Storytime: My acting journey

During the self reflections I talked about theatre somewhat, and a vital part of me thrives of acting. It would be foolish to omit the benefits of acting in my life.

I had always loved acting. As a small child I created plays and performances that my parent were forced to watch. I loved watching theatre, and my parents were active when bringing us children to plays.

I joined a theatre for the first time the year I turned 9. I had one of my best friends with me, and the association was an amateur theatre with people of all ages. Even if I had only one line in the whole play, I took it very serioulsy. Or was forced to :D You see, the older group mates took the theatre very serioulsy, and they weren't about having an unfocused child there, so I got pretty well disciplined. I learned to focus hard on the games, being present on stage and so on.

Later in life, when I've taught children in acting, I've realized that you notice pretty quickly which ones have a chance of getting really skilled acting, and which ones will never get to even a decent level of acting, no matter how hard they try. I guess I was one of the kids that you notice would get skilled, a fast learner and a fighter of spotlight.

The next year, when going on ten, I got one of the bigger parts of the next play. I shared the spotlight with older girls, skilled teenagers indeed, but I was one of them at the age of ten. I was proud. That the director had noticed my improvements.

I had a paus of acting the following two years. Went back when I was 12, 13 and 14. At age 12 and 13 I got pretty decent roles, but not really anything groundbreaking. Being 14, I got one of the bigger roles in the play and even a song. When the news paper review it, they marked me as one of the greatest talents on the stage. I was chocked, and happy. Four of us actors had been named as the greatest talents on stage, I being the youngest one. The others were 4, 5 and 7 years older than I, and had been acting for a long time. I was so proud. For improving, and growing so much that I was one of the very best on that stage. And I was but a teenager, fourteen years old.

After this, I switched theatre. Not that the previous one was bad, but I needed a change. I found another one in another town, and I knew no one before hand. I had a hard time finding my place in this group, as I didn't come from that town and everyone knew everyone. The first year was also characterized with envy, as there was a group of four girls, all being veri funny and skilled at humour. Everyone laughed with them and thought their plays were fantastic, bc of the humour. I... it's not like I hate humour, but I'm not good at it. I was so envious at them. I wanted to gain the other kids attention too, but couldn't.

After the girls left and I started upper secondary school, I learned to deal with my emotions through acting. Face your anger and violence and frustration, take it out on imaginary characters, scream, shout, kick, hit, throw, punch. I confirmed myself. I started to accept myself.

I found myself. 

Because it ment so much for me, I became very fast very skilled at my art. Nuances in mime game, changing my voice, the muscles in my face, I could control everything. It was like finding new skills everytime. My imagination brought me far.

This ofc made some of the group mates fear me. I've heard later on that at least two girls were scared of me, and I know why, because I once was a huge jerk to one of them when scolding her for not being good enough in front of everyone else. Not my proudest moment.

But I have been proud of myself. For feedback. For almost making one group mate cry when I acted out an emotional scene. For making the parents of one girl feel fear (i.e being so convincing when acting). For having the teacher stare at me in pure chock after a play. For making people feel emotions inside when watching me. 

When I was 18 I joined another theatre, but it didn't feel as right. I didn't get as much freedome there. But I found one very important contact from there. I also had a theatre club myself in the place I grew up, where I held the classes and me and my dad make the stage props for the shows. 14 kids. I did it for three years, and it was lovely.

After I "outgrew" the association, I got the job as an assistant there. I was so hyped. And scared. Scared that my freedom would be suppressed, that the teacher (now my boss) would try to bind me to norms. She didn't. She knew me. She gave me freedom.

 "They need a leader. You go and make a play with them. They're followers and you're a leader. They need someone strong enough to make a good antagonist. They need you."

Four amazing years went by. I had my freedom. I saw children grow into teenagers and teenagers grow into wonderful young adults. I grew up myself. I knew I was liked, if not loved. What I did ment so much for the kids and I saw myself in some of them. Acting wasn't just about having the main role or being the loudest, or even being the funniest. Acting was about finding out who you are and what it can do for you. I've guided stage frightened teenagers and seen them overcoming their fears, I've shouted out of happiness when a child developes and make a fantastic performance, I've got flowers and hugs, I've laughed with them and told both dreams and truths and and and

at that place I've gotten many bruises as big as my fists , I've hit my hand until it bled, I've fucking dislocated my knee for a role, everything for characters and emotions. For making the best performances ever.

