Liv Lauren

psychology student | thinker | creator

[livlaurren]

Where are the corners of my mind? An endless void, my internal universe.

Paleokastritsa, Corfu, Greece — July 2023.

[livlaurren]

Let It Go: Where Are The Corners Of My Mind?

I often lose myself in the depths of my mind’s abyss. Surrendering to hours of cloud-watching or wall-staring while little lightning bugs flicker in and out, like sunshine peering through clouds on a dark stormy day. The bugs tirelessly light up my dreams, my fears, and my emotions, each capturing my attention for a fleeting moment before switching off and igniting another thought.

How do they start, and where do they stop? Where are the corners of my mind?

There is something about the vastness of the universe that scares me, an ever-expanding monster threatening our entire existence, and yet, it fills me with intrigue. It is this same feeling I have for the monstrous eternity of the mind, it lies dormant, deep within my chest, forever tugging at my crevices. I am glad for its endlessness. Though overwhelming at times, often bringing distress or tears (I have learnt to be less inclined towards pushing daggers deeper into my chest), I still manage to find myself oddly comforted by the caressings of my chaotic uncertainties, I enjoy the emotional complexities of the wanderings of my mind. An internal-galactic explorer, you might say.

One thought I keep wandering upon lately, revolves around emotional stickiness. Those honeyed fingers clinging to memories from the past, the thoughts and feelings that clutch onto us and refuse to let go no matter how hard we shake. These moments were people lean on the advice of ‘letting it go’. How many times have you heard that term, or even said it to someone else? I feel like I am often prompting myself or others towards more positive growth-styled mindsets by recommending to ‘just let things go’ without ever considering what the term truly requires. How do we let go? How can we actively free ourselves from these sticky thoughts?

Conversations between my counsellor and I often come full circle to arrive at the topic of death. One notion from my counsellor that particularly resonates with me is the idea that we all experience little deaths in our lives every day. Partaking in the act of letting go seems to be opting into one of these little deaths. To ‘let go’ is to negate something from our lives, a removal that requires a change that might be outside of our comfort zone, and one that may leave us with a hole that cannot be filled in the same way again. When you think about it, letting go can be a terrifying act, even when it allows our freedom.

I am sure you have heard of the five stages of grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross pioneered this concept in 1969, describing their use as defence mechanisms, serving to protect ourselves against the difficult realities of coping with loss. By seeing acts of letting go as small deaths, we can apply Kübler-Ross’ model to help us recognise our current state of grieving, deepen our self-reflection, widen our self-knowledge, and allow ourselves to seek and provide the support we need to move forward. It is important to note that these stages are not necessarily experienced in any particular order, and that one may bounce back and forth between them, or experience none of them at all.

Denial:

‘This is not happening.’

Anger:

‘Why me?’

Bargaining:

‘If I am better, my situation will change.’

Depression:

Hopelessness, sadness.

Acceptance:

Regaining your power, control, and being at peace.

So, what are you stuck with right now, what is your mind naggingly adhered to, and which stage do you feel you are at?

Open up to vulnerable self-reflection, an uncomfortable place where we step outside our ego and observe. Set aside some time to think without judgement, and practice mindfulness. Perhaps we could write, draw, or meditate, but utilise anything that assists in opening our minds up to gentle reflection. Remove critique, judgment, and comparison. Allow openness to change, and lean towards it, growing into evolving the self. Flow into this entirely new environment. Be an active participant in your own life.

Learn to love yourself again. Remind yourself of your strength, that you are not a static being, we ebb and flow, and are capable of repair. Although this may be heavier, harder, and more painful, we are built to endure it. Our minds are great and powerful, and we can channel this towards our benefit. Trust yourself to your core. Regain control through acceptance of life’s endless chaos.

The mind can hold us down, confuse us, and render us powerless. Yet, it can free us of its very own confines. What we need to do to grow is practice observing our inner workings, be observant, reflective, and learn.

Where are the corners of our minds?

Our mind is an open field, a bottomless canyon. It holds the mysteries beyond the ocean floor and above the clouded skies. It is endless, vast, infinite. The deeper we explore it, the more incredible destinations we find.

[livlaurren]

Each flower is a life. A struggle as the Earth pulls them down, the winds batter them, and the weeds infiltrate. But still, they grow, and still, they blossom.

Rovaniemi, Finland — October, 2012.

