The Jam Files #17 — “The Cute”

In the spirit of “loving myself as I am” I wanted to honor my inclination toward cute things by organizing my hair accessories today. I don’t have very many. Just a gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of mostly scrunchies, a few clips that don’t hold my thin hair well, & some barrettes. I don’t know when I bought these soft, little hair bands with a cute bow on them, but they were new to me & I love them.

What’s this? She likes cute things? Dark, sad, poet Jenn likes cute things?

I do. It’s not a secret if you know me in real life & even though my poems often reflect the darker aspects of life & are mainly about my chronic illnesses & traumas, I’m not a very morose person. I have my days, sure. We all do. But I’m often pretty hopeful. Friendly. Not super bubbly & cheerful, but I think I smile more often than I don’t. I listen to emo music. I cry a lot. I’m also a hopeful romantic who wears pink a bit too much. This got me thinking about honoring both of those aspects of myself. For a very long time (over a decade), I feel like I was rotting away in my bedroom & writing was my outlet for that. I needed to put the pain somewhere else. It’s not like those pains have disappeared completely. I have good days & bad days just like I did before, but the bad days are a breeze compared to what they were. I do feel like I’m in a new body though. One that’s a bit more free to be.

I think I struggle to write right now because my inspiration is coming from somewhere else. Yes, I’m penning things & speaking a lot more openly about some heavy topics in my life, but that’s for me. What I feel like blogging about, or sharing on social media, is a bit more personal than just trying to hide painful events in metaphors. I’m not happy with my poetry attempts as of late, but I have been sending out some submissions. Yesterday I wrote about Doctor Who & my life & put the text over show stills like is very popular on Instagram & I didn’t feel strange about it. I really enjoyed taking the time to make that. I’ve been a fan of collaging for a long time & it feels like those type of posts are a digital form of that. It made me miss my Tumblr days.

I’ve got to like who I am no matter what that looks like. I’ve got to not be afraid to be me or like the things I like. I have to not be afraid to share any of that either. I don’t like the “online persona” thing, or “I have to keep to my page’s aesthetics” thing. I know we all do it a little bit. I just don’t want to feel like “oh, no I’m shining a light through that darkness with my post about my Sanrio squishmallow addiction! what will they think of me?!” So what? After that I’ll post about Doctor Who & daddy issues. Then about NBC Hannibal & daddy issues. Or Camille Preaker in Sharper Objects & mommy issues. Then a poem about Ian Curtis. A picture of the lake I live by. Then an Ojibwe language meme. It’s all okay & no one really cares anyway, right? (Let me clarify, you care about my wellbeing & all that but I’m sure you’re not clutching your pearls or anything. I’m not some controversial queen or anything. You’re probably not blinking an eye at it. So that gets me to the point of this…why am I so afraid all the time?)

That’s been the point of pretty much all my writing lately. This fear. This awful fear of my own self. That I can’t be “too much” or “not enough” of something or I will be hurt, locked up, or worse. It’s insane. It’s not even about perception. I don’t care how I’m viewed. I care about actions people can take if they don’t like something I do. I know where that comes from. I’m not going into it here, but I understand what it’s about. I’m trying very hard to break that right now. I’m terrified of every single one of you reading this right now. I’m terrified of certain people (who probably never will) possibly reading this right now. This is a problem.

The first step to breaking through this is to be me. All the time. Everywhere. Don’t think “should I buy this cute, pink Care Bears sweater as a 40 year old woman”?, “What if someone knows I sit in my room & listen to Nicole Dollangager & muse about fictional TV characters?” “Is it acceptable to talk about a UFO sighting in this situation, is that weird?” etc. Be myself with everyone. Not sugarcoat things for some people. Avoid other topics with others, etc. Because I do this. & I don’t like that I do this.

& as for creative acts, I attended a discussion yesterday where we talked about all of life being a creative act. I had been feeling guilty about not devoting a lot of time to writing like I used to, but then I thought about how I can make dinner for my husband now, how I decorated my apartment for Christmas, how I made the Doctor Who post. These are creative acts! I don’t need to be stressing about not spending hours writing because it doesn’t mean I’m done forever. & look, I’m writing right now, aren’t I?

I used to blog about everything “back in the day”. I stopped because of fear. I didn’t care about a following. I didn’t care about what I was saying or not saying. I just did it because I enjoyed it. I want to enjoy it again. I don’t want to open up a blank page & start shaking. The rest of my projects & the direction my creativity is going will fall into place. That’s the way it has to be now. I don’t want to worry about it anymore. I want to enjoy the snow, snuggle my stuffed My Melody, re-watch Series 5 of the reboot of Doctor Who, & read all these books that I can’t stop requesting from the library. I’m reading much slower now & my focus isn’t perfect, but reading is happening. I am also really enjoying spending time with people offline & it’s nice to be able to take care & help out my husband now instead of me being completely helpless all the time. It’s even nicer that I can walk & move around without feeling like I’m dying all the time.

I’m loving the cute right now. Hallmark Christmas movies, soft sweaters, sweet & wintry scents, & pastel colors which I guess are out of season now, yeah? I also want to throw some paint around. My husband is working on a painting submission right now so all of these art supplies are lying around & I think I want to play a little bit. It’s been awhile since I made any art that wasn’t writing. Maybe all that’s in me will come out in colors better? I guess I’ll see.

It’s a drippy day & all the snow is melting so I’m not sure if I’ll walk today. It can get slippery on the bridges & I just don’t know if I want to mess with that. I have a habit of changing my mind last minute so who knows, maybe I’ll end up venturing out there.

December is starting off as I expected it would. Some days are warm & cozy, other days I’m feeling like I don’t know what I’m doing & I’m worrying about ridiculous things. Some days I’m even in another time & place because PTSD is cyclic & I’m trying to get my head on straight. It feels like it’s on right now. I feel very happy & calm today. Nothing has changed in that area of my life. One day at a time.

So here’s to trying to be a little fearless. (I’m sorry, our eight legged friends will still be a main source of my anxiety & nightmares. I’m also not going to skydive or climb a tall mountain. I certainly will not look over the edge of some tall building either. In fact, how about I just stay down here while you go on up there? I’m also not going to shut off street smarts that I learned in Detroit & go down any dark alleyways by myself or anything. I’m talking about just not being so afraid to be who I am, which sometimes is a scared, cowering girl & I’m okay with that.) My own existence isn’t as terrible as my darkest thoughts will have me believe. I’m not out to change the world or try to fix anything. I just want to exist on this planet & be fine with doing that. I also want to play around creatively. I think I have to. John Cleese has a whole speech about not being afraid of that. I really like it. I want to take his advice.