I've been a father who raped his daugther, I've been a raped daughter, I've been a human trafficker, I've been a murderer, I've been murdered, I've been someone who castrated men, I've been an abuser and been abused, I've been people with halluciantions, I've been the hallucinations, I've been a soldier and a drunk ass. I've been way more than I can remember.

A total of 8 years I've been at that place. Until now.

No story lives forever. This story has ended.

But the relationship between me and theatre is tighter than ever. I'm SO close at getting into a professional production. Fingers crossed.

The final self reflection, S.R 6 part 2

A great desperation and confusion hit me after the Abi Cruise. I was basically on my own now. No school to attend to, no friends to hang out with. After gymnasiet, I was going to start university and find a new group of friends and and and

I managed pretty well in my finals and even if I spoke politely with my friends at school, the relationship remained very cold. What was I going to do? All of my friendships have just collapsed, ever since I was a child, with very few expecations.

What hurt my soul was the fact that I was going to end my theatre journey at the place I had been at for four years. The place where I had saved myself. The place where my anger and pain had a purpose, the purpose of giving life to characters that could do the things I never had done. Where she was born, my alter ego. I was pretty desperate during that spring, I didn't want it to end, no, no, just one more year and that made me a jerk towards the others, BUT this one girl approached me anyways and asked me out.

After the very last performance (different character, not my lil babe) I hung out for 1,5 HOURS together with this girl and the teacher at the place. Just talking. Just... talking to someone who was willing to listen to me. Both of them.

After graduating school my true confusion started. I was in love with a lot of people at the same time, one of them being a person of the same sex as I am (no, I don't label myself as bi, but yeah). I had some one night stands and I made out with people everytime I was drunk. I partied quite a lot during these six months. I hung out with some bad people at times, but managed to save myself from their grip.

I was lost in myself.

When university started, I was sure not to fake myself. Despite this, I got friends <3 with whom I still hang out with :D Finally. And I got the job as an assistant at the theatre I loved, so my mental health was stabilized, for the time being.

This is the last self reflection.  I started blogging during 2014, so if you scroll back far enough you can read about those times. During those times, I wrote quite cryptically, about myself and stuff, but I let you readers fill in the puzzle yourselves. Hint: I developed depression and that you can see pretty well.

Until next time.

S.R 6 part 1

In the summer between 2:nd and final grade, the abi year, I met a new friend, and that saved me for the rest of the semester in school.

It was now reaaally obvious that my "friends" in school were my friends just because they couldn't get rid of me. I bet we all thought the same thing, "just one year left and we don't have to deal with this anymore".

I was strong, I never let them "fade" me, I initiated a heck a lot of stuff so our relationships would be a little smoother than they were, I was.not.going.to.be.alone.they.were.not.allowed.to.leave.me

Luckily I had this new friend who let me join his friends crew. They all went to another school that was specialized in arts, and I hanged out there with them in their school quite a lot. And felt out of place, bc we were not in the same school and it made me regret that I didn't apply to that school instead of the one I went to (not that I wanted to apply to that school when I was 15, but I still felt a silent anger for not going to that school).

Holding inside anger and pain is not good in the long run. I was exhausted from being strong when the announcement of the Abi Cruise came around. My friends chose cabins aaand I was left outside. I couldn't be strong anymore, it hurt too much.

This was the first time in my life I told someone about my anxiety and sadness. I had chosen a friend I trusted and told about how sad I was about the cabins, that I didn't have anyone to share a cabin with. I cried so much and slammed my head against the lockers, it was bad okay to tell someone. My chest hurt so badly from admitting I wasn't strong enough.

My friends rearranged the cabins so I could join them. I'm thankful for it. But not once did they ask how I felt, am I sad, do we need to do something for you, maybe you should talk to someone etc etc. They did not care in the end.

The cruise was marvellous, thanks to my friend from the other school. I had so so so much fun.

But I knew it was over with my old friends.

S.R 5 part 2

The summer of 2012 was the summer I went abroad to England on a language camp. It had its weaknesses, but overall it was very fun. I met a Swede on that camp and we started a relationship. He was very different from the person I am, and didn't like metal music. He was, in hindsight, too different from me.  I was suppose to change myself for him. I did it a lil' bit, I even tried to listen to Swedish House Mafia (but oh god, it was such horrible music I couldn't).

