10 things you don't know about me

I have stolen this idea from http://www.life-collection.com/. Here are ten things that you don't know about me:

One 

I used to be a huge Take That-fan. For those of you who don't know: Take That were the most successful boyband from the UK in the 90s. They became famous in the early 90s and had a huge fan-following. Maybe you know who Robbie Williams is, he left the band in 1996 to persue a solo-career. They are actually still huge, Robbie was back with them some years ago and they have been selling millions of records. Anyway, I was deeply in love with Mark Owen. He was the cutest of them all in my opinion. I had hundreds of Take That-posters on my wall, honestly, my room was like a crazy fangirl shrine. I had a huge collection of articles, photos, CDs, you name it.  I got a mental breakdown when Robbie Williams had left the band. I saw them live once, in 1995. I kind of grew out of that phase when I was about 16. I still went to see Robbie Williams, Gary Barlow and Mark Owen solo in concert though. I'm not too ashamed of my fangirl-period. I was young, I didn't know better. And the music rescued me many many times. I haven't listened to their music in ages though.

Two
I told a huge lie when I was 15 years old. First off, I don't like lies. I'm all about honesty. That's actually one of the most important thing for me in a relationship and in friendships. So, I was 15 years old and I was feeling like crap. I was fat, ugly, I felt stupid, I was bullied all the time at school and I didn't have much self-esteem. I wanted attention. Now that I look back at it, I could have gotten attention by just telling the truth about my situation. I should have just told someone about the abuse at home, about the sexual abuse I had to endure by some guys at school, about the constant bullying and name-calling. It all started with my French teacher telling me off for not paying any attention and never doing my home-work. I looked for an excuse. And I told her that I was pregnant! I told her that because being pregnant would mean that I'd be worried and anxious and really not able to focus on school. I told her that I wanted to get an abortion. She believed me. But somehow it slipped out and everybody at school knew what I had told her. That meant that I had to lie to my friends too. It all turned into a huge mess. Lies will always come out as lies eventually. After a while my friends accused me of lying and I told them the truth. I'm not proud of this. I have no excuse but well, there were many reasons. I wanted attention, I wanted people to realize how bad I was doing and I wanted to be like everyone else, because everyone else was talking about sex and whom they have done it with. I was good at lying back then. I deceived my gym-teacher by wearing a bandage on my arm for three weeks, telling him I was injured and couldn't participate in class. These days I'm really bad at lying and I bascially never lie. I think it was just my teenage-hormones or something.

Three
The thing that most hurts me when it comes to my years in Germany is the bullying I had to go through. It wasn't enough that I was beaten at home, it wasn't enough that guys sexually abused me. No, I had terrible nicknames. And those hurt so bad because they were about my appearance. I got enough bullying at home about how stupid I was. About what a bad person I was because I don't just adapt. The first nickname I had was "truck". My sister was "mini-truck". It was all about that we were a bit chunky. I have always been overweight but when I had that nickname I wasn't that huge. The second name I got was "Gonzo". Do you know the character from the Muppets show? The blue one with the huge nose? I don't think I have a huge nose but yeah, it's a bit on the big side. It's because I'm half-Iranian I guess. Then there was "Alf". I'm sure you know who that is. The nose again. And the last one is "penguin". And no, not because of the cute and awesome animals, no, it was because of the penguin in Batman played by Danny DeVito. I was goth (still am), was overweight, short and had a huge nose. That nickname hurt me so much! Because the character is male and supposed to be ugly. That name followed me until I moved to Sweden. Guys were appalled by me because everyone told them to be! There was a rumour once, that I had slept with one guy. But I hadn't! Anyway, I remember one of the "elite-goths" pulling him to the side and telling him off, about how stupid he is to sleep with me, how that would lower his social status. It hurt me so much!

Four
I've studied three and a half years at university in Kiel to become a teacher. I was to become a teacher in English and Social Studies. I didn't want to become a teacher. I just didn't know what else to study and everybody kept telling me that I need to study something that leads to a job. And I thought teacher will always be needed. I didn't suck at my studies, I passed all exams. I even did two internships at schools and taught pupils (up to grade 10). But I didn't love the idea of becoming a teacher. It felt like I was going to get stuck in dead end. You are a teacher and that's how far you will advance. I didn't have the passion. I got really good grades in English (I really was an A-student and even tutored other people) and I was thinking about just studying English. I was working on two Bachelor papers when I decided to move to Sweden. So I dropped out of university. That was probably for the best. Now I feel like I want to teach on another level, at university, to teach people who actually want to learn something must be so much more rewarding than teaching kids who are forced to listen to you.

