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.