I'm in shock right now. All the feelings from 1,5 years ago, when I was depressed, are now coming back. I just saw him, my former therapist. And, in the irony of life, I've seen 10 episodes of In Treatment the last couple of days. And today, while walking to the supermarket just half an hour ago, I saw him. Fuck.
My therapist was a good guy. I really, really liked him. But honestly, I'm frightened right now. Not because he did anything odd when I saw him, but just because. You know, I had major panic attacks every time I had to go to his office. It was just... I don't know. Scary. He did great, but I still can't get over the fact that it all scared me loads.
I was walking. Down the last little hill before I you get to the supermarket. There were some cars coming up the hill, with some space in between. Just at a sudden, I saw a familiar face in the car. I always follow every car I pass on this way with my eyes, and I smile at them. Suddenly I realized who I saw. I couldn't believe it. I don't even know how to put this happening into words. But yeah. He smiled, I think. I don't know if he knew who I was, but maybe. I'm not sure if I've changed much in 1,5 years, I really don't. But suddenly I was like "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. What do I do now?" And then I had to relax myself, telling me to breathe and not to panic. Yeah, that worked fine...
Damn, I won't get depressed again now! I was thinking about seeing the school councilor at UWC, but I don't know. I'm fine, ain't I? There's nothing wrong me, right?
No, I'm not sure. I am fine, I trust you. But still. My relationship with father sucks, and yeah. But I don't know. I've come to believe that all artists have to be a bit mad. I'll easily confess that I'm a bit mad, but still. Is there anything more? I don't know. See, on one side I'd like to be really happy and to have no problems. On the other side I won't let that ruin my possibilities of becoming a great artist and performer. No, I don't know.
Don't freak out, Sunniva, you'll be okey.
Until We Bleed covered by Meghan Tonjes
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Saturday, July 2, 2011
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.
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
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.
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.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Surprise
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.
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, July 13, 2010
United
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.
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...
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...
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.
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
Low
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?
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?
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Crazy...
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!
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!
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!
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!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Trust Issues
After going to the psych a couple of times, I had to tell my main teacher about it. The first two times I was lucky enough to get appointments at days where I was to leave school earlier than normal because of tests and so, but you can't live on that. So I had to tell her that I had leave class earlier than usual because I had an appointment at the psych.
When I told her, she was like: "Are you OK?" I assured her I was, and then she asked why I was seeing a psych. "It's personal," was my comment. Because it is. And no, I'm not going to tell an irritating teacher in her fifties who is way too into the motherhood thing why I'm talking to the psych. No way.
But then I wrote this text (which I've posted earlier here) for my semester final in English. Because we have a pretty cool English teacher, who I don't really mind knowing. And no, I didn't cross fingers and toes wishing she wouldn't let the other teachers read it, because I don't really care. I would actually like it if she ever let my former English teacher read some of my texts (at least the good ones), because if she's impressed, she's really impressed. But my main teacher? Who don't even teach English...
And I didn't know that before today. Because when I, in Social where she's my teacher, said not everyone thinks writing about their feelings is easy, and that I possibly could be in that group, she was just like, "Oh, I know you can. I've read some of your texts, you see."
When that happens to others I would totally say "Burn..." And that was (clearly) a major burn. So now I know... My teachers are crazy. Or annoying. Both. But now I've definitely learned something new about some of them.
What's the purpose of reading a student's writing when you're not near grading it? She doesn't even teach English! And no, I don't care whether she's my main teacher or not; She's got nothing to do reading it!
Today's mix: Trust issues and anger problems. I bet she's psychoanalyzing me in her sparetime. Yay...!
When I told her, she was like: "Are you OK?" I assured her I was, and then she asked why I was seeing a psych. "It's personal," was my comment. Because it is. And no, I'm not going to tell an irritating teacher in her fifties who is way too into the motherhood thing why I'm talking to the psych. No way.
But then I wrote this text (which I've posted earlier here) for my semester final in English. Because we have a pretty cool English teacher, who I don't really mind knowing. And no, I didn't cross fingers and toes wishing she wouldn't let the other teachers read it, because I don't really care. I would actually like it if she ever let my former English teacher read some of my texts (at least the good ones), because if she's impressed, she's really impressed. But my main teacher? Who don't even teach English...
