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I'm a girl at 15 from Norway. This blog's just for complaining to the world and write about my life. Just so you know. Yeah, and I got some words of wisdom once and a while which may interest you. Enjoy!

Thursday, December 9, 2010


The Las Vegas skyline, copyrighted

Maybe everything is a lie. Maybe we aren't who or what we are. Maybe it's just not how the world is supposed to be put together.

Fuck it. I can't remember how it is to be depressed. Or, I do know how it feels like, I just can't say whether I'm depressed or not right now. That is the problem. Knowing is always the problem. It's not just enough to think, to believe. You have to know the truth. At least that's how I work. Nothing can be proved right or wrong, but you have to know to be certain.

Maybe it is so that the depression is just something that comes every late autumn and stays for a while? If the world wasn't that confusing... Then I might survive another winter. With snow. And Christmas. And family. What a joy that would be. Well, not really...

I don't want it to get back onto me. The suicide thoughts. The bad habits of not doing anything, feeling anything or being anything. I want to survive this winter. Right now, today, there are so many things to actually be here for. Be me for.

I don't want to cry.
I don't want to not be able to cry.
I don't want to feel unworthy.
I don't want to be silent.
I don't want to open the car door when my grandfather is driving.
I don't want to be afraid.
I don't want to lie to myself.
I don't want to be helpless.
I don't want to not wanting to feel.
I don't want to loose my great support.
I don't want to suppress my feelings.
I don't want to not being able to smile.
I don't want to hurt you.
I don't want to act cold and heartless.

I don't want everybody else to feel sorry for me.

I wonder how it is to be a victim of incest.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

So Lucky

I didn't think life was this hard. It is, though. Or. This Friday my whole class went on a sleepover together. It's weird. Because they respect me. I could go to bed at 11.30 PM – live my life.

I came out to 23 of my 25 classmates this Friday. We had this game where you had to tell a secret for every Smarties you ate, and the type of secret depending on the color of the Smarties you took. Red means "love". And of course I had to pick a red one.

"Hm..." I said. At first everybody was talking and stuff, but at last the ruler of the game got everyone to shut up. "OK," I continued, "My name is Sunniva, and I haven't thought any heterosexual thoughts in two years." Everybody went silent. Silence. My point of telling my name in the beginning was to be funny, AA meeting lookalike. That didn't happen...

I was just like "What the fuck?", because nobody said anything. It was just silent in the room, and everybody looked shocked. Didn't they understand? Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT!

Somehow the ice was broken, and people started asking me things and stuff. Praising... something, I answered and stuff. But everybody was shocked, and that's what shocked me as well. When I came out to my friends, they didn't look that shocked. Trust me, it was bad. But hilarious while looking back.

God, I'm glad it's over. I've been thinking about coming out to my class, because I want to be true to myself and everybody around me. But I didn't want it to be like "Now we have to be serious, and I'm going to tell you my biggest secret ever!". No, I wanted it to fit, and it did. I'm glad. Really, really happy.

Sometimes the world doesn't end, even though you might think otherwise.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Feeling Close To Nothing

Hi y'all. How you doin'? Oh, I'm fine, thank you. Smileyface.

A new chapter of my life started three weeks ago. I started at a new school, with completely different people. My real life started. My true life.

I'm really, really happy. Because that school is like magic. I think that if I didn't attend exactly this school, I'd be really depressed right now. Really. But every day these new 25 people in my class make me smile. I just have to. Because they're worth it.

Still, the happiness isn't real. Because every day I think that there's something wrong, something that shouldn't be. For some reason. First day of school I asked my new teacher where to go to be assigned to a psychologist. The first day. The first day of the new life. The new beginning. But I think I couldn't have done otherwise. That would've been stupid.

I feel there's something missing. Because when I think really, really hard on what my life contains while on the train at 7.15 in the morning, I can't find the positive. Or, I can find the positive, but I can't find the positive life. It hurts, I can assure you. Maybe it's just how it's supposed to be.

Is this how I was thinking and acting before? Because I sometimes feel this great deja vú. It might not be the case, maybe this is just how I'm supposed to be, but maybe it isn't. And that's why I wanted help. I don't want my new life to start with sorrow and negativity. I think I was brave, though.

The answers I find don't seem reasonable. Because I have no idea what is happening anymore. Maybe that is a sign from my brain to seek help. At least I managed to do so. I follow my heart. At least sometimes. I hope it is worth it.

I might be in love. Because she is really cute, pretty and lovely. She's actually kinda perfect, even though I realize she ain't. But I really like her. Did you know I've never had a boy- or girlfriend? Like, a romantic relationship. That's what it's called. And I'm a virgin, and I haven't ever been drinking. For me that is courage and truthfulness.

Did you know that if you take the first sentence in all the sections above (except the first one of course) make out a poem?

A new chapter of my life...
Started three weeks ago
I'm really,
Really happy
The happiness isn't real
I feel there's
Is this how I was thinking and acting before?
The answers I find
Don't seem reasonable
I might
Be in love

I like it. At least a little. I don't know what to do with myself. I cried today. Because I read some of what I wrote here on the blog for about half a year ago. I was totally broken. Devastated, horrified, scared.

The worst part is that I miss it. A little too much.

Thursday, August 12, 2010


You people deserve a happy blogpost. You think you get it? Get excited, because you might! Yeah, I'm not gonna join the commercial business (hopefully)...

The Only Exception - Paramore

You know what? I. Am. Happy. Yes, I said it: I am happy. Now you might think "What the heck?!", but trust me: I'll be back to normal tomorrow. Probably. Yeah, I don't know. But that's what I'm used to; My life brings ups and downs, the key is to manage to live with them. God, I really sound like a psychological mess...

Yeah, that was the thing I was thinking about. Happiness. Why am I happy? Because on Monday, three and a half days from now, I'll start a new year. A new decade as well. Maybe. Because I'm starting at a new school, in a new city, with new people and new meanings. Stavanger Cathedral School, that's the school. Hopefully it'll make miracles happen. Hopefully. You never know.

I'm so excited! After about 6 years of boredom in the public school system, I'm finally starting a "real" school. Yes, it is a public school, but it's a real school. A good school. Different. Hopefully people are weird, funny, a bit crazy, and really smart. Something similar to me. God, what a school! I'm excited.

Fuck, if the school sucks, I'm finished. Really. But it would be a sensation if it does. Suck, I mean. Because all the evidence says it doesn't. So... No, but I'm excited. I don't give a shit that I got to take the train for half an hour each way every day. I don't care! Because that school is in my heart. Yeah, and I gotta prepare to live in the real city where you have to take the subway for half an hour on your way to Uni or work. It's called life. In the city, I mean.

Yeah, I am happy right now. I just got to find out what to wear. You know what? I might have some sort of eye for fashion. Yeah, what a shock. But I might, I tell you. So... Let's hope this school year won't suck. I don't even care if you pray for me, as long as you don't tell me. You won't get that permission very often, so if you care about that sort of stuff, you better get at it right away.

I'm gonna sleep now. Sometimes I'm such a 25 year old. Like, a teenager and smart at the same time. Kind of. OK, bye now. Now this sounds like a conversation on some sort of IM. Why didn't AOL become popular in Norway? Whatever. This is how I think when I'm about to fall asleep.

I still love that song. It's on repeat. Thanks, honey, for wanting me to learn it to you on piano. Sweet dreams.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

We Are All Weird

21 Guns - Green Day (American Idiot Cast Version)

This is my I-feel-horrible-and-need-some-emo-music-to-get-over-it-all music. It's pretty fabulous, right? When in New York in the end of June, my family and I saw this amazing musical where the song's taken from. I still love it. Their version of Before the Lobotomy was fabulous too, and very touching. But yeah... I suck at changing subjects.

Now I'm listening to Die Polizei - Kaizers Orchestra. You should check it out on Spotify, YouTube or wherever. It's lovely. Even though you don't understand all the lyrics (it's in three different languages all at once; Norwegian, German and English), it just is. Really, really good.

I really haven't told you anything except throwing my sappy songs over you. You're trapped, and then you vanish. I wonder how it is to forgotten. To not exist, even though you do. It must suck.

You know what? I hate my father. Right now I really, really hate him. Even more than I hate my grandfather. And it ain't easy to hate anyone more than I hate my grandfather, at least not when he hasn't done that much of a damage to the world. Or, at least not to the world's world. But he's destroyed my world. They both have, really.

