I am made of…

…music.

Tonight I am.

Ups and downs. All the time. I had one very good week. I am not used to it and mentioned it many times. Then came the fall. It always does. Strangely, when it happens, and I try to reach out, no one is there – everyone is busy. Maybe that’s just a subjective feeling; I don’t know.

What I do know is that music is the most soothing thing for me when my mind is acting up.

I went on a date tonight. A movie date to see Bohemian Rhapsody. I grew up with music from Queen, and I know many songs. I read books about Freddie Mercury. Most notably the one by Jim Hutton. I like the band. I do. But I am not a superfan.

Hearing all those amazing songs in a movie theatre tonight was like balm for my soul. Music should always be playing this loud.

Of course, Who Wants to Live Forever made me cry, it always does.

But, the strangest thing happened too. There was something like magic in the air. The film ended, and the credits were rolling. The lights were on, and the exit doors were wide open, but the audience didn’t move. It was as if most people were just enjoying a couple more minutes of great music played loudly. And most people had that smile on their face, the blissful smile that only music or a live show can bring. It was quite extraordinary. And I loved it.

So… Shit mind and mood aside, music made me smile again tonight. It made me light. I know that tomorrow will be different again. I cried a lot these last two days, for no reason. Or seemingly so. I wish I were normal. I wish I didn’t burden people with this; with me. But I do. Because I am made of music. But I am also made of emotions. I am made of all the small pieces that make me whole. (Everyone is, I am not special)

Thank you.

stream of unedited consciousness

Today is tomorrow, agree?

I was wondering, most of my friends these days are real but online. The ones who are most important are the ones I have never pulled into my arms. What if I passed away? What if they did?

I am not suicidal, but I am thinking about accidents or things like that.

Those who follow this blog more closely might have read the name Jamie before.

Jamie was the most fantastic man. His birthday was two days ago, he would have turned 36. He passed away in 2015 from Leukemia. Jamie was my best friend. I only knew him virtually, but he was my best friend indeed. We shared everything. I trusted him, and I believe that he trusted me too. He made me a better person. I like that he keeps popping up in my thoughts almost daily. Music reminds me of him, but also other random things we talked about. When he passed away, it was a mutual friend who told me. That friend was informed by his husband. (No typo. Jamie was gay.) Although I consider Jamie my best friend, I did not know his husband. I remember when Marcus told me about Jamie’s passing. I cried for hours that day. And I felt jealous that Jamie’s husband had not gotten in touch with me personally.

Thinking back at all of this, and thinking about my current situation, I wonder how my friends would be informed. If they would be informed at all. After all, I am not on Facebook anymore. Not having Facebook feels like being alien or invisible. But at least in case of emergency or something similar, everyone would know.

I don’t want to vanish. And one of the worst thoughts for me is to be forgotten. I try to touch people… with my writing, but also with my entire daily behaviour. If I succeed, that is not for me to judge.

I just know that I am as real as I can be. Which can be intense and overwhelming for the people who are close to me.

Compared to other blogs, this one is not frequented at all. A handful of people keep checking in daily. (I see you, and I know who you are. Thank you!!) Also, ever since I have the ‘buy’-button on the blog, I haven’t sold one copy of my book. That’s okay though… I am just curious to know how it works, lol.

One thought after the other. One foot in front of the other.

Mood is still calm and serene. I should be devasted, but I am free instead. And I miss Jamie so so much.

Names…

I have three kids.

My son’s name was found because there were only 3 left on the list:

Olivier

Nicolas

Christopher.

My daughter’s name came to me in a dream. And I woke up and I knew it. There was not one doubt and no arguing.

Giulia

Julie

Julia.

My second daughter’s name was difficult to find. We had a handful of names left. And finally I wrote them on slips of paper and we drew her name out of a hat.

Amalia

Amelia

Emily.

Are names important? My kids wouldn’t be different with different names.

A rose by any other name would still smell like a rose. (Sorry, I don’t know Shakespeare in English, I can’t quote it properly)

My name is Catherine Annette. I don’t know what people think when they read or hear that name. I go by Cathy, haven’t ever known it any other way.

When we read or hear a name, we have an image in our heads. Parents know how that exact thing makes it hard to name the kids.