Five
I used to be on a swimming team. I learnt how to swim when I was 5 years old. And I just continued going to classes. I loved it! I usually hate sports, even watching others doing sports. I somehow don't feel like I'm a sport's person. That has a lot to do with my body image. When you are overweight you really avoid sports because you probably will suck at it. I'm also quite short so yeah, I have always sucked at sports. I even had to take special classes in elementary school because I sucked at it. But I love swimming. You feel weightless and it's so easy to move in water. I used to swim in competitions (never been the winner though, always second of third), I have all kinds of badges and I even taught small children how to swim. Well, I quit all that when I was 14 years old. We had moved and the pool was too far away from where we lived. These days I never go swimming. Social anxiety and low self esteem prevent me from that. But if I had my own pool, where no one could see me, I would swim every day! I miss swimming.

Six
I don't like sex. There are tons of reasons for that. I have been sexually abused and raped. I hate my body and really feel uncomfortable when someone sees me naked. I can't let go, I can't relax, I need to be in control. I hadn't had consentual sex before the age of 23. I just never said yes to anyone. There were guys trying to get me into bed, despite all the bullying. I have some funny stories to tell. And I had had lots of petting, blow jobs and all of that. But I just never had "real" sex. I have never had an orgasm with another person. Ever. It's the let go-thing. And I'm apalled by sweat and when another person sweats around me I just can' t get turned on. All that doesn't mean that I'm asexual. I can get horny, I like to play with myself, I get attracted to people. But when it comes to me getting involved into something, I'm blocked. My boyfriend and I rarely have sex. It can go months without it. I can't believe he is actually staying with me, most men probably would have left me. I somehow prefer being on my own and getting it over with, than being with someone else where I have to be in control all the time because I don't want to seem disgusting.

Seven
I have had way too many boyfriends and girlfriends. Honestly, from the age of 12 until the age of maybe 19 I wasn't single for longer than a week. I must have dated over 25 different people.  And I dated anyone who was interested in me. Most of those people were really "below" me. I don't mean it in an arrogant way. They actually were. One guy, M, was four years older than me (I was 12), he was high all the time and he eventually stole my bike and left me. Another one was a nazi who didn't even finish elementary school. And another one was an unemployed alcoholic. The list goes on and on. There was one guy, really only one guy, that sticks out as a positive, A. He was my age, we shared many interests, we discussed poetry and philosophy, liked the same music and were both kind of rebellic. We dated for six months which is the longest relationship I had had before my current one (which has lasted for 8 1/2 years so far). But A is gay. I have been his only girlfriend ever. After me he only dated guys. That really was bad for my self-esteem. I think I was kind of drawn to the troubled guys who treated my badly because of how my childhood was. A violent drug-addict seemed like the perfect man for me because my father is that way.

Eight
I don't like children. It's not that I hate them. They can be cute and they can be really funny. Some can bring a smile to my face. We have this one Japanese family in our building and they have a little girl and she is super-cute. She always asks me questions and is really bold about things. Great girl. But I don't have any maternal instincts. I don't want to be a mother. I don't want to be responsible for a little being. I also don't connect with children. It's kind of weird but I don't know how to adapt to their level. I always feel condenscending when I talk to a child in child-language. I think it has a lot to do with me having to babysit our neighbour's baby when I was 10 years old. The baby just didn't stop crying and I didn't know what to do. I hate screaming and crying children! I want them to stay away from public transport, restaurants, cafés and supermarkets.

Nine
My biggest hobby is letter-writing. I'm talking about actual letters and not e-mails. I handwrite my letter on beautiful stationary. I have around 50 penpals from all over the world. It's such a great way to learn things about different cultures and to make friends. I really like that it's old school. So I spend most of my evenings sitting in front of the TV or listening to music and writing letters. I write really long letters, not just one page but 20, 30, 40 pages. My penpals are my friends. I have met a few of them in real life and I care about all of them a lot.