[livlaurren]

Growing Pains

Is a flower apprehensive to grow taller? Does it struggle as it blooms into a form we marvel at? If flowers can feel, do they feel the pull of Earth’s gravity tugging with immense strength at their fragile roots as they stretch themselves upwards towards the sun?

I thought by 30 years old, I would stop having growing pains. Not the slow aches children get as their bodies blossom, their muscles straining as they elongate, reaching for bigger and better things as they start filling out. The growing pains I experience exist uncomfortably within my mind.

I often struggle with the process of growing. Those lightbulb moments that allowed my self-expansion and change mostly evolved from my discomfort. The tears I have released from built-up anxiety, a pressure chamber deep within my chest exploding as I screamed into my pillow, seeking a way out. The kilometres I have paced through bedrooms and parks, back and forth as my mind darted like a pinball machine. The nails I have torn off, the pillows I have hugged, the blankets that have melted into my skin as I cocooned myself into a shield from the outside world. These moments, the worst moments, the soaked and the dry, have gifted me with some of the greatest lessons of my life.

I paid for my growth with these moments of discomfort, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This realisation, learning that my change and growth come from these sometimes painful moments of sitting in life’s uneasiness, has helped make these times less heavy. It has become much less of a burden for me to exist in such uncomfortable places because I have learnt to remind myself that I am strong as a student of life’s lessons.

That being said, it still can be hard. I continue to have those moments where my best is curling up in a ball in bed, crying my little heart out, eating a block of chocolate, and listening to Radiohead on repeat.

And I like that I do that.

Because it is my comfort through these growing pains.

Kindest, Liv.

[livlaurren]

How often have we paid attention to a grain of sand? This grain that makes up the beach. This grain that is perfect and part of something incredible.

Yasawa Island Beach, Fiji — October 2016.

[livlaurren]

Self-Acceptance Grows From Messiness

Many of us can relate to those gut-wrenching, jittery moments where we work ourselves into a self-reflective panic, wondering whether we overtook the conversation at breakfast with friends, or if we were too harsh in asserting our boundaries. Perhaps even that panging feeling of guilt we feel, buried deep down in the pits of our stomachs, as we figure out how to pluck up the courage to apologise for being a complete, emotional, exploding mess. All of us who have been through these kinds of moments — and yes, absolutely myself included — know that true self-acceptance isn’t easy.

How often have we been advised to ‘accept ourselves just as we are’, and how often have we taken that to mean ‘accept the good bits, but work ourselves tirelessly to the bone fixing all of our bad bits’? The amount of pop psychology I have seen on social media preaching the conflictual message to ‘accept ourselves as wholly complex individuals, but just be better and do better’ is getting a little ridiculous and, to be honest, confusing.

So let’s break it down. Society wants and expects us to be perfect versions of ourselves who do no wrong? Well, surprise surprise society, like fetch, that is never going to happen. Perfection is often considered a conceptual ideal, something we strive to become. However, to me, perfection already exists. It lives inside the messy, imperfect, raw, and beautiful gift that life has given us. Let’s flashback to Alexander Pope’s iconique quote, ‘to err is human; to forgive, divine.’ Now, this is more like something we can plant our seeds of self-acceptance in.

Humans are perfect within our imperfections. We are all unique, incredible, complex messes! How seriously amazing is that? We say things we regret, miss opportunities, are resilient and bounce back from hardships. We gather together to work towards crafting a welcoming society, or sometimes we propel ourselves forward without a care in the world like a selfish steam train. We each are human, we each hold as much importance as each other, and we each make mistakes and straight-up shit choices sometimes.

And that is so damn okay.

Sometimes, self-acceptance requires forgiveness for us to immerse ourselves within it entirely. We may need to forgive ourselves for hurting someone, for being too hard on ourselves or others, or even forgive someone or something else for hurting us. Forgiveness is hard. It takes time, patience, and vulnerability. But it is a skill we can learn, practice, and improve upon. Forgiveness, instead of perfection, is what I believe we should be striving toward.

Self-reflection is still important. Doing the work is still important. But these tools aren’t to become a better version of yourself. You are already perfect. These tools are here for us, like a ladder, to help our already wonderful selves reach more stable positions in life, where self-acceptance of our flaws and mistakes can be better achieved.

So maybe we could root ourselves in our mess. We could try listening to it, forgiving ourselves for it, and learning from it. Welcome the mess as a natural part of our lives as we grow to become more self-accepting people.

Kindest, Liv.

[livlaurren]

Spend as long or as little as you feel, with whichever questions you feel, when you're feeling up to it. :) Kindest, Liv.

