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?

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 ...

Music Monday

Today is a day to drown in music. I'm going to listen to way too many songs, singing with and try to forget everything. Because music is like therapy for me.

So I was at my grandparents this weekend, celebrating my uncle's and my own birthday. It was an OK weekend with it's ups and downs, but whatever. It's to be forgotten. But I got a great gift though. I got a microphone! Like, to record music and stuff with. At least that's a plus for the weekend.

Anyway, today I'm rediscovering my music library. Some indie-pop, punk/rock and a (not too big) spoon of easy listening/soft pop will make my day. Because when you're listening to the music, you forget feeling. You forget living. Which is great! So now I'm gonna bounce around listening to some (for this soon-to-be 15-year-old) nice classics (and some new ones since I tend to easily move over to new songs).
High five for music!

Playlist:

Greenday - Holiday
Alejandro Fuentes - Tomorrow Only Knows
Bigband - Play Louder
DeLillos feat. Ida Maria - Flink
Lion King - The Lions Sleep Tonight
Empire Of The Sun - We Are The People
Kaizers Orchestra - Die Politzei
Kings Of Leon - Sex On Fire
Superfamily - The Radio Has Expressed Concerns About What You Did Last Night

I'm a total music geek... Just let it pass, will you?

Psychoanalyzing On A Higher Level

This day is both a failure and an improvement. We had semester finals in English today, where we was to choose between 5 different tasks to write about. I (of course) chose the one where you should write about something challenging you in life at this time, and I wrote this text about me being depressed and going to a shrink. Great (read with irony)! Now it's just to wait for the feedback. It probably sucks. And I delivered myself out way too much. But that be. Take it as it comes. And relax. Right?

So the English was a major failure. And the psych...? Actually not that bad after all. But I got this tension, and because he has a degree in psychology, he definitely noticed. We mostly talked about this tension and anxiety I have, that I don't like to talk about this whole gay thing, and what could happen if I come out. It was as if I sat on needles the whole hour, and I kind of feel it still at this point, but it was OK. He's a decent guy.

Though, I told him today that I write this blog, and that I write in English in stead of Norwegian. He replied that a lot of people do so (writing in another language than their mother tongue), and said that this is because when you write in another language than you talk on a daily basis, everything becomes more distant. Which I kind of figured out already. But that be. Psychiatrists as parents does something with you... My brother and I are perfect examples on that.

At the end he asked me whether I want to take it slow and kind of just gently swipe what I don't like to talk about, or go more directly into it. He must have sensed that I probably need a push into it. Because it really ain't easy. So I said it was OK to take it a bit more direct. Since we today didn't talk anything about my sexual orientation today, though we both probably knew that we were, just without mention any words on it...

So next appointment Thursday next week. Which is more frequently than before. I don't know whether that's good or bad, but whatever. I'll try not to worry too much now. Take it as it comes. Though that project will probably fail.

Yes, and the psychoanalyzing thing... He psychoanalyzes me, and I psychoanalyze him back. That's OK, right? It makes it easier for me, at least, when I believe I understand what he's thinking. I might not, but that be.

So now I'm officially a crazy blogger, blogging about me, myself and my life. Not so interesting... But please don't judge.

I'm Scared

I'm freakin' scared.



So... I'm back at the psych tomorrow. Which is terrifying. Last time I sat in that red chair I was stiff as a statue, could barely speak, and didn't really know what this actually means. So why am I even going?

Difficult things sucks. I really don't want do this. Discussing my life, my love, my person - me. Can't I just leave it alone? What if I just quit? Because I am a quitter, after all. And I can quit whenever I want. But why not?

It's not worth it. Quitting wont make it easier. It will probably just make it harder. Living on an eight all the time is worse than living on a ten sometimes, and five other times. But it wouldn't hurt if everything was a bit easier.

Maybe I'm not a quitter after all... Really, I don't know. But I know I'll try my best not quitting therapy (I can call it that now, right?) before I'm over this mess. Try my best. Doing what I'm supposed to do, what I'm asked to do. And right now I feel both myself and the rest of the world wants me to continue. Make it better for myself. And for everyone else.

I'm not going to quit. Still, I'm more than a little confused. Talking is really scary, confusing and bad at the same time. But I'm not going to quit.

Want to be scared with me?

Emotionally Crazy Ride Or Something

OK. Now breathe.

Yesterday I was talking with the nurse again. Alone. And I'm... Well, I think it's hard to talk about the whole gay issue (because it is now) in Norwegian. The words seem wrong, nothing really fit with my thoughts, and everything's just wrong. Which sucks. Big time. And I have no idea what to do.

So we talked for about 45 min (which is crazy long). Discussing everything, I guess. But it was like I didn't knew what to say because I didn't quite knew how I feel at the moment. So I kind of ended up pulling out a lot of shit, and blah... This is probably the first time I'm not quite sure how to express myself at all; The language(s), the words, the meanings, the feelings. Nothing's working right now concerning words. Not even written.

But still: I definitely see that I'm happier now than two weeks ago. So even though my thoughts are going crazy in my head, I've talked about it. And I see that writing can help, but talking in general can help more. Because for me it's way more personal to say something than writing something (even though I put my soul into my writing).

What scares me the most is if the nurse doesn't take me seriously (but I think she does). No, I have no idea what she can really do to help me. I don't see any solution. But somehow it is helping. Just getting everything out.

What is bad about this talking thing (except the fact that I'm lost in the world of words) is that I don't really know why I ended up at the nurse's office in the first place. No, I'm not happy with my life. I don't like to be gay. I'm scared. But is that the key to happiness? To not be scared anymore? To fully accept the fact that I'm gay? Will I see the good sides of life then? Or is it something else?

There might be something else. I've had some struggles in my life. But who hasn't? Why am I the sad girl, not someone else? Why am I in the emotional cellar?

All I want is to find out what's going on. Yes, I have been psychoanalyzing myself quite a few times (social heritage, don't blame me), but I can't find the root to this mess.

Blah. Self-psychoanalyzing sucks. Especially when it's me about me. Any idea what to do? What to say? I guess she thinks (or that's what my friend and I told her) it's all about the gay thing. Honestly, I don't know.

Anyway, she talked about sending me to this guy named Fredrik. I think he's a shrink or something. Psychologist. Can I say I hope she does? Because I do.

As said before: Shrinks and psychologists should not have kids. Or at least not with each other. Because they're crazy.