The way I look

Well, it's starting to show that all I do is eat and sleep now. These past couple of weeks I've gained 5 kg, at least the last time I checked. I've probably gained more, and it's not hard to see. I had to laugh when I looked myself in the mirror yesterday. I look like I'm pregnant.

I've gotten a few comments, but I don't really care. I've never been one to care all that much about my weight, or how I look. All around me I hear people complaining about them being fat and how they need to go on diets, and I just stand there and don't really know what to say to them all when they tell me. I've never been on a diet. Not even in that period some years back when I was actually pretty fat and everyone told me I HAD to go on a diet. I didn't care.

People tell me they envy that about me; how I can be so sure of myself and be happy about the way I look. That's probably because I'm not that honest about it. It's not that I don't care. It's just that I can't care. If I care, it'll kill me. It'll drive me insane. So it's better not to care.

Sure, the honest truth is that I don't think being overweight is ugly. And truth be told, what everyone else considers to be overweight is what I consider to be average. It annoys me how everyone use those superskinny supermodels as the image of perfect weight. It's ridicules. That's not even pretty, cause they look like they've been starved, so comparing people to them is an insult to normal and healthy people. But yeah, most of my friends who claim to be fat are average in my eyes. And I actually think it's prettier to have a little extra, so people considered to be overweight look beautiful in my eyes. But that's my opinion. So I don't mind it when I gain weight. Besides, I'm far too lazy to do anything about it anyway, so why bother freaking out about gaining weight.

No, when I say I don't care about the way I look, it's not my weight I think about. It's generally my appearance. I know I'm not pretty. I've always known. I've never, in my entire life, considered myself to be a pretty girl. I am, at best, average. Sure, I'm not ugly either, that I know, but I'm not pretty. That's something I had to accept early on in life, and learn to live with. So I don't really care about how I look. I make up for it in other ways, mainly through my personality. That's how I appear attractive and charming. And I dress to express how I am on the inside, to make people look passed how I look on the outside. So, by combining my personality with the way I dress and do my makeup and hair, I manage to appear pretty and attractive, instead of plain and boring.

Sure, yeah, there's a part of me that wish I could be really beautiful, in a way that takes people's breath away, but that's just that silly part of me that is starved on love and attention, so I pay it little mind. I mean, every girl wants to be beautiful. That's just normal. But I've stopped hating myself for not being pretty. I'm okay with being average. The upside of it is that I am in the middle, in that area of gray. Which means I can, through different means, tip either way towards both black and white. I can appear to be both ugly, as well as pretty, just by using the right makeup and charms, among other things. So yeah, it's not that bad, being average.

Also, I always keep in mind that we all have different taste. One day I'll meet someone who thinks I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, and I'll end up taking their breath away, simply because I fit their taste. And I look forward to that moment, with every single part of me. It'll be a moment worth waiting for.

And until then, I'll keep expressing who I am on the inside through the way I act and the way I dress. I may not be pretty, but I have my ways of making people think that I am. And that's good enough for me.

Sorry, no entry today

Yeah. To continue where I left off in my last entry; I'm fucking exhausted. To the point where I want to take a small vacation and just go somewhere else for a couple of days. Doesn't even matter where, as long as it's anywhere but here.

Right now, I'm too exhausted to even bother with typing up a proper entry for the last week. I haven't really done anything interesting lately anyway, besides eating and sleeping. That's just about what my life has been reduced to. So, yeah.

I think I need a really loooong rest, so I can get back into business again.

Exhausted

I am absolutely exhausted. I think that's the right word I can use to describe it. I'm not tired or sleepy, like how you get when you've done lots of things or haven't slept enough. I'm just completely drained. And I have no idea why.

This has been going on for about or month or so now, and I find it extremely weird. I'm familiar with this kind of lack of energy, but it's something I used to struggle with back when I was heavily depressed. If you've had even a mild depression, then you probably know what I'm talking about. You're tired all the time, despite sleeping a lot and not doing much, and just getting out of bed seems like the hardest thing ever. I've always been fond of sleeping, but I could sleep for days back when I was depressed, and still be too tired to do anything. And that's what I'm dealing with now.

The problem is that I'm not depressed. Quite the opposite, actually, cause I am happy for the first time ever, and things are going great! So why I'm exhausted in that depressed kind of way is just beyond me. Everything makes me tired, which is kind of frustrating. Just going to town with mum is enough to send me into a coma when I get home, and these past weekends I've had to try and sneak home early when I've been out cause I just want to go home and go to sleep.

I had that problem yesterday as well, cause I had been tired all day, and I originally planned to just stay home and relax and go to bed early. But my lovely crew of friends wanted me to come out with them, so I caved and did. I had fun though! So I don't regret it. But I was so tired that I wanted to leave before they closed, and I almost had to plead with people to have them let me leave. And when I came home, a friend of mine was sleeping outside my door.. Now, he's one of my best friends, and I love him to death, and normally he's no trouble for me. He's a stubborn fuck, but I don't mind arguing with him on a normal day. Whenever he's out, he tends to walk home, no matter how drunk he is, and even though he always makes it home (he's got a skill for that), I always worry. So, normally I'll force him to get his ass on the couch and stay the night until he's sobered up. But, yesterday I was so exhausted that I didn't have the energy for that. I just let him leave. I felt bad, but I honstly was too exhausted to deal with him, or anything else for that matter. I crawled right into bed and called a friend of ours and told her what was going on, so that she'd maybe try and take care of him. Thank heavens for good friends.

But, yeah, this is becoming a rather serious problem for me, cause being this exhausted all the time is starting to seriously interfere with my life. I can't go out and have fun all night like I want to, I can't be there for my friends when they need me, I can't get things done around me. Hell, I can hardly make it out of bed in the morning! So, I'm considering trying to get an appointment to the doctor next week, to get a proper checkup and see if we can figure out why I'm so exhausted. Maybe it's just some vitamine shortage that can easily be fixed by taking vitamins? Or of it's something psychological, then I can at least try and sit down and figure out what's going on in my head and maybe fix things that way.


I wonder if it's related to my hunger problem? Cause I am hungry all the time as well. And I mean all the time. I eat a big dinner, and half an hour later I'm hungry again. If anyone talks about food near me, I get hungry. If I smell food I get hungry. I'm always hungry! It's super-annoying, cause having to make dinner every hour or so is tiresome and expensive.

My body is definitely going haywire. And the chaotic and strange dreams I've been having lately tells me that my head is just as bad. Seriously, what is going on with me? I've been like this for weeks now! I can feel that something's happening inside me, but I have no idea what.


Maybe it's just springtime affecting me? Or is it something else...?
To be honest, I haven't the slightest idea.

I love to love

Love is a difficult subject, and one I've never really had much luck with. I know a lot about it, though, cause I've seen pretty much the entire spectre of love. I've experienced it all. I've experienced the love between siblings, the love one feel for one's parents, the love between friends, the simple love you feel when you've got a crush on someone, the deep love that makes you tie yourself to another person for all eternity, the kind of love that fades away after a while, the love that can only be killed by the cruelest things, and the deepest kind of love that'll never fade nor die no matter what happens. I've seen and experienced it all. The only kind of love I can't claim to have experienced is the kind of love a parent feels for its child, but that is something I'm sure I'll get to feel the day I become a mother myself.

All in all, I'm pretty high level when it comes to different kinds of love.

But my personal luck with it is all but pleasant. I've gone through a lot of pain when it comes to love, though nothing could ever compare to the pain of trying to erase 15 years of love after having your heart broken for the nth time. I say a lot of cruel things about my ex, but it can't cover up the fact that she's been the love of my life for 15 years, and I'll never be able to kill those feelings. I'll always love her. Though I'll never forgive her, or trust her, ever again, I'll always love her.

I am a being fueled by love. At times I might claim to hate it, because love has caused me so much pain, but in the end it is the one thing I cannot go without. It's my source of life and energy. It's what keeps me going, and without it I would die. I love with all my being, always have and always will, and now I am finally learning to accept that. Love isn't just a simple thing in my heart. It is all that I am. And there is no limit to how much and how deep I am capable of loving. My love moves beyond boundaries.

I use the word "love" often, and always with deep meaning.

It's not easy, however, to love the way that I love. At times I've had to hide it, and most of my life I've denied the intense love that I carry. More often than not, it complicates things, and so many misunderstand it. They misunderstand my love. And because of that, I have so often tried to put away my love and pretend that it's not there. I've denied the very being that I am.

But why? What can I possibly gain by denying who and what I am? That is probably the number one question I've been asking myself this past half year or so. All my life, I've done nothing but hide or deny who I am, and I haven't gained anything from doing so. I see that now, and thankfully I don't think it's too late to remedy the hurt I've caused myself. While slowly learning to see who I am, and accept that person, I am also starting to see how much love I am capable of carrying. It's only recently that it has become clear to me, and at this very moment I have come as far as to accept it. And be proud of it.

I am proud of how much love there is within me. How I can enjoy love the way that I do. And how I can live with love as a source of life. Just watching people in love is enough to refill my energy and keep me going, and that is something I take pride in. Love is my fuel. And I love it.

I love to love.

Evolving

I'm a bit late with my update today, but I've been with my family since yesterday. It's my mum's birthday today, so the rest of the world just kind of blurred away from me. I had a great time, and I hope mum did too.

I have to admit that I've been tinking of my blog these past two days, wondering what to write. It's not that I don't have anything to write about, but rather that it's difficult to form my thoughts into words. Words that'll make any sense to anyone not living inside my head. Needless to say, there's a lot going on in there. Not surprising or new, that, but... I don't know. It's a bit of a chaos, and I'm not sure how to bring some order to it.

