through the lens

I was thinking about how much I’ve always cared about people’s opinions so much!! Like, fuck the other people’s opinions, dude!!!!

Now, I’m so sad and mentally sick, and I have absolutely no one but my family. People only judge you when you’re happy.

I mean, that says a lot about homophobia. For years I said “I’m not homophobic” but I stopped playing soccer because I didn’t people thinking I liked girls (because that’s what people used to talk about) like...millie???? that’s homophobia, bitch!!and who cares what they think man?????  what if I liked girls????? that’s not a thing I should be ashamed of???

what if I grow up and decide to marry a woman??? if she makes me happy why the fuck would I care about other people’s opinions??? they aren’t the ones making me happy, and if I was sad they wouldn’t care about my existence so???? you know what I mean????if you’re happy don’t care about what people say, i’f you’re sad don’t care about what people say

Mom.

It’s been a while since I’ve been wanting to talk about this. Now I decided it’s time to take this out of my chest. Here we go.

My mom is a people pleaser. Enneagram type two. The giver. She puts the other’s needs before her own. 

And you know how I FINALLY got in that conclusion? By thinking! Nah, I’m kidding! By asking myself for the millionth time “why is life so unfair to my mom?”.

The answer? Life is not unfair to her. Everything that happens in her life is because she wants to, simple. 

And her life is like this because she never actually stopped to take care of it. THERE! Am I a genius? 

I’m gonna explain to make everything more clear. 

A great example of that is: me. While studying my mind I realized that I am 100% empathetic to people and 0% empathetic with myself. And when asking myself “why’s that?”, I came to the conclusion: because it’s who I am. But I also came to another conclusion! Even when I was 100% empathetic to everyone but myself I would still feel like I wasn’t being empathetic enough. There was always a little voice telling me that I always making selfish decisions. That voice is my mom’s. 

She never actually said you’re being selfish, but she never had to.

And the truth is that, no, I wasn’t being selfish in most of the situations she thinks I was. I was simply not being 100% selfless.

Which is not a bad thing. But it’s a thing that she was taught to be the right thing to do. 

Whenever I would even try to make a decision that was not entirely selfless, I always caught myself backtracking. Because of her! 

And I’m not saying she’s a bad person, however I’m not blaming her either. She was just taught the wrong thing.

I great example of this is what happened last week. I couldn’t sleep on Friday, so I thought, “maybe I could try to sleep in the living room tomorrow, maybe I’ll feel better”. Saturday night. She got into my bedroom to sleep, I went to the living room. Before I could do so, she got super mad. Se got her stuff and she went to sleep on the living room!

Why?????

Why would she put herself into that???? 

Obviously, I felt guilty. Even though I wasn’t being selfish. Still, she had to sleep in the living room, and I didn’t even ask her to, you know what I’m saying?

I mean, yeah, I stayed alone in my room the entire day, and when she got into my bedroom to sleep with my brother, I immediately exited the room, which makes sense if she got mad (right?). But she could just think “Screw that weird teenager, if she wants to sleep in the couch, it’s her decision and not mine!” But no. Instead, she took the bad situation for herself?????????????

I remember when I first got into tumblr that I would read those messages of comfort saying “it’s okay to stop and take a time to simply breathe”, “it’s okay to put yourself first”, “it’s okay if you decide to take care of yourself today, it’s okay”. And it’s so simple but I took so long to understand that those weren’t just words, they actually had a meaning. It was ACTUALLY okay to choose myself. It is okay if you’re not 100% selfless, because you are just as important as other people. It’s okay.

But, my mom? She doesn’t know that.

If I tell her that, she will probably say that she doesn’t have time for that. To take care of herself. 

Did she ever had time?

She doesn’t have a husband that doesn’t make her feel like a queen because the universe is mean to her, but because she accepted being this. Less than she is, she’s okay with that. Because she doesn’t believe she’ll ever find someone else. Because she doesn’t want to have a failed marriage. I mean, imagine what people would say! 

Her career isn’t just where it is because she doesn’t have opportunities. It’s because she chose to help the others, until it was too late for her to leave the school she works. And even now, she could change that! She could fight for herself, but she doesn’t believe herself. I mean, imagine if God tries to give her an opportunity and she loses it to help someone else? Or she is just too distracted thinking about the problems and doesn’t realize what’s right in front of her. Can you imagine?

