Obsession with the past

I was looking at my Facebook memories (as I do every day) and realized that nine years ago today I woke up next to someone else's partner. I made some fucked up choices after drinking tequila at a party in the house I shared with two amazing ladies in Cork, Ireland. Those choices changed my life. I have no idea how my life would look today if it wasn't for that night. I don't know what made me feel drawn to that dude, why I made the choice to go to bed with him. I don't remember much of the party, or what happened in my bed (more because of the nine years since it happened than because of the tequila I think, but I'm sure both had an effect). I remember the song that was playing on repeat inside, I remember that we were standing outside, smoking, and everyone else went inside. I remember one of my housemates asking me the next day why that guys shoes where in the hallway when she woke up early in the morning. (Or maybe went to bed early in the morning?)

I fell for him, a very stupid "love", a toxic relationship without future or reason or logic. We were drawn to each other by some kind of undeniable force and we let it happen, we hurt each other and others, everything was dramatic and serious and stupid and... ugh. It drained the happiness from my life.

He moved to Sweden. He got married. And he kept writing to me, "refusing to become a memory" as he said. The idea of being adored was just too sweet. I tried to move on, I don't think I answered his emails but I don't know. Maybe I did. I don't remember. I knew even then that he was using me to feel special, more than anything else. I knew on some level. But unfortunately it didn't help, I still wanted nothing as much as I wanted him.

He and his wife separated. He contacted me and wanted to see me. I came running. So stupid. We became a real couple, finally, after years of stupid f*cking drama. I moved back to Stockholm and we lived together. It was never good. He never wanted it to become real, everyday, ordinary. That was all I wanted. I never really got it. It was a couple of years wasted. Terrible f*cking years. He was mean, and manipulative, and he didn't love me. Not at all. I think he wanted to keep me around because it was comfortable, I cooked and cleaned and payed for most of our food and furniture and clothes for his kids, so that he could spend his own money on fun stuff.

I loved his kids so much. So much that when I knew I should have left long ago I couldn't. I couldn't leave them. I couldn't leave them with him.

Then he started isolating me from them, cutting me off from them. And there was no reason for me to stay at all anymore.

Surprisingly the kids' mother contacted me when we broke up. I had not been allowed to talk to her. (!) We became friends. And I could see the kids. I still love those kids so much. And I love their mom. But I don't really think about their dad anymore.

Me and the kids' mom started comparing things that he had told us and very soon realized that there was a huge discrepancy. He had been lying, about everything, all the time. Everything. I didn't actually know anything about him at all.

Breaking up from someone who has spent years breaking you down is a pretty big deal. At the same time I had a lot of stress at work - a LOT of stress. A recipe for success, if by success you mean burnout and a depression that had been building up since that one night, nine years ago. That depression is still present in my life but at least that dude is not! The kids and their mom are though. And I'm happy about that. When I told her that her ex husband had been cheating on her with me she just hugged me. I was crying a lot. I love her. And I love her kids. And now I'm living in a different county again, and I miss them, but I'm so happy they are in my life.

I wonder where my life would have taken me if that night never happened. Who I would have been.

Nine years and eleven months

Since I started writing on this blog! In one month (approximately) the blog will be 10 years old. That means I was 22 when I started writing it. A lot has happened since then.

Right now I'm sitting in the floor in my craft room. I'm drinking tea. It's cold. I'm talking to a good friend on messenger. About narcissists. Last night I read this article and so much fell into place. Everything I went through at school in Leksand about four years ago suddenly made sense. It was like reading a checklist, or like someone had been watching exactly everything that happened. I was the perfect victim for a narcissist. I was so easy to manipulate. To befriend, to turn against. To turn everyone else against. I wish people weren't so willing to turn against me.

But it answered the question that has been on my mind almost constantly since then: why?

Why did this happen? What did I do?

I'll always be grateful for the people who didn't eat up every lie she spread like it was some kind of divine truth. The people who had my back, who helped and supported me. And most of all to the few that are still my friends. Those people show me that I'm actually okay, I'm not some kind of monster. Because if I was, I would not get to have the coolest, most amazing, kindest, most thoughtful, talented friends.

I can't say losing people who listen to rumors and accept lies is a huge loss.

Like a dream

Some days I feel like my dreams are close. I can almost touch them. Strange memories mingle with real ones.

Today is such a day. I feel inspired and restless but at the same time ... I don't know, distanced, detached.

All of the drama

It's cold and wet and late. Walking back to Tindra and Oscar's place through the neighborhood that used to be my own, memories from one year ago wash over me like shadows. I'm seeing double.

A year ago I lived here and all these people where a part of my life. I saw them every day, cooked for them, laughed with them, had fights with them.

Staggered home drunk with my best friend, spent long days in bed with him, watched lots of movies, made chilies, drank rum.