The relationship between me and my friends at school had gotten a toll. It was almost invicible, but there, like a spider web we were all caught in. They did not like me anymore. Not as much as last year. I ignored all the signals.

My Swedish boyfriend broke up with me. Yet again, I felt someone punching spikes through my heart. I was now 17 and had even better coping mechanics so I survived.

I can't remember very well anything from this period from school. I guess it was okay. Maybe.

But, my life got a change after the Old Prom. A boy, one year under me, contacted me. He had seen me dancing, and prob got very interested in me from the first sight. We sexted/texted a lot, and I got feelings for him. He was a metal head. He dressed differently from the other boys, he was kind of punky and lil trashy. He was someone like me.

And then I realized that I can't fake myself anymore. Before I knew it, I had become myself again. This loud, fuck everything-attitude was back. It felt wonderful. Even if we never started a relationship, this boy and I, I'm grateful for that he made me accept myself again.

Another thing that completely threw me back to the core of myself was a certain character I acted as at the theatre. I came up with her myself, with the help of the group mates.

She (the character) became my alter ego. She was violent, self harmed, and planned a murder. Like I had been. I felt such an attraction to this wrecked character that I sometimes became her. The lines between acting and... well, not acting, were spider web thin. I was her, and she was me, and in an alternative universe that would've been me if I hadn't found friends in seventh/eight grade. Dressed up as the character I saw myself in the mirror. I cut myself for this character. I relouded all anger and hate I've ever felt into this character.

Maybe I had been a ticking bomb all the time and this character took the blow? I didn't have to be violent, she had to. It was genious.

And then summer.

The greatest panic attack I've ever had

I totally forgot to tell you about the worst panic attack I've had in the last post.

I was 16 at the time, and home all alone. My parents were watching theatre in another town, and I was all chilling, watching a movie at home. When the movie ended I got the sudden instinct that something is wrong, and before I knew it my brain told me that my parents are dead. I tried to call them both, but neither answered, and boom, full blown panic attack. It got so bad that I was shaking, trembling, hyperventilating and I couldn't even walk straight.

And that's when I decided to fucking walk to this town, searching for them. It was minus degrees outside, and all I wore was my pyjamas and a jacket, and I had fucking Crocs on my feet, when I grabbed a flashlight and started to walk. That's the closest to insanity I've ever been. Being so convinced by the brain that they've died and I had to walk like 20 km in minus degrees to search for them. The feeling was unbelievebly strange, like walking without being "there". Like someone evil had taken control over your body. It felt like what I would assume a psychosis would feel like.

I finally, after some minutes, gained control again and just cried. But when my parents came home, I had dried my tears and I never told them about what had happened.

S.R 5 part 1

Upper secondary school. I knew no one beforehand. Exiting and scary at the same time.

I am though a social person, so during the first day, I managed to find five girls to hang around with. They were fun and okay, but no one shared my interest. No one was into acting, horses, fantasy, reading, deep conversations, being a lil childish sometimes, metal music, alternative clothing, make up  etc etc. None of that. It was like... they hadn't any interests. Two of them had done dancing, but there it ended. It felt pretty weird having friends with no hobbies.

And for the rest of the school? I managed to kind of get the label as the weird one the very first month. We were at our "class camp" and we played a game where one should shout the class mates name in a random order.

Well, I'd done acting for six year by that time, I knew how to play theatre games. But. I had always done it with ppl better than myself, and had learned how to win. And when it was my time, I shouted the other guys name. Loud.

We were by a beach and, god, my scream echoed a good ten seconds. Everyone stared at me like I was an alien. They were not used to theatre games.

So I became the weird freak (kinda against my will) of my year aaand that made me change myself against my will. I wasn't accepted as the one I truly was, and the only solution was to become someone they accepted. I didn't really change my clothing style, more my behaviour. Don't be too over the top, don't be loud, don't be someone who's sticking out too much etc

It was hard. Capturing myself behind iron bars. It sucked.

So this is where I learned to use acting as my defence. At the place I was at that time, a certain theatre, I realized how to bend the rules to my own benefit. I guess the teacher realized why I did the things I did, but she never said against me or put me down. So that was the place where I was myself, where I acutally found myself. And yes, I was over the top, I got a lil aggressive again, but oh, man, it felt soo good. Showing emotions of anger, fear, sorrow, aah, that was what I needed so badly. I was saved, I had saved myself.

For now...

See ya later
Next time, summer between 1 and 2 grade + 2 grade in upper secondary school

Self reflection 4 part 2

Sooo, summer between eight and ninth grade.