Does anyone know what's almost as hypochondria, but you're afraid of something bad happening instead? Maybe it's just anxiety... But that's what my father's got. Or so I believe. He thinks I'm going to die of a heart attack when I'm swimming across a rather small lake. With a life jacket. Right next to my cousin at 14, also covered in a life jacket. Yep, anxiety.

But now I'm happy, no matter how emotional this music is. Talking to hilarious friends via Facebook chat is just genius. Politicians are the funniest. At least those in my liberal, loveable Venstre (Left). No, now I ended up happy. Well, that's good, I guess. Thank god.

Did you know I'm creative? I think I'll post my US holiday video here when it's done. It's played with this amazing piece of music in the background. Love it.

Listen to it here

Kids - MGMT

Cool though.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Horny (My Apologies)

Being horny makes me so fucking happy! Like, it's just to get it on, and I'll smile and be confident. Me like.

Fuck, now I regret writing that. So, for the next half an hour I'm gonna pretend I don't know anyone of you reading this, even though I know too many of you... Yeah.

Seriously, I could need a girlfriend right now. Not just for sex, no seriously, just for having that special one. But lonely wolf ain't got anyone. Fuck. Didn't I mention I swear too much when I write? Honestly, I almost never swear. At least not in Norwegian. But when you're writing to yourself in English, I bet it's kinda like having a split personality. Yeah, interesting...

But yeah, the case: I want love. Or at least a crush. And right now it seems like I'm the only one within the radius of a couple of miles that ain't got no girlfriend. Not that I know that many people that are looking for any girlfriend, but you get what I mean. Damn. Do you notice I'm kinda happy right now? It's not a super-mega-terrabyte serious post, this one. Or, maybe it is. Maybe I'm just fucking up my feelings (not the dirty way, you pervert) and compressing them into a small little box so I can be happy for once.

Yeah. I told you I end up happy when I'm horny. I just saw this weird, but still cool (and very, very sexy) movie this evening.And Then Came Lola. It's very weird, and I kinda ended up being very angry at the maker because she used repetition (ain't that what I'm doing as well when I make these slide show/movie type o' things?) all the time. Annoying. But I still couldn't leave it.

That probably says more about me than the movie... (Get a life, girl!)

So... Anymovie. I'm so confused. Wait, I can't talk about mental problems when I am in this state condition. That sounded weird. What I was saying (now for the third time...), is that I wish I had a girlfriend. Why ain't I got a girlfriend? Well... I'm probably too dorky, nerdy and weird for that to happen. But I can wish, right? Okay, that sounds even more weird. Fuck.

I'll keep my hopes up for Upper Secondary. When I say that, I really sound young. I am young. I'm not more than freakin' 15. But I think like I'm 25. Or... Not today. Yeah, split personality... Let's gather around and pray that HMSunnyMH will have a girlfriend in the nearest future. Maybe I should become a Christian. Yeah, now I really sounds like an annoying teenager. Fuck.

OK, I'm done with this. Now I'll listen to my sexy (though mostly weird) French music. Welcome to my life... This song is really sexy, though. It's musical porn. Yep, I invented that. Now get a life, you reader. Or writer. I bet I said it mostly to myself. I'm so cool; Talking to myself, and even writing to myself for everyone to read.

Over and out.

The sexy music, by the way (I bet you've heard it before, but I just heart this song, haha):

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Swiss Chocolate Is Better Than Life

Fuck. I just ate the last chocolate. Real, fantastic Swiss chocolate. Fuck.

I feel for putting up a picture right now. So I'll scroll through iPhoto and find the most depressing, unedited picture I can find. Editing isn't gonna do it. Because then it's fake. And a fake world willed with fake stuff and fake people, that's a world that sucks.

Weird picture from Las Vegas, on the top of the Stratosphere Tower. If fixing your camera is editing, then it's edited. Yeah, I know nothing about taking pictures. At least very little. But I'm too creative to not give it a try. So I snapped during my 3 weeks vacation in the US. This was very informative, right? Yeah, bye. And yes, I took the picture. No copyright. 'Cause it was pretty cool, actually. So, yeah...

So... My life, you ask? Not as crappy as it could be. Except that I'm soon to be hating almost everybody in my family. Not in a emo teenager way, but in a serious way. Yeah, that sounded so serious. Totally aware. So... How's life doing for the internet? I hate holidays.

People say I'm lucky. Hell yeah, I'm freakin' terrabyte lucky! But that doesn't mean I got to like my relatives, does it? Maybe I'm abusive. Because I come with them on expensive vacations, even though I really don't deserve it. But who, at the age of 15, deserve two really big and crazy vacations within one summer holiday? I've toured the US, and now I'm touring quite a part of Europe as well. I'm so fortunate and lucky, right?

This should make me happy. Or shouldn't it? Isn't that what people crave for – money? Is it so that people don't want to be happy? Or is that just shit, what I'm saying? But can you be happy with loads of money and expensive holidays? Nope. Sorry, but you can't.

I sound like a total bitch. I complain, I nag, I'm disrespectful. Sorry, but I'm not in the mood. To be different, I mean. Mean Girls. I am so confusing today. I bet the antibiotics is the one to blame, or just the bad cold I've got.

Yeah, and to you, my father: You can't make me love you more even though you try to be so kind and caring. I'm used to have bad colds. All I want is it to be gone. But I'm patient. I know I'll have to get past a couple of rough nights where I can't sleep, because I've been here before. I don't care how much love you got, because I know it ain't helping. It's just annoying me. And angry patients ain't a good thing, sorry.

No, I'm sorry in general. For everything. This is just a crappy day. That's when I breathe my nasty breath over this blog. That sounded nasty. Sorry, again. I gotta reply to a really sweet e-mail now. It might even make me happy for all I know.

God, I love Swiss chocolate.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010


My brother's laughing while watching South Park. I'm laughing while chatting with random people. Is this life? Is this the good, the positive, the life how it's supposed to be?

I'm back. Back to where I don't belong. Back to the country I hate, to the people I hate. To the life I hate. I hate Norway. Maybe I just hate being around my family...

I saw them. In New York. This gay couple just popped out of nowhere. I walked towards those two girls, being so scared and so happy at the same time. They're gay! Two girls being together as a couple. I know they're gay, I just know it. That is what keeps me smiling at night. I'm not alone.

Actually I've seen quite a few gay people in the US during my holiday. The US got hope. Sure, Norway's got hope too, but not the same kind of hope. It's quite a difference between 4,8 million people and over 300 million. It makes every hope bigger, brighter. More realistic. I want to move.

This is dull. I'm listening to my newly created emo playlist on Spotify... What a life, right? I didn't get the opportunity to buy a pride tee. Too bad. I wish I had one. Maybe I'll make one. In the fall.

You know what? I got into the upper secondary that I love the most in the whole school district. This will be a new start. This fall I'll try to walk into that school being me. The real, full me. With flaws, with reality, with honesty. I'm gay.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Back On Track

So, I'm opening myself up to my friends. A little more for each time I see them. I think I should link this page to a friend. You know what? I actually intentionally let a friend of mine read this shit I'm posting. I'm gonna do it again – let myself out to people. Wanting people to know me. And I think this place is the closest to be me. Just a sec, I'll let her know.

Okey, that's the longest Facebook message I've ever sent... Yeah, I def have a life. Not.

What I was going to write, causing the title, is this: I think I'm on my way back. Back to where I was in late 9th and early 10th grade. Which is back on track. The track that made me depressed and just bad. 2009 was the year of hell for me, and I really don't want to end up on the same path that I walked that year. Man, I need to talk to somebody.

I bet I've already told you (not that I actually remember what I've written here) that I've decided to get my ass back into a therapist's chair again. Still, I don't like the thought that it's not the same person I saw for half a year. Will I have to start everything all over again? Can he read what the other psychologist wrote about me? Will the new therapist suck?

Why the fuck did you have to quit? Bitch. No seriously, I needed you. Maybe I don't need you now, but I still need somebody. Fuck. It sucks "losing" the person you told everything to. Or at least it does when we didn't get the chance to finish.

I wish you could've seen me succeed. Becoming as close as possible to normal. Because we had something going, we really did. Maybe we could've "figured it out", and both could see the whole thing as a victory. You could look at it as a succeeded case, and I could tell myself and everyone that I'm not crazy. No, I would've given you that victory of making me happy again.