And I didn't know that before today. Because when I, in Social where she's my teacher, said not everyone thinks writing about their feelings is easy, and that I possibly could be in that group, she was just like, "Oh, I know you can. I've read some of your texts, you see."
When that happens to others I would totally say "Burn..." And that was (clearly) a major burn. So now I know... My teachers are crazy. Or annoying. Both. But now I've definitely learned something new about some of them.
What's the purpose of reading a student's writing when you're not near grading it? She doesn't even teach English! And no, I don't care whether she's my main teacher or not; She's got nothing to do reading it!
Today's mix: Trust issues and anger problems. I bet she's psychoanalyzing me in her sparetime. Yay...!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Regrets
Life isn’t easy
We all face challenges in our lives. Some of us are luckier than others, but whether you’re richer than Zimbabwe or live in the slum of Brasilia, you will always have problems. You might have to fight for your life every single day because you don’t have money to buy you food. Or you might struggle with your sexuality or have problems at home because your mother beats your younger brother when he can’t sleep at night. And that’s what makes us humans.
The last couple of years I’ve had problems. Not in the way that I haven’t had a place to live, or that I got beaten at home. I’m actually quite fortunate in that perspective, living in a country with good health care system and a school system where everyone is included. Both my parents are working, and I have the food and clothes I need. I must say I’m very lucky living this life. But, everyone has problems. It’s a part of life not being 100% happy all the time. Still, you’re supposed to see the good sides of life too. Not everyone does. And I’m one of them.
Depression is the word. A study said that about one out of ten adolescents have a mild to moderate depression. I don’t know if I would take it that far, but I know there are other people out there having problems like mine. Nobody’s alone, I’m sure. It’s just to see the others. But if you first end up in the bad circle, it’s hard to see that. It’s easy to look at the bad things, and forget that there are things that can be positive as well. And that bad circle is really hard to break.
But what can cause a person to end up with solely negative thoughts? How can it all end up that bad? Is a previous event relevant? Or is it more based on feelings? In my case it is more a mixture. That might be it for the majority of us. Example: You can stand being bullied once, but you usually can’t take the bullying if it happens on a daily basis. Also, when you end up with a depression, something got over the top. It might be that last hit from your classmate, or that last comment your family made about your dressing style. Or that you overheard your father talking about Caster Semenya and that he thinks she should be disqualified from the World Championship because she looks like a man, when you were about to go and tell him that you don’t feel like a woman, though you were born one. It is that last push and the negative feelings that usually do it.
I have my own reasons for not being happy. We all have. That doesn’t mean we can’t be happy sometimes. Not all the time, that’s impossible, only sometimes. But if you have too many bad feelings at the same time, you might end up in that bad circle, and you can’t see the good sides anymore. Then it is to realize. Realize what you’re really going through, see that you need help, and then seek for the help.
Seeking for help might be even worse than being in the bad circle. Maybe you have an idea of what makes you depressed, maybe not. If you think you know the answer, you might not want to realize it, even though you have the knowledge. What if your loved ones are causing you trouble? And if you don’t know, what do you do then? Will the one you try to talk to even understand?
I was directed to a psychologist when I finally got up the courage to talk with somebody about my problems. The day I took contact might have been the worst day of my life, as I was so frightened what would happen. A thousand questions ran through my head. When I first got up the courage to tell, I didn’t say directly that I wasn’t happy with life; I rather told an “excuse”, a smaller part of the whole thing. That I have problems with my family was a good enough part of the story to make the people I talked with understanding. And if you don’t know what to say, that’s what you say. Explain that you’re not happy with life, but that you don’t know what to do. They will understand. And when you finally ask for help, everything will get better.
Life is scary sometimes. I’ve faced some of the scariest parts I imagine you can fill a life with, and I still have more to come. It helps, though. Facing reality isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. And you’ll get so much out of it. I know I will, when I’ve overcome my struggles. I know that when I can take the bad sides of life, I’ll be a very strong person. Going through this will help me another day when I have another challenge in life, and it might even help others. But it is scary. And difficult. But that’s how it’s like to be a human. It isn’t easy. Because life isn’t easy.
OK, so that was what I wrote as my semester final yesterday. Now it's out here in my not-real life as well as in my English teacher's hands. "A very strong text! Your English is excellent!" is what she said about it. But still, I think I shouldn't have done it. I really shouldn't have written about the psych.