I'm slightly worried about my younger brother, cause he seems to be having a lot to deal with. A part of me want to do something about it, but there's another part that reminds me what it's like, and that nothing I say or do will really make much of a difference. If the troubles are indeed real, and not something he is imagining because he's just being a typical fourteen-year-old, then he has to sort them out himself. I know, because all the problems I've had all my life could never be fixed by anyone around me. They all tried helping, but nothing mattered in the end. I was the only one who could fix my broken self, which I am still trying to do. So, yeah, he just needs to figure things out, and me bugging him will only make matters worse. But I'm hoping he's just being a teenager.

I'm also worried about both of my younger sisters, for different reasons. One of them because of her health and her apparent love troubles, and the other because of the apparent issues she's having with her own self. I wish there were something I could do to help them both, but in the end I come up short. And I tell myself that I can't really do anything than just be here if they come to me for help. And when/if they do, I'll do my best to support them in any way I can. Give them advice if that's what they need, or a shoulder to cry on if they need that instead, or both. Or something entirely different. I guess I just have to wait and see, and pray that they know they can lean on me if they need to.

I love my siblings dearly, and I will always do my best to help them.

I spend a lot of time worrying about everyone around me that I love and care about, and even a small amount of time worrying about those who don't really deserve that kind of attention from me. Even though I promised myself I'd be selfish this year, and worry only about myself. I suppose that's impossible for me to do. I care too much. But, that's a part of who I am. I just need to accept that.

I do worry about myself as well. I've gotten better at that, which I suppose is a good thing considering that I've never really cared about myself at all. Maybe that's one of the reasons for why I've never really managed to find myself beneath the layers of masks? I didn't care enough. I was too busy living for everyone else, and caring about them, that I forgot myself. I forgot to find me.

I suppose that makes kind of sense.

Well, when we're in on the subject of me, I still can't really seem to figure out what's going on with me these days. Something inside me is changing, that much I have realized, and I hope it's a good change. It kind of feels like it, so I'm sticking to that hope. I do notice how much I've changed these past months. It's actually pretty amazing, when you really know me.

I smile more. Honest smiles, and not fake ones. And I laugh more. I'm positive and cheerful, and I don't worry as much as I used to. These past months, I've grown happier than I've ever been before. I'm not sure how that has happened, but it has. It must've been a slow change, really, cause I've only recently taken notice of it. Like, the last week kind of recent. But, yeah, I'm happier, somehow. And I enjoy life. I never really used to, before. Life was... A burden to me. I only lived because of everyone else, and not for my own sake, and I felt trapped in that masked cage. I didn't live, but I couldn't die either. My life has been a nightmare, for as long as I can remember. And now... It's like I'm finally waking up.

I honestly feel that life is worth living, and that everything will be okay. I'm protected, and loved, and even though I'll still encounter bad things and bad periods, I'll survive that. And, most importantly, I'm not alone anymore. I have this new protector of mine, and I know that it is someone that will never leave my side no matter what. It doesn't matter that this is someone I can't see or touch, cause the thing that does matter is that this person loves me and is here to protect me. And that makes me feel safe.

This year... It's a protective sphere, surrounding me, and allowing me to grow and "evolve" and become stronger. When I emerge from it, I will have become a different person. I'll be the one I was always supposed to be, free of masks and chains holding me down, and I will have found my rightful place in the world.

I''m not afraid anymore.

I have nothing interesting to write

Best blog title ever, that.

But it's true, unfortunately. I really have nothing to write about, and a part of me considered not updating the blog this week at all. But, since I have promised myself that I'd do updates every week, I figured I at least could write that I had nothing to write, right? I am such a genius.

I am at a standstill at the moment. Sure, lots of things are going on around me, but that's not really important right now. Something's going on with me. I'm not sure what, but it's not something insignificant. Even my physical body is reacting to it, and is causing me a lot of trouble. Not even gonna mention what my mentality is doing as a reaction to it. But something's going on, and until I know what that is, I really don't have anything to write when it comes to updates. I just need to wait and see where this is going.

All I know is that if this continues like this, then I'll be having a pretty interesting week. I'm hoping it'll at least give me something interesting to write about in my next update.

You're in my world now, bitch!

Have I ever told you of my world? Or, more importantly, have I told you of the importance of my world? Probably not.. I tell many of my world, but the importance of it is something I even tend to forget myself. I constantly need to remind myself of it. Which is what I am working on these days.

My world... It's were I grew up. And while I was living behind my masks in the real world, the real me grew and developed within my world, and become the one I truly am deep down inside. It's that world that has kept me alive, and I owe it everything. Without it, I am nothing. Without it, I am not ME. I am a part of that world, just like that world is a part of me, and you can never have one without the other. That is simply the plain truth.


I call it "my world", but it is only because it is my home. The world isn't mine, as it is not something anyone can own. It just is. I write about it, draw things and people from it, and talk about it. But I do not own it. And I did not create it. No matter what people might say or think, this world is not my creation. It has always been there, and I just simply learned to "connect" with it. I am its medium, and I use myself to tell its story. But I did not create it.

This world is everything. And I would give my life for it.

It started when I was little. I didn't really have many friends, and I was often abandoned. I don't remember much of my childhood, but what I do remember is the loneliness. And the feeling of not being loved. And then she lighted up my life. I don't know when she first appeared before me, but according to my mother I have been talking about her ever since I first learned to talk. I think she might've been there, by my side, all my life. Since my birth. And she stayed with me, when everyone else left, and protected me. It didn't matter that no one else could see her, and that they all giggled at me and my "imaginary friend" and how "overactive" my imagination was, cause I had her. I had Elizabeth.

Elizabeth told me things. She told me of the world that was my true home, and how things were there. She inspired me to draw and write, and act (I loved acting as a kid) and dance, and to submerge myself in the world of gaming. She always encouraged me, whenever I turned to that one specific spot within my mind where I could "connect" with that world she spoke of, and acted as my guide. And the more I connected with it, the more I saw of it. The more information I was given about it. And the moment I closed the door to my room after a day of living behind masks in front of others, I opened up the gates to that world and lived freely as myself. I was home.

As the years passed, and I grew older, I learned to be more careful with letting people know the things I knew. I denied my connection, and stopped talking about my world, and about Elizabeth. I realized that people expected me to "grow up" and leave such "childish" things behind. And so I pretended that I did, and Elizabeth became harder for me to see and communicate with. It was painful, but chained to my masks I had no other choice.
Then I met the girl that became the source of my pain and my happiness, and it turned out that she was the same. She had that connection I had, and could see into that world, and I finally found someone I could share it with. We shared worlds between us... Literally. Me with my guide, Elizabeth, by my side, and her with her guide by her side, we explored that world and met new people in it. We were unstoppable. And I learned to love and adore her, and eventually become obsessed with her. She was the only person who could understand what it was like, seeing the things I saw, and knowing the things I knew. How could I not love her? And for 15 years, that's what I did. I loved her with all my being, and I loved her connection and the things and people she introduced me to, and I learned to depend on it all. I came to a point where I honestly thought I could not live without it.

Needless to say, she turned her back on me, and everything we had together. Our connection, our world, our love. But, I've already ranted on about her in a previous entry, that ex-traterrestrial girlfriend of mine. And this entry is not about her. So, I'm gonna leave it at that, when it comes to her.


Several years ago, after moving away from my home town, I met people who introduced me to the world of old school roleplaying, and I started playing Dungeons and Dragons. It was a whole new world of possibilities, and I immediately started writing and drawing on a project I am still working on to this day. My world, my home... What better way to introduce others to it, than by creating a roleplay out of it? A perfect plan, that, and one I still cling to. Of course, my real dream now is to make a mmorpg, but it's a work in progress.

Either way, what I want is for others to see. And to know. Because I still see them. Elizabeth, and the other people she introduced me to, are still by my side. Sure, I refer to them as my "characters" when I talk of them, but the truth is that they are so much more. I see them, and I talk to them, and without them I would not be alive. I owe them my life.

You can not imagine, what it is like, standing on that edge, ready to jump, unless you've been there yourself. The pain inside you is just too much, and you're too tired of fighting it. You finally come to a point where giving up is the only thing you're able to do. And you accept that this is the end of you, and your life. You're ready to die.

I've been there... Oh, I've been there so many times, you have no idea.
No one knows how many times you've all been close to losing me. Forever.
And how close it's truly been.

At that point, that small percentage of a second, right before I would end it all, she stood there. And time stopped. Looking into her eyes, the eyes of the one person who has been with me all my life, protecting me and guiding me, while standing on that edge, is something I will never be able to describe. And her words... "Without you, I am not. Without you, we will all be forgotten. If you don't tell our story, who will?" And in that second, she stopped me. She saved my life.

Whenever I was back on that edge, she'd repeat those words. And stop me. Because, deep inside I knew she was right. If I died, no one would tell the story of the people only I could communicate with. No one would even know they existed. Death just simply isn't an option for me. At least not until the world knows. Not until they all see what I see, and know what I know. Then, maybe, death can become an option.

So, you see, when I tell people that my world and my "characters" mean everything to me, and that I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for them, then I mean it quite literally.


Today I speak losely of my world and my "characters" and how I obsess over it and work on it. I can tell people many things about that world, and the people in it, when they ask me about it. But never, not even once, do I tell them the truth of it. I don't tell them that these "characters" are my closest friends and my family, and I talk to them almost daily - when they have the time to visit me. I don't tell them that this "imaginary" world I have "created" is a real place I connect to and receive information about just so I can write it all down and share it with the world. I don't tell them about how that world, and the people in it, have saved my life many times. And I don't tell them that the reason for why I don't give my heart to anyone is that my heart have already been given away...

You've seen me "talking to myself" a couple of times, perhaps? Maybe you've heard me laugh about something funny and tell you that it was an inside thing you wouldn't understand? Or, maybe you've even experienced me suddenly "changing my personality" completely out of the blue? Of course. That is the only thing I let you see. Everything else, I hide. Along with the truth.