Ten
I like putting labels on myself. I know that most people don't like that because they want to be individuals and don't want to be seen as someone just adapting to something. Well, I think my labels make me an individual. I love that I'm goth. I'm an atheist, a socialist, a humanist, a LGBT-supporter. And I especially love calling myself an intellectual. It's something that I have only discovered when I moved to Sweden. I have never been good at school. I didn't have lots of good grades. So I thought I wasn't educated. But I read at home. I read lots and lots of books. I've always had an interest in philosophy, history, politics, culture. I just never saw myself as one of the people who know a lot. But now I know that I'm smart and educated, I voice my (educated) opinions. I get excellent grades at university. I have two degrees and I'm eager to go even further.  It has nothing to do with being arrogant. I would probably be just as happy if I had realized that I was great at gardening. Being educated, smart and intellectual just is me. I'm happy about knowing who and what I am.

I'm trying, really trying, I promise

I'm anxious and restless. But that's nothing new, is it? At least it's not the kind of restlessness I had when I tried to get off the Propavan. I have slept 9 hours last night and that's exactly what I needed. So at least I'm not too exhausted today. I still feel really hungover though. As always I had lots of things planned for today but I really haven't done much yet. I just washed the dishes and tidied up the the bedroom. Let's hope there's more that I can do today. I have a lot to write, a letter, reply to an email and finish a short story I have been working on for some time now. 

The anxiety feels a bit increased which could have to do with that I'm supposed to get my period soon. All my mental issues get worse when I'm pms-ing. My period hasn't been exactly regular lately though. So I don't know. The day before yesterday I was really suicidal which also tends to happen before I get my period. So I just hope that's the reason why. I  read up on suicide-statistics and some discussions on why suicide is selfish. But I'm not in that state of mind today. I have actually started planning my mum's visit. We don't have any money, she doesn't have any money. So we have decided to fill the car with petrol with our last savings so we can get out while she is here. I was thinking about doing a picnic somewhere in a park, taking a walk somewhere in nature, on my boyfriend's birthday we'll visit his favourite café. Yesterday I have also been checking up on exhibitions and museums which are free. I have seven days to fill with things. We'll stock up on food before she comes so we don't have to eat out. My mum hangs a lot on chatrooms on the internet so she can use my netbook. I already have fixed a cable through a wall into the guestroom so she'll have internet there. I think we'll somehow make this week work. My boyfriend is also off from work that week so if I'm having a bad day, the two of them can go out together. I'm never happy about my mum visiting. I have to be pretend to be okay. And my routines get disturbed. I have to get up early in the morning for instance. I have to be social. I have to go out. But yeah, she only comes around once a year so it's okay.

I have been outside the appartment yesterday! For the first time in five weeks. I just needed to get some things at the supermarket, beauty things, hairdye. And it felt good to put some make-up on, fix my hair, put some decent clothes on. For the last five weeks I have been running around in long shirts and leggings.My boyfriend told me several times how good I was looking It went alright although I had a panic attack in the parking lot. So my weeks of isolation are over! Next week my social worker is back from his vacation so I'll have to meet him once a week. Well, but I'm still having trouble meeting friends. I still haven't replied to A's message. And yesterday P asked if he could come over but I told him I was busy. I hate myself for that! 

At the moment I'm trying to force myself to call my father. His grandmother has given my mum two very expensive necklaces. She is from Iran and she visited us once when I was maybe 10 years old. That's the only time I have ever seen her. She died in the early 90s. So those necklaces are for my sister and me, for the day when we get married. I'm getting married in August and I really want that necklace. I have nothing else to remind me of my Iranian grandmother. So I told my mum I want her to bring it along when she comes to visit us. But my father refuses  to let her take the necklace. He thinks that she wants to sell it. My father is delusional! She would never do that! So he told her he wants to give it to me. But I haven't been in Germany for three years and I'm not planning to go there any time soon. And he knows that. So he said he'll send it instead. As if that was safe?!? So I need to call him (should have done that days ago) and tell him that I want my mum to give me the necklace when she is here. I just don't have the courage to pick up the phone right now. I know it's going to be a difficult situation. He'll badmouth my mother. But I want that necklace because I want to have something to remember my grandmother by!

