"I am a very stupid man"

“Ouch” is what we say when our body hurts. What are we supposed to say when our mind hurts? Nothing.  Because nobody seems to care.

That’s what I thought at first until I realised everybody cares. Some people don’t show it, some people lose interest and some people can’t always relate but if they listen to your complaint that means that, even if it’s only for a split second, they care.

Saying what’s hurting you is very close to storytelling. You need to make your story interesting. Like a bard singing the story of a long lost hero you must be sure your audience doesn’t fall asleep before the climax.

You should make your story relatable. You need to make your story investing. You need to make your story look like her or his story. And that’s how you make history.

One of the ways I found to relate is to talk about habits. Here’s an example:

“Whenever I felt bad I used to binge eat Snickers, feel worse, then ending up ordering an XXL Pizza.”

If your interlocutor did something similar, you can relate and react to it, if not, he or she might have friends that did so and might propose solutions. This is a dialogue after all. You don’t need to speak in monologues and text in paragraphs.

After exposing yourself you can either explain your findings towards a solution to not feeling worse or, if the person has any advice on the matter, listen to them. You’re not only sharing for the love of sharing. You’re looking for advice too.

To complement the example above here’s a bit of advice I’ve found:

“When I felt bad instead of binge eating snickers I ate apples and punched the heck out of my pillow. I didn’t feel 100 percent better but at least I wasn’t hungry anymore and expelled some of my frustrations on something fluffy”

Some of our thoughts might not be relatable or we just want to keep them for ourselves. I’m talking about those little dark tentacles that reminds us about our past mistakes, our useless present and the lack of control we have on our future.

There are some days where the dark just stabs at our sanity without any particular reason. Even if you have a stable life, lots of friends and a generally healthy lifestyle. It just happens. It helps if you’re generally happier in life. To relate, it used to happen to me quite often, sometimes on a daily basis but now it only happens every six or seven months. So don’t worry, it gets better.

During moments like that there are three things I feel I can do to make it better: sleep, live the day with the darkness veiling my vision or facing it alone. I will try and go through all three and see the pros and cons of each.

Going to sleep is easy. Tire yourself enough, drink an infusion, take a pill and off you go. With your body shutting down your mind does to. Sometimes I understand why some coma patients take so long to wake up.  You can’t distinguish the darkness at night. You can’t see it, but the best is that you can’t feel it.

Waking up is the hardest. Because tendrils are still there chipping at your soul. Sleeping only delays the pain.

We can assimilate the darkness in our minds sometimes with ink.Living through the day with it is dangerous. You may spill it on someone. You are not feeling as good as you want to make everyone believe. Your body language and attitude can and will betray you and you might end up hurting other people, making them guilty for what you are doing to yourself. Yes, this is what happens when you wear an iron mask .

Fighting the darkness head on is the most satisfying because you finally get to see the dawn afterwards. You might want to ask how. The concept is simple. Think of what makes you unhappy. Be loud, smart and courageous by answering your own doubts. Applying this is a quite harder.

For me I end up using my heart’s iron hammer on myself. It hurts as hell but a hammer to the face is less lethal than a knife in the dark.

Everybody has their way of facing the darkness. You can hide under the covers, punch walls or just cry. Do what it takes. Expel everything and believe in yourself. It’s worth it, because getting rid of the darkness means getting to see the sunrise. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see. And it gets better each and every time you do it.

I was recently asked why I felt alone even though I was flooded in a mass of people. The answer is a bit complicated. There’s talking and there’s making everyone care. The later one is what I am looking for. To realise how to at least try and get there is harder than you may think.

I am not someone that closes themselves up more and more after getting hurt. Quite the opposite, I love my scars. They make for nice stories and experiences. Getting hurt while keeping a gentle smile is still my greatest achievement to date.

Not everyone is like that. All I can see sometimes are iron masks on bloody hearts. I understand why almost everyone hides their feelings, their past scars, and their true self. I understand you don’t want more bruises. But I love you and just want to feel your heart next to mine.