You made me happier and better, that's for sure. But the happiness went away, and I bet you I'll end up on the bad path again pretty soon. We'll see. I'll see. Honestly I think you think that I would need more help. That I wasn't really done. But we had to end. We both hope that I'll just get the courage to try once more. Do you have faith in me?

No seriously, I love how the psychologist and I had our own little psychoanalyzing thing between us. "I think you think", "you think I think" and "I think you think I think"'s. Poor guy... No, we both learned something, I bet you.

Now I just need the courage...

Thursday, June 17, 2010

To A Broken Heart


You know what? I'm sorry we had to end like this. To be honest, I never thought we would. At least not like this. You're worth so much more. I'm worth so much more. We're both. We deserve better.

No, I don't really understand why you're so mad at me. I can imagine some of it, but far from everything. Right now I'm angry. At you, at the world, but mostly at myself. We deserve better.

Why did the contact stop? I separated more and more from you. I found it hard to feel "home". Maybe we weren't as close as I'd wished for. Maybe I was just too much. Because I can be, I know that. We both can be. But we still deserve better.

I know you didn't like it when I told you my therapist was quitting. He agreed with you, it wasn't a good time to quit. There's probably no right time to quit. But that was the situation. I got better, you know? I got over the suicide period, and I'm feeling better now. Still, I think I'll try to start therapy once again after the summer break. Just to get through with it. Because I try. We deserve better.

You helped me through so much, it's actually hard to believe it all. You were there for me, even though I acted like an ass. I had it like hell, but you were still by my side. For some reason. Because I know it must've been hard for you, experiencing all this. You've said that you're a very strong person, time after time. I know that, and I know it's true. But some things are still hard. We both deserve better.

I'm sorry for all the pain I've given you. To be honest, I don't know how much I've been a pain for you. But I'm sorry for whatever. I've been through hell, and I dragged you along in the side wagon of the motorcycle (whatever that means). I apologize for that. And I wish it never happened. We deserve better.

Right now I'm listening to Muse. Old songs, new songs. All to take away the pain and anger. Pain because I've found it really hard to lose you. Anger because I regret. I'm angry at you too, but, when it comes to it, it's just the anger I have for myself. We deserve better.

No, you can never redo anything, no matter who you are. But dreams and hope don't care whether there's rules or not. I want to make up with you, because I can't redo reality. You're a really good friend, and no matter what happens in the future, I'll always remember you. We deserve better.

For the backup on accepting myself, for the help when trying to talk to my teacher, for you outing me and explaining the problem to the school nurse, for the walk you had with me right before my first session with the psychologist. For the support on coming to terms with myself, for the great laughs, for the fantastic (but still disturbing (in a good way)) discussions, for the hugs, and for you being yourself. Thank you for being such a friend. I've been a nightmare, but that was when you stood by my side. I'm still a nightmare sometimes, but now we are separate. We deserve better.

You have a special place in my heart for all the things you've done for me. I owe you big, probably everything. You've kept me alive, and I thank you for that. Whatever happens later: Thank you.

Love, Sunniva.

Monday, June 14, 2010


OK. Maybe I'm not fully OK yet. I'm not quite sure if I care right now. No, at the moment I don't care.

Maybe I should talk to my mother? Ask her if she'll send me to a psychologist. Because there is something wrong, and I have no idea what it is.

Fuck the world. I went to a psychologist for a freaking half a year! That's quite some time. Shouldn't it go away then? Shouldn't I feel perfectly fine now? Why am I not happy?

Maybe I'm chasing perfection, even though the world is imperfect. Am I supposed to feel this way? Please, I beg you, go away. I don't want this to happen once more.

Is this really a major deja vú? Is this exactly how I was last summer? If it is, then fuck it. I want to have a life. I want to be happy. I want to be normal.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why is my body doing this? Why is my mind screwing everything up?



I think this is the first time I've ever written the title before the rest of the post... "Empty." Because that's exactly how I feel at the moment. Empty.

Today I've been making protecting skins for my Mac (aka Baby). I've been sowing all day. All freaking day, except from when I was at school for 4 hours. What a life I have. This post is meaningless right now.

Back to the emptiness. Somewhere into the sowing, I started watching the 'In Treatment' episodes I've downloaded. From season one, about Sophie. Gorgeous girl. I'm learning stuff when watching 'In Treatment'. Psychology stuff. Things about myself, and things about others. When can you say you've been sexually abused?

I'm so empty right now. Like I'm nothing. Or everything. I'm perfect. Or a big fail. Am I me? Is this me, the real me?

I love music. Right now I hate my creativity. But it is like the creativity is lost. And without creativity, I'm nothing. Nothing.


Fail or Perfection
Photo: Perfect/Fail
Properties: HMSunnyMH

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

I Can't Breathe

Right now I'm hyperventilating. Because I'm scared. Which makes me hyperventilate even more. Fuck dogs.

That's right, I was scared by a dog. You know what? I'm freakin' scared of everything. And I hate it. I can breathe now.

Animals scare me in general. Whenever I'm at my great grandma's, there's this cat wandering around. And at a sudden, in the middle of the dinner, I feel something smoothly swipe my left leg. Slowly... And there you have me, terrified. Dogs are even worse. I scream loud, and don't know where the hell I'm supposed to put myself. Yes, I'm afraid of heights. But animals are different. They're not scary, they're deathly frightening. So I start crying.

Through the past year or so I've been "developing" my asthma. It's getting real bad nowadays, and I've started on regular medication. Mainly because I'm coughing like I've got lung cancer, but my doc thinks it's asthma (I don't disagree at all) causing it. So now I have to inhale weird powder that might give me fungus in my throat (!) if I use it wrong. Welcome to my life.

What is bad with asthma, is that whenever I'm scared, or just working out, I start hyperventilating. I need loads of oxygen, but my lungs find that hard to do. For some fucking reason. And I can't breathe. Then I get even more scared. Fucko, fucko, fucko. Yeah, today I feel sorry for myself.

What am I really scared of? I don't know. Nothing. Everything. Myself. Or those around. I try to live a "normal" life, but I just feel weird. Maybe my friends don't like that I'm gay? Do they have a problem with it? It's weird, isn't it, that a girl wants to be friends with other girls that are straight? Maybe she likes me? Maybe she wants to turn me straight?

Yeah, I think I'll try starting to talk with somebody again after the summer holidays. I'm sad. For no reason. Sounds familiar, Sunny? Kind of, yes... Fuck. This ain't fanfabulous. This is life. And it sucks. I need to talk to somebody.

This post's been containing too many swears. That's probably not good. I thought everything was OK. Fuck. My father's cutting the grass. Again. I hate allergies. I hate medicine. I hate it. Ex-psychologist: This was my fifteen minutes of sadness for today.

Monday, June 7, 2010


And I'm down the road again... But I was outside skinny dipping today. Yeah, that was totally out of context. *Gathering thoughts* OK, let's look at this. I promised the psychologist to if I ever felt bad. And I keep my promises. As far as possible, tho.

Lots have been happening lately. I've had my final exams for Lower Secondary, if there's anything like that. Grade 8-10 (7-9 within British/American standards). It's been pressuring, but not bad at all. I actually ended up with an A+ on my oral exam (in Religions). The written one I won't know about until graduation day, June 17th. We'll see. But it sure has been busy, without that much time to "figure out life" and stuff. That might've been positive, to just put everything away for a couple of days, but I don't think it really works...

Naval - Yann Tiersen

I think I'm hitting the lows again. I'm really not as happy as I was just a month ago. Maybe I'm just tired. Tired of school, tired of friends, tired of people, tired of fitting in. Tired of everything. I think I'm going to watch a movie. A comedy. Something really funny. Because right now I need it. I don't give a damn that it's 11pm.

Yeah, that's also been a concern lately. I'm sleeping lighter now. And if you know me, and have slept by my side, you know I'm a heavy sleeper. A really heavy sleeper. But at a sudden I've been sleeping worse. And I can't fall asleep. I could fall asleep at 10.30pm sometimes. Maybe even before that. But now I'm not sleepy at 11. I'm not even sleepy at 12. I might sleep at 1am. No, the sleeping is getting worse.