One day, maybe, I'll have the courage to show the world the truth. One day, I might be able to walk freely outside, conversing with my friends, without fearing what others will think of me. One day, I pray, the world will know who I am.

Social life

My Sundays are slowly disappearing into a haze of hungoverness. Hehe, totally my own fault, and definitely worth it though, I'll admit that. I have so much fun when I'm out drinking with my friends, and it makes me so happy that I've finally gotten to a point in my life where I can actually do something like that. About damn time, right?

I have to admit that I haven't really been looking into the whole mask issue, cause I mostly just want to ignore they even exist. As soon as I got back into the saddle, and felt better about things, I turned my back on the whole fact that I had been down at all, and just ignored it. Not really a good thing, I know, but having to sit down and think about all the things that have caused me trouble in my life and have brought me down is just really depressing. I did, actually, write quite the entry in my main blog, which I am really proud of! I wrote quite honestly about how down I've been, and how that changed, and encouraged people to tell the world to fuck off and just be themselves. I suppose I really did go in on why I've been locked behind these masks all my life, since I wrote that entry.

I don't usually write so openly about things like that in that blog, and I especially don't drag out specific people or incidents in there, cause I post it publicly on my Facebook and don't want to offend anyone. But this time I did. Not really sure what caused me to do so, but I'm really glad that I wrote that. It is without a doubt the best entry I've ever written, in any of my blogs. And it was an honest entry.

I've been trapped behind masks, to please the world. And I lost myself because of it.
So now, I work to mend the wounds the masks left on me.

It's a slow process. But I'm getting there.



Another thing I've had on my mind the last week is my social life. I mean, just the fact that I have one is absolutely amazing, considering that I've always had trouble with it! When my ex was a part of my life, all of my attention was always on her, and the rest of the world was put on hold, so beside her I had no social life. In the periods where I lived with her, I didn't even have a social life online, cause I was too busy with her to find the time to go online. Which was ridicules of me. I pretty much threw my life away like that.

But, putting her and my life with her aside, my social life have always been a bit on and off. In large periods of my life I've had a social fear that have paralyzed me. Because of my anxiety, it has been easier to deal with things if I shut out the world and didn't have any contact with it. And, of course, that meant not having any friends. A year ago, I knew a couple of people here and there, but didn't really have any contact with them. I was busy with my anxiety, and busy with my ex. My social life was a joke.

Now, on the other hand, I know lots of people, and I'm out partying and having fun every weekend! I have people that contact me when they're gonna have a party, and ask me to come, and people that actually text me or call me to see if I know of any parties or if I'm having one myself. How strange is that? It's completely new to me, but I am enjoying every single bit of it. I actually have a social life. And I'm loving it!

Of course, since this have been on my mind lately, it has also caused me to sit down and actually think through what kind of social person I am, and what kind of friends I like having. And I've discovered a lot about myself, both good and bad.

I really dislike visiting people. To the point where I'll avoid it at all costs. I feel uncomfortable and trapped whenever I am visiting anyone, and I can't seem to relax, which makes me really tense and gives me headaches. So I rarely, if ever, visit people. I visit my parents, of course, if there's some special occasion, but that's about it. I'm not sure why I'm like that, but that's just the way I am. And I'm not too fond of getting visits either. My home is my sanctuary, so allowing people inside it is.. Well, it's difficult for me. I only allow people I trust or really, really like inside my home on a regular day. Luckily, not many of my friends visits people all that often, and the few that does are people I tolerate having in my home, so I'm all good there.
I think it's because visits are usually done in the afternoon, and I really, really dislike being social in the afternoon, for some weird reason. I mean, on a weekday, I usually go to town very often with my mum, and I absolutely love that. If I meet people in town, I can go to a café and have coffee with them and sit and talk for hours, or go shopping. I love being social in town! From around noon, and at least until 3 or 4 PM, I'm supersocial if I'm in town, and I love meeting as many people as possible. But the moment I'm back home, I'm done being social. And I need to be left alone. Even texting people or talking to someone on the phone is difficult, and I'd rather avoid it. I don't know why, but that's how I am. And considering that most people are at work when I'm in town and ready to be social, it can be really difficult maintining that kind of social life.

On Saturdays, however, I am completely different! I can't be social enough. I go to town with mum first, and then I have some hours at home where I eat dinner and get ready, and then I'm all set to party, and have loads of people around me. The more the better! And I have no trouble having guests on Saturdays, if I'm having a party. It makes me happy! And I love going out, cause I get to dance and hang out with lots of other people, and I often have nach at my place, where I invite random people home with me. It's really strange, but I can't be social enough on Saturdays, for some reason. Maybe I'm making up for not being all that social on the weekdays? I don't know. But I've discovered that I absolutely love being social and partying on Saturdays. Not Fridays, cause on Fridays I like to sit at home and just chill with beer and some candy and watch something or play something. And not Sundays, cause I'm hung over and would rather just be left alone and just relax. But Saturdays. My social day. And the day where I never say no to being around other people and having fun. Unless I'm really, really sick, or have some important appointment, of course.

Am I weird? I have specific times when I can be social, and if I have to be social outside of those times, I totally freak out and can hardly handle the situation at all. Is that normal? Should I be worried? Or should I just accept that that's the way I am, and learn to live with that? I mean, I personally don't mind being like that, cause right now my life is at a stage where this is perfect for me. The only thing that worries me is if some of my friends start to complain. They haven't so far, but what if they do? What if they dislike my way of being social?
Well, you know what? If they do, then they're not real friends. Right? I mean, real friends accept you for who you are, and how you are, and don't complain or ask you to change. And so far, the friends I have haven't complained at all. Sure, I don't really see them that often, cause they rarely go to town at all, so we usually just end up meeting on the weekends when we party, but I love them dearly and treasure the time I have with them. And if they ever ask me to meet them in town on a normal weekday, then I'm definitely there. So, yeah, I'm really lucky. I have great friends, and I really appreciate that.


You know? When I really think about it, life's pretty good.

Bad head

Rollercoaster head ftw! Lol, my head had a little date with a car window on Saturday, so I'm still seeing stars. No concussion though, which is good, but according to the doctor I'm probably still in shock, so I need to take it easy for a while. My head is totally out of it, and I can't seem to focus properly at all, and I've been like that since I woke up yesterday. The entire day yesterday I was so out of it that people kept asking me if I hadn't had enough sleep, or if I was drunk. I was totally lost. And I still am, but I do feel a bit better today. My head doesn't hurt quite as much as it did yesterday, and I have a bit more control over my head today.

I'm having a bit of trouble figuring out what to write here today though, cause the line of thought I had earlier last week is now completely gone. I have no idea what I was working on last week, when it comes to myself and my progress. I mean, I can hardly remember last week at all, which is a bit frustrating. And scary. But, that's my typical memory, I suppose.

I know that the last entry I made wasn't really a happy one, cause I was seriously down at the time and I had a major setback in my progress. And I know that I made a goal out of working out that setback of mine so I could keep moving forward. And I'm pretty sure I started on that. I think. Lol, I have seriously no idea. My entire week is just gone.

I do know that I've managed to sort through some stuff here in my apartment though! I fixed my chaotic jewelry mess, and I sorted through my Don Rosa collection, as well as move over all the stuff I had on my laptop, so those are things I can check off on my list of things to do. And I am, actually, feeling a lot better this week. I've managed to fight my way back to being a bit more on top of things and feel a bit more confident. I think I shot that submissive mask of mine, and burried it somewhere. And thank heavens I did, cause if I walk too long with that mask on, I get to the point where I start to think about ending my life. Sad, but true. I start thinking that I'm too worthless to live, so I look for ways to NOT live. But, I've managed to steer away from that line of thought.

I give myself peptalks on a regular basis, and even though it sounds silly, I can promise you that it helps. I'm forcing myself to keep a positive view on things, but repeating the same things over and over, to convince myself that I'm not worthless and that things will be alright. It's a type of self-hypnosis, which is something I've been writing about in my earlier entries. And it really does help. I think I must've done a lot of it last week, cause I'm feeling really great now. I'm back on my "don't give a fuck about what others think of me" wagon, which is my favourite wagon to be on cause it's one of my real ones. Deep down inside, the real me don't give a fuck. But my masks do, and since they've been in control of me all my life, I've been giving too much of a fuck.

This week I'll be working a bit more intensely on figuring out exactly why I keep letting those masks get the better of me, and learn to toss them away or bury them instead of letting them be in control of me. No mercy on the masks! I'm gonna dig myself out, no matter what.

But firstly, I'm gonna take today off and just chill.
I need it. And deserve it. So there.

I'm sorry. I've had a setback.

Definitely. Hit. A. Wall. Big time. And I still can't seem to figure out why. I can rule out PMSing, cause I got my period and I'm still moody as hell. I used to be like this back when I was depressed, but I really don't want to go down that road and believe that I am depressed again. There has got to be some other reason, and I just got to work harder to find it and solve it so I can go back to my usual pace of progress.

This past week my progress has gone from moving forward at a decent pace, to a slow halt, and then finally taking several steps back. A lot of the things I've worked hard for have slipped away from me this past week, and it's extremely frustrating. I've had a serious setback.

But, at least I have realized a couple of things, if nothing else.

You know, I was out drinking yesterday, and my god how I had missed going out. A bit strange, really, that I've gotten to such a point where I actually miss going out and being social, considering how anti-social I've been about 90% of my life. But, yeah, I had missed it. Though, I had trouble getting back into things, for some strange reason.