So now I regret. Damn, how great! They shouldn't know it, right? Why should they? I go to the psych now and then, and then I give my main teacher a note from the psych because mom and dad don't know. There was no point in writing about it so another teacher of mine would know, and if she reads it loud in front of the other teachers (which they do sometimes) everyone will know. Every freaking teacher in 10th might know by now!
This was not supposed to happen.
We all face challenges in our lives. Some of us are luckier than others, but whether you’re richer than Zimbabwe or live in the slum of Brasilia, you will always have problems. You might have to fight for your life every single day because you don’t have money to buy you food. Or you might struggle with your sexuality or have problems at home because your mother beats your younger brother when he can’t sleep at night. And that’s what makes us humans.
The last couple of years I’ve had problems. Not in the way that I haven’t had a place to live, or that I got beaten at home. I’m actually quite fortunate in that perspective, living in a country with good health care system and a school system where everyone is included. Both my parents are working, and I have the food and clothes I need. I must say I’m very lucky living this life. But, everyone has problems. It’s a part of life not being 100% happy all the time. Still, you’re supposed to see the good sides of life too. Not everyone does. And I’m one of them.
Depression is the word. A study said that about one out of ten adolescents have a mild to moderate depression. I don’t know if I would take it that far, but I know there are other people out there having problems like mine. Nobody’s alone, I’m sure. It’s just to see the others. But if you first end up in the bad circle, it’s hard to see that. It’s easy to look at the bad things, and forget that there are things that can be positive as well. And that bad circle is really hard to break.
But what can cause a person to end up with solely negative thoughts? How can it all end up that bad? Is a previous event relevant? Or is it more based on feelings? In my case it is more a mixture. That might be it for the majority of us. Example: You can stand being bullied once, but you usually can’t take the bullying if it happens on a daily basis. Also, when you end up with a depression, something got over the top. It might be that last hit from your classmate, or that last comment your family made about your dressing style. Or that you overheard your father talking about Caster Semenya and that he thinks she should be disqualified from the World Championship because she looks like a man, when you were about to go and tell him that you don’t feel like a woman, though you were born one. It is that last push and the negative feelings that usually do it.
I have my own reasons for not being happy. We all have. That doesn’t mean we can’t be happy sometimes. Not all the time, that’s impossible, only sometimes. But if you have too many bad feelings at the same time, you might end up in that bad circle, and you can’t see the good sides anymore. Then it is to realize. Realize what you’re really going through, see that you need help, and then seek for the help.
Seeking for help might be even worse than being in the bad circle. Maybe you have an idea of what makes you depressed, maybe not. If you think you know the answer, you might not want to realize it, even though you have the knowledge. What if your loved ones are causing you trouble? And if you don’t know, what do you do then? Will the one you try to talk to even understand?
I was directed to a psychologist when I finally got up the courage to talk with somebody about my problems. The day I took contact might have been the worst day of my life, as I was so frightened what would happen. A thousand questions ran through my head. When I first got up the courage to tell, I didn’t say directly that I wasn’t happy with life; I rather told an “excuse”, a smaller part of the whole thing. That I have problems with my family was a good enough part of the story to make the people I talked with understanding. And if you don’t know what to say, that’s what you say. Explain that you’re not happy with life, but that you don’t know what to do. They will understand. And when you finally ask for help, everything will get better.
Life is scary sometimes. I’ve faced some of the scariest parts I imagine you can fill a life with, and I still have more to come. It helps, though. Facing reality isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. And you’ll get so much out of it. I know I will, when I’ve overcome my struggles. I know that when I can take the bad sides of life, I’ll be a very strong person. Going through this will help me another day when I have another challenge in life, and it might even help others. But it is scary. And difficult. But that’s how it’s like to be a human. It isn’t easy. Because life isn’t easy.
OK, so that was what I wrote as my semester final yesterday. Now it's out here in my not-real life as well as in my English teacher's hands. "A very strong text! Your English is excellent!" is what she said about it. But still, I think I shouldn't have done it. I really shouldn't have written about the psych.
So now I regret. Damn, how great! They shouldn't know it, right? Why should they? I go to the psych now and then, and then I give my main teacher a note from the psych because mom and dad don't know. There was no point in writing about it so another teacher of mine would know, and if she reads it loud in front of the other teachers (which they do sometimes) everyone will know. Every freaking teacher in 10th might know by now!