She just gets so crazy when I don’t let her in. In 2019, I didn’t let her in, she called a psychologist. In 2020, I didn’t let her in, she called a therapist. In 2021, I didn’t let her in, so she called a psychiatrist. All of that without telling me. She gets insane when you don’t let her in. Because I’m not letting her do the one thing she can do (she thinks she can do). Which is help others before herself. I’m always saying “take care of yourself” and “sorry, I don’t trust you to that” and it simply kills her. Because she doesn’t want to help herself. She wants to help me. And she wants to put my pain before her own. But I won’t let her do it. I simply won’t. 

She regrets losing many years in life because she has been living others people’s lives. Because she hasn’t been there for herself. 

As there’s a very big difference between ‘nines’ and ‘two’s’. Nines can see things from everyone’s perspective, but theirs. Two, might not understand, but they’ll be there for you, they’ll take your weight and put in their own shoulders, and they won’t think about themselves. Because, they don’t have time!!! (they already have other’s problems in their head that’s why they don’t have time you know!!!!!)

I don’t know what’s happening in my mom’s head right now, but I’m a hundred percent sure that forty five percent is other people’s problems, and the other forty five is problems that aren’t actually problems but she thinks she is because she doesn’t believe that she can overcome them. You know? That’s why she says “things are hard, you don’t have any idea” maybe I don’t.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t be empathetic enough to understand, right? 

Right.

The most disturbing thing about being highly sensitive are the sounds. The million sounds all at once. It hurts so bad.

I can’t wait to live alone because everyday all of those noises they drive me INSANE. And it just pulls out an anger so strongly inside of me. And it makes me so mad. I want to punch the wall a million times until my knuckles are bleeding. Because the sounds. THE SOUNDS. They are so strong and they hurt so much. But instead of punching the wall, I cry. All the hurt, I keep it to myself. I stuff the anger. Every day.

So, I keep hurting and suffering every single day. And it hurts so much. Because I have no one to share this with because nobody fucking believes me. Nobody.

I’m so tired of crying. I’m so tired of hurting. It’s exhausting.

I mean, will that EVER change?

My mom can be such an asshole sometimes, and I’m not saying that to be stuck in a situation and not let it go or whatever. I’m saying this because I simply forget. Sometimes things get hard for me. Sometimes breathing gets fucking hard. And she’s doesn’t understand that. She doesn’t understand anything that hasn’t happened to her. She doesn’t even allow herself to choose her in some situations, she’s a complete people pleaser. She lives for the others. And she can’t even admit that to herself. So, like, there are so many things about mind and mental health that she just can’t even start to comprehend. And she won’t. 

So, stop trying to be her therapist.

She won’t fucking understand you.

I’m bothered because my mom keeps saying I’m gonna be psychologist or therapist or whatever. Like, stop saying that, dude!! She doesn’t know that. But she keeps saying like she’s sure. It’s ruining it for me. 

Because, yeah, okay, maybe I like to look at people and read them. Maybe I like to understand emotion and watch people’s emotions like it’s a scientific experiment that I don’t have to make but I do it for fun.

Maybe I think too much about mind and people’s minds and try to give them all one advice. Maybe I search about the nine types of enneagram personalities and try to understand them because, again, I want to understand people and follow their process into developing an emotion or feeling. Maybe I want to look at people and truly see them. Maybe.

But I’ll figure that out. Me. Like Nathaniel Drew said once: “people like to figure things out by themselves”. I know that I do. And I’ve been in that process where I’m like “You’re gonna figure it out, don’t worry.” And I’m just waiting on it. I’m counting on it. 

Also, I don’t want to be a doctor. I don’t fucking want to. 

I wanna work out there. With art. I know that. 

I think when I read bechloe there’s a certain insecurity. ‘Cause a part of me is so scared that I’ll never find that in life. Something that beautiful and strong.

I pray to God that I find someone like they found each other. Because that’s pretty special. Way more than that, actually.

But, yeah, I shouldn’t be worried with this time thing. Everything’s gonna be fine. Things are happening in its own time.