I'm thinking about talking to my former teacher. Yes, I had a crush on her. That's not the point. She's over 40 for God's sake! No, I want to talk with her about my crazy year of 9th grade. I was a wreck. I was horrible. I was crazy. I was questioning. I was living and trying not to live at the same time. It was a really confusing time. Why do I want to talk about it with her? Because I want to tell her that I'm not as crazy anymore. That I'm better. Because she noticed something was wrong. But she wanted me to get through it myself.

I want to apologize. She deserves an apology. Because I really am sorry. And I put her through a lot. I put myself through a lot. I might've put the world through a lot. But here I am today. She deserves an apology.

The low is hitting me. Yes, the psychologist told me somewhat what to do when I'm feeling down. I'm not feeling horrible, I'm just feeling down. I'll make it through the two months of summer vacation, and then I'll see what I do. Maybe I'm going to look up a psychologist once again to really get through this, whatever it might be. Because today I'm clueless. As clueless music sometimes can be. Or, as clueless us humans can be when listening to music.

Yes, I think I'll try to get to talk with somebody again after the holidays. It's just to find the reason to talk with somebody. I tend to feel the need of a reason.

I'm crying now. I don't know why. But I'm crying. I'm an artist – a creative soul. It's beautiful, but It's a torture at the same time. I hate crying. I never cried at the psychologist. Almost six months, and no tears. I want it that way. I can't be vulnerable. I must stay true, stay strong. Stay me. And me does not involve crying. At least not around other people. These thoughts makes me cry. I've been using the verb 'to cry' far too many times in this section...

They say that you shall live like there's no tomorrow. Is there any tomorrow? When will I know tomorrow?

Thursday, May 27, 2010

As Yesterday Cut, Tomorrow Sings

"The times they are a-changing" Bob Dylan sings. Well, the times really are changing for me. But no, it's not the time that's changing, it's me. The last three months have made me change a lot. If some of my friends say I've changed dramatically, I believe them. But I'm happy with that.

Right now I got this worst headache ever. I bet this is like a hangover, though I've never drunk any alcohol ever. Maybe I'm getting ill. What do I know. I just finished my written math exam. My hope and belief is that it went OK, or rather good. Now I'm boring.

The situation with my parents is awkward at the moment. I'm OK with my mother, she's survivable, and actually a pretty good person. My father on the other hand, is getting on my nerves. And when somebody is getting on my nerves, I get pissed off. And I act like an idiot. That'll just be for now.

I'm thinking about therapy again. It's not like we ever finished it off and got to the end of it, good or bad. We just had to separate because of him quitting his job. But that's so. Still, I wish I could actually get down to it and really understand myself. I have a lot of questions, and a lot of confusion. But at the time being, without seeing anyone about it, I can't get over it.

Now as I've told my mother that I talked to this psychologist for half a year, I can possibly ask her if I feel the need to talk to somebody again. But I don't know if I've got "big enough" problems. We can't call us ill for anything. No, I don't know.

Sorry this isn't much of a smart-ass post or anything, but I needed to add something here. Just what I feel. To be honest, this blog has been filled with a whole lot of shit from it's beginning. But that's so. I'm the chief. You can't do anything about it, as long as you don't hack me. Go on, it's not that much to find.

How To Save A Life - The Fray

Not my kind of music, but it reflects my life at the moment. I might've lost a friend. Might've. I don't know what will come. But I guess it was because I've changed. I could change back, but that's not the person I want to be. Today's me is way closer to my heart than the me I've been acting like the past couple of years.

Tomorrow will show.

Saturday, April 24, 2010


Today was the second time this year I had shorts on. It was sunny outside, not so warm, but just fine. The blue skies begged for peace, the green grass stated change. It's spring.

To be honest I hate springtime. I have allergies, and this season is messing with my face as well as my head. Sometimes it's just as if everything explodes. But I survive every time, miraculously.

I'm relieved. I don't feel like a new person, but I can see that I might've changed throughout the last year or so. Someone says coming out completely changes their situation. Maybe that's so. I'm not sure for certain. The last couple of years I've been withdrawn from everything and everyone; I've been hiding. Now I've at a sudden gotten the opportunity to be me and free. Maybe I really have changed...

We all wish life was more simple sometimes. Not that that's ever going to happen... But hope is what's keeping us going. We look forward, or we're just so happy with our lives as it is. If you don't got one of those two, you haven't got much. I choose to believe that hope is what's made me going. When I look back it's really hard to understand what made me keep on as normal as possible, but somehow I made it.

Even though it's tempting to say that everything is perfectly fine now, I don't think I can do so. I know there's stuff inside me that shouldn't necessarily be there. And I've experienced how bad it can become. That's why I see it as important to not be caught on the wagon going to the "perfect" world. I can't put myself in such a vulnerable situation; It's not worth it.

With that said, I must say that I look at the world in a more positive way now than before. I think my life has gotten much better now than one year ago, and I'm very grateful for how my situation is today. The present builds up on my hope for the future. My "goal" looks more reachable now than ever before. And that's a good thing.

It's just to remember the positive when the negative wants to take control. Not exactly my specialty, but I'm working on it.

Friday, April 23, 2010

I'm Coming Out

Diana Ross - I'm Coming Out

Yeah, that's probably the gayest song ever made. But I like it. Now, what happened this Wednesday:

My mother was driving me to my gymnastics practice, and while sitting in the car she just went:
– You've got some well thought out thoughts sometimes.
– Well, thanks... That might be because I've been going to a psychologist for the last half a year, I said.
– Oh... Well, I'm glad I got to know.
And then I got off for gymnastics...

So, after gymnastics practice my mother picked me up and drove me home. We didn't talk all "Oh my God! You're talking to a psychologist!!!" We got home, and in the kitchen we started talking a bit more.

– The reason I've been seeing a psychologist is because I'm a lesbian, I said.
– Oh... Really?
– Yeah...
And then there was this bad scary and awkward silence. I looked at her, and she smiled so weird.
– What?! I asked her
– No, it's nothing. Pause. – I'd really never guessed that...
So I assured her I am, and we started talking about our weird family. And then it was over.

I'm done! I'm freakin' done with it! I came out to my mother!

Yeah, this is the reason why I'm on a current high right now. But I'm done! It's weird, but it's real.

BJ Thomas - Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

Monday, April 19, 2010

"Mom...? We Need To Talk."

OK, now it's finally coming. I'm considering telling my mother I'm gay.

To be honest, I never thought I'd say so. Or at least not yet. I'm a freakin' 15! I know one soul doing so before that age. Seriously?

Because I am really thinking about it — to come out to her. When my grandparents were in town for my brother's birthday a week ago, I listened to a conversation between my mother and grandfather. He's writing on (another) book, this time a "real" novel for adults. Filled with (way too much) sex, God, Christianity, condemnation, and homosexuality. Or the condemnation of gays. What a shocking move from him...

What actually is a little shocking to me is that my mother actually pointed out that, and of a sudden they two were discussing homosexuality for over an hour. Pure entertainment that should've been promoted in Big Brother, but that's so. Still, my mother argued pro homosexuals! Wow... That kind of made me speechless. Not that I can't see her as an ally (because I can, though I know a thing or two about her in advance nevertheless), but I've never really listened to her saying stuff like that. Weird, I'm totally aware.

So... This event has been what's made me to think about actually come out to her. The psychologist (I'm trying not to be "anti adults", which means actually listening to him (he really deserves it)) told me to try to establish an OK relationship with my parents, and then especially with my mother. Because I'm way too good at stripping down my emotions and be plastic (not popular bitch in high school plastic). So I'm supposed to allow them to get to know me, at least a little.

"Mom, I've been going to a psychologist the last half a year. And I'm gay. Now, I've accomplished to let you get to know me. I'm awesome." That's something that could easily come out of my mouth. If I decide to tell her. Chances? Am I a bitch if I say that I'll do it to take advantage of the stereotypes so she'll let me go to New York City Pride this summer?

We all wish things were easier than they are. My dream? That when I popped out of my mother's vagina at the age of zero, you could see a mark in my forehead saying "queer". But that didn't happen, and now I'll have to learn how to deal with that. Take the risk of coming out. It's not like she'll kick me out or anything. Or...

If I, hypothetically, come out to her tomorrow, should I go for a girly blouse or take the butch out in the open? Just asking...

Friday, April 16, 2010

The End Or The Start

Meghan Tonjes - The End

Yeah, I think we all need some music today/tonight(/whenever you're reading this). Always, actually. And it fits this day. Every day actually.