This was not supposed to happen.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Too Desperate
I'm totally too desperate. Just check out what I wrote this Monday for a written task in English... The task was to "write a modern short story about two people in love, and parents who, for some reason, don't accept it."
Hiding
“Hi! Come inside. Christopher? Daniel is here!” Chris’ mother closed the door after Dan. And just within a couple of seconds he could see Chris at the top of the staircase. His beautiful smile lightened the whole face of Chris, and Dan couldn’t do other than to smile back at him.
“Hi!” Chris said, “I’ve just started reading. Come upstairs!”
They went into his room and sat down on the bed. Dan opened his bag and pulled out his English books.
“So…” Chris went, “Have you thought about it yet?”
“Eh… What?” said Dan, looking at Chris.
“Well, do you want us to be a couple?”
“Oh, that. Of course I want to. It’s just… You know, difficult.”
“I know it’s difficult. Life is difficult! And I don’t mean we should go official or anything. I’m not crazy. But… Well, I don’t know.” Chris lowered his head.
“Listen, Chris: I really like you. And I want to be with you. But my family, your family and the whole town make it hard.” Now Dan took Chris’ hands in his: “Let’s be together. I would love to. OK?”
“OK.” Now Chris smiled: “I really do love you.”
“So, senior prom is next Friday. Have you got a date yet?” Dan’s best friend, Greg, asks him after PE class.
“Well, not really…” Dan said. Or, technically he did have a date, but could he pull it through with Chris?
“You have to ask Jessica,” Greg kept going, as in another world: “She’s totally the sexiest girl of the seniors. Or, didn’t Dylan ask her? Now, I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, right?”
“Yeah…” Dan replied, not interested.
“Anyway, you better get on gear before all the hotties are gone!”
Get on gear… No, more likely get the courage to go to prom with a guy. Courage, that was the thing.
“Chris?” Dan said. He sat on the green carpet on the floor, and looked up at Chris studying in the bed: “Do you want to go to prom with me?”
“What?” he said, surprised.
“You and me. At prom. Do you want to?”
“Are you seriously?” Dan nodded. “Yes! Of course I will! But wait. What about Mom and Dad? They’re definitely going to find out if we go.”
“Then we have to tell them.”
Chris and Dan were terrified about telling them. Both of their families were Catholics, and shared a vision that a man and a woman should get married and have children. Not to men. What if they denied it all? Or what if they would disown them, kick them out of the house and cut finances?
The evening before prom Chris checked over his suit for the last time. His mother entered his room: “So, who’s the lucky girl? You haven’t told me yet.”
“Mom, I have to tell you something,” Chris started: “I’m going to prom with Dan.”
“What? Are you…?” Chris’ mother asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“Then get out of my house.”
The doorbell rang at Dan’s house, and Dan opened. He had tears in his eyes, and the sound of someone crying inside reached all the way to the door.
“Oh… You told them as well?” Chris asked.
“Yes. What happened with you?” Dan could see that Chris carried a dark blue bag with him.
“I was kicked out of the house.”
“Shoot.”
Then Dan went to his room, packed a bag as well, and together he and Chris went outside to Dan’s car. They put their belongings into the trunk, and drove into the night.
“So, what do we do now?” Dan asked.
“I got an aunt in San Francisco. She might let us stay there a couple of days.”
“San Francisco... That’s a 12 hour drive.”
“True. But it’s probably the best solution at the moment.”
“Then let’s go.”
Read and judge me yourself. And yes; I did got an A+, even though I definitely didn't deserve it...
Hiding
“Hi! Come inside. Christopher? Daniel is here!” Chris’ mother closed the door after Dan. And just within a couple of seconds he could see Chris at the top of the staircase. His beautiful smile lightened the whole face of Chris, and Dan couldn’t do other than to smile back at him.
“Hi!” Chris said, “I’ve just started reading. Come upstairs!”
They went into his room and sat down on the bed. Dan opened his bag and pulled out his English books.
“So…” Chris went, “Have you thought about it yet?”
“Eh… What?” said Dan, looking at Chris.
“Well, do you want us to be a couple?”
“Oh, that. Of course I want to. It’s just… You know, difficult.”
“I know it’s difficult. Life is difficult! And I don’t mean we should go official or anything. I’m not crazy. But… Well, I don’t know.” Chris lowered his head.
“Listen, Chris: I really like you. And I want to be with you. But my family, your family and the whole town make it hard.” Now Dan took Chris’ hands in his: “Let’s be together. I would love to. OK?”