My boyfriend from the theatre broke up with me, leaving me with a scarred soul once again. But I had better coping methods this time and did not plan to brutally murder him, though it hurt like cold ice in the chest.

And I got accepted by Jesus this summer (2010). Haha. Lol. Not. I was so deep in my anti-christ period that I resented everything the church had to offer. I hated religion and god. I was, by no means, a satanist or anything, but I hated the Christianity during this summer. I still got confirmated (and wore a black dress to the service), though I cringed hard at the thought of everyone being loved. Because I was unlovable.

Ninth grade started. I coloured my hair black and bought a liquid eyeliner (more beautiful than pencil eyeline around the eye lol).

And one of the things that have saved me from eternal demise and suicide was my mothertounge teacher. I used to talk to her many times a week, talking about people I hate and stuff. She just listened to me, and accepted me as who I was. She was kinda like a "therapist" to me, and I swear, it was soo important for me to talk to her. I loved mother tounge so much.

Even if I had friends I couldn't help but notice towards the spring that I'm not anymore that "popular" in my group of friends. This is at the same time I connected deeper with my own class, and I fell in love once again with a cute and nerdy guy from my music class. That's probably why I ignored all the signals.

I performed in front of the school once more, this time with my class and because of everyone else being cowards I had to dance a heavily sexualised dance almost all by myself in front of the whole school. Not that it bothered me, I like being on a stage. But if my mother saw what moves I did, she'd have "The Talk" with me.

We were to choose our next school this spring. Gymnasium (upper secondary school) or yrkesskola (vocational school) and for me it was a clear gymnasium. But which one? I chose a school in the capital and it turned out that none of my friends chose the same. My best friend E went to a school in the same city, my friend A went to another town, a few stayed in our town and another one went to a school 200km from us.

I didn't actually feel that sad that we were all splintered. It felt more exiting, like, I'll now go on my own adventures, find new friends and paths.

But did it go as planned? Tune in on this blog in a few days (idk when I'll write it but soon) to find out if my heart gets shattered again in Self reflection 5 part 1? ":D"

That was the worst commercial speech ever. Lol.

(S.R 5 will have two parts and will be a view over 1 and 2 grade in upper secondary school, while the abi year (final year) will be S.R 6 split in two part (or one master post idk))

Self reflection 4 part 1

Lol.


Eight grade started and I was horrified. No friends in my new fucking class. And I did what I had to do, befriend the new girls from the class. I would otherwise wreck myself.

And guess what? Three girls became my friends. I got, not only one, but THREE new friends! Hallelujah. Now I had friends from my class, and my old ones from the other classes.

And what made my life a lot more happier was the fact that I bought a pony. I did now work out every day, had a clear purpose in life and cut down on the hours spent on my computer.

I was part of a writing club; we were only four participants and we had really fun, and from there I found even more friends! I was in a theatre group during the eight grade spring and fell in love with another one from the group and we became a couple.

But I had still not gotten rid of my violent tendencies. And I tried harder than ever to become less violent after a "fight" with my friend A, who was my bestie in seventh grade. She teased me a bit, and I got a rage attack. I remember how I tried to hit her in the face, but she was faster than I and grabbed my hand, shouting in my face: "Now, stop! Stop hitting people or I won't be your friend anymore!"

That was the first time anyone ever had commented my violence. Everyone else had only given angry stares (neither my parents nor teachers knew about what I've done) and A was the first one to say back. So I fought hard to stop hitting ppl (which is pretty tough). I fought hard against random violent impulses, like stabbing other people/animals with scissors and stuff. Yeah. That wasn't fun.

Gore, blood and death had become part of me. I love(d) horrifying stuff, I lived on it. And guess how furious I got when, me and my (goth) friend were to perform on our school talent show a "dance theatre" to the song "Let the record show" by Emilie Autumn where we a) wanted to kill eachother b) I was about to hang myself c) lot of shit happened and

we weren't allowed to do all of those stuff. We were censored. That made me angry, as the teacher said "Think about those fighting thought like that, it's not nice for them" and I'm all thinking "WELL I'M FIGHTING RN THINK ABOUT ME THIS IS THERAPY FOR FUCKS SAKE"

Yeah, the performance still scared shit out of ppl, so t'was nice ":)"

This was eight grade in a nutshell. The worst was over, for now. I became happier. I loved.