That’s is the main reason why, at first, I went for untouched hearts. Looking for purity and a general absence of fear. Even if mistakenly they would hurt me I would just say it was okay. I shouldn’t have done so because some of them tended to do the same with others. They banged their whole beings against so many iron masks they would end up bleeding out and the only thing left would be regret and despair. To those people: I am deeply sorry.

My heart pumps blood.Blood contains iron and instead of forging it into a mask I made a hammer. I became loud. I talked more and more. I banged on everyone’s hearts. I would talk about the weather, the time and how the stars in their eyes shine. I was and still am wierd because of that. I know that sometimes I won’t get in. If I bleed it’s just going to be another scar in an oh so wounded heart whereas if I open the clam folk close themselves in I will find a bunch of diamonds and pearls. Maybe even some rubies.

As implied above diamond, pearls and rubies are rare. Looking for them is a lonely hobby. Being scared to hurt innocents and passing my time banging on iron. Coming home imagining what could have been if I said or did something else is a feeling I got used to. It’s all worth it.

I forget a lot of stuff. I forget names, I forget birthdays, I even forget putting sugar in my coffee but there’s two things I never forget: people related events and how I felt when experiencing them. And those kind of memories bring a smile to my lips. It’s all worth it.

If I did a cringe worthy joke the first time we met, I will remember it. If you wore a funny shirt a month ago during a night out, I will remember what it said. If I kissed you while I was drunk I will remember the taste of your lip-gloss.

Those memories sometimes come to mind randomly. That’s why sometimes, while walking, you will see me blushing, frowning or smiling for no apparent reason. That’s why it’s all worth it.

I love that. And this hammer of mine will hopefully not only bring smiles to my lips.I hope to see more random smirks in the street during my lifetime. And even if I get wounded, I can say that my bloody lips have the raddest lipstick.

"I am a very stupid man" I say.

That's the line that I tend to use whenever I either do a mistake that makes me think "what could have been" or just flat out miss something due to pure and utter ignorance.

For this blog the paragraph above will be mostly referenced to explain a romantic situation. But before getting to that I feel like explaining some things about myself.

I love. I love everything so much. I love people I have just met. I love old time friends. I love people smiling back at me. I love people that kissed me. I love people that hit me. What I really want to say is that if we interacted I will remember you, I will love you.

The main reason for this behaviour is the fact that I always was "lone": a "lone child", a "lone wolf", a "loner, "alone".

There's nothing wrong about being alone at first. At least you get things done, you enjoy stuff without anyone's influence and, most importantly, you develop your imagination a bit more.

Some people say "Expect nothing, appreciate everything". They may have a point and objectively it can help you become happier but it doesn't feel natural for people like me. We dream of all possible and impossible outcomes. We expect everything and, at least I, love that.

"Loneliness" has the same roots as "alone". I do get lonely, often. It's like finding Ali Baba's cave, entering it and realising you're trapped inside. Lonely people often create a personal bubble. It can be of many uses: a shield from society, a sword against problems inside and outside of our heads or even just a sanctuary of peace for our minds.

The danger of this bubble is, as stated previously with the cave metaphor, never getting out. Happilly some of us realise that sooner or later so we decide to start meeting people.

Meeting people is easy. Talking to people is hard. We lived so much in a kingdom in our minds that we didn't realise kings and queens aren't that relevant anymore.

At twelve I decided to finally make the big step. But all I ever knew about social interaction were phrases from the books I have read, the games I have played and the music I listened to. And let's say heroic fantasy is a lot less impressive when wearing jeans and an oversized t-shirt.

I didn't speak that much at first. I listened. I listened to conversations around me. After a few months of hesitation I finally jumped in. I said "Hi, my name is Andy, what's yours?" to the person standing next to me during the first day of class that year.

I can't say that I remember his name but to this day I remember him smiling and giving a typical answer. We ended up talking about stuff we liked, disliked and or simple information about the weather. This conversation was awkward. I stuttered often. There were long silences that I used to think about what to talk about. In hindsight it was an awful conversation and to this day, I love each and every part of it.