First off, last night almost didn't happen at all. I called a friend of mine, whom I always party with, and she was sick. She couldn't party with me. And my plans for the night died, which fuled that sadfaced virus that's been sucking on me this past week, and I totally hit the wall. Luckily, in the middle of my despair and going down dark roads of heavy thoughts, my sister called me and wanted me to come join her and her cousin. Literally saved my night, that did.
We had a lot of fun, and it turned into a rather big party after a while before we all went out. My sister's cousin (whom used to be my best friend when I was just a little kid, and whom I've always had a small crush on) was pretty drunk, and I ended up watching over her the entire night. I didn't really mind, cause she's nice, but somehow my night just turned out really weird. After she left, I did a quiet round around the club, before I walked home.
And that's when the alcohol decided it was time to punch that sadfaced virus of mine, and I had a typical drunk crying moment that lasted all the way from the gas station to my apartment, and halfway through eating the burger I had bought at the gas station. When I finally crawled into bed, I was totally beat.

Why was I crying? Because I hated myself. I got out my masks again last night, and the fact that I did was a fact that I hate. It was that submissive mask. The one I put on when I let the entire world dominate me and walk all over me, and I apologize for not being more pleasant to walk all over. Definitely the mask I hate the most, that. Met a guy that remembered me from back in the days when I used to work at a school cafeteria, and he kept calling me Anette, like most people had done that night. My name is Anett, and yet I didn't right him, or anyone else, the entire night. I didn't want them to feel bad for using the wrong name.
And at the gas station, I more or less apologized for every little thing I said and did. They work there, late at night, during the weekends, and they know that the only customers they'll be getting are drunk ones wanting burger. And I stood there, apologizing for ordering food in my drunk state. I apologized when I had to ask if the soda that came with the burger was the bottle kind or the cup kind. I was inches away from apologizing for breathing, or even existing at all. When I got my food, I aplogized for bothering them and slipped out the door as quickly and quietly as I possibly could, and made my way home.

I spent most of last night just apologizing.


Want to know a fun fact about me and how far I tend to stretch just to please others? I've tried hard to gain weight, just so that someone who had issues with their own weight would feel skinny next to me. I try to look ugly, so anyone with issues with their appearance will feel pretty next to me. I act dumb, just so that others can feel smart.
Earlier this week I bought a pair of jeans one size too big, cause me and my sister were trying them on in the same dressing room and that was the size she needed, and I know she has issues with her weight and her body so I didn't want her to feel bad by buying the jeans in a smaller size than she did.
My sister is so amazingly beautiful, and there is absolutely no part of her that is overweight in any way. I think she looks perfect. But she doesn't believe that, cause she's brainwashed by how the public displays "beauty" and is constantly trying to lose weight to meet those idiotic ideals. My ex was just like that, and probably still is. Weight issues. Caused by stupid idiots with a fucked up idea of what beauty is. Ticks me off, it does.
But, yeah, I do the same around my sister as I used to do around my ex. I try to be fat and ugly so that she can feel skinny and pretty.

I don't really know what to say about this. Honestly. I have no idea. This is how I've been my entire life. Apologizing for existing, and putting myself down to raise others up. I've tried so hard, all my life, to be everything I'm not just to please everyone around me. I've buried myself so deep down beneath layers of crap, that I honestly don't really know much about who I really am.
And after working so intensely these past months to dig out that ME that's somewhere inside me, I managed to drown all that work during these past weeks beneath those layers of crap again.

And now I'm back to apologizing for being a part of this world.

Silent patch

I've been having a bad week, so I don't really have much progress to write about. I think I might be PMSing really bad, cause one moment I'm really irritated and everyone annoys me, while the other I'm curled up on my couch and crying my eyes out for no reason at all. And I've been like that an entire week. And this weekend, all I did was shut myself in and drown myself in self pity, chocolate, and god damned ponies. I curse the one who invented that addictive crap, ugh! I'm so pony-poisoned, that the voices in my head are starting to sound like Applejack!

I need a cure. Fast.


I am trying to remind myself that it's okay to have bad days, cause I have a bad habit of forgetting, but it's difficult to hammer it into my head when I'm feeling down. This flu really got to me, in every bad way possible, and it's nearly been driving me over the edge. Next weekend I'mma go out and have some fun, cause I think I need it now. And I definitely need to do something about my apartment!

Uch, when I'm in a bad mood, chaotic mess goes from being slightly bad to being a disaster around me. This place looks like a bomb went off! Or two! Or quite possibly three! My god, I need to fix that. Last week I actually managed to clear out my wardrobe and purge it. Got a large load of clothes I can store away until I get a bigger place, so now my wardrobe is neatly organized and a bit more empty. So, now I can finally cross that off my list of things to do, which made me feel pretty good.

I think maybe I'll take this week to try and tidy up the chaotic mess I've created when I've been so down, cause as it is right now I wouldn't even let my own mum visit me. It looks bad.


I'm not sure why I've been so down. My best guess is PMS, cause I've been eating a lot as well. It's as if I'm always hungry, and that's typical of my PMSing. There really isn't anything else it could be, anyway, though I have to admit that I haven't really tried sitting down to search inside myself to see if there's anything bothering me. Which is... Probably a bad thing. I did, after all, promise myself that I'd start caring about myself, and that this year was all about ME. So, yeah, maybe I should take a moment to figure out if this really is PMS, or if it's something else.

Though, to be perfectly honest, the more I think about it the more it feels like there's something bothering me. I just can't seem to figure out what. I suppose I've just met another "silent patch". You know, those rest stops on your road where you seem to be standing still and making no progress at all. Cause I honestly don't feel like I'm moving forward at all right now.

You know what? I need to take a silent week. Just tidy up the apartment, and do some intense soul searching, to see if I can't find my way back onto my path again. And then, when the weekend comes, I'll go out and dance and have some fun, and just get all the bad stuff out of my system.

That, my dear, sounds like a plan!

Sex and the Alternative

How often do you masturbate?
And why?

I do it every night, and I do it for all the wrong reasons. I've never really enjoyed it, and I've never done it because I was turned on or needed to let out some sexual frustration. To me, it's pure business. I do it to make my body relax so I might sleep better at night, and for no other reason. I might also do it if I'm really tense, also to relax my body. There's nothing sexual about it, for me at least. Sure, that exact moment when I have an orgasm is pleasant, that I'm gonna be honest about, but working my way towards it and how I feel afterward is anything but pleasant. It's just tiresome. So, yeah, pure business.
Just like sex in general, really. I rarely enjoy sex, even though I might pretend to. Yeah, sure, I may come off as a very sexual being, mainly because I have the dirtiest mind ever. I can turn even the most innocent things into sexual innuendos. I'm just that skilled. But, despite that, I have never been a fan of sex. I do it to satisfy others, not myself. Sure, I do have my periods of "sexual highs", as I call them, when I'm superhorny and nearly jump people out of pure sexial frustration. But, those are rare, and years pass between them. No, sex just isn't my thing. I don't feel comfortable having it.

Not sure why I'm like this. But I've always been this way. Okay, no, I kind of lie now. Around women, ever since I was a little girl, I've always had trouble keeping my hands to myself. Women turn me on just by looking at me. Though, I'll be honest and admit that I'm not as experienced as people may think when it comes to actual sex with a woman. I'm... Shy. But I've had my share, that I have, so I know a thing or two. And still, even with women, I tend to shy away from sex. Even though I enjoy them, I rarely enjoy sex. If that makes any sense at all. Truth be told, I can count on one hand how many times I've managed to feel comfortable and enjoy having sex with someone. And considering how much sex I've actually had in my life, that says a lot. Cause, despite disliking it, I have had a lot of it.

I aim to please?
I don't know.

But what I do know is that sex is a topic that, despite what I let people believe, I kind of dislike. Well, that is, if the topic is scentered around getting me into bed there and then or in the near future. I can easily talk about sex I've already had, but thinking or talking about having sex sometime in the future just freaks me out. It even freaks me out when people hit on me, or try to touch me. Or, rather, when men do it. I'm okay with women hitting on me, but then again, I'm okay with most things involving women, lol.

Basically, sexual stuff and men. Bad combo.
I really am a lesbian, no matter how much I don't want to be. *le sigh*



That aside, I see that more and more often I am a day late with my entries to this blog. Either I'm busy, away, sick, or hung over on sundays, and I just don't get around to actually getting up the entries I've got planned - or have started writing on. I'm starting to think that maybe I'll try and do my updates on mondays from now on, so as not to feel really bad about myself for not posting anything on sundays. Cause, yeah, I really do feel bad. Last night, after going to bed, I remembered that I had forgotten about my blog (I spent the weekend with my folks, cause I was sick and cause me and mum had some appointments together), and I felt absolutely horrible. Though I'm not really sure why.

So, yeah, I'm considering moving my weekly updates to mondays. But I'm gonna wait and see what happens before deciding. If I manage to do updates on the next two sundays, then I'll stick to that, but if I'm a day late the next couple of weeks as well, then I'll just move my updates and start doing them on mondays instead. We'll see, we'll see.



Okay, so, this weekend there was an alternative, uh, fair? Mass? Mess? I don't know what it's called in English, lol. But, anyway, there was a lot of people having stands where they did psychic readings and sold fancy stuff, and of course I had to attend. I was actually supposed to have a stand there myself, but I was too slow to get one, so I'll just do it next year instead. I really do love alternative stuff, mainly because I am a practitioner myself. I do readings in cards. And I'm pretty good. Still working on training my abilities - they're vast, but untrained - and this weekend I bought a set of stone runes that I'm going to learn how to use. That'll be interesting.

And not only that, but we had some famous faces as well. One was Lilli Bendriss, whom is a famous psychic here in Norway, and she had her own stand. I talked very briefly to her, about some necklaces she was selling, and was shaking as a leaf when I walked from there. Lol, I'm not good at talking to famous people. The other was our country's princess, Märtha Louise, with her partner, Elisabeth Nordeng. They run an "angel school" called Astarte Education, where they teach people to use their abilities and make contact with their guardian angels. The two of them were having a presentation called "Standing in the Storm" this sunday, and the day before they were selling and signing their books. Of course, me and mum got their books and got them signed. Kind of neat to stand in front of the princess like that. And the presentation they had were really good! It was inspiring and motivating, and urging us all to find ourselves, accept that person for who she/he is, and be that person 100%. It was exactly the kind of presentation I needed these days, considering what I'm in the middle of doing.