I have an appointment with my psychiatrist next Tuesday. I'm a bit scared of that meeting to be honest. I mean, I haven't done anything he had told me to do. I still haven't tried a whole Valium one more time. I haven't taken the Seroquel. And I have been isolating myself, been suicidal and didn't call any helpline or asked for help. I just know that he'll give me that disappointed look. I wonder if he will say that it seems like I don't want any help. Or if he'll say that he can't help me anymore. I have even thought about cancelling the appointment. I just hate to admit that I'm complicating things.

I'm having my third cup of coffee for today. It's time for lunch/dinner soon. I think I want to read until then. So far I'm not hating this day yet.

Scary incident

The other day something really scary happened. My initial reaction to scary incidents is silent panic but outer indifference. I can't show feelings, I have lots of feelings, but I just don't show them. It's called affect-phobia,. fear of feelings. I'm afraid of what they do to me, what they make me do. I often just push my feelings away. I want my head and reason to lead me. I don't trust my feelings. The feelings I surpress are the ones that could be classed as "negative", anxiety/fear, sadness and anger. People can't tell when I'm having a panic attack or strong anxiety. I can hide it well. That has often lead to the problem that many professionals haven't taken me seriously because I don't act like a drama-queen. I bascially never cry in front of others. I don't cry much on my own either. And I never scream at people. I don't know how to express anger. When someone is having an argument with me I'm always calm and reasonable, which often makes others even more furious because they see me as condescending. But when I'm down, really down, like totally down, I can't control my feelings. I shake because of fear, I can't control my restless body, I can't control my breathing. I cry, cry, and cry. I scream of fear and inner turmoil. Those moments are rare. Those moments are dangerous. That's when my emotions have taken over, let me believe they are my reason and lead me to do dangerous things. Like trying to commit suicide, hurt myself.

Anyway, so the scary incident the other day. I was sitting on the sofa, my cat in my lap, reading a book. My boyfriend was taking a nap after work. And our room-mate was in his room, surfing on the internet. Suddenly there is a lot of commotion coming from his room. Lots of things falling down, crashing on the floor. And a strange noise that I first thought was him laughing. More things crashed on the floor. My cat got really scared and went hiding under our bed. I knocked on P's door but he wouldn't answer. So I opened the door and there he was, laying on the floor, having seizures! Oh my gosh! I didn't know what to do. His upper body was under the bed so I couldn't really see his face. I woke up my boyfriend and together we tried speaking to P. I wanted to check if he had swallowed his tongue (I once read that that can happen to people who have seizures) but still couldn't see his face. I only saw his legs who moved like a half-dead fish on dry land. Then he fainted and was unconscious. We called for an ambulance. I was somehow freaking out. P woke up and tried to get up. We tried to tell him what had happened but he didn't understand a word of what we were saying. He was totally lost. All he said was: "What?". The ambulance came and they took him to the hospital. He had injured his shoulder badly. They also checked his head and kept him for a night for observation.

He had fainted before. And he had had seizures before. So they suspect that he has epilepsy. They will start doing tests next week. But they also suspect that his antidepressant (Wellburtin) has caused the seizures. He drinks quite a lot of alcohol, he kind of self-medicates with it. And that doesn't work together with the Wellburtin. So he'll have to contact his psych-doctor next week so he can stop taking the antidepressant. And well, he'll try to stay away from alcohol for a while. And that probably sucks a lot for him because it's Midsommar in Sweden today, the day of the year where all Sweden get really really drunk. So he'll stay at home with us, we'll have a typical Midsommar-meal and then maybe watch some movies. No alcohol involved. I mean, we have vodka and wine at home but I don't think we'll drink any of it. I rarely drink alcohol (I used to drink a lot of it when I was younger though) these days, I don't want to lose control

This whole thing scared the shit out of me. I thought for a second that P was going to die. So after he had left with the ambulance, I actually cried for a bit. And then I manically cleaned his room. Lots of stuff got crashed and I thought he should have a clean and nice room when he comes back from the hospital. It is not just that I thought he was about to die. It's also the indifference I felt in that moment. And I wonder if that indifference was just shock or maybe my affect-phobia. Well, I cried afterwards. I guess I was just in shock.