I am serene and at a good place right now. Yet I often wonder how others perceive me. 💜

I must confess…

…that my loneliness/is killing me now/

Sorry… Britney wanted to sing along.

So… My confession.

Yesterday I listened to many records, and I even wrote about it. It felt so good. I still feel the ripples of the music I heard reverberating in my soul.

But… As much as I praised vinyl, I don’t own many records. They are very expensive, and I made a rule to just invest in vinyl that is special to me.

As for CDs… I own close to 2000 of them now. Of course, they don’t look as good (or special or edgy) on pictures than vinyl does.

I wondered today: who cares? No one does. I mean… If music affects me and you can’t relate to that, then it doesn’t matter on which devices I am listening. Plain and simple, no?

Music is my daily companion. And once in a while, like yesterday, I get the chance to immerse myself in. I hadn’t done that in such a long time, and these hours were precious. Priceless, really. As you probably noticed, I shared poems afterwards. Inspired by the music.

When I was a child, I had a walkman. I found an old radio with chipped plastic corners. Later, I got a stereo (when I was 9). Music was by safe haven ever since I was a child. Lyrics touched me. Made me feel strong. Made me feel weak. Made me cry. Made me laugh. I feel strongly when I listen to music. And I am well aware that most people cannot relate. But it is a part of who I am.

I am not a particularly huge fan of this band or that. I think I’ve grown out of that. But there is one band – Anathema – which I listened to since I was 15. Twenty years. I fall back onto them again and again because their music is like a soundtrack of my life. Their lyrics touched me and still do. It gives me strength. It makes me weak. I saw them three times. Last time was last November, and shortly after their gig, I wrote a post on this very blog. Something personal. (Link to when you click on “post“).

I don’t have many passions in my life. Music is one. (Listening, and I can sing okay.) Writing is the other passion. And often I am not sure if I am any good at it. I believe that I am. But that one (1) star on Goodreads makes me worry. Am I overestimating myself and my skills?

I have a friend who keeps telling me that if I invested in advertisement for my book Unquiet Minds, I could find worldwide fame. I don’t want that. I just want a couple more people to let me know that I touched them. Maybe it is all pretense. Maybe it is all just a pile of shit.

Words are falling out of my fingers, and I cannot stop them. One thought after the next.

Randomness.

By the way… I went to the movies today. I saw a Luxembourgish movie. Superjhemp retörns. Other superheroes are young and handsome and skilled. We have Superjhemp, an average middle-aged man who is working a dull day job. He is soft around the middle and gets his superpower from cheese (Kachkéis – cancoillotte) and beer. He flies with both hands in his pockets and has a fable to fly through closed windows. Overall, he is very Luxembourgish. As so often, this movie was adapted from the comics with the same name. And it was hilarious. I doubt though that non-Luxembourgers will find it funny. But it was.

Ok… So… This escalated quickly. All just to say, that I am an impostor and that I only own (+/-) 30 vinyls.

Thank you for allowing me this space to ramble.

Vote for my book. And buy it. If you want a signed copy, we can make that happen too. Get in touch: catherine.micqu@gmail.com

Thank you.

Cathy

Let this new week begin. 💜

Affirmation 2018

I am who I am because I fought to become this version of myself. My opinions are often not very popular, and my way of viewing people and life is a bit peculiar. But I – like you and everyone reading this and not – I am made of every choice, every thought, every emotion I ever experienced. I am who I am because no one is like me. I am unique. I am awesome. To some I am beautiful. I have flaws, and that’s okay. I am talented in my own style. I am not perfect, and sometimes, I am selfish, but… I am me and I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be seen. I deserve to be here. I am who I am. I am Cathy.

A smile and a half

Two things I read on twitter that made me smile

This:

Gravity is the only thing keeping me here

(Apparently an Italian proverb… But I doubt it)

And this:

I want to be a pineapple. Messing up every dish must be awesome

The first made me smile because it is very poetic in its despair. Could be an Italian proverb, but I honestly don’t think it is.

The second one made me smile because for me, it seems to be true. I don’t like pineapple.

Have a great day…

Tbt

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This was me in 2015… (Pic above) I am not sure if it is true or not, but I think I changed a lot since then. Not only that I aged and that I am wearing my hair shorter and in its natural colour (with the greys on display…), I also lost some weight. Subjectively seen, I think that I also look younger. Though that too might be just my own impression and I leave it to you to judge that.