All in all, I really enjoyed this weekend, despite being sick. It brought me a lot of motivation, when it comes to finding myself, and when it comes to training my own abilities. Becuase, no matter how you look at it, my abilities is a large part of who I am. I'm extremely spiritual, and I'm very drawn to alternative things such as paranormal stuff and psychic stuff. It's a part of my identity, and I feel that it is important to me to honour that side of me by not hiding it from the world. I shouldn't be concerned about what others think about me and my abilities, and instead be proud of them! What others believe, is their business. I just need to concentrate on believing in myself.

I won't deny myself, or who I am. Not anymore.

Drama and self-hypnosis

Took me just about forever, but now I'm finally getting my blog updated. I've had it at the back of my mind all day, but I've had such a busy day that I haven't had the time to actually sit down and do it. So now I'm just gonna start off with a quick update on things, before moving on to the actual entry.

I had an ex of mine visiting me today, which was surprisingly okay. Haven't seen him in years, though we talk on the phone every now and then, so actually meeting him again was nice. I also got it confirmed that I am indeed very much through with him, cause I wasn't nervous or uncertain in any way. It was just like having a friend over. And that felt good, cause now I know that even though I did care for him back then, he wasn't right for me. And no, males really do not interest me anymore. I am done with them, and have no reason to doubt that. I think I needed that confirmation, actually.

I also have one other thing I need to get off my mind, cause it bothered me all of yesterday and left me in a bad mood. Which is annoying, cause I shouldn't let things like these bother me, but maybe just writing about it will get it out of my mind.
I got some drama this weekend when I was at a party, and I didn't actually do anything wrong. See, last party I had at my place, I met a couple of guys that were really okay, and they stayed behind after everyone had left (they were driving, so they were both sober), and as they played lots of music for me, one of them had a moment of having his hand between my legs. Now, I didn't really react. I don't care about, nor do I get turned on by, a man having his hand between my legs. But, they played Disturbed for me, and THAT turns me on, and they found that entertaining.
So, the party I was at this weekend, was his party. And, at some point, he told some of the people at the party that I was the weirdest girl he knew, cause him having his hand between my legs didn't turn me on, but music did. We all found that hilarious, of course, and we partied on. I think it was mentioned a couple of times after that, and I just lol'd at it. Then, suddenly, his ex (whom was present at the party) apparently tells people to get me to leave, cause she can't stand my face. And the host, get this, tells me that he finds it inappropriate that I tell people that he had his hand between my legs when he had only had it on my thigh. I mean, seriously? And I just laugh at him and told him that he was the one who told people, not me, and he still tells me it is inappropriate. In the end, the entire thing just gets so freaky that I decided to leave and go out instead. I actually tried talking to his ex, and even apologize if I had done something wrong, but she just told me to gtfo.
The entire thing is just silly. Okay, apparently those two still has issues they need to clear up, since something like that causes that kind of drama. But dragging me into it, and blaming it all on me? That was just stupid. But what annoys me the most, is that I actually tried to aplogize. I hadn't done anything wrong, and still I tried to apologize. Why do I always do that? It's like I'm constantly begging for forgiveness for even existing! I hate that about myself. I hate how I crawl for others all the time. Cause, that's not even the real me. I do that to please everyone else. The real me? Would've told them to fuck off and stop dragging me into their problems. And that I let it get to me that she got mad at me, that really bugs me. Cause that's the crawling part of me, that's not real, that's still trying to take control.

So, yeah, apparently I still have trouble being myself.
Huge setback, that.

And this brings me on to my real blog entry.


I've had a lot to think about this past week, and of course the most visited thought is me trying to dig out the real me. It's not as easy as it seems, especially since the fake me is still fighting to stay in control so I won't disappoint people. I have moments where I literally want to physically hit myself with something hard and sharp, just to get me to snap out of that stupid state I'm in. I need to stop existing for the sake of everyone else! I need to exist for ME! I need to be selfish. I need to ignore what everyone else thinks. Or what I think they think. I need to focus on myself, and my own needs. My own feelings. My own desires. Me.

But it's difficult. And it annoys me that it's difficult. Something like that shouldn't be difficult. In my opinion. But, it is, and I just need to teach myself to work around it. Make it easy. And realize that it'll take time, and that I have that time it'll take. No need to rush things.

I am also working on a type of self-hypnosis, to teach myself that I'm not worthless. And, I think it's going pretty well. It has done wonders for my self-esteem, it has. Cause, you see, whenever I go to town, I usually walk around thinking things such as "everybody thinks I'm stupid and ugly, and they hate me, and I should've just stayed at home, I'm hopeless and worthless" and so on. My usual thoughts, as they have been for years. But, a while back I started telling myself things whenever I was in town, just repeating the same thoughts over and over again: "Man, I'm so awesome. I'm the most awesome chick in this entire town! Everyone who walks by me thinks I'm really hot, and that I look really interesting. And everyone who knows me, loves and admires me. I'm the fucking queen of this town!"
Lol, I know these are silly things to tell myself, but it is to counter those negative thoughts that I've struggled with all my life. And it works! I start to think that mabye I'm not as bad as I thought, and the moment I do that I perk up a bit. My entire vibe changes, and I project the image of being confident, which is something that people are attracted to. And, of course, then I get more people who looks at me and smiles when they walk passed, cause they do find my confidence attractive, which then gives me a confidence boost and helps me believe that, hey, maybe I'm not so bad after all.

I'm finally at a point where I am starting to believe that I'm actually worth something. That maybe, just maybe, I'm not stupid and ugly and hated by everyone. That, actually, I'm pretty okay. And when you've lived your entire life feeling absolutely worthless, getting to that point is so amazing that I can't even describe it with words.

And, yes, boosting my confidence makes it easier for me to try and dig myself out, and be the real me. So, all in all, I'm extremely pleased with my progress. I think I might just be on the right track here. And, I'm gonna keep this up. I am going to reach that point where I've managed to dig myself out, accepted who I am, learned to love that person, and finally be that person. And I am going to reach that point sometime during this year.

If I tell myself that long enough, it'll happen.
Self-hypnosis, baby! Self-hypnosis!

Partyparty and EX-traterrestrials

Still a bit sick, and today I'm hung over as well. Lol, shit happens. And then you apparently party naked. Or at least half-naked. Which tends to happen at my parties, for some strange reason. It's as if the entire vibe of my apartment invites people to get undressed. Not that I'm really complaining, cause it's always hilarious to watch people when they get to the point in the drinking that they start taking clothes of randomly. Fun times, fun times.

I've discovered something about myself, and that is that I tend to throw pretty crazy parties! People get undressed, everyone makes out with everyone, furniture gets broken, singing and dancing happens, and occassionally hitting eachother just for fun, and even biting. Aaaand, we tend to keep it going until the morning after. Which gets me little to no sleep, of course, but we do have a good time. Totally worth it.

You know, I've never really been much of a partier, aside from some few periods here and there, and just a year or so back in time I couldn't go out without my ex to latch on to. She really was my cage. But now, however, I am not really taking it easy. I'm out as often as I can, I usually get drunk as a pineapple, and I end up throwing huge after parties at my place. And I meet loads of new and exciting people! I'm social, I'm having fun, I'm drinking and dancing, and making a complete fool outta myself. Not to mention my amazing skill to facerape myself with posting all sorts of weird thoughts that run through my head on Facebook whenever I am out. It's, uhm... I've changed. No doubt about that.

Though I am still working on finding out if I've changed as a person, or if I'm just finally being who I am and have changed out of one of my masks. I'm hoping it's the latter, cause I enjoy this change. I enjoy going out and doing what I want. Cause that's one of the problems I have, that keeps me behind these masks; I've never dared to do what I want.

I notice it in the little things. How I make small excuses and don't tell people what's really on my mind, cause I don't want to hurt them or disappoint them. When someone asks me to come meet them, and I honestly want to just sit at home and work, my mind panics in search of some good excuse so I don't have to hurt their feelings by just saying that I don't feel like it. It's silly, I know, but I've always been like that. This past week, I've really been in a working mode, writing on things, and I've actually been really grateful that I've been sick. Cause, whenever people have asked me to come visit them, or something else that would require me to leave my work, I could just tell them truthfully that I was sick and couldn't go anywhere. Which is, by far, a better excuse than "no, sorry, I want to sit here and write things about a world that's fictional to everyone but me."

And what bugs me is that I actually want to say just that. I want to tell people exactly what's on my mind, and just be honest about what I really want. I've just never been able to. It kind of makes me feel stupid. And I'm wondering what good it's truly doing me, making up excuses so as not to hurt anyone. And what good it's doing any of them. How can they trust me, when I'm not being honest with them? I know it's a bit extreme to put it that way, but sometimes I need to have those extreme thoughts to make a point to myself. So that I might just understand how serious things are.

It's all a part of fighting to dig out the real me, and to trust myself enough to actually be that person that's the real me. I'm tired of being something I'm not. And I'm tired of people looking at me, and thinking that I am that something that I'm not.

I still got cages I need to break out of.


And speaking of cages. My ex have been visiting my mind a couple of times of late. You know, I haven't seen her for four months now. Ever since she dropped my things off here and claimed back her house key. I haven't even seen her online on Facebook since then. It's as if she has dropped off the face of the earth. Then, last Friday, I suddenly got a text message from her. Apologizing for bothering me, but she was wondering if I knew the name of some song and the artist who had it. Left me staring at my phone, it did, wondering what the fuck. She could've easily googled it, so why text me? Me, her ex girlfriend, and ex best friend, whom she threw out of her life after treating me pretty badly and breaking my heart. Why would she text me just to ask about something like that?

