooooooo much more pressure and i feel sooo much more guilty that I didn’t work.

 

And this, this didn’t happen once. It doesn’t happen once. It happens every single time again, when I have to call in sick..

E V E R Y ………S I N G L E ……T I M E….

Absorbing and moving somewhere –

It’s a sunday afternoon. It’s supposed to be summer, but the weather changes a lot between really warm and fresh. And so it goes all the time. It’s really a big mystery how to dress properly for this, because it never really works out.

I notice how tired I am when I’m on my way walking the grocery store. The grocery store is not far; maybe a 5 minutes walk. I absorb my environment while walking there, trying to capture the energy, the way things are designed, maintained, used. Maybe that goes with my ‘profession’, I’m an urbanist, or however you should call the work I do. How public spaces are designed, used, treated, how people use it, how everything works, connects, behaves interests me stil, but lately I feel like ‘I’m losing the grip to the world of my ‘profession’. Not in the last place because I can’t seem to keep up with all the developments going on in the world. Things change so rapidly, almost always based on short term things. I remember when I was a little, that adults used to say the world is changing so fast and time was flying so fast. To me, back in the days as a kid, days could be endless and time would sometimes almost standing still.

Now, in my mid-thirties, I must admit that I finally understand what they ment. Does this mean I’m getting old? I don’t know, but all I know is that the world changes too fast for me, and the majority of developments aren’t something I feel comfortable with. I don’t think they are right, but who am I to say? I’m just one of the so many many many human beings with ideas on this planet.  And what is actually wrong or right? Perspectives changes everything.

That, makes things (over) complicated. It doesn’t matter how it its, there’s always another perspective. How can you ever decide or choose when there’s so much. In the usual world it’s simple, it’s mostly based on money, efficiency, stuff like that. But I, somehow, don’t work that way. It’s getting more blurry in my head. More doubts. More unanswered questions. And I’m getting tired of it. Tired of trying to adapt to be a part of this system, it really wears me out and I feel that in my body, for real. I’m tired in my head too, to be honest. I don’t know if I know how to be a good human being. There’s always someone with opinions, how you should do or what you do wrong.

All I want, is just to be. To be able to live in peace. Not with negative news, messages and agressive communication around me all the time. I stopped following the news years ago. You simply can’t trust what it says, and the main things are bad, negative, sad things. I don’t want to hear them anymore. I KNOW they exist, but if I hear them all the time it really does affect my mood.

Soon, I will leave this city, this house, this neighbourhood, and my profession. I leave a lot behind. That’s really okay; I had my time here, and it starts to cost me oxygen instead of giving it to me. I’m ready for something new. Though that’s a big thing too – have to learn another language, get settled again, find a job, et cetera. That’s still  okay. I know I can’t get what I dream of, because it’s too far away. No matter how I work or save, it’s out of reach for me on a short term.

I’m afraid. I’m scared. And lately I cry sometimes, because of that. I never cry.

Almost no one knows. But that’s okay. I’m someone anonymous just blurting out the chaos that’s in my head on the world wide web, never knowing if anyone reads it or who reads it. Maybe I write this into a big black hole – just like in space. Things dissapear in it, and no one knows where it goes.

Life is just……funny sometimes. No, I don’t understand anything of it. But you know, I try. Try to make something out of it.

 

 

The Radio Silence –

It has been, a long, long time. I can not really properly explain why I stopped writing. Why I stopped drawing. Why I stopped …. it just happened. Like life just happens.

Paths that are no roads. Directions without a way. A radio without a signal. Whatever it was, it was not there.

It has almost been two years – almost. Life has been going up and down like usual – I guess for some people it always goes like this. And yet so much changed, and at the same time nothing really changed. I’ve been floating in some kind of bubble. Work. Hanging in. Other work. I don’t really know.

Right now I’m at a point in life that I’m not really familiar with, and which I find difficult. Recently I stopped antidepressants – really, it was hell to stop. I didn’t expect it to be so bad –  a lot of nervous things, more nervous things and more NERVOUS things….movements, moods that flying everywhere and nowhere, but this nervousness inside of me, like some small things bouncing inside my body. Getting pissed off for no reason. Plus this thing that I really, really don’t like: C R Y I N G.