“OK.” Now Chris smiled: “I really do love you.”
“So, senior prom is next Friday. Have you got a date yet?” Dan’s best friend, Greg, asks him after PE class.
“Well, not really…” Dan said. Or, technically he did have a date, but could he pull it through with Chris?
“You have to ask Jessica,” Greg kept going, as in another world: “She’s totally the sexiest girl of the seniors. Or, didn’t Dylan ask her? Now, I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, right?”
“Yeah…” Dan replied, not interested.
“Anyway, you better get on gear before all the hotties are gone!”
Get on gear… No, more likely get the courage to go to prom with a guy. Courage, that was the thing.
“Chris?” Dan said. He sat on the green carpet on the floor, and looked up at Chris studying in the bed: “Do you want to go to prom with me?”
“What?” he said, surprised.
“You and me. At prom. Do you want to?”
“Are you seriously?” Dan nodded. “Yes! Of course I will! But wait. What about Mom and Dad? They’re definitely going to find out if we go.”
“Then we have to tell them.”
Chris and Dan were terrified about telling them. Both of their families were Catholics, and shared a vision that a man and a woman should get married and have children. Not to men. What if they denied it all? Or what if they would disown them, kick them out of the house and cut finances?
The evening before prom Chris checked over his suit for the last time. His mother entered his room: “So, who’s the lucky girl? You haven’t told me yet.”
“Mom, I have to tell you something,” Chris started: “I’m going to prom with Dan.”
“What? Are you…?” Chris’ mother asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“Then get out of my house.”
The doorbell rang at Dan’s house, and Dan opened. He had tears in his eyes, and the sound of someone crying inside reached all the way to the door.
“Oh… You told them as well?” Chris asked.
“Yes. What happened with you?” Dan could see that Chris carried a dark blue bag with him.
“I was kicked out of the house.”
“Shoot.”
Then Dan went to his room, packed a bag as well, and together he and Chris went outside to Dan’s car. They put their belongings into the trunk, and drove into the night.
“So, what do we do now?” Dan asked.
“I got an aunt in San Francisco. She might let us stay there a couple of days.”
“San Francisco... That’s a 12 hour drive.”
“True. But it’s probably the best solution at the moment.”
“Then let’s go.”
Read and judge me yourself. And yes; I did got an A+, even though I definitely didn't deserve it...
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Day To Day
It's been a while since I last posted something about myself right now and what's happening in my life, so I thought "Why not?". Here you go:
School started August 17th. It was just back to do the ordinary stuff with the ordinary people. Or almost. A great teacher, whom I trusted, switched to another class, which sucks. So it's not as easy to talk to her anymore, and she's one of the few I can trust. Now I probably have to do it all myself (damn it).
The thing I have to do is to talk, like really talk, to someone. Someone who can get me out of this darkness. Which means I got to increase my courage up to a level that makes me able to talk about this stuff. And go talk with somebody.
Everything is so much easier inside my head. If I actually could talk about my feelings, I wouldn't be held back with everything today. But I'm too scared.
The plan is to go and talk with the nurse. But a) I don't want to skip class, and b) I can't even knock on that (excuse my language) fucking door. So I have no idea what to do. Except psychoanalyzing myself. Which is scary, and not really working.
Session done for today. Mark in protocol: Never ever become a shrink, marry another one and have children. It's just not a good idea.
School started August 17th. It was just back to do the ordinary stuff with the ordinary people. Or almost. A great teacher, whom I trusted, switched to another class, which sucks. So it's not as easy to talk to her anymore, and she's one of the few I can trust. Now I probably have to do it all myself (damn it).
The thing I have to do is to talk, like really talk, to someone. Someone who can get me out of this darkness. Which means I got to increase my courage up to a level that makes me able to talk about this stuff. And go talk with somebody.
Everything is so much easier inside my head. If I actually could talk about my feelings, I wouldn't be held back with everything today. But I'm too scared.
The plan is to go and talk with the nurse. But a) I don't want to skip class, and b) I can't even knock on that (excuse my language) fucking door. So I have no idea what to do. Except psychoanalyzing myself. Which is scary, and not really working.