According to everyone else, she's apparently now trying to sneak back into my life because she can't stand that I'm actually doing well without her. I have positive status updates on Facebook, and have even changed my relationship status from "single" to "in a relationship". Which, by the way, was a hilarious semi-joke that caused a lot of fun reactions. I'm not really in a relationship. At least not with someone of our world... But, that's an inside thing, and no one else but me needs to know the real details behind it all. But, yeah, it's pretty much all over Facebook that I'm doing really good. And, of course, my lovely loved ones, is certain that she's seeing this and hating that she's not a part of it.

Honestly, I think that's just a load of bullshit. Yeah, sure, I know they all think she's a manipulative bitch and a psychopath that have taken advantage of me for as long as I've known her, and to some extent I have to admit that they do make some rather good points when they give me their proof of why they see her that way. But! I honestly don't see why she'd bother keeping an eye on me like they claim she is. I mean, that would actually mean that she, in some strange way, still care about me. And I just can't seem to get myself to belive that she does. I honestly have trouble believing that she ever cared about me. Besides, from what I can see, she has more or less quit Facebook, so I highly doubt she even sees my updates.

I don't believe that that text of hers was an attempt to get back in touch with me, like they all claim. Mum seems to think that she might even have seen that she has made an error, and is trying to fix things in her strange and twisted way. I think they just overthink things a bit too much. And by filling my head with their overthought thoughts, I end up thinking about her. Which is something I'm trying not to do.

Of course, I'll admit that things are a bit weird, especially after I suddenly got a friend request from her boyfriend a couple of days ago. I mean, that really made me put on my wtf-face. Why would he send me a friend request? I don't know him. The only time I've even seen him was that night out when she first met him. The only thing that connects us in any way, is that he's dating my ex. And me and her ain't friendly no more! The whole thing left me a bit baffled, I'll admit that.

But, you know, I think that FB probably suggested me cause we have some people in common on our friend list, and he just sent the request without even thinking about who I was. This is not a part of some evil plot that she has to gain control of me, like some people claim. That's just... Stupid. I didn't even respond, and I'm just gonna put the whole thing away on a shelf somewhere along with the text she sent me, and forget about it. I see no reason to let it gnaw on my brain.

If she, for some reason, want to get back into my life again, and actually makes a real and honest attempt at making amends (which would require her actually realizing that she's done something wrong, regret it, and then face it), then sure. I'd accept that attempt. But trust her and let her into my heart? That will never happen. Ever. It may sound cruel, but that's just the way it is. She fucked up. Bad. And I'm not gonna pretend it never happened.

But, right now, I've put her in a box and put her away. And that's that.


Besides, this year is all about me. I'm gonna learn to be selfish and keep my focus on myself and my own path, and work my way on finding the real me beneath my layers of masks. I'm gonna teach myself never to sacrifice myself for others, nor ignore my own needs to fulfil those of others. And I'm not going to let anything get in the way of that.

Cause, you know, the more I see of the person that is the real me, the more eager I get to get her out and show her off! And when I finally do get her out, I'm never, ever going to let her disappear again!

Distant motivation

A day late, again. But I've been sick with the flu, so I've spent the weekend with my parents. I get so focused on them when I'm there, so I'm hardly online at all, and this time I was battling a fever on top of it all, so the blog just had to be put on hold.


What I've been working on this past week, aside from a god damned flu, is my motivation. Cause I lack a lot of it. I know a lot of things I really, really want to do, but I lack the proper motivation and energy to actually get it done. They say that when you can't get anything done, it's cause you don't want it bad enough, but I find that to be bullshit. Man, there is so much that I want so badly that I'd almost be willing to kill for it, so that's not the problem. It's usually my energy-level that stands as a god damned wall in my way, and banging my head against it is enough to drive someone insane. I've got me, wanting something so badly, and then there's one part of me that has no energy to do it, and another that keeps saying that there's no reason to even try cause I'll probably fail. Arguing with myself, on a daily basis, kind of keeps me from walking forward. I swear, keeping control on myself is like running a god damned zoo!

But, yeah, I struggle a lot with forcing myself to do the things I want to do. I wonder why that is? Cause I've already established that it's not that I don't want it bad enough. Even after everything I've been through with myself lately, I still have trouble cooperating with myself. I fight a lot with myself. And that creates a massive hindrance in my path that I really need to somehow break down. I can't have this wall, blocking my way, keeping me from reaching my goals! Maybe it's time to sit down and have a proper talk with myself, and find out what I really want in life?

Oh, wait, wasn't that the point of this blog?
Lol, yeah, that it was.


Okay, so that aside, I've figured out something else this past week. And that is that I really, really want to move away from this town. Of course, I've known that for years (ever since I moved back here, really), but lately I've really learned to see exactly why I want to move.

When you are slowly working on finding yourself, and you realize that who you are is different than what you've been so far, then staying in the same place where everyone still sees you with those old eyes doesn't really help in any way. There are people around you, all expecting you to be that "character" you've been for as long as they've known you, and trying to live up to those expectations really comes in the way of being who you really are inside. You feel that being yourself will disappoint them, so you don't. You stay the same. For them. And you disappoint yourself.

You slowly work yourself into an evil circle, where you just hurt yourself.

Sure, many of my friends tell me that I've changed a lot these past months, and that I can't even be compared to who I used to be last year, and that they're all so proud of me for changing so much (though they all claim it's cause I managed to break out of the cage my ex kept me in). And I can't even begin to describe how good that makes me feel, cause then I know that the changes I've felt aren't my imagination. But they still see me with old eyes, and I keep trying to be the person they're used to, so I won't push them away by being someone else. In the end, that kind of haults my process.

I need to be seen with new eyes. Seen by people who didn't know the old me, the "character" I've been trapped behind all these years, and that don't expect me to be that person. Someone who can look beyond what used to be, and see me for who I truly am now! And no one of my friends, darling as they are, see that. They still see that old me. The fake me. And right now, I'm so desperate for someone to see the person that has been hiding beneath all that! I need to be seen! And I'm starting to feel that no one here will be able to. That I need to leave this place and go somewhere else to have someone see me. And that kind of saddens me a bit.

I can't afford to go anywhere right now. And, even if I did, I have nowhere to go. I can't sell my apartment for at least a couple of years, and I haven't found another town that I'd like to live in. Nor do I have anything to move to, cause my friends and family all live here. Yes, I do have friends elsewhere, but my closest ones don't even live in Norway, and that complicates things a bit. It's kind of depressing, to be honest. I feel so desperate to leave, and I have no means to.

I'd settle for a vacation, but even that I can't afford. I'm saving up for my two months stay with a friend of mine in Israel (if everything goes according to plan), but that trip is half a year away! And right now I feel that I need to go somewhere soon. I don't want to wait that long with getting distance from my old life and my old self. I need that distance now. I just don't know how to get it.


Maybe, if I got some distance, and someone saw me for who I am, I'd be able to find the motivation I've been lacking for so long? I don't know, but it's certainly a thought that keeps playing at the back of my mind.

Fucking confused

I really don't know what to say for this week's update, to be honest. I haven't really made any progress in my progressing plans, and my head's been acting up. And today I'm just hung over, lol. But, okay, I'll conjure up a weekly report.

I've finished my amazing list of things that needs to be done in 2012, and it's hanging neatly on my wall, but I haven't gotten around to actually doing anything about it. My home is still a chaotic mess unlike anything else, and my head is just as bad. This past week or so, my head has just completely disconnected, and I am having some huge problems trying to keep up with the world and reality in general. I'm completely out of it! But, on the bright side, I've started writing on my roleplay again, and the roleplay sessions on GaiaOnline (an online forum I'm a member of) have started again. That makes me really giddy, cause roleplaying really is a passione of mine. It's one of the few things that can get me excited, at least for a little while.
But, yeah, since my head has disconnected, I haven't really been able to do much of the things I've been supposed to be doing. Which is a tad annoying, I'll admit that. The only real thing I've managed to figure out about myself this past week is that when my head's not with me, I am pretty much useless in the real world. I can't keep up with it. And that's when writing and working on my roleplay is just about the only thing I can manage to focus on.

Another thing I learned this past week is that certain people piss me off so much that I kind of want to rip their throats off. I'm not a violent person, but the right kind of people makes me want to punch things. In this case, it's that god damned aunt of mine. My grandma ended up in the hospital earlier this week, with a stroke, and my aunt made so much drama out of it. And, she has decided that she's angry at mum, because mum is living in a world of "illusions" when it comes to their childhood and have said that she'd rather see grandma dead. The one living with illusions is definitely my aunt, and I just want to punch her god damned face in when I see her. I can't talk to her, cause if I do I'll just explode. I have so much anger in me when it comes to her, because of my childhood and how they've all treated my mum, and if that anger ever escapes then I'm pretty sure it'll cause disaster. But, I did manage to stand in the same room as her, while visiting grandma, without jumping at her throat. I'm pretty proud of that, I am.