It’s not like crying crying. Most of the times it’s without any sound, just out of nowhere a stream of water running down the cheeks. Sometimes just like that, without any particular feelings. But sometimes with feelings, being sad for no reason, or being sad about life – I can’t help it, but life has so many things that hurt so bad that even if they don’t happen right now – they still hurt.

I don’t really know what to do with it. Often I hear people say that crying relieves. But how? I don’t feel any relievement – it seems pointless because of that. I’m in some kind of rollercoaster of being okay – being empty – or being sad and emotional and touched by so much things, touched that it can make me cry. I am not a crying person. So not. And yet I am.

The contradictory of everything all the time. I wish I would be able to handle that well, but I’m still searching for the manual that guides me through that. Got to figure my own puzzle out. Blah. Bleh. It is what it is, right?

Soon I am facing big changes again in my life. I know I need to change, because I can’t go on with life like I did and do now. And at the same time, I am very afraid. I go to another country, where I don’t speak the language too well, where I will have to find a job and such. Luckily, girlfriend is there with me. She’s from there, so she knows a bit how it works. But it’s still a bit scary though. Can I make it on my own? Can I make it to build something ip in a new country again? Am I able to fight the everlasting depressions and such? So much questions, so less answers.

Well, anyway, I’m feeling like I say a lot and saying nothing at the same time – for now I will just leave this as it is, and see if I can connect my radio cables again – for a long time the line was out, for now it’s plugged in a little, but for what comes, I honestly do not know –

 

About being a raindrop

IMG_1686.JPG

Sometimes all that is, is that you are just there. You just exist, like one raindrop in a rainshower. You can’t do otherwise but to keep falling with the rest. You can’t do otherwise but to go down. The other raindrops surrounding you don’t give you any space to move. All you can do is wait untill you hit the bottom and splash apart.

Being absorbed by the soil, or being moved on concrete through a fast lane before you dissapear in the depths down there.

That’s how I feel. That’s my mood I guess. And no matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you fight, sometimes all you can do is let it happen.

 

 

Pills, pills, pills.

On my desk, right in front of me, there is a white box. A box with pills. Antidepressants.
I’m staring at it, like it’s a monster that changes everything, that is a key to another world. But really, that does not make sense because there’s no proof it will or will not. For now it’s just a box with pills. Nothing positive, nothing negative.

And yet I find it so weird. This box. These pills. This maybe-things-will-change-for-good-or-worse. The I-will-be-one-of-the-antidepressant-people. My head goes into a place where there are messages that were in the news saying things like: “Too much people get antidepressants too easily and they don’t really need them”, and things like that. Am I one of them? Or do I really need them? I don’t know. How do you decide? There is so much opinions about that. I just don’t know.

Anyway, I will not start them before a couple of weeks since I can’t avoid driving a car next week and in two weeks. Both the warning sticker and the doctor told me not to drive for two weeks. And also I thought it’s better to start them when I see someone sometimes, like my psychologist. Since I don’t have an appointment for the next three weeks, I will not start now. Did I justify myself enough?

Assuming there is never a really a good day to start them anyway, I will start them just in the start of my new job. Recently I found a new job that starts in a couple of weeks. I guess it’s the best I can do – I just hope things are not going to be messed up.

 

 

The ocean of the invisible

IMG_2230

Waves growing enormously
letting the buoy dance against its will
but look further ahead, because the moment of silence
is
where the storm refills

From the distance, or from the field of the eye
it could look like a big pool of emptiness, just crushing waves
where a life could easily die

underneath there is a whole world
one that seems so quiet and so calm
you would not even wonder

But that, is the eye of the storm.

The tornado of pain

Going from neutral to low. From low to neutral. And down again to low. It’s tiring to have to make so much effort to stay neutral. I’m trying. Really. I try to follow the advice of my new psychologist – but it’s hard and I already forgot half of what she said.

That head of mine.

Sometimes I have these thoughts in my head, and they maybe make me sound insane, but I guess they are just there because I think I’m in pain.

Then I think I wish I would drink, or I would have been an alcoholic, because then I would drink until I would feel completely numb. Or I think that if I would have been a user of drugs, I would take so much I would be completely out of this world. Sometimes I do wonder how it feels to take cocaine, or heroin, or stuff like that. If it really feels so good that you can’t resist it. Because honestly, I can not imagine that something feels so good that you want nothing else anymore. I can’t imagine that exists. At least not right now.

But I’m none of those. So it will not happen. And I  guess I just have these thoughts because I’m in pain. Or I think I am, but I don’t really know why.