And another thing: if the antidepressant has caused those seizures, how much should I really trust that meds will do me good? This is just another example of things that contribute to my fear of psych-meds. Psych-meds have bad side-effects. I have seen it once again. But without meds I won't get any better. I think P has similar thoughts. He said that he doesn't want to try out another antidepressant for now. Once he is off the Wellburtin, he wants to stay away from psych-meds. Which I know is bad for him as he has several psych-diagnosis. So if I see that it's bad for him, why can't I convince myself that it's bad for me too?

Out of order - but somehow functioning

I've been really uninspired during the last few days hence the lack of posts. I have discovered a website where you can play old Nintendo games for free (nesforever) so I have been playing Super Mario Bros 3 all weekend long. And I really didn't do much else. It actually helped me a bit to get out of the dark valley of depression because it kept me busy. I didn't have to think much, I could just focus on pressing the right button and making the little plumber jump. I have gotten tired of the games now though because I can't get past a certain level and that makes me frustrated. So now I'm trying to tackle reality again, no more brainkilling games and no more wasting whole days with sitting in front of the computer.

Yesterday I went to the Peter Murphy-concert in Stockholm. He was playing Bauhaus-songs and I really couldn't have missed that. The moment we arrived at the venue someone called out my name and some of my friends were sitting outside, eating kebab. Don't people usually eat kebab after a show?!? Anyway, we went in and there were lots of people and I started to panic. I felt sick to my stomach and I was sure I was going to throw up. But I'm good at holding up a mask and I don't think anyone noticed. Actually, I was close to panic during the whole night. I tried to push the feeling away. I told myself that I won't throw up. I have never thrown up because of a panic attack and only once because of anxiety. But the horror-scenarios were in my head, the embarassment I would feel if I threw up in a crowded place, how everyone would stare at me and think that I'm disgusting. Despite that I actually enjoyed myself. I goofed around with my friends, talked with a lot of people and it felt good to be social.And I felt pretty. This seldomly happens. I am really ashamed of my body because of the huge weight-gain. And yeah, my stomach looked big last night but I didn't care much. I had a jacket on that hid it a bit. My hair looked amazing, the purple turned out well and I fixed my goth-mohawk. I also loved the dress I was wearing and my make-up was perfect. So yeah, I felt pretty and somewhat confident. And it was kind of cool that a lot of people asked me if they could take a picture of me. Oh, and the concert was fantastic. I was in the first row and I was often just closing my eyes, listening to the music, singing along. There were some awkward moments though. There was no barrier between the stage and the crowd so I was really really close to the band and Murphy. And I don't like someone singing and looking into my eyes. And that happened a few times. That's really the kind of attention I hate getting. Yeah, and all the time I was thinking about how embarrassing and catastrophical it would be if I threw up right on stage. I also zoned out a few time, I slipped into some kind of dissociativ state. Still, I enjoyed myself. Our friend K came with us after the show because she lives close to where we live so we dropped her off at her house. We talked about cats. Random, I know.

I'm really exhausted now. My cat woke me up at 9 a.m. which is basically the middle of the night for me. That little monster hopped around on me and when I had gotten up she went to her favourite chair and fell asleep. So I have been chatting with people on Facebook. And I have read up on streaming. It is not illegal in Sweden to watch streamed film and series. So I'll be busy the next few years, watching movies. And I think I'll start with the third season of the Walking Dead tonight.

I have tried out the Diazepam. And it felt like I couldn't breathe. I don't know if that was due to the pill, my fear around new meds and or the bleach in my hair. I had bleached my hair earlier that day and I can get a bit wuzzy from the bleach. It was probably a combination of the three. I also felt really dizzy and my arms and legs didn't really follow me. I was basically in bed for an hour, hyperventilating. I am sensitive to medication after all so I thought the Diazepam was too strong for me and it would stop breathing at any second and just drop dead. I just fell asleep after a while. I will give it another go. Next time my anxiety is really really high, I'll take another one. And I'll have my boyfriend around in case I really stop breathing. I think I just overreacted and panicked. Diazepam is stronger than Oxazepam after all.