Yesterday I had my last session with the psychologist. Which means I'm done. I'm freakin' done! No more "missing" the buss, no restless hours thinking about what some dude I don't even know thinks about me. I don't need to think through everything a thousand times and answer weird questions. And I didn't need to break the deal. He finished it, so I was left with no choice.

To be honest I felt so good after that last time. We talked seriously, we talked weird, we were right and wrong all over. He told me his "thesis's", letting me into the process of deliberate if they were good or bad. And now I know what he really thinks, and what he was left with after this period of almost half a year.

I'm grateful. I'm so grateful it's almost as I don't understand it myself. But I really am. Who "me" would've been if it wasn't for this, I don't even want to know. Bad, I guess. So yes, it's helped me. A lot.

What's happening further? I have no idea. He asked me whether I'd ask for help if I needed it later, and if it's gotten easier. I was a wreck after every session for a while only because I was terrified of going there... To ask for help might not be the easiest for me, but hopefully some of the scary is gone now, as I've seen "how it is". But I really hope this will be the first and last time ever no matter what.

Me ending up as a wreck again is what scares me the most, I think. But when I'm able to go straight to the wrong end, I guess it's possible to go to the right end as well. That sounded weird, but whatever.

Remember the feeling. If I can remember this feeling, I think I can stay happy. The key to happiness is more complicated than x+2=5.

The Killers - I Can't Stay

Go dance!

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

News: I'm Weird

OK, now it's "out of the bag". Or the closet (?). The psychologist is finishing. He got a new job somewhere else (I know I'm not nosy enough to know where, and it kinda irritates me), and he's done by the end of April.

You know what? I'm kinda glad he's getting a new job. Because that means I don't need to be so "obsessed" thinking about when to stop having sessions with him. Still, I told him about the "I wanna leave"-thoughts, and he seemed somewhat worried. Yeah, my life is quite crappy sometimes, but I really don't need him to worry as well as me being afraid of what I'm capable of doing and whatnot.

Well, now right before he's quitting his job, we're sort of speed dating. Or if you ask me, that's the best thing to call it. Put in it whatever you want, but we're just seeing each other rather often right now (because I'm weird and have weird thoughts, and need to talk to somebody about my problems). So, yeah... Need to say no more.

Now (surprise, surprise!), I'm a very weird person today. And I use way too many parentheses in this post... And this is becoming more and more random.

Anyhow, I've been thinking about this with religion and stuff. This winter break, when my brother and I visited our grandparents in their cabin near Trysil, Grandpa said something. "You've already chosen what you believe in," he told me on the way to the airport. Oh, I have? And you're the one to decide so?

Maybe I get why he thinks as he does regarding homosexuality. In his mind your sexuality is something that can be changed (I'm not going to go further on this subject and include the bi's, transsexuals and other queers), and apparently he thinks you can just choose what you want to believe in. Is it so? Can you choose? I don't think you can. You might deny what you believe in, but I don't think you can choose if you got faith and can believe in God or not. Of course people might shift between religions; Religions is so much more than old books and gods. Still, that little thing regarding believing can't be changed. That's what I say.

And who chooses their religion or faith as brutal as he wants it to look like? Sometimes I just feel the situation with him is just hopeless. As if you believe your plant is this close being dead, even though you've done everything to keep it alive. It really irritates me that he thinks he knows everything about me, and that he can say he knows I've chosen when I don't even know it myself. Screw him. Though I bet you it's definitely not easy.

My grandfather is my plant. When am I going to learn that he can't be "saved" from his own hell. He's even decorated the whole thing! Yes, my grandfather is my plant. Or the weed around me. I bet the last.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Session Filed "Scary"

So, yet another day passed, yet another session done. Weird...

Today I was at his once again. We talked, we analyzed (I think we got our own psychoanalyzing club...), we wondered, and we talked even more. I think this session has been the longest thus far. At least it felt that way. Not so sure whether that's a good or a bad thing, but whatever.

Last time we decided that this session was to be about my family. Or, I asked if we could so. Because he kind of wanted me to be done. Poor guy, now I totally messed that up for him. Because I actually told him. That I was suicidal. Once.

I'm definitely low on sleep, and this day has been marked by that. When walking up to his office, I just had to stop for a second. I got tears in my eyes, wondering how I could possibly tell him this. The anxiety I've had before "invaded" me, and by a sudden I regret the whole thing. Why should I even care going in? But I did.

He could definitely see it. Smart as he is, he got that this was my way of showing him I wanted to tell him something. He asked. I said, "I want to tell you something, but I can't say it." So he suggested getting back to it. It's not like you're supposed to freak people out three minutes after you've met them.

We talked about my family. How my relationship with my grandfather is rather bad. How I'm terrified about my future. I don't even know if I'll have a real family around me ten years from now... Only future will tell. I really do have a bad relationship with them all. But I can't really see how it's supposed to become any better, as I've said before. If I'm to look at it myself, I'll ask if I really want any relationship with my family later in life. Maybe I feel I'm too vulnerable to manage hoping.

After a while he wanted to know what I wanted to tell him. So I spent 15 minutes trying to say it without saying it directly. In stead of sounding like it was supposed to, it sounded like I was about to say my father or grandfather raped me. Which wasn't the case. But trust me, it really sounded like that was the deal. He got it in the end, though.

"Sometimes I just wish I could disappear. Like, especially this Christmas." That's what I said, adding a lot extra, though, as I always do. But that's what I said. Then he got it. Thankfully.

I'm not going to go more into this part. My apologize, or blessing, depending on how you look at it and what's your outcome. Because I tend to be quite insensitive sometimes, and that might easily make people even more sad than this blog has already caused by it's nature. But we talked about this subject for a while, touching other things as well and putting everything into one (That sounds weird, and I'm totally aware).

Hopefully he gets me. I think he does. Though I can guarantee you I'm difficult to understand. So anything over 35% is approved. Maybe he'll let me understand how to get out of this mess I'm creating for myself. I'm crossing my fingers.

Monday, April 5, 2010

What To Tell The Psychologist Tomorrow

Now, here's my list. Totally just for my own randomness, but if you tag along, you do so. I just can't find anywhere else to write at the moment.

What I should tell the psych tomorrow:
My relationship with my father and grandparents sucks. I can't see how it's going to improve, and I have no idea what to do with it. Right now the only thing I can look at as an option, is to completely shut down my relationship with them. Not talk to them, not involving in their business. And, most importantly, not let them disturb my life.

I feel horrible sometimes. This one has to do with the first one, but it's really an issue in itself. When I'm around my father, grandfather and grandmother, I feel horrible. I end up thinking thoughts I really shouldn't think, and those thoughts could really scare the bravest. It's ruining me sometimes, and I can walk for days thinking solely about this case. It's not helping them either, I guess. Even though they try to change my feelings for them, it's really not working. Maybe, I don't know, but maybe they're really touched by this too. But it's not helping me, no matter what. Still, I don't want to "bring them down with me". Am I thinking weird?

I should confess. I should confess I was suicidal. Does it really matter? Yes, I guess it does. So I want to get done with it. Let it go, let it flow.

I wish I was done with it all. Maybe this will be the last time. I can't be at his forever. I got to live my own life, and learn how to deal with things happening. Become free.

Maybe it isn't freedom. Maybe it is. I can't know that for now. Neither can I choose what it is, ending this thing. But I really hope it's freedom knocking on my door when I say "goodbye" for the last time. Wish me luck on becoming free. I'll probably need it...

Why am I chasing freedom and solitude? Why do I feel captured?

Sunday, April 4, 2010

If Caring Was Easy

Have I ever said I got weird feelings? Bet you I have. But they are. Or I can't understand them. Something like that.

I've been almost half a year in therapy now. It helps, thankfully. But I wish I could just be done. Like, it's not supposed to be like my allergies, who won't ever go away. It's feelings, and they change. But apparently they won't really change it to the good.

Yes, I'm feeling a lot better. A lot. But sometimes I just end in my same bad habits, with my same old thoughts. Maybe it's how it's supposed to be, with "hormones, with you get at this age" making the thing. I don't know, really. But I think there's still something there.

For me to hate somebody or something is quite a big deal. I think I hate him. That's what his doings, feelings and way of being has caused him; Me hating my grandfather. And it's not like my relationship with my father is so much better, really. But I don't really get it. Or... How can something I don't even care for them to know make me so unhappy? It's ruining our relationship, and I don't even get why.