Session done for today. Mark in protocol: Never ever become a shrink, marry another one and have children. It's just not a good idea.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Always Look At Bright Side Of Life
Yes, I think it's pretty important to look at the bright side, but sometimes you have to deal with the bad things as well. It's not good to store the bad feelings, but talk about the things bothering and get over with it. I tried to deal with the bad stuff yesterday, but it didn't work out like I wanted:
I've talked about talking with someone with a good friend of mine (because she's the only one who knows) and we figured out I should ask my teacher about going to the nurse. (In the beginning the plan was to tell her everything, but my teacher is a little bit intimidating, so we figured out just to go for the nurse thing.)
I finally talked to her, but that was like 2 1/2 week before summer break. My teacher couldn't get the nurse on the phone, so she said if it "was in a hurry" I could just go downstairs to her office at the 10th.
So I did go to her office in the lunch break (me halfway dragging my friend, she halfway dragging me), but no one opened the door. Then I pretty much gave up, even though I probably should have skipped class and go down to her (but we're working on a school play, so it wasn't the best time doing it).
Looking at the bright side I did talk to my teacher (I'm so shy that it's quite unbelievable that I actually did), and I'll try again after the summer holidays.
And that song is so awesome!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Who Cares?
Arguing. Discussions. Every person got it's own point of view, even though it sometimes isn't very strong presented. So; Why do we even care being disagree?
I just checked in on the discussion forum on Unge Venstre's web page. Scrolling down on several topics, a thought popped into my mind: Why do we even care? Why do we start arguing in the first place? Why care about politics?
Well, I'm pretty obsessed with politics, and it's hard to not find anything to discuss when talking to me. I got an opinion on everything. And something I find very negative in our present society is how many who tends to not care. OK, maybe it's something that have been for forever, but really? REALLY?! How can't you care about your wage, children's education, health care and civil rights? You serious?
Still, there's one thing I would like to be: I wish schools were more up to front political participation. That we would learn more about politics in general, debating, the different political parties, and what the politics actually does. Because I believe not that many my age knows too much about politics. Since we never learn about it in school...
Yeah, that was just a shout out to... Everyone?
Anyway; Politics rock!
I just checked in on the discussion forum on Unge Venstre's web page. Scrolling down on several topics, a thought popped into my mind: Why do we even care? Why do we start arguing in the first place? Why care about politics?
Well, I'm pretty obsessed with politics, and it's hard to not find anything to discuss when talking to me. I got an opinion on everything. And something I find very negative in our present society is how many who tends to not care. OK, maybe it's something that have been for forever, but really? REALLY?! How can't you care about your wage, children's education, health care and civil rights? You serious?
Still, there's one thing I would like to be: I wish schools were more up to front political participation. That we would learn more about politics in general, debating, the different political parties, and what the politics actually does. Because I believe not that many my age knows too much about politics. Since we never learn about it in school...
Yeah, that was just a shout out to... Everyone?
Anyway; Politics rock!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Not So Good Love After All
This hit me today: Why the hell am I intimidated by my teacher? As I told a couple of weeks ago, I was up to a parent meeting (where my homeroom teacher, let's call her "Joan", my father and I sit down for half an hour talking about me and school). It didn't go terrible, and, thankfully, no words said about the "torpedo hirer." Only thing is that I'm scared to death...
The reason I'm scared isn't because "Joan" is a murder. Nor is she afraid of garlic. The whole stupid thing is that I kind of have a crush on her. And since I wrote about this gay couple (which no 9th grader would ever do if they aren't gay themselves (or so it is in Norway), I'm pretty sure "Joan" thinks I'm gay as well. Like 95% sure.
And, I assure you, that isn't really so bad, after all. But I really want to just tell her instead of writing stupid and terribly bad short stories to explain. Still, there's something that really sucks. Since I have a crush on her, I act horrible when I'm around her. Which is really bad. But the worst thing is that I think she knows...
Yes, she's very accepting (or so I think), but there's no fun in having a crush on your homeroom teacher. Especially not if there's a good chance she knows you're gay and that you got a crush on her.
So, here I am. Madly in love with woman. And there's nothing wrong with it. But what I want is not to have a crush on my homeroom teacher (who grades me in five subjects). I want to tell her I'm gay!
Yeah... That's the reason I try to avoid her in the corridor. But I do look her in the eye, and she looks back. Gosh, I'm really a mess...
FYI: I'm tired and sad, OK? Please don't get mad that I kind of act some egoistic. 'Cause I know. And I'm sorry about that.
