"I want to jump!" - The Story, part 1

The story of my madness. 

I graduated upper secondary school in 2014, and got accepted into university the same year. I was beyond happy. But also lost. So, so lost.

I had broken up with ALL of my friends from upper secondary school. The person I had been in love with rejected me. My best friend from secondary school moved to a town 500km from Helsinki, where I was studying. So I had to gain a completely new social circle.

One of the girls in my new group of friends ask me to come with her to this student organization, and I, who was desperate for new friends and potential lovers, followed her and joined this organization. At first, it was very fun. I got drunk everytime I was there, and everything is more fun when you're drunk, ey?

In November, I got a request if I would like to join the board for this organization of 2015, as a secretary. I agreed on that. To be one board member was the coolest thing in ay organization, and it could lead to an automatic rise in popularity. I had never been popular in my whole life, and I sought the opportunity. Three meetings per month doesn't seem too much?

It turned out it was too much.

I realized already in February 2015 that this was not fun. The pace was hectic, and we had to deal with a lot of things I didn't know of. I soon never said anything at the board meetings. I was silent, all the time. It started to taste sour.

I had by that time two jobs at different drama clubs in different towns, I was taking singing lessons, I had a horse I wanted to be with 7 days per week, I had found my boyfriend who lived in a third town, with whom I wanted to spend time with, and I didn't even live in Helsinki by this time. And oh, I tried to study also.

I soon realized that I don't come along too good with some of the board members. And soon enough, before the summer, every dream of new experiences and fun I've ever had, had turned into ash. I hated being a board member. But the stigma of quitting being a board member is huge. This is supposed to be the best thing you've ever done, why the fuck would you quit? Everyone else did study and work too at the same time, and I thought that I was just stupid.

But I did notice when the anxiety rose.

After the summer of 2015, my anxiety had already taken the best of me. I had to stop taking singing lessons, because there was no time. I felt guilty all the time for not taking a good care of my horse. I dreaded every meeting, and as soon as the meetings were over I ran away. It's no exaggaration. Even without saying good bye I ran away.

I stopped attending parties. I hated partying by that time, because it gave me too much anxiety.

I hated being a board member from the bottom of my heart. I didn't say anything during the meetings, and no one asked my opinion ever. As if I was air.

One boss changed as their mandate was ending and the successor took the organization waaay too seriously. It was a fucking student organization, not the government!! But he didn't seem to see the difference.

I cheated my way through school. I was too tired and sad to focus on studying. I regret cheating, because that whole year of studying was such a waste. I didn't learn anything, as I couldn't concentrate at the lessons. But I blame all this. I was too depressed to care about school at this time.

The year changed into 2016 and a new board was formed. I saw a light in the end of the tunnel. But as a secretary, I had to finish off the protocols. And it was hell. Pure hell, and I'm not exaggarating. It took me almost the whole of January to finish them off, and that was with tears every evening. I cried every day in January. I truly suffered during this time.

And when I proudly (exhaustedly) presented all 40 protocol, and one member of my board looked at me and said:

"But I haven't read them yet. Why did you finish them without me reading them. They're supposed to be finished in February."

I thought I would break down and cry that instant. Everything had to be changed. She walked around as a dictator, and I changed everything, as if I was writing for the government. I cried every day in February. I was so tired and exhausted, and I just wanted to run away from everything.

Yes.... Run away... And so that one feeling came to me. The feeling of wanting to kill oneself.

All of a sudden had I a chance to stop doing this. If I killed myself I wouldn't need to finish the protocol hell. But I didn't want to die, I just wanted to end this suffering. I figured out that I wouldn't have to die, if I tried to kill myself, but failed on purpose and I would have to be assigned to a mental institution, they'd probably find another one to finish the protocols.

I spent many hours thinking about dying. And one day, when I was working on the protocol hell, I snapped. We live on the third floor, and the window can be opened big enough for me to squeeze through. So I planned to do so. I looked down from the window, thinking that I will jump. Today. I want to die now, or injury myself to the state of hospitalization. I can't live with this burden anymore. I must fail everyone, because I can never succeed. Not with this hell.

My boyfriend was at home. He took me in his arms and hugged me the whole evening while I cried hysterically, screaming something about jumping out of the window. (I cried while writing this part, it still hurts my soul to think about how desperate and unhappy I was).

We have never spoken about that incident since.

But I made it! I got the protocol hell finished. You can't ever imagine what hell it was to be part of this board and doing those protocols. And swore I would never join another board ever again.

This was in 2016 and my suffering ended in February 2018. There's more to this unhappy tale. Tomorrow you may read the rest.

Okay, I changed my mind. This is a Part 1. There will be another part 2 out tomorrow night.

One year since the last torment

I have spoken quite a lot about being suicidal in winter -16, but I've never gone into details why or what exactly caused those horrible feelings. It's no secret everything had its beginning from me joining a student organization in 2014.

It's now been one year since I did the final straw for this organization, and I think that after this February, after the great Year Ball, I will break ties forever. After that, I will never attend anything that organization offers.

What was so horrible about that organization and why have I been part of it for four year???, you may ask.

I will tell you. But in another post. It's going to be a post where everything is throughoutly explained. Now, one year after I did the final straw, has my mind finally eased, and I can really think back, organize my memories and feelings, put things in perspective and so on. I've done massive thinking acitivity about this thing, almost as much as with my aggressive period when I was 13 and brought a knife to school.

Thinking and reflecting about the times when you've been at your lowest helps.

Because I want my explanation to be from start to finish and coherent, and therefore not in separate parts, it will take a while to write it. It's going to be a long journey of my madness and recovery. A very long post.