I feel kind of off those days. Like something’s missing. Like there’s something I should be doing but I don’t know what it is.

But, it’s okay, I’m never alone.

Things will be alright.

Okay, before saying anything I wanted to mention that I am kind of terrified and in shock. For two reasons. The first one being: I just read a fanfic about a throuple. I didn’t know that it was going to be about THAT and now i’m like: 👁👄👁

The second one being the whole reason I’m here. It’s a lot. Be ready. 

Well, one of my childhood friends is pregnant. And she’s 15. Yeah. A lot, right?

My first thought was: OH MY GOD!?

My second thought was: dude, she had sex without protection???

My third thought was WAIT SHE HAD SEX.

Because, well, I haven’t even kissed yet, how behind am I?

And then my fourth thought: how is she going to go through a pregnancy!? 

And yeah, you get where this is going. I had a lot of thoughts when I heard the news.

I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to say where the problem is because the problem is everywhere here, man.

Alright. Let’s start with the obvious. Age.

Her future is really compromised here and I have no idea how the next few years are gonna be for her. It’s just a lot. This is all too much for a 15 year-old. You know?

I don’t really know what to say.

This girl could enjoy her youth but she’s not gonna have so much time because she’ll be too busy being a MOM. A MOM! 

It’s crazy.

Now, let’s go to the part of the problem that I come in.

This girl has my age. 

And well, we can tell who is the responsible one here but, I don’t know, I always have that feeling that I am behind, you know? I mean, girls in my age only think about boys. And kissing and hooking up, finding boyfriends or whatever.

And I’m not saying that’s not something I want. It’s quite the opposite actually, I want to fall in love. Or to live anything close to a romance or something. Of course I want. But, I don’t want this to be all. Like, I don’t need this to be the only thing I talk about, you know?

Does it bother me? That I haven’t kissed yet? Well, yes. That’s the reason why I’m always thinking about it after all.

The thing is: I don’t have friends either. And it bothers me just the same. 

It’s about people. You know?

I mean, I don’t even have friends. Let alone a boyfriend. 

And this is where the real problem comes: the pressure.

I’m in good terms with myself about that. I’m aware that this is something that bothers me and I’m willing to work on that. To get better. Mostly now, with therapy. 

It’s just that, everyone’s always asking. And even though I’m okay with not having anyone in my life right now. When I say it out loud for the girls who are just obsessed with people and guys, it sounds like the most horrifying thing. And I feel embarrassed, small even. Like I’m just an idiot for being so behind. For not even trying. For being stuck in my imagination reading books all day like a 7 year old.

And I hate that feeling.

I hate feeling behind in life.

Not in life life, but in love life.

Because I’m simply crazy about romance (and it’s only not my favorite thing in the world because I’m much more crazily passionate about music). So, why am I not investing in that?

Here it goes, what I’m really doing for my life, what’s really going on in here, in this crazy mind of mine:

I’m ill. I’m mentally ill. I have a lot of plans for my professional life. But I’m not thinking about them. I’m thinking about my mental illness. I’m thinking about getting better as if nothing else matters. I’m just so scared of letting life slip out of my hands. I’m scared of losing years of my life, so I’m living the present moment. I’m trying to live life to the fullest. I’m trying to learn a new thing everyday so I have more opportunities to improve in the next years. Because I know that the years will go by so quickly. And when I realize, I’ll be 30.

I don’t want to decide what I want for my life at 30, I want to decide now. Or at least to make a pattern for me to follow, that can lead me to being something.

I don’t know what I want to do. But I’m doing many things to make whatever I want to do, go well. I’m learning new languages, I’m learning how to be with myself, I’m learning how to deal with big problems (problems don’t exist of course! shoutout to Elkhart T!) and traumas. I’m learning that we kind of need to fall to learn how to get up. I’m learning that along the way a lot of people will give you wrong advice and you can’t always listen to them. Most of the times, you gotta listen to yourself only. And most of the times, you will have to choose yourself in life. And  it’s gonna be hard in the beginning, but that’s okay. More than okay. I’m learning that I really love to learn new things everyday, like, I’m really obsessed! I’m learning that you might not be the best at something, but there’s no such thing as talent, what matters is always the effort and GRIT. I’m learning so much about myself and every day I try to understand a new thing about mental clarity. Because I want to grow. And I’ve been suffering so much lately, I don’t ever want to put anyone in the kind of pain that I feel. Like, last night, when I couldn’t sleep. Not even a little, no even two minutes. So, I cried. The entire night. Because I couldn’t shut my mind. Because I couldn’t turn it off. 