The reason I'm scared isn't because "Joan" is a murder. Nor is she afraid of garlic. The whole stupid thing is that I kind of have a crush on her. And since I wrote about this gay couple (which no 9th grader would ever do if they aren't gay themselves (or so it is in Norway), I'm pretty sure "Joan" thinks I'm gay as well. Like 95% sure.
And, I assure you, that isn't really so bad, after all. But I really want to just tell her instead of writing stupid and terribly bad short stories to explain. Still, there's something that really sucks. Since I have a crush on her, I act horrible when I'm around her. Which is really bad. But the worst thing is that I think she knows...
Yes, she's very accepting (or so I think), but there's no fun in having a crush on your homeroom teacher. Especially not if there's a good chance she knows you're gay and that you got a crush on her.
So, here I am. Madly in love with woman. And there's nothing wrong with it. But what I want is not to have a crush on my homeroom teacher (who grades me in five subjects). I want to tell her I'm gay!
Yeah... That's the reason I try to avoid her in the corridor. But I do look her in the eye, and she looks back. Gosh, I'm really a mess...
FYI: I'm tired and sad, OK? Please don't get mad that I kind of act some egoistic. 'Cause I know. And I'm sorry about that.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Political Parties
I'm seriously up to get involved in politics. Like in a political party. But I just have to find out what party to join... That will be hard.
My Dad's very active in the local KrF (Christian People's Party*), but they're way too conservative for me. I think I'll end with Venstre (Left*), SV (Sosialistic Left*), Ap (The Workers Party*) or Rødt (Read*). But I don't know. And that's what I have to figure out now.
The things I think is important, is education, economics, environment and equality. And this is what I think about each of it:
Education:
* Longer school days with free warm school meals every day and many clubs and activities on school, making school a place to come together.
* Better learning environment and better teachers.
* More parted teaching, easier for "smart kids" to learn new stuff and not getting bored to death.
* A new and proper school revolution.
Economics:
* Using more of our oil funds' money to better schools, hospitals and other communal agencies.
* Help poor countries to develop by learning, not cold hard cash.
* Play a bigger part in the world's economics.
Environment:
* More and higher taxes on pollution.
* Play a bigger part in global environmental issues.
* Bigger resources to scientists working on environmental issues and solutions.
Equality:
* Better education on minorities at school, such as immigrants, the LGBTQ community, and people in different parts of the community.
* More open debates.
Now I see why there are so many argues at home...
*Directly translated, I have no idea what they would be called if they had English names. I just know they're pretty liberal all of them.
My Dad's very active in the local KrF (Christian People's Party*), but they're way too conservative for me. I think I'll end with Venstre (Left*), SV (Sosialistic Left*), Ap (The Workers Party*) or Rødt (Read*). But I don't know. And that's what I have to figure out now.
The things I think is important, is education, economics, environment and equality. And this is what I think about each of it:
Education:
* Longer school days with free warm school meals every day and many clubs and activities on school, making school a place to come together.
* Better learning environment and better teachers.
* More parted teaching, easier for "smart kids" to learn new stuff and not getting bored to death.
* A new and proper school revolution.
Economics:
* Using more of our oil funds' money to better schools, hospitals and other communal agencies.
* Help poor countries to develop by learning, not cold hard cash.
* Play a bigger part in the world's economics.
Environment:
* More and higher taxes on pollution.
* Play a bigger part in global environmental issues.
* Bigger resources to scientists working on environmental issues and solutions.
Equality:
* Better education on minorities at school, such as immigrants, the LGBTQ community, and people in different parts of the community.
* More open debates.
Now I see why there are so many argues at home...
*Directly translated, I have no idea what they would be called if they had English names. I just know they're pretty liberal all of them.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
I'm Scared. For Real.
On Thursday I got a note from my homeroom teacher. I'm up to a parent meeting. And what stroke to me, even though I knew it would come some day? NOOOO!
The reason I'm not very happy having a parent meeting isn't that I'm such a bad girl. I do well in school, I've never beat up anyone, and I just argue a bit with my teachers. The reason is that I last week wrote a short story at school (kind of like an exam). And it wasn't about planning any terror attack, but about a woman and her becoming wife.