As of this I've been thinking: How can I possibly make my relationship with them any better? No, at the time being I'm not able to move out. And I'm not able to cut my contact with them either at the moment. And when it has come this far, I can't see any other solution than to do so. Maybe I'm too close to the problem to see it... If you got any suggestions, feel free to pass them on.

When I question them, I have to question myself. Am I making this problem? Probably yes, but they're not exactly helping on the situation either. Maybe I'm overthinking this little thing? It's not like it's lifechanging for them, I guess. It is for me, though. My chances of ending up pregnant on a party has been dramatically changed. To me that's good. But facing discrimination and hate because of who I am, that's not what you can call positive.

I'm making it bigger than it is, am I not? Why should my sexuality be such a big problem for them? It's on my shoulders, and it's me who got to deal with it, not them. I don't get why I even care...

Why do I care?

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Saving Letters

Dear mom and dad,

I wish life was easy. And I wish you understood me as me.

As from a young age I've had my problems. I've tend to be very angry at times, arguing and unhappy. As well as tearing on my own life, I've for sure made others' worse than it should. My life has been a roller coaster filled with some happiness and a lot of sadness. Didn't you see that?

I can remember that I once was very angry at school, and one day I refused to attend class after lunch break. Something came over me, I'm sure, even though I have no idea what it was. But I was so angry! I hit my teacher who tried to get me inside, I started screaming, and my eyes flooded with tears. I was broken, for whatever reason. After that episode the teacher called back home to tell you. You asked me, I didn't answer.

Sometimes, when I was in primary, I started to cry for no reason, usually in class. Maybe we were listening to some music to relax after a long day filled with Math, Norwegian and Science. Or it might've been me sitting by myself doing handcraft, thinking about everything and nothing. I just burst out in tears. What it was, I can't tell you. Because I have no idea. Or, at least it's just vague guesses.

What I know is that this sadness still got me. Somehow it won't leave an inch. Why am I like this?

There was this episode in third grade. The nurse was at the school to check how we were doing, measuring height and weight and stuff. Then we talked a little each with her. As a small school, this was what they did. Or... I guess so. I had to talk with her twice. This was right after your divorce, but I was feeling kinda OK. Still, I had to talk with the nurse twice. To this day I can't remember anything from our conversations, else than that I was crying real bad. I have no idea why - crying is the only thing I can remember.

This sadness hasn't managed to leave me to this date. It's not as present as it was when I was younger, but it sure is here today too. I want it to leave!

Today I'm a different person than one and a half year ago. I'm not as stupid and naive, and I've become a more real person. But I'm still hiding, and I'm still sad. The last year I've learned a lot about myself. I know stuff about myself I kind of hoped you would notice, and kind of hoped you'd never see. I'm not telling you that right now, and right direct, but I want to know this: Didn't you see?

I've been depressed. I've been too close to suicide. I've been hating myself so bad. Some of it is gone now, some of it isn't. How couldn't you see that? Your psychiatrists for God's sake! And you didn't see the signs. Maybe you wouldn't see. I don't know. And no, it's not over yet. I've got quite a way to go before I'm really real and myself. But I've made it so far, so why shouldn't I manage to walk the last bit without you?

I've been alone. I am alone. Let's hope the rest of the road will be easier to find and easier to follow. What I've learned? Life isn't easy. Maybe it's not supposed to be easy either. But you're making things so much harder when you're without someone - anyone - by your side.

You don't see what's right in front of you, right?


If life was as easy as writing a letter. And yes, this is me being fully honest. Not 97% honest, as to this blog, not 85% honest, as to the psychologist. But a 100 percent honest. Follow my lead?

My life is a lie. Deal with it.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Thoughts Of A Creative Soul

I don't know what to write. Trust me, I'll sure find something to rant about, but this blog isn't for ranting over my thoughts and beliefs. This blog is just for my sorrow, hope and loss into the life of being me. So, now I don't know. Or, it'll come along the way.

Past couple of weeks I've been coming out to several people. It's been easier and better than I expected, though more weird, crazy, hard and more more weird than I could ever imagine. Sounds crazy? I bet you it's been worse than that.

I've told a person I wouldn't imagine telling about my sexuality to. I've heard weird things come out of my teacher's mouth because she didn't know if she was following the rules correctly or not. I've ruined my life to build it up again, all within a few hours. I've been acting, hiding, lying, real, truthful and myself. I've been weird as well as normal, and hating as well as loving. But I've not been hateful.

When I told this person I was never really planning on telling, I was relieved. Then confused. With relief, sadness, anger and disappointment to follow. I think I'll end with disappointment. Because she already knew. She's been reading this blog for quite some time now, and she already knew.

I'm probably exposing this "drama", if I can call it so, too much right now. But I can't get over it. I just can't. Maybe it'll stay with me for the rest of my life, just as a reminder. Hopefully not, but you never know. No, it's not because I'm hurt, but because... No, I don't really know. It'll just stay.

Am I giving everybody some sort of bad guilt right now? Because I don't want to be a blamer. The only thing I want right now is to let everything go away, letting me be alone, and this to be out of the world. Like really, who needs this shit? I don't need this sort of negativity around me, nor within me. But it won't go away.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Feelings. Weird Feelings.

Note: I don't care whatever the time is. This is life.

OK. This has been a day. A freakin' weird day. Or, not really actually, it's been more amazing. Because guess what, I said it! I freakin' said it! "I'm a lesbian" came out of my mouth today. And not to a total stranger over the phone, but to people in real life.

I haven't written it yet (or I might've spammed those of you who're on Twitter with it), but I managed to say "I'm a lesbian" to this Monday. Over the phone to a lady in Oslo. OK, I could've called a helpline or something. But that was definitely not what was happening. Because I called in to the host of a youth radio show. And then I went on air. Saying I am a lesbian.

How freakin' amazing ain't that?! It sounds really weird, I'm totally aware, but I still see it as a tremendous step for me to be able to say that word. Monday February 15th 2010 is the date I came to acknowledge myself, and to be true. Because that's the date when I really came out to myself.

Now, that's not what happened today. This is six days after. But today I was finally able to come out to some of my friends. Me and some of my friends (including one of the two good friends who's actually reading this (Hi!)) gathered to watch a movie and just hang out, and after a few (also known as a million) talks about it, me and the friend who knows about this whole mess decided that today would be a day to come out to people. So I did! I don't know how, but I did.

After the movie was finished, my friend suggested that we should all talk about our crushes, just to make me more uncomfortable so I would actually come through with this. And I promise you, even before this she sent me a billion looks to make me start with this thing. But there we sat, and everybody told who they has/had a crush on, one by one. Then it got to be my turn.

"Ehm... I don't know..." I first tried. Then one of my friends thought me and a guy we met at project week had a really good connection, so she (of course) "accused" me of liking this guy. No good luck with that, though. Then, after discussing this way too much (not for a long time, though), I said: "There's something I want to tell you guys." Not too many listened way too carefully what I was saying (it's not like I'm shouting "I WANT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!" when it's about stuff like this), so my friend was just like "SHE WANNA TELL YOU ALL SOMETHING!" to get everyone's attention.

My lovely mind was just blank for a second, and then I tried going with "I'm...". And at last I said it. That last sentence sounds weird in my head, but whatever. I freakin' said it! So now I'm the lesbian in the bunch who can tell if a wannabe-cool-blogger is sexy or not. Works for me!

No, but really, it was a frightening experience. But I'm glad it's all over. Still, just imagining I'll have to do this for way too many times kind of bothers me. But you got to live with it. We all have our struggles. It's very scary though, to know that now there's way more people who knows who I really am. But now I can be more and more myself. And that I'm grateful.

It's a weird feeling.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010


This Monday was crazy... Like, 110% crazy. Unbelievably crazy.

Skeiv Ungdom came to visit us this Monday. Three queers, one guy and two girls, came and talked about being gay, diferency and gender roles. I know two of them...

Actually I wasn't freaked out all the way, the whole class. Just a bit; A minor feeling haunting me. But it wasn't that big of a deal. And she I've been talking with kept her promise of not telling anyone or acting out anything that can "spill my secret". Quite professional, if I'm to say something about the experience. But I was terrified afterward, and I walked out of the room with a heart beating faster and harder than in quite a some time...

