doggo

I'm sitting in our office, drinking juice. The dog is asleep in the bedroom, we went on a long walk earlier and he's still pretty pooped. It was nice getting out in the sunshine. I've been cooped up for a while, playing video games and talking to friends online and generally clinging to the main social exchange I have. And feeling bad about wasting time while still having to admit that social connections are important and probably good for my mental health. It's a quite strange combo.

It's been an unusually long time since my last post. Getting a dog turned out to be one of the most difficult things I've ever done and it sparked a period of depression that was worse than it's been in quite long.

But it's slowly stabilising again. I lost a beloved family member and that made it pretty much worse again, but by now I'm starting to feel like a human again.

I'm trying to create good habits and routines but that shit is so hard. Even if I write strict schedules for myself I keep forgetting or losing track of them.



Listening to: Blank Maps by Cold Specs

Nn

A very long day is over and I'm in bed with hair dye still in my hair because I'm simply too tired to wash it out in the middle of the night and then waiting for my hair to dry at least a little. It's probably going to be a pain to wash it out tomorrow morning but I'm going to sleep either way! Now! It's almost one and I got up at seven thirty, a much longer day than I'm used to!

I'm very excited about tomorrow! (Not only because of the shower I'm gonna take.)

Goodnight internet ♡

The light at the end of the tunnel

This bloody steam roller of a week is almost over. It's midnight, late thursday evening. Tomorrow is going to be hectic and Saturday too, and then it's Sunday, the day I've been waiting for for months.

I cancelled my plans today and yesterday, I just can't deal with anything at all basically. I'm lucky enough to have people in my life that don't mind me flaking at the last minute, or even better - who come to me and give me hugs. ♡

Life is good. I think that I'm in the best circumstances to deal with my overwhelming anxiety. Even if life being good is actually making my anxiety worse, it also allows me time and space to rest and breathe and deal.

Emotional overload

I should be happy, because my life is amazing. But the excitement and happiness is so overwhelming that I just have intense physical anxiety. All the time. And a whole lot mental too.

Yay.

All year I dream about it

And when it's here I never want it to end. I love summer, warm weather, sunshine, being outdoors.

We chose our house because of the garden, we felt like it had so much possibility. A roofed deck, a lot of planting space, a lawn, another deck! Space to have bbq's, space to hang out with friends, long summer evenings looking out over the Sheffield hills... but unfortunately a representative from the council came by and looked at the decking and told us it's too rotten to even stand on. It needs to be switched before we can walk or sit or stand on it.

And our landlord doesn't feel like it. So now we have a lawn and a shitload of woodlouse. And our garden is nothing but a reminder of disappointment. A symbol of how much goes wrong with this house. And when it gets colder those woodlouse are going to start finding their way indoors again.

Out and about

Travel is so much fun and so much stress and so much overwhelming. I have a problem with big, noisy, crowded places, except for one. Gröna Lund in Stockholm is a place where I feel happy, even though I'm constantly surrounded by screaming people and massive crowds and huge, noisy structures and bright colours and bad music and in general a lot of stuff that would normally trigger a panic attack. My inner child looks at it all with starry eyed wonder. And I manage to keep it together. And. Yesterday my friend T won TWO KILOS OF TOBLERONE.

A marvellous day. I also went on three different roller coasters (and the fun house) and it was a lot of fun!

So far this trip (although it's intense) has been really good. I'm away from home for a long time but it's still hectic and I feel like I don't have time to see anyone.

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.