It hurts. And I don’t want to feel that. I don’t want to make people feel that.

So, I’m kind of learning how to be a part of this world. Because a little mistake can change your entire lifetime. However, I’m not thinking about my future. I don’t plan where I will live. I’m not planning the college I’m going to. I’m looking forward, yes. But I’m in the present moment. (Thank you, meditation!) I’m living in the present. TODAY, I’m doing things that will probably make my future a lot better or easier, I hope. And that’s it. That what I’m doing. Trying to stay sane. Trying to stay here. Trying to not let life slip out my hands and trying to enjoy every moment. Paying attention to the little things, not only looking at things or people, but really seeing them. 

Because, yeah, I feel too much. I’m very sensitive. And everything’s a little too much for me. A little too overwhelming, a little too loud, a little too suffocating.

But, I’m being careful.

And, maybe my today plans don’t involve having a time to go out and fall in love. But hopefully they’ll be in the foreseeable future when I’m healing and ready to love. Because, God knows, how much I crave for love.

Romantic kind of love.

(I really crave it.)

I’m thinking that my mom doesn’t understand me. And she never will.

I’ll just leave here the reminder that she doesn’t know what I go through.

She never will.

Her mean words can just die in the air.

It’s all dust.

I know my battle. I know I will win it.

I never needed her for it.

I won’t need now.

But maybe I’ll always need her presence.

And that should be my focus.

No talking about feelings with her, no asking for advices. She’ll never know.

But at least I do.

I know the importance of it all. Of moments. Of presence. 

I’m thinking about something that bothers me. It just bothers me. I don’t like it.

And, no, I’m not talking about my mom’s snoring even though it’s not pleasant and it is giving me headache.

I’m talking about people.

Yes, people bother me. No, I’m just joking.

I don’t know what’s with these people. I don’t know if it’s people from school or it’s just my city, but everyone disappoints me.

Everyone that I try to be friends with or at least close to, ends up showing their dark side and it’s usually by hurting me.

So, like, what’s this about?

(Okay, so, came back to finish writing this because my mom stopped snoring and I can feel a little bit of a headache relief...)

I care too much about people. How people see me. What they think about me. What people are simply doing. And if they’re living a better life than I am. If the girls in my age are looking better than me. Or at least if they look more mature than me.

I worry about those things and I hate that I do because it only hurts me. It doesn’t change things. It doesn’t change reality.

And it’s also pretty stupid.

I don’t want to find a boyfriend now. And I hate this stupid pressure that there is to find one soon. To be dating. To kiss. To be into someone attractive in your age. It’s stupid. And even though I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of falling in love since I was a little kid, I can’t even understand myself. I can’t even understand my own mind. I can’t control myself when having a breakdown, and I let my emotions control me. Involuntarily.

So, why does it bother me so much? If I don’t want to? If I’m in good terms with myself that it’s just not the time? That I just don’t need it? If I’m good with the idea of not going to parties? If I love loving the things I love? If I like being who I am?

(She’s snoring again, dear Lord save me)

Okay, so here it is.

I care too much.

Because I don’t know those answers.

And my mind is always searching for answers. 

But you know what?

I don’t need it.

I don’t need answers.

If I say that I don’t care. Then I won’t care.

I will live for myself. And the rest of the world can screw themselves (people that make me feel bad of course not everyone). I’m living for me. Without paying attention to people’s judgments. Because it won’t change anything. 

If I am in good terms with myself, than that’s enough. That’s all I need.

The real people will stick around.

They’ll stick around the real you.

I think that this year’s gonna be what I make it be.

Of course, only if we don’t have a global pandemic happening.

But I want to let go of control.

I want to be healthy, mentally healthy.

And physically too.

I want my mom to receive good news.

I want my family to be healthy.

I want to have too much love around me.

I want to be loved by myself.

I want to find friends in 2021.

and I want to be me.

