Cats Doing What They Do Best

Felt like writing a post. Wasn’t sure what to write (story of my life *cough* NaNoWriMo *cough*).

Scrolled through my Google Reader for a bit, and I came across one of my favourite Tumblrs, and thought, why not finish the short week with some cats:

Cats Being Dicks

And to finish:

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There was another .gif but it was broken for some reason when I uploaded it. It’s worth the lols, so here’s the link instead.

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The Internets: It’s for cats & porn

 

Stronger Than I Think

Gah!! The image link is broken. Sorry folks, pretty sure it’s gone forever. The post still makes general sense though, I just can’t provide the source of the inspiration.

After this post on Monday, I had an interesting conversation with @_HannahTweets_:

Note: You read this from bottom to top, in case you are unfamiliar with Twitter

This got me thinking. One of the issues stemming from my fight with depression is that I care way too much about what others may think of me. Compare this to the way I present myself to the world, and there’s a giant contradiction. I stand staunchly by my beliefs, though not completely blindly, and try to help others become aware of the vast number of social problems that plague this planet. The way I dress, my hair, my piercings and tattoos are all a giant shout out to the world on behalf of my own self identity. Almost begging (for lack of a better word) for others to take notice.

And yet, in my dark and uncertain times I constantly worry about what others must be thinking about me, the anxiety completely taking over. I mean, of course they must be judging me, I don’t really give them much of a choice.

Surprisingly, I almost never worry what others may think of my weight. Is this because I am always seeing other people who are a lot larger than me? Perhaps.

It doesn’t really make sense how I can be confident, while at the same time have this doubt swimming around inside of me. Though this doubt does seem to filter through to my relationships with others. I struggle to make and retain friends. Maybe this is due to the combined effect of both the confidence and the doubt.

Dealing with this strange combination (I think it’s strange, though it’s probably much more common than I realize) is much easier in the wide world of the Internets. There’s a much larger pool of people from which to make contact with, making it more likely to find others who think and feel about things the same way you do. It’s because of the internet that I became aware of my interests in women’s rights, queer rights, human rights, fat acceptance, sex-positivity etc, and it’s through the internet that I was able to find others like me.

I think as I’m getting older, becoming more in tune with my own self, my confidence will out shine the doubt more and more. In the meantime, I’m going to fake it ’til I make it, belief is half the battle after all.