Still, no matter how much I tried to not do anything, keeping it as normal, I had to say something after class to them. "You did great" was the only thing I managed to say, before I walked fast towards the door, with a "Thank you" in my right ear. I still, two days later, can't understand how I managed to not freak totally out. How I stayed somewhat calm (at least on the outside) is a mystery to me.

After school, I thought I should go and say "Hi" to them. I didn't. I was just freaked out, and didn't know what to say. And I was so scared anyone would ever see me talking to them. No, if I'm to come out, I'll do it my way. But I survived, thankfully.

About coming out: I'm thinking about it. Like, not to my family or anything, but to a couple of more friends (hopefully to all of them). Monday was also a day where I actually did come out to a guy who's kinda interested in me. It's come to a point where it's not so sweet and innocent anymore, so I thought I should just tell him that I "hang with the people from Skeiv Ungdom too". Not a lot of reaction from him, but we'll see...

Anyways, If I'm to come out at school, I think I have to talk with my former teacher first. I don't want to end up being the odd gay girl who's just found weird by the teachers. Of course most of the teachers are totally OK. No matter what I want to talk to her about it, because she was the one who had to deal with me when I was a crazy girl last school year. And I want to tell her, because I've sort of promised her that once or twice.

But if I'm going to come out at school, I have to make a plan. There's no chance I'm ever going to tell my family about my "extravaganza" before I'm out of their house, hopefully economically independent. I'm just scared a couple of birds will spread the rumor and let anyone of them hear it. I'm tired of living a lie, but sometimes honesty can be worse than lies.

I don't know. Let's gather the troops and make a plan!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

The Gays And The Lesbos - Organized

It's Saturday. Two days until it's Monday. Mondays are scary. You kinda never know what's gonna happen. Though, if you're not a psychic, you can't know what's to come any other days either. I can't. And you probably can't either.

This Monday to come is even more scary than usual. Because our school is going to be visited by Skeiv Ungdom, an organization for LGBTQ youth. And I know her, the person coming. Because I've met her. At an Skeiv Ungdom event. Because I'm freakin' gay, and in the closet.

I'm kind of excited, though. Because I guess it's going to be interesting to really get to know someone's history. I know a lot of histories, though. But that hasn't made it easier for me, I guess. I'm still here though - queer, halfway in denial and not exactly loving myself. But you never know what's going to happen tomorrow. Or in 1 3/4 day.

Damn, she knows me! If I met her almost anywhere else than at my school, I would totally say "Hi!" to her. But this is in school. I'm not really ready to come out. And even though a lot of people know someone who's gay, I don't. That's kind of weird. And it's kind of freaking me out that I now know, and that it gets this close to me. Once it was in the city, far from all of my family and friends, and I could leave whenever I wanted. This Monday it will, for a sudden, be right in front of me, in my "real" life.

I'm glad my school get visited though. And Norway is a great country regarding that, because there's a lot of freedom here. The gays and the lesbos can get organized, and they get financial support from the state. And we learn about sexuality at school. But it's scary. I'm living a double life, one where I'm straight and all good, and one where I'm the real me. But on Monday they'll kind of meet.

Maybe I'll say "Hi!"... We'll see. I can't predict the future.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

My Little Gay World

This is crazy. Or, my life is crazy. At least a little. Or maybe it isn't, I just want it to be. And I use it as an excuse for not blogging the last couple of weeks.

Actually, I don't need an excuse. I'm the one deciding. And I decided to not put a post up because I've really felt like crap these past two weeks. You just know when you should just lock yourself inside your room and listen to music and not torturing other people with your own shit. I really don't. But I (sort of) did this time.

But here I am. Once again. I'm torn into pieces. I'm a total mess, as usual. Or... It's actually moving forward. I'm learning to accept myself for who I am. But it's going slowly. And it's not easy at all. Anyway, this is what's been going on:

I told one of my close friends that I'm seeing a therapist. She's OK with that, and she didn't begin to dig down deep into why. But I also found out she doesn't "approve" homosexuality. Yes, I've known her for quite some years now, and I know she isn't that a liberal person. Her beliefs set quite a standard for her, so I'm not surprised to finally find out what she really thinks. And even though she isn't accepting gays at the moment, I know that she is a person who can see good in people. It kind of hurts when I know one of my closest friends dislike homosexuality, but I can live with it.

Another friend of mine also got something to say regarding gays. From earlier experiences I've discovered that she got some strong opinions on certain subjects, but I actually haven't heard her criticize homosexuality before to this date. But today she told me, as well as her best friend (being there with us), her stands on gay marriage. As about everyone in her church she's against. No surprise after all, but I didn't expect her to say that a person's sexuality can be changed.

For my friend to say that all gays, including me, can change, really hurts. Changing a person's sexuality is in my eyes not possible. And when you get that thrown into your face, no matter if you're out or not, that's just... No, I don't like it. But I was so happy when her best friend, who's also a friend of mine, said that you "really can't change it. You're just born that way." But as said, I know some of my friends, and a whole bunch of my family, aren't accepting homosexuality. Yes, it hurts. But I can't sit on that the rest of my life. I got to build my own life, and live it how I want it to be.

So, except the gay bashing and a mentally roller coaster ride, I've been talking with the psych again. Well, I guess this is the major thing causing the roller coaster, but whatever. You get the point. Anyway: This Tuesday I was at the psych again. I had, as the time before, promised myself that this was the day I would say "I'm gay" to somebody. And guess if that happened? Nope...

It's getting better, though. I actually said "I like girls" like 10 times in one session! For me that's almost unbelievable. But I did it. And it actually released some of the weight on my shoulders. I'm not sure if that is how it will be - that my stress/anxiety level will be at this point or lower for the rest of my life - but hopefully I'll not end up as horrible as I've been the last couple of weeks ever again. Still, I don't know how it will go, but maybe I got a somewhat more positive view on it all now.

A little side note on the psych: Today, in studies class, my teacher came up to me. She was the one I had to tell I'm seeing a psychologist so I won't have to tell my parents, and she's been acting weird and over-caring since. And that's been quite annoying. But what she told me today, that's not annoying at all. That's just freaky.

"So, are you still seeing the psychologist? I haven't seen you skip school in the last couple of weeks..."
she said to me.
"Yes, I got some sessions after school."
"OK, then. I guess that's for the best..."
"Yeah... Sure." And no, I was not to mention that I'll skip an hour and a half in 14 days. You're to take every day as it comes, right?
"Is it OK to talk to 'Henry' then?" my teacher keeps on.
"Yeah... Guess so..."
"You know, I know him, you see. And he's very easy to talk to." And no, I did not know that...
"Well, I guess there's a reason he's a psychologist..."
"Sure, but it's not everyone it's as easy to talk to."
"No, guess not," I finish.

Scary! And I thought I had stopped thinking all conspiracies, because that's what's for the best... Apparently that's not a fact. Because I've actually thought about that. He could know someone I know as well. And that's scary. And freaky.

Well, it's just to wait for the future to tell what will happen... Sorry about writing miles, but this might become my self biography someday. And that book got to be with some pages!

Monday, January 18, 2010

I'm Tired = I Can't Feel

Warning: This is a "My life sucks" blog. Bare with me.

Yesterday... was a nightmare. Or, at least the evening was. The whole night I was walking around tired as hell. But the clock in my head says I can't just go to bed at 6PM, no matter how tired I am. So I didn't. But when the clock inside my brain told me it was time to sleep, I couldn't.

What I do when I can't sleep? Thinking about life and writing about it. So I did, but not here. To turn on the computer again wasn't that a good idea, so I wrote in my diary instead. But sharing as I am, I give you a summary here:

Sunday January 17 2010
Right now I don't feel anything. Or... I'm empty. I know for sure that I have thousands of feelings kept inside my head, but at the moment I can't find them. I was about to write that "it's so frustrating", but I can't really feel that either. I know I feel it somewhere deep inside, but knowing versus experiencing is so different.
I've read that some people, when in pain, lock out their feelings. That it's something the brain just does, so the person can keep on fighting.
People serving in conflict areas for the army is supposed to learn how to control what you feel and not, controlling the part of the brain that escape your feelings. But ex-servants still end up with post-traumatic stress...
No, feelings won't pass today.Wait; I think I'm feeling! I'm tired. That's what I feel. I'm freakin' tired.

That was my feelings of yesterday. No feelings and sleepiness.