(I also want shawn’s happiness and a lot of Bechloe content)

I want love.

Gods love.

Gods warm embrace.

I’m not a truthful person. I only live for myself. Do you mean that you just do things thinking about yourself? No! That’s not what I’m saying. Self love is something I’m still trying to have, so definitely not.

I mean that I live inside of myself.

I say words that I don’t mean.

And most of the times, I don’t say anything at all.

I’m the noisiest person. I talk a lot inside of mind. And my mind is a tremendous chaos. I’m a lot. I feel too much. I think too much. But if you ask somebody to define me, I’m sure they’ll say I’m quiet. I’m peaceful. I’m chill. I’m closed. Closed is not a definition of someone. Is not someone’s flaws or quality. Is not what the person is. If someone is closed, it means they’re hiding who they really are.

And I used to see myself in people’s eyes. For a long time, I truly thought that I was what people thought that I was.

But, I have this power. I’m the only one who knows who I am really am.

So, I (am the only one who) can describe myself as what I really am. And maybe that’s why I took so long to understand myself, ‘cause you can’t find yourself with someone else’s eyes.

But maybe that’s why I don’t have friends.

Because I’m not truthful.

How can I wish that I have people like me around if I don’t show the real me?

Again, I say words that I don’t mean.

I say that I don’t think about things that I think way too much.

I say that I don’t care about things that I care way too much.

It’s like whenever someone gets close to the real me, I push them away. I kick them out. I dismiss them.

I don’t let anyone get close to my being.

It’s like the real me it’s locked in a cage inside of myself and nobody can’t get near this cage. It’s fully protected.

I lost track of things.

I don’t know what happened.

I don’t know what happened that made me close myself like that. I don’t know why I’m so scared of showing myself.

I don’t know why I put this armor to protect my brittle breakable heart.

Like, if someone could touch the real me I could just break. 

It’s almost like if I open myself to anyone, I’m just so scared they would break me.

Because they can. 

Because I am too much.

Because I feel too much.

Because I care too much.

Even when I say I don’t.

December 31st. Tomorrow is 2021. 

2020 was a tough year. That’s probably what literally everyone will say. But, it was.

For me it was, I struggled a lot. My mental health simply was...well, not healthy at all. I had a lot of mental problems, and suffered a lot with that. I think I’m just not suffering so much now because I’m trying not to think about anything. About problems. Because problems don’t exist. I’m just living the present moment. And not focusing on pressure, fears and anxiety.

Meditation is helping me a lot with that.

I finish this year fluent in english! Which is something I’ve longed for so much time! So, I’m proud of myself for finishing the CNA course finally. I mean, I DID IT!

My favorite book this year was The Power Of Now. I went through a lot of changes this year and there was a very big one that happened inside of me, mostly after reading this book. I’ve changed my entire mindset this year, and I’m learning a lot, I’m loving a lot too. And one of the things I’m learning is how to chase what you really want, and also how to truly appreciate the things and people you have around you.

My birthday this year was something surprising. I went out there, and I danced. I had a lot of fun, and I’m thankful for that.

I also met Sleeping At Last. (I already knew them but this year I got the opportunity to know them better. And I did.) And I’m absolutely crazy about his music. In the most rare and beautiful form. It’s something out of this world.

Makes me shiver every time. I feel a lot of positive energy. (Just like I felt many times this year, in my relationship with God. That got stronger and more powerful. Hopefully that will improve even more on the theory part next year.)

I also met Venus, the planet of the Goddess of Love. But, yeah, I mean the song! And it’s currently my favorite of all time. Also met Mercury, the first time I saw myself in a song. And it’s all pretty special.

Chased my passion this year too. To try and find out my ideal career.

A lot.

But got nothing. Maybe it’s not time yet. 

Maybe I’ll find out soon.

It’s okay though. I’ll wait no matter how long. My time will come.

Also, wrote some new songs. Found out some new feelings.

And, started to put my feelings out a lot more.

Also gave much more attention to myself than I have ever given before. I’m doing my best not to hate myself anymore and to stop with the deprecating jokes, and I’m sure this will go on the next year.

I have already a therapy appointment for next year. (Yeah, I’m taking care of myself, of my mind too.)

And more importantly.