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Those are just shallow things describing my appearance, though. I changed on the inside too. And that change can be seen in my eyes. Maybe that’s just my imagination, but I am pretty sure it is not. Also, the way I carry myself has changed.

I don’t want to be condescending towards people who don’t work, but work changed me. Personally, I think it changed me because I needed something to change. Work made me become a grown-up. (I was a mom, married, homeowner… But I was not an adult; I didn’t feel like one) Mind you; I was a stay at home mom for eight years, I understand staying home and taking care of the kids. And it is work that is often underrated. I love my kids to bits, but the truth is, I didn’t take care of myself. I neglected housework too. I was not well staying home, and I didn’t know it until it had to change. I was okay with it. In October 2015, I had a huge Telefon bill that I couldn’t explain to my husband (how do you explain that you called (and were called by) an international rockstar and built a deep life-changing connection with him), and I understood that I had to become active to take responsibilities for my actions. I was on the hunt for a job for a year. I didn’t find a job for various reasons (stayed too long at home, wasn’t experienced enough…) Until finally, in October 2016 I got an opportunity to take a job at a nursery. (I am an educator, specialised in toddlers and small children’s education and development.). Suffice to say; it didn’t work out. I am sure it was partly me, but it was partly them too. I didn’t have a chance to prove myself. After only three months I gave up, but I already had a new job by then. The one I am still holding today. This time, I clicked with the team, and although not everything is always easy, I still love to work there. I have one colleague who really brings out the best in me. Sometimes it is as if we are playing tennis, juggling ideas back and forth until they make sense. And that is why I love my job. As I said, she brings out the best in me at work.

It is no secret that these last months have been a real struggle. Last November was like the last nail in my coffin, and I fought until I was not strong enough to fight anymore. I was ready to give up. I am glad that I found some more strength in me.

These days, I am more positive again. Nothing particular happened. Just, one day I looked at myself and discovered that I am actually happy. I have great people in my life. Some are close; others aren’t. Some have been distant satellites for a long while and are a daily fixture in my life now, some just vanished. I have amazing kids (two daughters and a son). And I am a remarkable woman. Simple as that. A year ago, I wouldn’t have said that about myself and meant it. But again, I changed. A lot.

When I look at both pictures above, I think that maybe the Cathy with the purple hair was more innocent. She was less kinky. Fewer ambitions, less complicated, easier to please. The Cathy from the present is a very different woman. More mature. More adventurous. Opinionated. Easier to love. And more confident too.

I would ask you to judge me. But can I take it? What if you prefer young Cathy? I prefer the present version.

💜

I treated myself…

I treated myself to something beautiful and useful. Beautiful too. I like mala beads. Did I mention that they are beautiful? And I admit, I often wonder if they work. When I put the new mala on my left wrist, there was a strange sensation. At first I thought it was because they were cold, coming from the mailbox. But that sensation didn’t go away. Like a vibration. Soothing too. Hard to describe. But not negative.

The stones I am wearing on my wrist now are Smoky Quartz, Larvikite, and (of course) black Onyx.

I order my bracelets online from Tibetan Mala Shop. I found that one shop that I can honestly recommend (and I am usually rather reluctant to recommend anything at all). It’s easy and uncomplicated to order and I have never been disappointed, so far.

Purple background – purple is my favourite colour.

Isn’t it sad that I want to share this with my friends but they wouldn’t care or understand?

It was a tough tough day at work. Holy moly. It would be easier if everyone did their job right. But… I am not here to rant. I am happy to have that job and that I am able to work.

Cathy

Same bracelet on both pictures. Funny how different it looks.

Sunday morning musings

Is life more comfortable for people who believe in a deity? I wonder about it once in a while. A have a very close friend who shares all these sayings about Jesus and God, and I just can’t relate.

Mind you; my upbringing was very religious. I went to church from an early age on; was an altar boy (girl). I sang in a choir. I went to an all-girls private Catholic school.

At one moment, I grew out of religion, I believed. I prayed. But my miracles didn’t come. Not even in disguise. I tried to find God the way I was told to in church and in school. Maybe I was blind? I couldn’t find anything or anyone that guided me or made me feel safer. And so I moved on and went on a quest.

