#sekasin (about "mental illnesses")

This is something that I wrote quite a long time ago, but never dared to post. There's almost no one who knows this story about me, except the ones who were there and even they have their own point of view of what acutally happened back then. I am the only one with my story, my point of view of my behaviour. And if people now would know of this, they'd see me different. I am scared, I'm a coward. Who would tell this story to someone? Who would admit they'd been straight up insane? I haven't ever dared. Why would I ruin the picture people have of me? 
But right now there's a campaign called #sekasin and it's about talking about mental illnesses and feeling bad. I have to jump on the band wagoon.


Once upon a time I met a friend who changed me. For the better of course.

Before I met her I was a nerv wreck, someone who found trust in knives, someone who relied on violence, someone who drowned in music to stop the pain.

When I was thirteen I hated the person I was, and I got really wild in school, tried sniffing, hit my head in walls, even cut myself sometimes and I was someone who was all alone when she waited for the bus.

People got scared of me, as I became violent and my patience didn't exist. I felt shame and failure. I found a safe heaven from the internet, where I spent all my nights. Watching anime, reading blogs, watching youtube and dreamt away.

I was fourteen when I met her. She got to know I was violent. I hit her a couple of times, she saw the knife and I was so angry with myself for treating someone so precious so badly. And she didn't leave.

She stayed by my side.

In a few months my anger eased. I didn't cut myself anymore, I didn't hit my head in walls and I felt like I had a good friend.

If she didn't become my friend when I was fourteen, worse thing than that could've happened.

Breathe in

Breath out. Everything is okay. It really is.

I can sleep well now. I can smile now. I can love you more than ever.

I have seriously cried every single fucking day in February, and god knows how many times during Janurary.

My dream came true this year and I am happy a lot.

But I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK ISS WRONG WITH ME. I can't handle stress anymore. I get panic attacks.It feels like I might get suicide thoughts.

Small things feel like the biggest thing to me, I cry to everything.

e v e r y f u c k i n g t h i n g.

I feel like people hate me. But I know they don't.

Like, I have put so fucking much time and energy into this one fucking project and nothing I've done is good enough or apprieciated

Dead Boy's Poem

"I live no more to shame, nor me, nor you, I'm sorry"

Born from silence, silence full of it
A perfect concert my best friend
So much to live for, so much to die for
If only my heart had a home

Sing what you can't say
Forget what you can't play
Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes
Walk within my poetry, this dying music
- My loveletter to nobody

I am so graphic.

I can talk about disgusting stuff like blood and puke and piss for how long I want. Others turn green and feel bad when I talk about incest or other controversial topics. Because I describe every detail.

And I try to understand them, but it is hard
Why can't they understand me? Like why can't they understand I need to talk graphic to express myself.

I can't help it

Today!

Today I will get the keys to my apartment.

The kEYS!

*breathe in, breathe out*

This is it. After this day, I will finally move into an apartment together with my boyfriend.
We used to live 42 km from each other. And now, finally, that distance will reduce to whatever meters is between the bedroom and kitchen.

My life is falling into place, finally.
Thank you, 2015.

Life arguments, panic and tears, no more.

I remember when me and my ex once got into a fight through text messages. Because it was an distance relationship so text messages was one of the only way of communicating. This was 2012, and I did not have a smartphone back then so texting and the facebook skype was our way to go.

I got horrible anxiety from the fight, felt a big black clod in my chest, I didn't want to breathe and it really felt like the world was falling on me. I was so scared he would breake up with me.

And he did. The next day he called and said it couldn't go on. That fight was one of the only fights we had, but he said him breaking up was not related at all to the fight.

I cried. A lot. It felt so bad, having your heart broken over a phone call. But what could he do. And what could I do? Kill myself. No. Live on. Yes.

It took some time, but I got over him.
                                                    ~~~~~~


Today I managed to hurt my boyfriend over a whatsapp-message. It was a unintended joke that hurt him, and I couldn't answer because my phone died.

But somehow, while I couldn't reply I knew in my heart that everything will be okay. He won't break up with me over this text message. He won't be mad at me for long.

I apologized like a grown up should apologize when my phone revived and we moved on from that.

It wasn't a big deal at all.

Would 17-year old me think that everything would be okay? Of course not. She would cry and panic. He must break up with me because he got hurt. Or we got into an argument. I must have an affirmation that he loves me. Why would someone love me if I just hurt them???


But it is a part of life! Having arguments and unintentionally hurt someone, that happens, to boyfriends, to anyone!

I can't blame myself anymore.

It wasn't a big deal at all.


And luckily I have grown so much to realise that!