This year I’ve spent the longest time at home. But, I also found home in so many other things.

In my favorite movie. When I see that beautiful girl (the one that pushes people away) with her headphones on, carrying her giant heart and huge passion on her bag. And I see me in her. 

When she changes, she makes mistakes and she says she’s sorry. When she looks around and her eyes shine. Because she finds beauty in things other than the one thing she’s crazy about, even though she doesn’t need to. Because she’s grateful and she can’t say it out loud. But her eyes speak louder than any word ever could.

Or in my favorite tv show, where six friends sit in a couch, and talk and joke and make me feel like I’m part of it.

Or in my favorite musical, where the dreamer, with the angelic voice falls in love. And writes songs, and sings. And make friends, connections, history, memories through music. And even after so long, I still see myself in her. I still see everything. I still feel everything.

And God knows, I want to feel.

Or in my favorite song, that talks about love, about constellation, about astronomy and the universe. About an astronomer falling in love and being discovered (astronomy in reverse). About the astronomer being the peacemaker, being closed and the daydreamer, thinking that he would never find something like that. He never thought he could find a single star, but he was given a constellation.

Or in the warmth of my puppy. How I come back home every time I touch him. Or how I come home every time my mind is filled with the memory of a day with my grandparents and my cousin in a rainy day. 

Or maybe home is the way I see things, love things, and make them better than I have found them because I care for them, and that’s why I find myself lost in all the love that I keep overgiving. Because I find home in everything that makes me who I am. Because maybe after all this time, home has been inside of my loving heart all along. 

What I know is that I’ve felt insecure, unsafe, felt like I was falling a lot of times, I lost breath and for a while I thought the air would never come back to my lungs.

But, at home, there’s steadiness, security and safety. Maybe this is the thing I’ve been searching for the entire year.

Safety. Certainty. Stability. Because things are changing. and I just wish I had control of what will change. And I don’t.

I think that reading Beca&Chloe fan fiction gives me different reflections, thoughts, perspective and more. Tonight, I read one where they are parents and I simply love the fluffy family shit but there’s one specific thing that really got me.

Which is: maturity. It wasn’t the first time, I’ve read many books of them being on their thirties, married, and having kids...in this one though, I felt a new level of maturity between the lines of this story. And it got me. 

Because it’s exactly that feeling of maturity that I simply long. And it’s bad, because, I still have plenty of time before I get on my thirties, before I have a kid, before I get married. But, still, there’s a kind of security and confidence that comes with maturity that really makes me just want a little. 

So, Mills, are you saying you want to be...more mature or be on your thirties? No! That’s not what I’m saying. 

What I’m saying is that going to bed, knowing that you have a family, knowing that you’ll wake up next to the person you love for the rest of your days, that you have things, they are yours (You know? It’s all yours. And there’s nothing that make you feel like you don’t genuinely deserve all of that. You simply believe, or at least let it be. Because it’s yours.) gives you a different feeling of firmness. 

Right now, I feel like a scared cat.

I’m so scared of everything.

I’m scared of what the future may hold.

I’m scared I’ll never find true friends.

I’m scared of going to therapy.

I’m scared of finally starting to work. On...like, uh. A real job!

I’m scared of people.

And I doubt everything I own. There’s no confidence in there. And I could be more confident. But as a teenager I’ll never have that kind of confidence that feels more like safety. Does it makes sense?

Like, steadiness. 

Like, they won’t just leave you alone, you know? They won’t go anywhere.

This is your life now. Your family is yours and nobody can’t take that away from you.

This is what I’m talking about.

As a teenager, fear always comes first. Because, well, everything’s new. Everything scares me. And it’s pretty cool, yeah, I have to live to understand those emotions and feelings. But I can’t wait to not feel like that anymore you know? To have sense of steadiness, and security, and firmness, and most importantly...sureness that nobody can take away from me.

Even though sometimes I just want to jump right into adulthood and the feeling I’ve mentioned, this phase that I am right now it’s also pretty great. And I don’t want to waste it. It’s the phase that I don’t know if I can say it’s about loneliness or freedom. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which one I feel.

Maybe the time to find that out hasn’t come yet.

And it’s okay. Because I have a very powerful weapon called  Imagination.