 

 

But I guess I’ll do what the nurse and the new psychologist both said. The nurse said it several times even, also stating she’s not particularly fond of medication. But they both told me they thought it would be good for me to go in for medication. So I made an appointment at the doctor, to ask for an antidepressant.

It’s not that I’m totally against it, but there is a huge block for me. Because last time I was on this stuff and due some circumstances I had to stop at once, there was no help. Nor the hospital nor the mental health service was there. They would just point at each other.  I was completely on my own. And I promised myself that would never happen again. Because it is so horrible. I never want to go through that again.

So I feel a bit stuck. Stuck to not have it. Stuck to have to get it again and taking the risk of something I never want to happen again.

 

 

 

Tears for a dead cat

My little old friend died today. The cat living at my parents. He was sick a bit more lately, his health went up and down. Now he was a 17,5 year old cat, so not the youngest anymore, but he was really one of a kind. One with an instruction book. He always needed to be around with people. With all his own specific manners, demands, wishes, behaviour. Often when I would be home, he would hang with his full body on one of my arms, sitting there as a king being carried around. I never understood how that could be comfortable, but appearantly it was for him.

Since last weekend he didn’t eat anymore and he lost quite some weight.  I went to the vet twice. The first time we thought it was a throat infection he had before and that would explain the not eating too, but after 2 days it got worse. So I went back with the cat. He had to stay at the vet for tests and infusion therapy. I was supposed to call this afternoon, but this morning the vet already called me. I knew enough.

He was more sick than we thought, liver, kidneys, and in the end heart failure. He passed away in his sleep and that is good, but I still feel bad about letting him there. Though it was the only chance of survival, or not being in pain.

This afternoon I went to pick him up, because we will bury him in the garden, next to the other animals. I cried in the car. I cried at the vet. I cried on the way back. I am not really a person who cries a lot usually, but lately I don’t know what is happening to me, but I cry. Also in front of other persons. I cried at my previous job. I cried when I put my love at the train for a long trip. And now I cry for the cat.

There’s nothing wrong with that. Poor thing. It’s so quiet in the house now. No more meows, no more sitting on laps, no more screaming in the mornings, no more demands of food, attention, no more. Like always, I find death so weird. Really weird.

 

The Circus of Loneliness

The last week or so, I’m really feeling this weight pulling me down. I feel the depressed side of me,  and I try to work it out but this side and the other,  don’t seem to agree.

Since a week or so, I have a bit of trouble to sleep, I don’t want to eat anymore and I avoid cooking. I try to eat with others all the time, but end up eating frozen-meals (of course heated in the end) or pizza or something quick if that doesn’t work out. I go to the grocery store but messed up, like I’m not my usual self, sometimes I feel like I’m not real, I’m not the aware person I usually am. I feel like zombie.

I feel the emptiness in my life lurking around the corner. I reach the point where there is nothing to do, where nothing seems to matter. I know this is where a drop can start.

I’m trying to keep a bit busy, and find things to do. I clean the house, try to get rid of unneccesary stuff that is just in the way, move, go outside, see people sometimes, and I booked a flight to Corsica for October.

I always wanted to go to Corsica, so far I’ve never been. It will happen soon. I look forward to it I think, and yet it’s this bleak thing that will happen appearantly. I don’t really feel it. Or I do, but my feelings seem to be washen away a bit, like a jeans that is bleached. I don’t know. It’s a bit weird, not really nice.

Corsica is also home of the GR20, a hiking trails.  A part of that hiking trail, is called the Cirque de la Solitude, which means like the circus of loneliness. This name really attracts me, but this part of the trail is closed due to an accident a couple of years ago where more people died in bad weather circumstances.So I will not see it, nor go there, but I am really wondering about this place.

Last week I went to see a ‘new’ psychologist. The nurse I see sometimes got me a referral, because she will stop working at my doctors place and thinks I need more help. Probably I have to change again, because something changed in health insurance and in fact health insurance decides where you can go or not. But so far I could stay at this new psychologist, who I will see again in two weeks. I really don’t knwo what to think about it. I keep falling down. Crashing,crawling up, and it continues like this.

Anyway, I don’t know what to think about everything. I don’t believe I will ever get rid of all of this. I am too well to be sick, and too sick to be well.

I’m stuck, in my own cirque de la solitude.