"Jeez, it's just about a gay woman, who cares?" you might say. Well, it's not nothing. First of all, my dad's very conservative. For the second, I'm pretty sure nobody in Norway would ever write about that not being gay themselves, and that will lead my teacher to believe I'm gay. As I am. But the whole thing is that if she ever even hints about that to Dad, who's the one coming, I'll be dead.
No, I'm not scared what my teacher will think or say, but if she ever mentions anything near me being something he doesn't want me to be, life won't be easy the upcoming months.
Gosh, I feel dead already. Just please let it be, I beg you!
If you want to read my story, check out my other site where I post many of much of my written work: http://sunnys-texts.blogspot.com/ (You probably have to scroll a bit down, but it's there, called "The Torpedo Hirer"
The reason I'm not very happy having a parent meeting isn't that I'm such a bad girl. I do well in school, I've never beat up anyone, and I just argue a bit with my teachers. The reason is that I last week wrote a short story at school (kind of like an exam). And it wasn't about planning any terror attack, but about a woman and her becoming wife.
"Jeez, it's just about a gay woman, who cares?" you might say. Well, it's not nothing. First of all, my dad's very conservative. For the second, I'm pretty sure nobody in Norway would ever write about that not being gay themselves, and that will lead my teacher to believe I'm gay. As I am. But the whole thing is that if she ever even hints about that to Dad, who's the one coming, I'll be dead.
No, I'm not scared what my teacher will think or say, but if she ever mentions anything near me being something he doesn't want me to be, life won't be easy the upcoming months.
Gosh, I feel dead already. Just please let it be, I beg you!
If you want to read my story, check out my other site where I post many of much of my written work: http://sunnys-texts.blogspot.com/ (You probably have to scroll a bit down, but it's there, called "The Torpedo Hirer"
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Home, Sweet Home...?
I read this article in an add-in magazine called Magasinet about "the art of teaching." There was an interview with the Minister of Education as well, and he told what to do to make people become teachers. The school standard isn't so high if you look at test results and stuff compared to other European countries. And that might be caused by some bad teachers. Or bad education of the teachers... I guess on the second one.
So, when I sat there reading, I came up with something: I don't think I'll suck as a teacher. Maybe I'll be quite good. Who knows? Then I thought a little more about it, and was like: That would be quite fun, actually! And maybe I then would return to my home country, where I'm born and raised. Who knows?
The problem is that I've never felt so home here. I don't feel Norway's the place for me. And even if it is... What if homosexuality will never be totally accepted by Norwegians. Especially not Norwegian parents. What if they think I'll recruit others? Or that the kids will come with comments like "Eww... Like kissing girls?" or "That's so disgusting!"
The truth is that I don't believe they will be in ten years. Many of them aren't like that today either. Even though many of them try to be... So, if I'll ever be a teacher and be out as gay, I probably won't meet 20 death threats a day. Or at least I hope not. It won't be that bad.
But another thing is that I don't want to meet people I know. And be out. Maybe that's what I'm most scared of. Maybe not. But I think I'll stick to that theory. I don't want to meet the homeroom teacher I had in eight to tenth grade when I'm 25-30 years old and be like "Hi, nice to see you again! Here, meet my girlfriend [Whatever the name she'll have]. Not gonna happen.
Maybe I won't stay in Norway as I think about it... Nope.
So, when I sat there reading, I came up with something: I don't think I'll suck as a teacher. Maybe I'll be quite good. Who knows? Then I thought a little more about it, and was like: That would be quite fun, actually! And maybe I then would return to my home country, where I'm born and raised. Who knows?
The problem is that I've never felt so home here. I don't feel Norway's the place for me. And even if it is... What if homosexuality will never be totally accepted by Norwegians. Especially not Norwegian parents. What if they think I'll recruit others? Or that the kids will come with comments like "Eww... Like kissing girls?" or "That's so disgusting!"
The truth is that I don't believe they will be in ten years. Many of them aren't like that today either. Even though many of them try to be... So, if I'll ever be a teacher and be out as gay, I probably won't meet 20 death threats a day. Or at least I hope not. It won't be that bad.
But another thing is that I don't want to meet people I know. And be out. Maybe that's what I'm most scared of. Maybe not. But I think I'll stick to that theory. I don't want to meet the homeroom teacher I had in eight to tenth grade when I'm 25-30 years old and be like "Hi, nice to see you again! Here, meet my girlfriend [Whatever the name she'll have]. Not gonna happen.
Maybe I won't stay in Norway as I think about it... Nope.
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