Tomorrow T will come over. He will have three weeks off in July and asked me if I want another person visiting me during those weeks or if it is enough with a person I can call in case I need help. I don't think I want to meet yet another person and T and I only sit and talk anyway so I'll be fine with a number I can call. On Friday I have an appointment with my psychiatrist. I have decided I don't want to try out the Lithium because 1. I don't have an official bipolar-diagnosis 2. I'm afraid of side-effects, especially the weight-gain, and I have always ended up in hospital when I tried a new med 3. I don't trust that there will be any follow-ups when he is not working at the center anymore and I'll have yet another psychiatrist and 4. I have PCOS and I'm afraid that it will mess up my thyroid. I don't know what he will say to this. It might seem like I don't want any help and that's not true. I just want the right kind of help and I am too afraid of new meds. I'm quite sure that he will be disappointed and a bit helpless because there basically isn't much he can do. We'll see how that goes.

Today I still need to exercise and prepare lunch/dinner/food. I also want to try to write a poem or a short text for my psychiatrist's book. I'm just so damn tired! And my body is really hurting. I'm not used to being outside, I'm not used to meeting people, and I'm not used to stand for hours and then dance for hours. And I'm allergic to my hairspray so I'm sneezing all the time. I should try to get my hair down too. But I'll start with the exercise and then try to write something. I'd rather be in bed and sleep.

Alone at home

I'll be alone at home for most of the day. I'm not too sure if that's good or bad. I think it will be nice to have some me-time but I'm also quite aware of the fact that it could lead into total chaos. For some weird reason I have the urge to be destructive, to cut myself or something. But as I really only have cut myself about 10 times in my life or so I really don't think it will happen. I often have the urge though. It's mostly because I have so strong anxiety and I want the pain to be killed by another pain. Sometime it's just a strong self-hate and I want to cut myself because I feel like I'm a bad person and I need to punished.

The last few days have been terrible. The lack of sleep just made me supervulnerable. But last night I took a small overdose of sleeping-medication and slept for 7 hours. It's not like I'm full of energy but for once I don't feel like I'm caught in some kind of fog. I think I'll take a nap later. I ordered lots of clothes yesterday, I am not too sure if that had to do with the amount of sleepingpills in my system. But all the things I ordered were cheap and things I had thought of buying anyway. I ordered two jackets (I have no summer-jacket that fits, they all really cut into my arms and I don't feel comfortable in them at all), one dress, a bra, a tunica with an Elvira-print and a Vampira-t-shirt. All things I need! Okay, the last two items not so much. But I wanted them so them and have been looking at them for weeks. And I got some procent off, so why not.

My boyfriend is out. He's first going to meet a friend for a beer and then they'll go to some kind of class-reunion (they do that quite frequently) to have some dinner and get drunk. I'm sure he'll call me later to put some money into his account so he can take a cab home. That's what happens every time. Haha. P is going out in an hour or so, to the first outdoors rave of the season. That's an interest I really don't share, rave-music. But he seems excited. Good for him.

I'll just read, write emails and letters, read some more, watch some TV, finish an essay and exercise. And listen to loud music. I just hope that I won't crash. I need to get away from the urge to hurt myself. I am invited to a birthday-party tonight but who am I kidding, I can't go there on my own. It would have been cool though, I really like J. He's from Finland and the calmest person I know. I met him in 2006 for the first time and I couldn't speak a word of Swedish back then. Last year he had been admitted to the psych-hospital and we were quite close for a while. He texted me frequently and I tried to help him as much as I could. Like telling him to not take Effexor because it's a medication from hell and it's difficult to stop taking it. I ran into him last Sunday at the Fields of the Nephilim-concert but we only talked for a brief second. I think he was drunk. Anyway, I'll text him later to tell him that I won't come. 

Time for another cigarette and another cup of coffee. I know, my life-style is incredibly healthy. 

In Control

I'm doing alright right now. I'm just a bit exhausted and hungover. And tired. I can't believe that I have been able to enjoy myself yesterday. All social activities are often connected to panic attacks and anxiety for me. But yesterday it went quite alright.

We went to see Fields of the Nephilim last night. That's a gothrock-band, there are basically two big gothrock bands which have been around forever: Sisters of Mercy and Fields of the Nephilim. So I just had to go, I didn't want to miss the concert. I of course had the typical breakdown when I realized that all of my clothes made me look like a whale but I eventually got over it. And it was fun to style myself up, to back-comb my hair, to use fake eye-lashes and to put on lots and lots of make-up and jewelry. I have missed that, looking beautiful. 