A third thing I've learned, which is something I learned last night, is that I'm possibly playing a dangerous game with one of my closest friends, and I really need to stop it so no one gets hurt. He's the most adorable guy I know of - geeky and awkward, and reminds me so much of the character Dr. Reid from Criminal Minds - and I love snuggling on him. I feel comfortable around him, to the point where we kiss and tumble around a bit in bed when we're drunk. No sex, so far, though. I joke about him being my drunk boyfriend, cause whenever we're drunk we're acting like a couple. And I really do feel like we'd make the most awesome couple ever! We really would! But, even though I find him attractive, and I like tumbling around with him, it all comes down to one major issue: he's a man. In the end, I really don't want to be with a man. I do want to have sex with him, I'll admit that, but only once to get it out of my system. And kind of just to test myself and see if I still get that nasty aftertaste after having had sex with a guy. It's been about 3 years since I last tested that, and it was plain awful. And, he semi-forced me into it, which made the experience even worse at that time. So yeah, I really feel that I need to have a testrun with a man now, in my quest to figure out my sexuality.
The problem here is that my drunkboyfriend is a really, really good friend of mine, and apparently he's a bit smithen by me. He told me so himself, last night. And that.... Is a problem. Because, if I keep up this little game with him, he might actually develop feelings for me, and I'll end up hurting him. Which is something I really don't want to do. I already saw the signs last night, when we were at his place for the pre-party before going out. I sat between him and our driver (whom seems to be all over me, despite having a girlfriend), and apparently my drunk boyfriend was acting a bit jealous over the fact that me and our driver almost flirted. I didn't really mean to (I mean, I flirt with everyone, all the time, cause that's just how I am, and I never really mean much with it), and truth be told I was oblivious to everything going on right behind my back. Another friend of mine, my lovely bride-to-be (she's getting married this summer), had to drag me into the bathroom and tell me that the two guys were silently fighting over me. And dumb as I am, I hadn't noticed. It was a bit of a punch in the face, for several reasons. One thing is that I hadn't even noticed, another was that if my drunk boyfriend got jealous then that means there's feelings involved.

Argh! I'm not sure what to do about the situation. All I know is that I really can't use him for my own sick experimental reasons, so I need to stop being so intimate with him. I need to sit down and have a proper talk with him about this, though I'm not sure what to say. The last thing I want is for him to get hurt. But, I definitely need to solve this situation somehow. And I cannot, under any circumstances, have sex with him. If I really have that dying need to fuck a man to test myself, then I've got to find someone else to do it with. Someone without those kinds of feelings, so I won't have to break someone's heart. Someone who basically won't mind being my test subject. My god, I am such a disturbed person....


In the end, what I've learned so far in my little search for myself is that I am extremely confused, and basically just lost within the woods somewhere in my head. I have a lot of things I need to figure out, so this year will be a long road to walk down. This little quest of mine isn't one that'll be finished in one night, or week. It'll probably take me all year, as I originally planned. And... It'll be a confusing, yet hopefully interesting, year.

Family and Sexuality

I'm a day late with my weekly blog update, but all of yesterday disappeared into oblivion somehow. Lots of working, spending time with my family, and trying hard not to focus on today's appointment at the hospital. Which was, by the way, absolutely horrible. Getting a camera on a cable shoved down my throat isn't something I'll be doing again, that's for sure. The real unpleasant part is how my body tensed as I tried to throw it up, but couldn't since the damned thing was already deep down in my intestines. Not. Doing. That. Again. So there.

Anyway, back to the usual schedule.

This entry is the last of the sum up entries, as February is closing in and I'm about to start that journey of mine into 2012, and a better life. And I figured I'd talk about my family, which is an important part of my life, and my sexuality, which is a constant annoyance to me.



I have a very deep and close relationship to my closest family members, and they really do mean the world to me. I'd do anything for them, and if anyone dare hurt them then they've made an enemy for life. This inner circle of mine is my mum, of course, my dad (whom is actually my stepdad, but I've called him daddy for years), my younger brother, my two younger sisters, and my grandparents (my stepdad's parents, that is). But they are also the only ones that I do allow into that circle of mine, and whom I'd do anything for. Got a rather good relationship to one of my cousins, whom I party a lot with, but that's about it. The rest of my family... Well, I don't really get along with them all that well.

My biological father is just that; my biological father. I've had a bad relationship to him for as long as I can remember, and even though I tend to forgive him his idiocy, I don't think I'll ever trust him. What little I remember of my childhood with him is how much he drank, cursed, beat his dog, and basically scared the living shit outta me. I used to cry when my mum sent me off to stay with him, cause I was certain he'd end up killing me and my sisters (we have the same father, but not the same mum, so we used to stay with him every other weekend). I was deathly afraid of him, even though he never laid a hand on us. And still I loved him, because he was my father, and I trusted him when he made me promises that he eventually ended up never keeping. He hurt me. Over and over again. And he taught me never to trust a man.
I do care for him, of course, and I talk to him every now and then. He's my father, after all. I'm not afraid of him anymore, cause I know he's just a silly little man, nor do I get sad when he breaks a promise. I've learned to accept that that's just the way he is. But, I carry a lot of anger and sadness inside me because of him, that I have yet to deal with, and it's not good for me. One day, I will have to confront him and tell him of all this pain he has caused me, if only for the sake of me learning to put it all behind me.

The rest of the father's side of the family? They've always looked down on me. They're "noble people" and no one is as good as them. And when I've struggled with my self-esteem most of my life, I tend to just stay away from them. I have an uncle who's a real business man, stuck up and on his high horse, whom I care very little for, and a pair of grandparents that always serve me sarcastic comments that makes me feel bad. I don't think they really mean to be mean, but that's how they end up being. It's just how they are. I do care for them, I'll admit that, but visiting them is unpleasant so I avoid doing so. People think badly of me for not visiting my own grandparents, but I'd rather be seen as a mean grandkid than hear how much of a failure I am as a person.

My mother's side of the family is in a league of it's own, and I've struggled all my life with accepting them. My grandfather is dead, unfortunately, and he was one of the few that I liked. My grandmother is... Well, I want to like her, but I just can't. Not after all the things she has done towards my mum. No one has ever hurt my mum more than her, and I will never forgive her for it. And my mum's sisters, my two aunts... I tried to accept them for mum's sake, but now I'm just fed up with them. The way they've treated my mum, after everything she's done for them, makes me sick to my stomach. I know, better than anyone else in this world, how much mum has sacrificed for their sake. To help them. I know, cause I had to suffer for it. I hated the phone. Whenever it rang, it was them, needing something, and mum had to leave. And I was left behind, alone. My grandmother was a drunk, mum's youngest sister was as crazy as can be, and her oldest sister was a drug addict, and every time something went wrong they called my mother to have her fix it. And today, they claim that mum never did anything for them.
I will never, ever forgive them for that. They ruined my childhood, and now they can stand there and claim nothing of it happened? They've hurt my mum, badly, and nothing in the world can ever make me forgive them for that. So, yeah, I don't really have much of a relationship to my family.

But, you see? My inner circle is everything to me. I never forgive those who hurt them, and I'll do anything to protect them. That's how I am. The people I love is my world, and there is little I wouldn't do for them if they ever asked me. I protect mine. But those outside that circle? I tolerate them. But if they step over the line, then they've made it on to my list of people I don't get along with at all. People I'll never forgive. I may forgive even the worst of things that people do against me, but I never forgive those who hurt my loved ones.

And that's just how it is.



Putting that behind us, I'mma drag out a pretty different subject; my freaky sexuality.

Why would I talk about that? Well, becuase it's been one of my biggest annoyances all my life. Me and my sexuality, we just don't get along that well.

For some strange reason, I really want to put it in a box, and say that this is what I am. Which is why I've settled with telling people that I am a lesbian. Which is semi-true, and the easiest way to explain things. But, it's still not 100%, and that bothers me! I'm not a lesbian! Not entirely. But no, I'm not bisexual either, nor pansexual. And I'm far from straight, I can tell you that right away. After 27 years, I still don't really know what I am.

Some people claim that I am closet-straight, which is just ridicules. Me? Straight? I mean, come on. I haven't flown straight since I was 5 years old, so they're way off course there. Mum is pretty sure that I am pansexual, which is pretty nice. That's what I've always wanted to be, cause pansexuality is what I believe to be the "best" sexuality out there. You don't like someone based on their gender, but on their personality (a quick wikipedia link about pansexuality). It's pretty nifty, and way better than being bisexual, which is what a lot of people have believed me to be for many years. I've been in long relationship with both men and women, and had sexual relationship with both genders, so I've been a bit all over the place. But in the end, I still struggle.

I do feel a lot better about things after settling on being a lesbian, and telling people that. Which was something I settled on as late as early last year. But it still don't feel right. I mean, I can get attracted to both men and women, and go as far as fall in love with both, but that's where the similarities end.

When it comes to men, I'm very picky. Few men fall under my category of good looking, and even fewer fall under the category of having a good personality. And, of course, those that fall under both categories are rare specimens indeed. And most of them are game/anime/movie characters. Oh, if some of them had been real, and available for me, then I'd go for it, no doubt! But they're not. And when it comes to real men, I'm as picky as can be. Sure, I can flirt with them, and enjoy spending time with them, and even go as far as to kiss them! But that's where I draw the line. If it gets more intimate than that, then I freak out. I panic. And every single part of me tells me that this is wrong, and that it needs to stop. And if I ever do go as far as to have sex with a man, I feel filthy and disgusting afterwards, and feel like I've done something wrong. I generally have a problem with men touching me. It's just... Wrong.
Of course, male friends that I like and trust, I don't mind if they touch me, snuggle with me, or even kiss me. I'm okay with that. Because I've managed to get to a point where I feel safe around them. But strangers I don't feel safe around? If they touch me, I almost feel like throwing up. So yeah, even though I tend to have a rather big mouth and flirt around a lot with random guys, I never want to take it very far. Because, when it's not intimate, it's not real.

As for women... Oh, my, how I love women. I find something pretty in almost every woman I see, and a pretty female face is enough to render me speechless and redfaced. Of course, I'm picky when it comes to personality, so I don't fall in love with every woman I see. But as for looks... Seriously, the world is drowning with gorgeous women, and I could spend the rest of my life just staring happily at them all. Oh, and how I love flirting with them. And cuddling them. Kissing them. And, ah, you know... Hehe, I really love women. I am, however, not the wildcat everyone believe me to be! Yes, I've had my share of women in my bed, but that don't mean I'm confident. Hell, I'm as shy as can be in bed, and I'm constantly afraid of not being good enough. When I like a woman, I want so badly to please her, but at the same time I'm almost afraid of her. I'm really, seriously, shy. And I mean supershy. I may be strong and dominant on all other areas, but when it comes to sex I'm as submissive, unsecure and shy as can be. And that's the plain truth.

