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!
Wash away the thoughts inside That keep my mind away from you No more love and no more pride And thoughts are all I have to do
http://xxxsimone.tumblr.com/
Right now I'm listening to Morning Bell/Amnesiac by Radiohead. There's this... Wooden drum, or maybe a bass guitar. In the far background. It sounds like heartbeat. If my heart would beat that ordinary, I would be amazed.
I carry a lot of shit. A lot of baggage. For some reason. There is a reason, of course. But it's a curse, so don't tell anyone. I still try to cry sometimes. It isn't very efficient, I can trust you. Maybe I'm only able to cry when there's somebody around? Actually, I can fake to cry. But I can't gather my mind and lose a tear or two.
I. Am. Happy. Did you know that? Fuck, now it seems as if I believe everybody reading this is stupidity himself. I'm sorry. But I am happy. At least when the world is somewhat good. I think I like being happy. It's somewhat comforting. But who cares for me now? I can't seek attention by being happy all the time. Or, I can get attention, but... You don't get that feeling when others feel sorry for you. I'm not even sure if I like that feeling. But I kinda miss being depressed. Bad sign?
Oh, what crap I've been writing down for the past two years. Scenario after scenario... Which none of then ever happened. Maybe for the good, though.
I'm messaging with this girl. She's really cool! And we actually have things in common (you didn't see that one coming, did you?). It feels good to have that. I think I'll call it friendship. You don't have to physically meet a person to be friends, right? No. She's a good person.
Every day is a day, no matter what. No matter what. I want to write a movie script.
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.
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 Still, The happiness isn't real I feel there's Something Missing 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.
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?
OK, so I finally told someone that I'm gay. Or, I added her on Twitter, and she found my blog. Which, I believe, might have been quite a shock. I don't know, because I kind of haven't got the guts to talk about it face to face with her. But we'll see, and now she might even read this (which scares me to hell).
Well, me on my way out of the closet isn't that exciting to read about (if any of my thoughts are), but my thoughts about religion and parts of my biological family. Because several persons in my family disagree the way I've chosen within religion.
To understand the whole thing there's some things necessary to know about my family:
* My grandfather was a minister, and even though he used to be preaching in a Protestant church he's doing a good time being Catholic in mind and soul.
* Dad's against abortion, gay rights and researching on stem cells, and a "true Christian."
* There's several others that's more than "a bit" Christian as well, but using a day writing about them ain't worth it.
Anyway, in Norway most of the 15-year-olds "confirm" their faith to God. There's thankfully other options as well, without the Christianity part. So I chose one of those options, against my family's will. Still I got it through. Well, after several weeks learning about religion, love, respect and so on, there was a celebration to celebrate me becoming an adult. Almost everyone in the family came, people held speeches for me and so.
Gramp have been going against it all the way (and he's probably praying for me getting "cured" as well), but I didn't care. In the party he held a speech, pointing out all the Christianity around me and so on. And he gave me a bible. Seriously? When I've tried for months saying I'm an Agnostic, he's giving me a bible!
The sad thing was that he kind of ruined my day. I was about to cry when he gave me it. But that's how it goes.