When we arrived at the venue, we ran into people we know right away. That was the one thing I had been most afraid of, to meet friends and mates. Many of them I hadn't seen in many many months. But everyone came up to us, hugged us, talked to us. And I got to hear more than once how happy people were to see me. I felt loved! I had been convinced that people had forgotten about me but apparently they hadn't. They were all concerned about my health but I said that I was alright, that I hadn't been at the hospital for months. And I didn't say more about it. 

During the concert I was standing next to my friend V. I love that girl so much! First off, she is so beautiful! There are always guys hitting on her which really isn't making her boyfriend all too happy. But really, she is the nicest, smartest and most honest person I know. She has mental illness too so I don't feel like I need to hide something in front of her. I hadn't seen her in almost a year which is really crazy! Anyway, we were dancing, drinking and just having a good time. But ah, my feet and my back hurt bad after a while. I should have chosen better shoes. Oh well. The concert was great, the show was actually sold out and people were really enjoying themselves. 

Now I'm thinking about if I should push myself more or if the good mood I was in yesterday was just an exception. I was close to panic a few times but I was in control. I don't know. I'm invited to a party next Saturday, at J's place. The thing is that my boyfriend is going out with some old schoolfriends that night so I would have to go alone. And I don't think I can handle it. I could take a cab to J's place but really, that would be just a waste of money. And taking the subway on my own on a Saturday night, I rather not do that. We'll see, I probably won't go.

This week one of my favourite authors, Ben Okri will be at some kind of discussion on alienation. It's for free so I think I'll most definetely go there. My boyfriend has most of the week off from work due to May 1st (worker's day). So he could come with me. I'd love to get one of my books by Okri signed. And then there are the May-demonstrations/protests, I might go with the socialist party. So there are things that I could do this week. Maybe I should just push myself. Haha, I'm sure that in a few hours I'll break down and give up on everything again. All the love that I felt yesterday has given me a high but it's dangerous to crash from a high to a really low. And that's what always happens.

Being social

Yesterday has actually been an okay day for me. I met my penpal A from France and her husband, her brother and her mother. I had never met her before in real life which made it all even more like a big deal. You know, we are writing letters (snailmail) to each other. Letter writing is one of my hobbies. So I know a lot about her, her problems, her life. But meeting her in real is a totally different thing. She's in Stockholm right now, on holiday, she'll stay until tomorrow. Anyway, we had decided to meet up. Weirdly enough, it was me who brought up the idea of a meeting. I just thought that it would have been stupid to not meet when she's close to where I live.

My boyfriend left his course about half an hour earlier (he told them he had a doctor's appointment, haha) so he could drive me. I know this is really stupid. I'm dependend on him and I'm somehow using him. But he offered me to drive me, it's not like I'm forcing him. And he actually wanted to meet A too, he knows who my penpals are. So, we met up at a subway-station. I panicked, not so much about meeting her but more about being close to a subway-station. All the people coming off the subway, the flow, it just caused me to panic. 

But when they arrived, it didn't feel awkward at all. We walked around in a park (Skinnarviksparken) in Southern Stockholm and we stayed some time at an awesome viewpoint where you can look all over the water (Stockholm has water/the sea everywhere around) and the other side of the town. Then we sat down in a little cute café, had some cake and some coffee and just chatted for an hour or so. I actually drank coffee in public! Coffee can cause me to panic badly so I avoid drinking anywhere else than at home. And I got a small panic attack and thought I would pass out. But I tried to keep my act together and pretended that I was fine. You know, I am good at pretending. I think I talked too much though. Some people say nothing at all when they are anxious or nervous but I just talk, talk, talk. To make the awkwardness go away. 

So I had a good time yesterday. Yeah, I had panic attacks. I was worried that they would find me weird. I was worried they would find me disgusting (my body issues, gah) and I was worried that I talked too much. But it was nice to meet her and her family and I was kind of proud of myself afterwards. But that doesn't mean that I want to do it again any time soon, going out, meeting a friend. There's still way too much anxiety involved.

My social worker just texted me to ask how it went yesterday. That's so sweet of him. It seems like he really cares about me.