‘Yes, they’re sharing a drink they call loneliness But it’s better than drinkin’ alone’ Billy Joel

I never thought that finishing a mental health group program at a local hospital

Would remind me of a challenge I’ve often faced in my life

It’s called ‘loneliness’

One I’ve struggled with throughout my life

‘Loneliness is often defined in terms of one’s connectedness to others, or more specifically as “the unpleasant experience that occurs when a person’s network of social relations is deficient in some important way”.’-Wikipedia

I can’t recall the first time I felt lonely

I remember watching home videos of me as a kid at a birthday party

I was standing by the wall

Watching as all the other kids played and ran by me

I wonder know if that little girl felt lonely

Even in a crowded room with other kids laughing and playing

The last time I can clearly remember not feeling lonely was when I was a kid and I had two cousins who would sleep over for days at a time

Even during the school week

We went to school together too

But it was over too soon

Because when I became a teenager everything changed

Adolescence was a fucked up time for me

I felt like an outsider who didn’t really belong anywhere

And I don’t think I ever really found my niche

Until recently that is

Until the group that I was in at the hospital

The misfits

I wasn’t alone in the group

Even lost in my own thoughts

There were people beside me

Who knew

Who understood

There is nothing as intoxicating of a feeling as being understood

Of course we exchanged numbers with promises to stay in touch

But promises don’t always last and we all forget

Anyway that the group is over

And I’m not working

I find myself alone a lot

Being alone isn’t a bad thing per say

But it does give me too much time to dwell in the feelings that being alone brings

It’s empty and hollow

Like a cave

And sometimes I just want to leave this cavernous space

And be around people who get me

But I’m sort of stuck in this time and place

And I’m worried that if things don’t change

That lonely small little girl who watched the world go by

Will become a lonely sad old lady

Who is watching the world go by…

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‘The Bravest Thing I Ever Did Was Continuing My Life When I Wanted To Die.’ Juliette Lewis

It’s the eve of my graduation

Tomorrow I will graduate from the Taking Charge Program at Humber Hospital

Where I’ve been going two to three times a week for the last two months

I remember in the days leading up to the start of the program

I had no hope that things would improve

I had no hope that I would learn anything or experience anything life changing

I was so wrong

In this program I’ve had the fortune of meeting people

Who are like me

Something I’ve not experienced often, if at all

Sometimes one of us will be talking and I’ll look around and see others nodding their heads

Or we can finish each other’s thoughts

It’s uncanny

How a group of totally diverse strangers could share such intimate details of their lives

And bond in such a way that makes me wonder what I’ll do when I don’t get to see them so often

Often the stories are sad

Or frustrating

Or disheartening

Or just too fucking familiar

But there’s this weird sense of comfort in all of it

The comfort you feel when you’re just completely understood

Even in the midst of all your fucked up-ness

I’m proud that I made it through this program

I’m glad I forced myself to talk, share and listen

Even on the days when I wanted to remain curled up in bed

I’m honoured to have been part of this wonderful group of misfits

I didn’t think I could learn more about myself

Having been through this so many times

But I did

I learned about myself

I learned that in the end

Even after all the shit and hurt and pain

I can still be in such awe of life

And I’m still willing to do whatever it takes to do more than simply exist

I want to live

‘Armed with skill and it’s frustration. And grace, too.’ The hip

There’s something about the sight of my hands covered in paint or glue

Chipped nail polish and stained fingers

It’s the look of hard working hands

It shows the world that I’m a hard worker

Valuable

A member of society

Even though I don’t feel that inside

It reminds the outside world that I still exist

It hints to the world around me that I’ve gone through my share of battles

Battles I still go through

It allows me to feel purpose

Even though most days I’m walking through life without an idea of why I’m still here

And yet I still feel pride in my tarnished hands

It’s similar to how I feel about my collection of tattoos

It illustrates to the whole world

That I was here

That I’m here now

That I’m alive

That I’m still surviving

The only difference is now I’ve got the battle scars to show it

Damaged Goods (Shoppe)

Hey friends

I know I’ve been M.I.A around here and have completely been up my own ass

But it hasn’t been for nothing

You know that quote by Albert Camus: In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.