Blah. I was tired as hell, but couldn't sleep. My head was (and still is) filled with thoughts and feelings, but I can't really feel the feelings. My brain stopped. Actually, it's still on "Stop". To hell with it. I'm sleeping now. It's half past 7 - believe it or not. Hour worth of sleeping.

No hard feelings. No feelings at all, to be more precisely.

Monday, January 11, 2010

The Talking In Norwegian Thing

Would anyone please tell me why I can't say "gay", "queer" nor "lesbian" in Norwegian? I beg you, it would help me a lot.

So, can I say it's official? One year ago, around this time, I finally understood myself and my feelings. I'm gay. Or, right now, I'm having an argue with my psychologist and myself because I got problems convincing myself that I understand my feelings, but that's another story. Anyway, let's set January as the month to celebrate. Or, do you celebrate the anniversary for when you came to terms with your own sexuality? Just wondering. Now, whatever.

Now, I think I'm going to push myself onto the track I was supposed to follow when writing this. OK, let's do this.

I'm here, I'm queer. It's A; OK to be gay. 2QTBSTR8, actually. So, why the heck can't I just say it? Actually, I can. In English. But that doesn't matter, because I live in Norway, and my mother tongue is Norwegian. That's why I got to actually be able to say "I'm gay" in Norwegian. But at this time, I don't.

To be honest, I have no idea why the words won't leave my tongue. "I just can't say it," I told my psych for the 18th time today. I guess he understood, but I don't. It's just three freakin' words!

No, I have no idea. I wish it was easier. Let it slip away, and forget it. My wish. And what is most confusing to me is that I have no problem whatsoever saying "I'm gay" in English. But in Norwegian everything stops. I can't even write it! So, now neither communication methods, speaking nor writing, works to express this feeling.

It's about who I fall in love with, and who I wish I could screw. That's it. It's not much, is it? Or...? Well, maybe it is. Because it's about who I, in the future, want to share my life with. But when I can't even express myself, how the heck am I supposed to make that happen?

Shitty, shitty. I gotta get a life, and stop blogging. But I can't. It's kind of an obsession...

I'm gay - Jeg er ...

Friday, January 8, 2010


I went to church today... For some reason I ended up in some kind of church today. And I wish I never did.

So, way before Christmas, a friend of mine asked me if I would come with her to a meeting at a local congregation. As several of my friends, family and acquaintances, she's quite a conservative Christian, with a somewhat old-fashioned view of the world. My father has for quite some time now wanted me to go to one of the congregation's meetings, putting this particular friend as an example. So I accepted. I could possibly learn something new, and some other friends of mine (both more liberal (and some atheists)) were coming too.

What I've heard about the meetings varies a lot. Some love it, others find it weird and/or crazy. But I've always tried to stay positive when it comes to religions, as long as it's not affecting me too much. And yes, religions, and then especially Christianity, has caused me a lot of problems. Still, I try to stay as positive as possible, and not judge. Because I've also seen religions make people happy. And as long as my friends are happy, I don't bother too much about their religious beliefs.

Anyway, I knew I had nothing else to expect than a little dose of craziness. And crazy it went. Kind of. Or, as crazy and weird as this kind of meetings can get. But I would never have expected my reactions. No matter how brainwashed they were, and I can (somewhat) take brainwashed, when they started to sing... I just felt the need to cry. Because never have I've been reminded more of my background than the moment they started singing about how God is supposed to be a savior. And when people raised their hands for some sort of praise to God or something... No, I was totally overwhelmed.

There's something with Christianity that makes me shudder. I feel so uncomfortable with the praising and believing. And what they sometimes end up saying... No, I just think it's horrible. It puts you under a lot of pressure; In this tiny little box where you're supposed to live, breathe and survive. And every single time I end up thinking about Christianity, my sexuality comes to mind. Because for a lot of Christians here have a problem with the true me...

But when I see how some of my friends' faces lights up the minute they hear something read from the Bible; Or that their smile is almost stopping them singing because they smile so brightly. That's what's making me surprised, but happy for these friends. Because as long as they're happy and somewhat healthy, I want them to be themselves. No matter how crazy their opinions might seem.

Maybe that's one of the things that breaks my heart when I try to place myself in a Christian setting... No, I don't know. But I wish it was different. I don't like to judge, not me, nor anyone else.

Phrase of wisdom: Happiness can create hell.

Monday, January 4, 2010

To Write Or Not To Write

I thought about quitting. Maybe I shouldn't sit here in my room in front of the Mac complaining over my life for the whole world. Because to be honest, I'll have to say that the posts are getting more and more depressing and negative. But I'm really not sure...

Over my blog you can see a blue banner made by the Blogspot creators. There are some "Report this" and "Report that" links, and there's a "Next blog" button as well. Curious as I am, I had to push that to check it out. So I ended up at some random blog. And the only thing I could see was children. A lot of them.

I really don't have any specific thoughts on children more than that they're irritating. Way too many people love and adore children, but I don't. Why I have no idea, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that when I pushed "Next blog" again, there where more children. And after that, even more! Pictures of children between the age of zero and eight years spamming the blogs at

I'm making you dislike me because I don't really like children. No, but seriously. And what I could see (for as long as I could handle (aka just a couple of seconds)) in these spamming pictures of children way too young to be exposed on the Internet, was that they were all so happy. And there my message got through (I hope).

All that happiness... It did something to me. It made me feel; Look for my feelings. I don't feel that sense of joy and happiness (as if you didn't get that already). Why? I guess that's the reason I talk with a psychologist three to four times a month. But still.

And believe me, I actually read something of what was posted too. All the positive vibes you could read both in and between the lines made me think a second or two. So, I'm considering to end the blog. I'm not deleting it whatsoever, because it's like some sort of evidence (so that if I ever end up doing something wrong, I can blame my psyche and possibly get away with more counseling, and no jail time).

Why am I even writing anymore? At this point I know about two people I know and am friends with that reads my blog. Maybe I'm writing for you, guys? Because verbal communication isn't really my thing. Through this blog I can then better explain what's happening to me, without messing up the words.

Maybe I shouldn't write for you either. Because it's not that fun to read such negative stuff I end up writing. Especially not when you know me, and I'm a friend. Or, at least I believe that's how it is. I can't say how you feel, though. Feelings are made in our own brain, and to understand others' feelings is hard. No, I have no idea.

We'll see. There's no day like tomorrow. My words of wisdom for today.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

It's Over

Now it's finally really over. The only family members within the radius of one mile right now are my mother and my brother. Usually I don't tend to thank any god for that, but now I certainly am. I now have gotten a minute of freedom, a minute of peace. It probably won't last for too long, but whatever. I don't care. It's the small victories that makes the big one.

When I think about it, it's kind of odd I got through this Christmas at all. As if I didn't have about a million thoughts running through my head, I also had to cope with my family. This Christmas my mother, my brother and I visited my mother's parents. And because they live quite far away, we had to stay with them the whole Christmas. It's not bad being where they live or anything, it's just the people I can't cope with 24/7. But I stayed through.

No, I'm not going to go down in every little detail explaining why everything is wrong this time, because if you've read previous posts, you'll totally know what's making the picture blurry. Instead I'll write something halfway positive. Because this Christmas, the Christmas of 2009, I managed to not come out. I kept on, doing my best to control my feelings, and didn't say a thing. And that's a good thing. At least for me, at this time.

I was scared when the holidays started. "What if I say something wrong?" was a thought running through my head, "What if I miss a word that shouldn't ever be mentioned?" I was scared to hell. As if I wasn't there already. The whole two weeks every single muscle in my body was tightened. I kept thinking, day and night, on that moment that could come. If I ever said anything wrong, I could end up in the cold, all alone.

The days went by. I managed to control myself. No, I couldn't relax, but I kept on going. I woke up, walked, took a breath. And thankfully the days passed. For a whole two weeks I managed to be there, with them. And now it's finally over. Thank a god.

That was my Christmas of 2009. Now I've got to feel for myself how it is suffering in the holidays. And I certainly know why the helplines get so many calls around Christmas. A lesson I would gladly be without, but now I know. It's a lesson of life.

Don't walk my shoes.

If you, for whatever matter, want to know more about my family, just click the tags "family", "grandpa", "grandfather", or "grandparents" and read. There's whatever I've written about them, and you might then get what I mean when I tell you how Christmas was for me.
Enjoy reading.