I see all these things when I walk here. I see myself taking the kids to day care, I see me and J making drunken snow angels, I see us looking out at the ships singing "lillith victoria!"

Tonight it really hurts to remember all the good times I had with J. The painful memories of summer had just begin to fade into the distance and all the nice memories where the ones that I kept. But as one problem gets solved another got un-solved.

And now, again, after I thought we had gotten through all the crap, he tells me that he doesn't want to see me for some time. Or really keep in touch. After all the shit we went through together, after all the energy we both put into our friendship.

Jealousy is a fucking stupid thing. It's not logical, it's not useful, it's just a need to control others. It's fear pretending to be love. It's wanting to rule. It's selfish and destructive.

Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate.

He's still my friend. But he's not the same person.

duh

I can see what posts are commented. (Yay bimbopoints for me!) And it was a post that is exactly one year old today, written in Swedish, written on the day that I was supposed to be contacted by Siemens. They didn't, on that day, but a couple of days later. I left Sweden a couple of weeks after geting the call.

Strange, zooming back through time like that. Totally unexpected.

Anyhow the comment was a total spam.

No lasagna today as I was feeling almost ill. Tired, headache, woozy. The woozy could be the painkillers though. Pizza instead. Yummy peperoni with barbeque sauce.

Listening to: The washing machine.

between the past and the future

Looking back and looking ahead.

There are things I want to feel. I want to be close, feel the touch of skin. I want to know.

I think I might be ready to start letting go though.

I think about that time. That first time, in the dark, that last time. (That other time, all those other times.)

Things are what they are, whatever I want or do. Sometimes I can't do anything about that. Right now I think I might be ready to start accepting reality. My not so firm grip on reality might be getting better. Who knows. Baby steps.

A physiotherapist has told me to stop running. My hips are to screwed up.

I kinda feel... not so lost, right now.

I'm at Emilias. It is a good place to be.

good intentions

Although I had intended to be a good girl and go to bed at ten last night, I of course started cleaning my room and blogging and being just generally awake. So I think I went to bed around twelve. And of course I did not wake up when my alarm started ringing, at 05.40, and I still fell a bit icky and flu-ish, so I decided to take it a bit easy and not go running. Also I realized that the sun goes up when I go to work so all running would be running in darkness. A bit scary but I think I would be alright. I might not live in the safest area but just before dawn I think the bad guys are asleep. And most of the bad guys I've met are not guys so much as fourteen year old girls who had a little bit too much to drink. So I'll be fine.

And well yeah, of course I spent maybe half an hour or so this morning on cleaning my room...

I'm very much looking forward to christmas. My mom is coming here and I'm goint to force her to make me liver stew. And I'm going to make her chocolate pie. And It will be so nice.

It's really never happened before but all of a sudden I want snow for christmas. Me and Nils and Astrid (my brother and sister) are thinking of going skiing in the alps some time this winter. I'm not sure I'll be able to, bu oh how I want it!

In other news the "fish of the week" has come to an end. It started 21 weeks ago as a weekly email that I sent out within the team, and it still is. Only that the team has changed. Well, anyhow, from next week on a new era will start, and I plan to start posting stuff here as well.

The first and the last is the same.

some things

Some things will never be anything else. Some things will be symbols, allways filled with some kind of emotional meaning.

Everything that I have said is true.

Rollercoaster

Sometimes it feels like... it will never work. Whatever. There's nothing I can do and there's no use in even thinking about it. Sometimes it feels like there's nothing I can do and I can't breathe.



Do you remember that time when we walked out to the lake and there were swans and you kissed me and I said no, we can't kiss now, it would be to cliché with the lake and the swans and the spring and the sunset and I could almost hear violins and we laughed and we saw a swan with a crooked leg? Remember? I saw that swan today, the one with the screwed up leg, and it wasn't very painful to remember that day. Not... very painful. On our way back I told you secrets from my past, things I don't tell people very often. And it wasn't even hard to think about it or talk about it with you. It was a really good day.

salt and sugar

Chips and olives for breakfast untill my mouth is numb from all the salt, three or four in the afternoon in front of the tv, drinking coffee and crying to the old american movie about doomed love, home alone. Writing long emails and short ones.

Wrestling in bed with my friends, tickling and hugging and eating more chips, loosing faith in the world after listening to Olof's stories from Palestine. Pancakes (Swedish ones) for dinner, very sweet with jam and whipped cream.

Downloaded Curse of Monkey Island. And Beethoven's first to ninth, and Ika i Rutan. (Ika in the screen, best children's tv show ever. Every episode.)

Remembering the past with Maria in the kitchen late at night, bringing back memories that hurt. Childhood.

Sunday. I am truly thankful for my friends.