Stay tuned for it, if you want to read how I ended up hysterically crying about wanting to die in February 2016, tune in here in a few days.

Fantastic Fanfictions

I hate that among the common public Fanfictions have a bad reputations. Okay, yes, there are bad ones circling around grotesque sex acts and other idiotic topics, but there are so many wonderful Fanfictions out there, with such high quality.

I'll talk about two FF:s in this post. The first one is called Seven Pieces of Chalk. I read it in 2010 or 2011 the first time, and boy, was it a fantastic reading experience. The lenght of Seven Pieces of Chalk is 80 000 words, and thats as long as a fucking novel. A whole ass novel.

The story is pretty basic, a boy, Arthur, attend a new school and find out that another students has committed suicide some time earlier and this new friends are shattered with guilt. Everyone blames themselves. Arthur decides to find out what the reason for the suicide was, and it's a whole different case than one would think.

It was sooo good! I cried at the end.

This story has ment a GREAT deal for me. I've reread it many times. Just after I met my fiancé, I read it out loud for him everytime he was at my house as a good night tale. I read a 80 000 word long story for him out loud, because I wanted to give him the same thing the story gave me.

It didn't end there. I actually rewrote the whole fanfiction into a play in... 2016? After I've reread my play I realise it's not as good as it can be, and sometimes in the future, I will rewrite it into a better play. I had dreams of actually executing the play with the teenagers I worked with in 2016 but I didn't dare to actually ask and pursue my boss about this. It would've been a really heavy chunk of story to digest for some of the teenages, and the story was maybe too raw for some of them. I even made a cast list for my own enjoyment.

The second story is called Dirty Laundry. I read it this December, and it was fantastic. The premisse was also pretty basic, where this one guy, L, is bisexual and accidentally proves to his mum he'll bring home a boyfriend over Christmas. He doesn't have a boyfriend, and pays his rival K to act as his boyfriend during two weeks over Christmas.

K falls in love with him during these two weeks, but hides it.  L is also interestered in him, but doesn't recorgnize the feelings.

This fanfiction is also over 80 000 words long, with great plot twists, discussion about cultural differences and growing up as a foster child vs growing up in a loving family with many siblings. And homosexuality.

That story would be soo good as a TV-series. Skam, hit the wall, Dirty Laundry would be as good or even better if executed correctly.

I just love both of these stories so much. Both of them are awesome in their own way.

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My head has been up in clouds and down in the deep sea at the same time.

It's 2019. It feels pretty good.

The New Year was spent without anxiety!! None of it!

I've relaxed these days after New Year. Everything feels pretty okay right now.

The year of 2018

I don't know what it was, but straight from January 2018 I started blogging actively, whereas ever since I've had a quite stable blogging routine, where I post around every third day. 83 blog posts this year. Crazy!

So the posts have mostly been about negative stuff, or me roasting things. That's okay. As I wrote late 2017, this blog is poisoned by negativity, and so it shall remain. It sounds really off writing it down, but I need to have this place where I can show all the negative traits/opinions/feelings/whatever because I don't talk about it, or rather, no one has asked me to tell. So I tell myself and strangers through this platform instead.

During the summer I wrote all my Self Reflections, which was a way to understand why I've formed into the person I am today. As I lost my theatre job I've written a lot about that too, because I got mad about it, but even without that incident, I've written about a lot of (drama) acting. I've written about the things making me happy. I've written about dreams I've had during the nights, about music, about my inner world of souls, about everything really, except my daily life. Those blogs are boring anyway. I even made a "vlog" this year! Maybe I'll try that again next year if I dare.

As for readers, I'm happy to see that there are a few daily readers. Not many at all, no, but a few, and I'm thankful for you all. Even if this is a personal blog, I get a smile when I see that someone has read my post. And because I write in English readers from all over Europe has found their way here. Thank you all for reading!

See you all in 2019. Have a safe New Year!

Yo Merry Christmas

There will be a blog post later this week about this year as an active "blogger", but for now there's a few things to conclude:

-my mental wellbeing has worsened during this year. This is the first Christmas in my life that I've spent with active anxiety. It started on the 22:nd. Will probably end the 26:th, when all is over. Right now my mind can't comprehend expectations. Both my own and other's expectations are too much for me, and I turn into this crying mess that am I at the moment.

- i just try to stand my mind, though I'm well aware that it has worsened. I hate it of course. I try to ignore it. Talking about it makes it real. I don't want it to be real. I try to talk with my fiancé about it, but he just doesn't get it, and that makes my own feelings more negatively engaged in the mess, and I don't like when that happens, so I'd rather drown my own anxiety and feelings in myself.

- talking makes it real. writing makes it understandable. that's why i rather write than talk. i don't like talking about it.



other than the fcking anxiety part, the Christmas has been good.

Once I was the culprit, now I'm the authority

A very strange feeling occured to me this week. In the school I'm working in there's been a case of bullying and out of all the teachers in school, I was the one to talk to the student we suspected was behind the naughty things.

It felt very weird doing this talk. When I came up to him and asked him to join me in another room a flash of sheer confusion and suspicion flashed over his face, but he agreed. No defiance, no questioning, he just accepted his fate. He surrendered to me.

I wont go into further details of this case, but it was so weird being this one authority a person who's actually of age surrenders to. I've always had this authority in me, as a born leader, but now it occured to me that even this person, who's done some naughty stuff, believes in me as an authority and trusts in me as one.

I've also been the kid on the other side. The one getting scolded by authority for unaccaptable things, the one surrendering to teachers. I know how it feels, and maybe that's why this case is so three dimensional to me.

I've been the culprit and now I'm the authority.

This is probably what they call growth.