I read Anton Szandor LaVey to rebel. And I found some thoughts that appealed to me in his writings and essays. For a while, the books were like a shield I help up in front of me. “Don’t mess with me; I know satanism.” It kept many people away from me. Add the constant earphones plugged in, and you get why I was an outsider. I didn’t feel the need to fit in. I was superior to them, and more educated too. Because I chose to read whatever I could get my hands on. I didn’t talk unless I had a valid argument to make (or a teacher asked something). I was polite and kind, like I am today, but very distant.

I moved on from the satanism because I didn’t like the angry attitude. I listened to angry music too at that time. Until I discovered how stupid and closed-minded most of those bands were and they kept spewing their ignorance and hate. I am not an angry person. It’s an emotion I am not all too familiar with. I am not a stupid person either. New music found me. Inspiring and beautiful. Positive. For the first time in my life that something positive crossed my path. Astounding that it was music. Then again, it’s not really a surprise. (Not for those who read this blog more often)

On my journey, I discovered Buddhism. And studied it for a while. From everything I tried, this is what is closest to me. But I am not a Buddhist. I learned a lot about how to treat people with kindness, about being grateful, and about taking care of the environment. I don’t meditate anymore. I am too nervous inside to sit still.

Did I ever mention that I cannot sit still? I am told that I exude calm, but I can never sit still. Something is always moving (my legs, my fingers, my mind)

So here I am. Today. Living across from a church without any drive to ever go inside. And I am a bit lost on my way. (Again)

I am wearing onyx beads, for calm. I am wearing my pentagram around my neck to keep evil spirits away. And I am not even that spiritual. Okay, I read my horoscope, and I believe in the power of dreams, as well as in the power of positivity. But I don’t consider myself to be spiritual.

And I wonder… If I believed in God, would it be easier to cope with whatever life throws my way? But I can’t. I can’t believe. My son has a hoodie from the boy scouts. In the logo is a cross. And it doesn’t soothe me at all. It makes me angry… For no real reason. I can acknowledge that being informed about religions is general knowledge, but I can’t have it shoved down our throats. Maybe I am too critical? Maybe my thoughts have never occurred to other people? Maybe I am too complicated and overthinking? Then again, it was the same twenty years ago…

I don’t know where this post leads and I am not expecting answers… It’s just something that comes up in my mind all the time.

Cathy

The most valuable comment I ever wrote…

https://nate.live/the-only-thing-missing-in-my-life/

It is scary to fall apart publicly. It is even scarier to fall apart all alone. But you are not alone. And the darkness and apathy is understood and lived by many. Me included. There are these high highs and the low lows. And all I want is this: if you look at me, please see me. If you see me for the damaged person that I am, please love me. I felt from you words that you feel the same. The outside world can be perfect, but if the inside feels like a storm, the most perfect life becomes dull and blunt. Sometimes, life is overwhelming. Sometimes, all we can do is cry and let the tears wet our cheeks for seemingly no reason. And maybe, maybe it looks as if you aren’t doing anything, as if you aren’t moving. But you are doing a whole lot. You are not giving up. You are light, Nathan. You don’t see it because you are in the dark, but believe me, you are light.
On top of that, you are not missing from your life. This may not be how media or friends or whoever suggests life to be, but sometimes it is like that. Sometimes we fall apart. You are there. I can see you! And I like this vulnerable side of you. There is nothing wrong with it. Fall, Nate… we are there to catch you.

Thank you for your honesty.

I remember reading Nate’s post and falling apart too. November 2017 should have been amazing. It should have been the most precious and extraordinary month of my life. But for reasons that were not in my control, it wasn.’t. And I fell. For months I had been struggling and I had been trying to keep moving. But then came the time and I fell. And no one seemed to see it. Or maybe they did and it didn’t matter? I didn’t matter.

I was giving up. I was ready to give up my life. My poetry book “Quiet Minds” was supposed to be my final mistake and my final goodbye. But when I published that book, I felt something. I felt proud of myself. I loved that side of me – the creative/writing side. And through all the muddled thoughts, I began to see myself. Many days I am still my own worst enemy, but there are also the days when I am my biggest fan.

I am a fan of the comment I wrote and shared above. I am sure that I wasn’t sober when I wrote it, but I can assure you, my words are my truth.