[livlaurren]

You are the warmth on my face, the sweat between my palms, the parting of my lips, and the butterflies in my stomach. You are a welcome guest, but I am my own home.

La Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Spain - July 2023.

[livlaurren]

The Consistency of Being Alone

Alone.

Separation, detachment, loneliness, abandonment, disturbance. Singular, individual, unequalled, unique, wholeness, peace.

A concept encompassing and expanding beyond both the physical and mindful realms. A balance of positive and negative, a trigger of awareness and stability, and at the same time, a harrowing place of spiralling depths.

Isn't it just incredible how much power one state can hold?

But what does it mean to be alone?

Is it the emotional elusion experienced when you feel secluded in a room full of people? Is it the feeling of your feet flat on the cold hardwood floor as you're sat at the end of your bed contemplating your life's entirety? Is aloneness rooted within the physical and emotional senses of separation and detachment - whether harmonious or disruptive - or does it transcend our consciousness into fields of the metaphysical? A destined activation from the moment we become severed from our mother's womb?

There is an existential concept that the human being is fundamentally alone, which is an ever so slightly daunting idea when we remember that - according to the laws of physics - one can never truly even touch anything... Given the consistency of our isolation, it seems 'aloneness' may be somewhat innate to the human experience. 

In this thought, I was propelled into becoming riddled with existential anxiety. If you're feeling the same, you're not alone! Well, you are, but we're all alone together. :)

I help myself out of it by considering aloneness a flow state. It is always there, existing in the background, but sometimes it floods. It can flood positively, regenerating and boosting feelings of individuality and wholeness. Or, it floods negatively, isolating and depressing my mood, challenging my identity and place in society. Regardless of the atmosphere it brings, it always serves as a window deep into myself, into what I need to restore my holistic balance. Being alone is an ongoing journey to a deeper understanding of myself and my needs. It teaches me how to better accept my moments of imbalance, remembering that acceptance is not an end goal but a path.

So aloneness, in its consistency, is beneficial. We can enjoy it or let it swallow us whole. But either way, if we pay attention to it, and stay curious about it, we can learn a lot about ourselves from it.

Just something to think about...

Kindest, Liv.

[livlaurren]

A life that continues to grow among the rotted cracks, the ashy abyss, and the ended wells, is often the most beautiful and spectacular.

Paleokastritsa, Corfu, Greece - August 2023.

[livlaurren]

Hey, Hello, Hiya

Allo allo, my sweets! It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Liv, a 30-year-old psychology student smack bang in the middle of my degree. But more than that, I am a deep thinker, an emotional jellybean, an imperfect human mess, an imaginative and passionate girl trying - like everyone - to figure all of this shit out.

I have overcome many mental health struggles throughout my life. At different moments, I have been diagnosed (and misdiagnosed) with depression, anxiety, OCD, bipolar, BPD, and C-PTSD to find that my struggles are what make me human. Although I am no longer considered 'unwell', I do still have occasional battles with mild OCD, anxiety, and - the cherry on top - existential dread. I have taken medicines, been hospitalised, practised meditation, committed to therapy, filled out worksheets, and finally found refuge within myself. My trauma does not define me, but my trauma has led to the identification of my true strengths. It has led me to my broadened perspectives, allowed my softening vulnerability, and brought me a willingness to continue growing. To somehow survive and live among life's indecisive grey shadows.

Much of my current perspective grounds itself within existential, gestalt, and person-centred theories. The constants for me are life, death, and anxiety. Our unique expansion and growth lie within learning to accept these often overwhelming concepts and simultaneously learning to accept that we may never fully accept or understand them -- living among the black, the white, and the grey.

Don't worry, though; I am not a pessimist! I am, by nature, a kooky lil nihilistic optimist. I believe in people's innate goodness and finding joy by choosing our own meaning of life.

My aim here is to gather a positive mental health community and create a space to explore life, death, anxiety, and all that exists (or doesn't) in between. I'll be drawing from my thoughts, academic research, pop culture, social currency and history, and your ideas and comments to broaden our perspectives and maybe provide a helping hand out of the slumps we might end up in. I also have a background as an artist and would love to incorporate some collaborative, communal art zines and the like in the future.

If this sounds like your bag, baby, follow along for the ride! Send through an ask with comments, ideas, suggestions, or anything if you wish. Otherwise, read along, engage if and when you feel like it, and let's get this space open and thriving.

I am so looking forward to exploring and growing through the tough stuff together.

Kindest, Liv.