So yeah, I confuse myself. I'm never shy around men, and I don't mind playing sexy and dominant with them in bed, though I'd rather avoid getting there with them in the first place cause intimate contact with men makes me feel bad. And I love women and can never get enough of them or their touch, but I'm so god damned shy around them that I always end up making a fool out of myself! What the fuck is wrong with me? In what way am I wired together? I seriously don't get it.

I know it's silly of me, cause in general I hate labels and boxes, but for some reason I have this burning need to box and label my own sexuality. But no matter how much I try, and ponder, and analyze, I just can't seem to figure out what I am. Can you?

Out of my mind

I've been planning this entry for about a week now, but now that I'm finally sitting down to try and write it, I have to admit that I'm at a loss for words. So, almost this entire entry have been copied from my other blog, because what I wrote there was... Well, perfect. One thing I never hide from people is the fact that I've had a lot of serious problems in my life. Mainly mental problems. Though I have gotten significally better these past months - past year, really, but it's only in these past months that I've really started to notice it - it still doesn't change the fact that not all is 100% okay, and that those many years of living with my problems have given me some nasty scars.

And, since I've decided to use the blog entries of January to go through things that have been and still is before starting on my road forward, as a way to get rid of all the old to make room for the new, I figured I'd dedicate this one to my sickness.


Because, I have been very, very sick in my life. I tend to forget about it every now and then, how sick I've really been in my worst periods, though it's probably because these memories are extremely painful ones. To say that I've been completely insane is an understatement. As I like to say - I've been the kind of crazy you see in movies.

The daily struggle with the voices in my head, and the many things I could see that no one else saw, not to mention the many different personalities arguing about who's really me. I was living a nightmare, every single day, while trying to maintain a decent facade to fool people into believing that I wasn't completely insane. The constant fear, the anxiety, the many hours of hysterical crying while begging for someone or something to come and take me away from it all or just kill me... Those were the worst years of my life. And I faced them alone.

I've struggled with things all my life, that much everyone know, and I've been diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder and a severe depression, but when I moved away from my home town to try and begin my new life after my friendship with my ex kind of cracked, it all went down the drain in a rather ugly way. Though I did enjoy living in that town, the life I lived on the inside was a very unpleasant one. Now that I think about it, I realize that there's a lot of things that happened during those years that I've just chosen to pretend never happened. I always say I can't remember much of those years, but when I really think about them I find that I walked around in a constant state of insanity.

The voices in my head was the worst part. They were pretty intense, especially the first two-three years or so. It was like going around with a constant radio in my head, and the shows weren't pretty ones. Telling me to do things I really didn't want to do, and teasing me for all sorts of things. They were just annoying at first, but as time passed they started to scare me. After a while, they were telling me to kill people, and on certain days they were so intense that the only thing I could do to keep from doing what they told me to was to somehow use pain to snap out of it. Just taking something sharp and randomly stab myself somewhere with it usually helped. But I had many, many hours during those years where all I could do was lie with my hands over my ears and cry while begging the voices to stop talking to me.

The many things I could see didn't really bother me much. It somehow turned into a little game, where they were teasing me while I was in public to make me screw up, and I had to find ways to communicate with them without anyone noticing that I was talking to something that wasn't there. The woman in the mirror, however, did bother me a lot, cause I never figured out who she was. And to be honest, I have a lot of difficulties remembering much about her. I just remember that there was a woman there, instead of my reflection, that used to talk to me, and she was usually in a very bad mood. Either mad or depressed, though sometimes I wondered if she was just bitter or hurt about something. I never found out. But the goblin-like creatures and the many other weird things I saw? No, they were just fun and games, even when they were annoying. In the end, I learned to just ignore them.

The personality issues were strange ones. I never really figured out what the deal was there. Sometimes it felt like I was just a shell of a body that had several different other people inhabiting it. And they all claimed to be me, yet none of them really were. The constant arguing and bickering they had was tiresome, and the uncertainty and the anxiety that came from it all was enough to choke me to death on certain days. It certainly made it difficult to breathe. I lost what little I had of myself during those years, and spent the following years living in utter confusion of who I truly was. Needless to say, it was horrible.

And the "thing" inside my head. During those years, I was scared to death of some being I was absolutely certain lived inside my head. I was told, by a friend of mine, that one time as he was keeping me company while I was throwing up in my bathroom after getting drunk on a monday afternoon, I had made him promise me that if I ever started to act differently he would chain me up somewhere and not let anyone go near me. I was deathly afraid that something inside my head would take control of me and do horrible things. I used to dream that the world ended just because that "thing" got out and managed to get in control of me. Whatever that was, it was one of my biggest fears, and I walked around being constantly afraid because of it. I never trusted myself, especially around people. What if it took control while I was in public? What if it made reality of the things the voices wanted me to do? It made it imposible for me to be around people.

Though the blackouts where rare, they freaked me out when they occurred. I could suddenly wake up in strange places, with no idea how I got there, or with wounds I didn't have before and with no idea how I got them. I don't know what they were, but they were anything but pleasant. Some times I only lost minutes, while other times I lost hours and even days. Most commonly, and hour or two would be gone from my memory, despite apparently having done a lot of things during those hours. It could've been my head surpressing my memories, or it could've been some other part of me taking control of me. I never really figured out what it was, and at some point (as far as I know) they stopped.


I've had a difficult life, most of my life, with troubles and whatnots of mental problems, but after I turned 20 I started living a nightmare. Everything inside my head went haywire on me, in the worst way possible, and the voices in my head and the things I saw went from being strange and unusual to directly horrifying. To be quite honest, I am glad no one got to see the hell I was living on the inside of me, cause I'm sure it would've scared them to death. And there is no doubt in my mind that they had locked me up somewhere. On certain days, I was the kind of crazy you only see in movies, and I can promise you that it wasn't a pretty sight.

After a while, things started to get a little better. The voices silenced themselves, and I didn't see things as often as I used to. The anxiety and the depression was still very much present, but the hysterical breakdowns and panic attacks dimmed down. I moved back to my home town, to be closer to my ex since we had gotten back our contact, and slowly forgot about how bad things had been.

Then, a couple of years back, things hit bottom for me again when she dumped me, and I fell back into a bad state. Started seeing things again, and my depression and anxiety flared up to the point where I'd get hysterical panic attacks and breakdowns whenever my head started teasing me by showing me things that weren't there. And once more, I started to lose contact with reality. I could stand in the middle of my own home town, that I knew better than any other place, and think to myself that I had never seen this place before. It was so alien, and even though I knew I had been there before, I just couldn't recognize it. At times I didn't even recognize myself, and I had periods where I couldn't look myself in the mirror cause the person looking back at me was someone I hadn't seen before. She wasn't me. Things felt unreal, and I had so many times where I had to ask myself if this was reality or not, cause I honestly didn't know. I walked around with constant anxiety, scared to death of everything around me - and inside me - and quite honestly wanted nothing more than to just die. To get away from it all. To get away from myself.

But, despite those years being as hard as they were, they were nothing compared to the hell I lived through when I was 20. Cause, this time around I had people around me to lean on. I had my ex there, cause things were still good between us, and even though things are as they are I bless her soul for the support she gave me back then. I got to live with her during some of my worst periods, and she took so good care of me and gave me all the help I needed from her. Though there was nothing she or anyone else could really do to help me during those days, it was good just to have that love. To know that I just needed to ask her, and she would be there. Especially since I was so addicted to her. It really meant everything to me.

6 years ago, I didn't have that. I didn't dare involve anyone. I stood through the hell all on my own, with no one to help me. With no one to lean on. And it made the problems even worse. Cause with no one there to drag me out of my worst psychotic states, I just managed to dig myself even deeper in. I didn't even see a psychologist, so all the issues I had were issues I had to solve on my own. It was my own choice, so I'm the one to blame for the hell I lived, cause I didn't want to bother anyone. I was so scared, thinking that I'd be a burden to my loved ones, or that I'd scare them away with all my crazy. And truth be told, I thought that if anyone ever knew what I was going through, that they'd submit me to the kind of nut house you see in the movies and just drug me down while I'm chained to my bed in a straight jacket.

When I tell you that I was the kind of crazy you only see in movies, it's not a joke. It's dead serious, to me. And it was horrible. I'm grateful for every single day I have where I don't have it like that, and I pray that I never have to experience it again. I'm scared to death of falling back into that place again, because I know better than anyone how close to jumping off that edge I've really been, quite literally. My own head almost killed me.



But, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. A lot of things changed within me last year, and I think I started on a very important road that I hope will one day lead me to the place I've always dreamt of being. I was healed by a family member of mine in April, and she helped me get rid of most of my anxiety, which was what really made the ball start to roll. Of course, it helped that I had just started to work on myself on my own, by analyzing my own head and trying to figure out how to fix things, so I was more open to the healing.

Last year was my most turbulent one yet, even compared to my insanity years. Spring and summer was the best ever, cause I had gotten over my anxiety, were moving away from my depression, and things were better than ever between me and my ex so I was living with her again. Then things started to go downhill. A carefully planned trip in August didn't quite turn out the way it had been planned, and my ex got her little mental breakdown in the middle of it all. And then, eventually, things between me and here ended badly as she threw me out of her life after breaking my heart. Which was, of course, one of the worst things I've ever been through. I lost everything, after finally gaining control over my own mind.

I have my days were I meet a rough patch every now and then now, but it is nowhere near how things once used to be. Yes, I do worry that I'll start hearing and seeing things again, cause my head can still have it's golden moments of disconnecting, but I want to believe that it won't happen. I want to believe, that even though I've been out of my mind, I am now safely back inside it again, and will stay there.