Well it’s actually true in my case

During what has undoubtedly been the worst time of my life…hospital visits and crisis centres and panic attacks and crying. Oh man the crying…

Well somehow during that, I started fooling around with decoupaging and that led me to painting. Now I must warn you that despite how often I’ve been asked or told that I ‘must be an artist’. I’ve never thought of myself as creative nor did I have any interest in pursuing art of any kind other than just to please my own eye.

But I found that I can literally turn my brain off while creating or painting or decoupaging or whatever else I come up with. Hours go by, my hands and arms are covered with Mod Podge and paint…and I have created something. That feeling of accomplishment is so rewarding. It’s intoxicating actually. And it feels really fucking good.

And so began Damaged Goods Shoppe. I don’t know where this will lead me or how it will turn out. I can, however say that nothing, not even writing this blog has made me feel as vulnerable showcasing my art. I’m not used to that. I’m such an open book and sometimes even a little cocky but this is different somehow.

Anyway, for now you can find my creations on Instagram at

www.instagram.com/damagedgoodsshoppe

On Facebook at

https://www.facebook.com/damagedgoodsshoppe/

On Etsy at

https://damagedgoodsshoppe.etsy.com. 

and you can reach me through any of those sources or via email at damagedgoodsshoppe@gmail.com

I hope you’ll take a peak and I’d love and appreciate any feedback

-Angela

Shopkeeper of Damaged Goods

I’ve been working hard on creating

‘And if you look at your reflection…is that all you want it to be? What if you could look right through the cracks? Would you find yourself afraid to see?’ nine inch nails

My greatest fear is similar to that of being forgotten

But it’s more about living with the knowledge that when I’m gone, I’ll be forgotten

Maybe that’s why, when I was younger, carving things like ‘Angela was here’ on desks, felt like such a necessity

This great fear of mine

It’s not that I won’t exist

It’s the that I will have left no discernible mark on this world

Other than my carbon footprints

I wonder if that’s the reason people have children…

To ensure a piece of them lives on

It’s like a taste of immortality

I’ve got no delusions of grandeur

I won’t have discovered some new disease or uncovered some brilliant theory that will propel my name forward

There’s no legacy to leave behind

One day…

Who knows when?

My life will end

And that will just sorta be the gist of it…

Seems anticlimactic after everything, doesn’t it?

It’s the thought of having endured so much and then one day, it’s just *poof* over

And there’s nothing to show for it

It seems like such a waste of time

Time wasted throughout a lifetime

Time eaten up by anxiety and panic attacks and Optic Neuritis and depression

Time that I can never get back

There’s nothing more fear inducing than running out of time

On a test, in a race

Needing more time

But looking up at that damn clock

And seeing the seconds tick tick tick

It’s like Tyler Durden says in Fight Club:

This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time’

That realization is supposed to motivate you

To change

To live fully

But what if all it does, is leave you paralyzed in fear?

What if it just haunts you?

Always reminding you

That time is slipping away

And you haven’t done what you were supposed to?

What you were meant to do?

What if it just reminds you that what you had, you simply wasted?

I hate the idea of leaving behind a gravestone with my name

And yet I am even more terrified of the possibility, in which that might be the only mark I’ve left on this earth

‘Feel the hollowness inside of your heart And it’s all, right where it belongs.’ Nine Inch Nails

I wrote this :

http://FUCKMS.CA/2018/03/21/A-TYPICAL-SICK-DAY-IN-THE-LIFE-OF-A-YOUTH-WORKER/

A year ago today.

My heart hurts

Looking around at my life

I still can’t quite accept that this is actually mine

Then I get mad at myself

Because that’s probably why I can’t move forward

I miss who I could have been

I miss who I should have been

I miss who I almost was…