Trust your instinct

 

"Always trust your gut, it knows what your head hasn’t figured out yet." — Anonymous

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There's a lot of voices in my mind, and perhaps you can relate to that. Every minute of the day, there's an ongoing discussion inside of my head. I hear my mom's voice, unfortunately not in a pleasant way. Hers is the voice I hear when I think bad things of myself. I wish it wasn't that way, and I'm sure it'd break her to know that, but it is what it is. I also hear the voices of the people that have caused me pain, the kind of pain that would devastate the average person. I don't want to victimize myself, I hate that, but in order to heal, I've had to finally begin to accept what has happened.

The most precious voice I have is my true voice. Some have described it to me as my elevated spirit, or the super-ego that Freud described, telling me the truths I'm yet not entirely conscious of. Some have told me to tune my ear so I can listen to the messages more distinctly. But when I hear that voice, it doesn't come from afar, from somewhere above, from the universe. It comes from a place I cannot name, deep inside of me, located approximately an inch below the sternum. It's the voice of my instinct, one built on blood, wounds, and mistakes.

For those who don't know me, which is most of you, I'd like to tell you a bit more of my character, as I show it to the world. First of all, an anecdote. My mom used to tell this story on each and every one of my birthdays. According to her, when I was born, the first thing I did was smile. Yes, a newborn baby, cracking her first smile minutes after being pushed into this craziness of a world. The thing is, even if that story weren't true, I've been smiling ever since. Even in my worst moments, that smile has always been there.

I guess that's why my family has never believed in my depression. They took for granted the joy I used to show. Now, they barely see any of me. When I don't have the strength to smile, I hide. And bleed. I guess the fact that they don't believe me it's actually my fault, maybe I haven't shown my vulnerable self, maybe I haven't given them the chance to comprehend. Oh, but I have. Countless times. And I got nothing but dismissal in return.

I don't blame them, it takes a lot to recognize the suffering of another person and to not run away scared of it. It's ugly, but it can also be beautiful. If only my mom had stayed in silence, hugged me, and told me how much she values my presence on earth, I might have felt understood and loved. But she did her best, and her best means that she screamed at me and told me to get my shit together, that crying was for weak people, that she shouldn't be forced to watch my ugly, pained face.

Still, I smile on a daily basis, less now than before, but I still do. I feel joy, I feel pleasure, I seek every opportunity I can to delight in the fact of being alive. And here I approach the topic of today's post. I had been invited to a gathering by a friend I hadn't seen in years. It was actually my idea to get together, as an attempt to restore the bond, and he proposed to meet at a concert he was going to perform at. I love music, so I said to myself why not? let's do it. We agreed on meeting on Friday, to start the weekend in a good mood.

You see, I'm a hypersensitive person. As soon as I walk into a room, my body acts as an antenna and starts picking up EVERY single mood, also the collective mood, the small gestures everyone is making, literally everything that is not being said with words. You can't imagine how tiring it is. It has its upsides: I'm extremely good at making people feel comfortable, and in the business of customer service, it works wonders. That is when I have enough energy. People can be an endless drain. I'm not complaining, it's just who I am and I've learned to sail the ups and downs of it.

When I woke up, I instantly knew it wasn't the right day to expose myself to a lot of noise, a lot of strangers, and a lot of stress. You'd say, "it's just a concert, why stress?". Well, when I actually do something, you can be sure I've done it a hundred times in my head, replayed every scenario, and found the best possible plan to lead to the best outcome. I overthink, overprepare, and overfeel. So, if I was to go out today, by 7 a.m. I still hadn't received confirmation from the friend on where we were going to meet, the hour, etc. Plus, I was going on my own, so if I was to stay out late, I'd have to come home alone and at an unknown hour.

In slightly different conditions, I might have gone out nonetheless. But today, my gut whispered it wasn't right. It said that I didn't have to feel pressured to do it just because it's what others would do. So I decided to stay home and enjoy my space. There will be other concerts, other gatherings, and I'd rather do that kind of stuff when I'm 100% sure I'll have a good time. So, I'm home, about to take a nice, long shower, dress up for myself, make some delicious snacks, and watch a movie. My kind of night, a perfect end for this workweek.

When I think about the concert I've enjoyed the most, I remember one time I went to a small, private, and very intimate show that one of my favorite underground bands was having. I had found out just hours before, it was a free thing and I instantly felt 100% ready to go. My instinct screamed YES. I asked a few people if they'd like to come, but they weren't interested. So I went, alone, and I had the time of my life. To be able to sing with them each song, almost as if we were friends making music in the living room, was an incredible experience. I didn't take any pictures, didn't record it, but the memory is forever printed on my mind. When I relive the moment, I even get goosebumps.

If you have made it this far and can relate to what I've shared, I encourage you to trust your instinct. Finely tune your hearing, and improve the relationship you have with that voice. It often knows what you haven't yet realized.

Tomorrow Saturday is yet another opportunity to delight in the joy of being alive. I'm going to a farmer's market with my grandma for a Christmas sweets tasting, and being surrounded by all the farmers' produce will surely make me feel grounded, and happy. On Sunday, I intend to have an overdue encounter with nature. There, I'll exercise my ability to stay in the present, to truly be there. Here. And right now, I feel as blissful as I can be.

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^{Sources of the images:
📷 by Bob Clark
📷 by Milada Vigerova
📷 by Pierangelo Bettoni
📷 by Derek Sutton}

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^{I'd like to thank you for reading this. I hope my words resonated with you in some way. If they did, or even if they didn't, I'd like to further connect with you, so I invite you to drop a comment and I'll answer it as soon as I can.}